Category Archives: People

The future

I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately.

People who know me might be surprised to hear that I don’t see this cool little bar as being part of that.

Getting this place open was one of the biggest challenges I’ve faced. Largely because I did most of the physical labour as, well as the obvious multitude of bits of red tape, formalities and other such rubbish.

In many ways, getting the ‘bus up and running was pretty close to work I’d done when I had a proper job. While the bar was stupidly hard work, it was hugely rewarding. Particularly when there was a real outcome and a feeling of I did this.

And maybe that’s what I liked about the last few projects in my old job. Once something was delivered, the buzz was over. The inevitable live running politics took over and a new job came along.

So why would Microbus be any different? I’m at the point when, although I love the place, the buzz is already a distant memory and the people shit has started to encroach on the joy in something new.

This stuff’s so frustrating.

Anarchists

I joined a Covid protest yesterday, on the basis that its focus would be a possible third national lockdown.

Sadly, that wasn’t the case. The first, overly long, speech concentrated on demonising the Police and weaponising 5G to trigger genes mutated by Covid vaccinations.

I learned that the vaccinations will result in millions of deaths in the UK and that God will protect the unvaccinated.

Fortunately, the many people joining the protest along the route didn’t hear this speech.

There was a huge missed opportunity; the focus should have been on the Government, the actions of those in power and their knee jerk decisions. Not conspiracy theories and religion. But that’s just my view.

Brass Plaque

I had a random conversation with an old guy a couple of days ago. This began in a lift at Washington bus station.

The dog was looking particularly cute, so attracted his attention. This led to dog related dialogue.

Which continued after we left the lift. He told me that his father lost a much loved dog around 100 years ago. With Council permission, he mounted a plaque on a tree to commemorate the dog’s life.

The tree’s somewhere in Kent; the plaque’s still there.

I like things like that.

Sociology

Anyone with an A level in Sociology knows this boot.

Only three and six. A bargain and still available in a bar in Newcastle. Until someone spots it.

And, if they don’t, it’s mine.

A clue. The Town Wall.

Jung

When we had snow a few weeks ago, and there was the usual public transport failure, I met a bloke in the bus station in Washington. We complained about having to walk part way because nudes can no longer climb (clear and gritted) hills.

Anyway, I see him pretty much every night, since I increased my working hours due to an impending deadline.

We mostly discuss the timeliness of the X1, but last night the conversation became more interesting.

We talked about Jung.

El Gringo

I’m on a bus to Washington right now. I’m meeting a mate there, then we’re off to a computer fair in Sunderland. I’ve not been to one of those in around a decade, probably longer. The internet pretty much killed off computer fairs, so it’ll be interesting to see whether this is more than a one-off. And what they have to offer now that phones and tablets have decimated the desktop market (I still have two desktops).

Anyway, a couple of minutes ago, I passed a man walking down the street. He was carrying a newspaper and, I’m assuming, a bag of cans (beer, rather than beans). Before High Fell club closed a few years ago, I often used to see him on buses. He used to catch a bus outside the club at closing time. He often had a carrier bag, filled with (another assumption) meat. Whatever day of the week I passed the place, he’s be at the bus stop at closing time.

I named him El Gringo, because he’s short, somewhat round, balding, with slightly long hair and a huge Zapata moustache.

Looking back, I’m not sure why I gave him that name. With a sombrero and an ammunition belt over his shoulder, he’s be a classic spaghetti western bad guy.

I was surprised to see that he’s still alive.

Gardening

Since the weather’s changed for the better, I couldn’t put off resuming work on the shed.

This wall is a lot more solid than the first one I tackled, so it wasn’t so easy to remove the inside layer of stone.

Doing a spot of gardening now.

While sitting here, a magpie arrived.

My second encounter with such a creature today. The first was this morning, when, on arriving at the tip, we saw a magpie attacking a young parrot.

An old lady and I scared off the magpie, but the parrot was unaccessible, behind a high fence. Also in the queue was a parrot breeder (there had to be), who said he’d drive back around to capture the bird.

So, the old lady and I stood guard until he returned.

Unfortunately, a girl with a stick arrived before he did. I’d acquired a towel from one of the site workers, but hadn’t used it because I didn’t want to harm the bird. The girl, however, pointed the stick in the parrot’s direction. Apparently, the bird was supposed to walk onto the stick.

It flew off. Just before the parrot professional arrived.

As I was writing this, a pair of pigeons landed on the fence. This will be their second year of nesting in our tree.

Dancing man

I originally posted this picture one Sunday afternoon in 2009.

We used to have a pretty regular family thing in the late 00s; lunch in Baroque (renamed Aspire, then Establishment) on a Sunday afternoon.

On that particular afternoon, if I recall correctly, there were some decisive football matches which would determine which of Newcastle or Sunderland would be relegated.

I’ve no particular interest in football, but I found myself annoyed by the party atmosphere in Sunderland. Sunderland didn’t actually win their match, but neither did Newcastle.

So, the man above was dancing in celebration of Newcastle’s relegation. I do accept football rivalry, of course. But sometimes it goes too far. It went too far that particular day. Which is why I probably remembered dancing man.

With Sunderland’s second relegation in two years, I wonder whether he’s still dancing.

Smoke

I once lived with a smoker. It was horrible. Thankfully, I don’t live with one now.

I couldn’t do that again.

That might seem shallow, but the smell isn’t nice. To a non-smoker, it’s pretty disgusting.