Sunday, 21 August 2011

The air show.

Every year we have a free air show here in Bournemouth and for those impressed with things of an air show ilk, its quite a thing. I'm the sort of person who is kind of impressed with things of an air show ilk and so kind of impressed with the Bournemouth air show.

Of course I'd like to say it's just because I like to take the boy, but in truth I found myself up there on my own Friday watching the Red Arrows and feeling every bit the excited child. I get like that when I watch the jets and I love The Red Arrows.


Skip forward a day and my plan to take the boy for the Lunch time Red Arrow show was scuppered by a bit of extra time in bed and a boiled egg for breakfast. This worried me not because I felt sure we would make the last show on Sunday afternoon. Safe and secure in this knowledge the Dobbos headed into town for a while. 

The first Police car that raced by went mostly unnoticed. Then as more and more Police, fire engines and ambulances  raced pass it became fairly obvious that something was not as it should be. Mrs D even said she thought someone had crashed at the air show. Turns out they had. In a field close to the Dobbos humble abode a Red Arrow had come down. This was unbelievable enough but adding the fact that the pilot had died made it all seen almost unbelievable.


This got me thinking. Obviously this is all very sad, in fact its absolutely fucking tragic. But why, I wonder do I find myself feeling so chocked up about the whole thing? Truth is I don't know and to be perfectly honest, I don't particularly care. This is the thing about emotions, about being able to feel and be in touch with it. It's the old treatment centre thing. The good news is you get your feelings back, the bad news is you get your feeling back. Bit of a bugger sometimes.


Saturday, 20 August 2011

Once more.

"Once more: The alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defense against the first drink. Except in a few rare cases, neither he nor any other human being can provide such a defense. His defense must come from a Higher Power."

Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition, More About Alcoholism, pg. 43

So Many times I've tried to think myself out of that next drink, the next use up. It wasn't until I really started to comprehend the statement above that I was able to at least make a start. His defence must come from a higher power. MUST.

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Tuesday, 9 August 2011

I've survived four years marriage

It seems to me this green and pleasant land of ours has gone just a tad bananas. The city's are rioting for yet another night and the folk inclined, are doing just about exactly what they want with no fear of consequence. I will of course resist the temptation to point out what a selfish bunch of twats these people are, yes I will.

In times like this it normally helps to have a look at what I have in my life, my home, my town. In a couple of hours I will have survived four years marriage to the most wonderful Mrs D. Four years!!! That I really must report is quite a thing.

It got me thinking what the secret to a successful marriage is, assuming of course my marriage is successful. I'm guessing it is simply because it's lasted so long.

I suppose it's the same solution I've found in other areas of my life. Complete and utter surrender. I have a t shirt with the game over image that was given to me by my best man shortly after I got married. I've worn it many, many times in the last four years and it has truly served me well. As has the principle of total and utter surrender. Some times being done is a great thing.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

Thats that.

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Monday, 1 August 2011

My pathological hatred for anything camp related

So the Dobbo's have just returned from our first ever caravaning expedition and I've got to say it was a decidedly enjoyable experience. This I must say came as a complete surprise to me. It's fair to say that I'm not the type who puts up with any degree of roughing it when a good nights sleep is concerned. I'm a big fan of hotel rooms and for that matter room service. Add to that my pathological hatred for anything camp related and you get some sort of idea about how i (as they say) roll.

However, despite this I found myself really quite enjoying the whole caravaning experience. Granted the caravan is hardly a year old, the awning on the side of it is bigger then a lot of the bedsits I've lived in and my most wonderful in-laws took care of us like royalty.

The up shot is I get the feeling I might just be a bit of a natural. The offer to use this most marvellous home on wheels has been neatly placed on the table and I suspect the Dobbo's will be gratefully taking full advantage of it.