Goodbye to all that.

All good things come to an end - and, indeed, so does this blog. It's been a bit of a journey, but it has to stop. After all, there's not Abroad At Home any more, and there hasn't been for over a year. I don't feel like changing the title, so I'm mothballing it instead.

Don't for a second think I'm stopping this thing though: for at 13:11 GMT tomorrow, a new blog launches, coinciding with the beginning of a new chapter in my life. Dancing In The Streets Of Raith is the name of the new venture - and the reason for the name will, bit by bit, become apparent.

Join me on a journey. Join me there.

"'Ello, Bongo!"

Whilst I'm on with my little Morecambe and Wise thing - surely the parents of Vic and Bob - I thought it the decent thing to combine that with another of my obsessions.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you: John, Paul, George, Eric, Ernie... and Bongo.

Morecambe and Wise: The Stripper

COMEDY GOLD.

That is all.

Rowan Atkinson as Marc Almond

Funny, but so unfair to one of the genuine mavericks of the British recording industry.

But yes, it is funny.

Did I say it was funny?

It must be September...

David Ford, Union Chapel 2, originally uploaded by sp3ccylad.

If it's September, it must be Fordtime. Indeed, more to the point, if it's 26th September: for last Friday marked not only David Ford's only headline UK show for the remainder of the year, but also the anniversary of Ford's quite incredible secret gig at Sleepers in Huddersfield.

It was massively significant for me too, because I made a decision that day after a conversation I had at that gig. It had all slipped into paradox, as the conversation was clearly designed to achieve the opposite, but he wasn't to know what effect his words were having on me. You see, I'd been given plenty of time to think in what must be the biggest single miscalculation anybody's ever applied to me: so I decided; no more being mucked about, no more tolerance of any old behaviour, no more unpleasant surprises. It took a shockingly short amount of time for that decision, and my commitment to that decision, to be tested.

In fact, I was reminded of that in the funniest way on Friday, when a friend I made that night - she tried to give me money; which is always a winning opening gambit with me - said that she was in Wetherspoons on John William Street trying to work out Huddersfield's geography when "this hat flashed past at some speed. That was when I knew which direction the gig was..."

I laughed and said "I shan't tell you why, but I was in the foulest of foul moods at that point, which explained the speed. But it's gone now. I'm OK."

And it has. Friday was a day I doubted I'd see in this buoyant a mood. One year on, and I feel back to an old self I don't think I've seen in 20 years, a quieter, less forceful me. One who feels in control, and not forever desperately grabbing at unsustainability. Somebody happy enough with himself to do what he thinks is right - not cool, daring, or even exciting. Just right.

I know what makes me happy. It's me. Nobody else. You're welcome along for the ride, but just enjoy me for what I am. 

And if you ever wish I was somebody else, then go find that person instead. Deal?

It's just like watching Brazil!

"Whatever Robinho's got, it's catching! They're all at it!"
The Guardian's report of what was, by any standards, an exceptional City performance.

The genius goes bonkers

You know, unlike a lot of bloggers, I like iTunes' new genius feature (see post below). But tonight: well, everything's gone a bit Pete Tong.

I chose a bit of an oddity for a seed - "Barriers", the B-side of Soft Cell's "Numbers". 

Yeah. I'm sure you're all whistling it now.

Anyway, this is the (frankly deranged) playlist it gave me: 

I mean: WTF? How do you get Arctic Monkeys, Soul II Soul, Haircut 100 and Laurie Anderson in the same playlist? It's like a party for surrealists. And when we get to "My Sweet Lord", well: words fail me.

I quite like the idea of iTunes taking the piss - now I'm playing them, it seems like the sort of mad playlist I'd put together for a compilation. It just beggars belief how a computer would come up with it. I might even save the playlist for posterity...