Regular readers will understand that I am always on the look-out for excuses as to why I haven't posted for a while. Well, I have found a new one. I think I have broken my nose. The circumstances need not bother us here; suffice it to say that they weren't as exciting as the last time I did it, a mere fifty years ago. On that occasion interventions were necessary from the London Ambulance Service, the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital and the Metropolitan Police, and I was by no means the most injured person following the, er, incident. As a good indication of how tame my life has become in the meantime all that seems to be required now are a cup of tea, some paracetamol and an early night.

Here's some music from the mighty Family:

'Rhythm in her arse' indeed. This next one is most certainly not suitable for work:

 

 Apologies for my absence, but this retirement malarkey doesn't leave one any free time. Amongst other things I have been to Largs and the Isle of Cumbrae, both of which sound like they are taken from a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, but are in fact real; the former is even on the rail network. The latter enhances its fantasy credentials by being home to this:

Apparently alcohol was involved at some point in creating this, but it was over a century ago so no record remains of  whether deep fried food also featured. For those who worry that Scottish stereotypes are not what they once were I can offer the reassurance that whilst in Glasgow I saw someone walking along the road swigging from a bottle of Bucky. I visited Nardini's whilst in Largs; lovely art deco building, terrible service.

Anyway, here's Sir Reg (*) with a totally non-fantasy version of a song that either has no relation to the above or indicates that Bernie Taupin holidayed in Millport as a child.

* Or, to be more precise, someone playing the part of Sir Reg.

 "And a thing is not seen because it is visible, but conversely, visible because it is seen" - Plato

We finally got round to having a more ambitious game with the What a Cowboy! rules, more figures on the table and even a scenario of sorts. 

Sadly the quality of the photos hasn't improved. The two characters hidden on the right are bandits trying to ambush the wagon, which may contain money, or gold, or possibly their arrested leader. There were four factions on the table and I'm not sure anyone fully understood what they were trying to do, even James and he designed the scenario. I was in charge of one lot of lawmen, did the least and ended up the winner.

The rules continue to entertain. Richard Clarke likes to put spotting into his rules and it doesn't always sit right with me, but here they do make sense and the rationale behind them is well explained in the text. Reloading is possibly one area that seems a bit odd, but we came to the conclusion that it was perhaps about getting the cadence and flow of the game to work smoothly rather than a literal interpretation of either real life or of  how it's done in Hollywood. Anyway, having got on top of it we are inevitably now going to do something else. After all, it's hard to be a cowboy in the north of England.

 

 "When affairs get into a real tangle, it is best to sit still and let them straighten themselves out. Or, if one does not do that, simply to think no more about them. This is Philosophy." 

- P. G. Wodehouse

It's review of the year time. I didn't do one last year because the illness that has plagued me on and off in 2024 started with unlooked for precision on 29th December 2023. That's bad news for posterity, because I had a lot to write about and would no doubt have done so most entertainingly. This year has seen a much reduced programme of activities. Apart from funerals; I don't think I've ever been to so many in such a short space of time.  I won't write about those.

Opera: I've only seen sixteen operas this year. The clear best among them was the Hallé's 1857 'Simon Boccanegra', with a nod to 'Aleko'. Of those I've not bothered to mention here before my favourites would include 'The Sign of Four', apparently the first opera ever written about Sherlock Holmes, Albert Herring, and Peter Brook's take on Carmen at the Buxton Opera Festival.

Theatre: Only twelve plays, so another drop year on year. Best was 'My Fair Lady' of all things. Even more surprising was my enjoyment of  'A Midsummer Night's Dream' at York Theatre Royal, with a genuine circus clown as Bottom. This blog normally has a strict 'clowns are not funny' policy. Perhaps as another sign of change I went to two comedy gigs for the first time in decades. 

Music: I saw eighteen gigs, so maybe that's why I couldn't find time to go to the theatre. Best were the mighty Southern River Band, but also excellent were Mississippi Macdonald, Brave Rival, the Milkmen, Errol Linton, the Zombies and others too numerous to mention; except that I am contractually obliged to mention both Martin Simpson and Fairport Convention.

 It was all good though. Please accept a belated nadolig llawen pawb; hope yours was as much fun. While I wait for my digestion to stabilise, here's some Conny:

 

 My resolution to post more often on my shiny new computer didn't work out that well. I am intimidated by the size of the screen. In any event there is still no wargames activity, although without wishing to tempt fate I expect to have something to write about by the weekend. 

What I have done since last here is attend a same-sex Hindu wedding - the food was excellent -  and also the first gig since before my illness. It was the rather fine Elles Bailey, who I had last seen some years ago at a local blues club. She has obviously gone up in the world in the meantime because she can now afford to hire the rightful, albeit reluctant, King of Gondor on drums.

Here she is in action:

 My absence has been so pronounced that I feel I must have lost the right to be known as a bloggist. It's time to win it back.

There have been a number of reasons for my absence. Firstly, the illness and death that seem to be always around as one gets older (*). Secondly, and not unrelated, there hasn't been any wargaming. Thirdly, and completely unrelated, my computer broke, doing so slowly rather than in one big bang, but effectively rendering the thing unusable for the last few weeks. Happily, a new one has eventually arrived, featuring a screen so big that I have to sit on the landing outside the study door in order to be able to use it.

Also happily, wargaming has started again with a small game of Nimitz.

You can see Mark measuring the arc of fire using the tried and tested 'waving one's hand about' technique. We got the rules wrong; it was great fun; normal service has been resumed. 

* For the avoidance of doubt, I have only suffered the first of those personally.

 

 

 I've been away, but I'm back. While I get myself sorted out here's some music from a band I saw a couple of weeks ago:

I'm thinking of wearing my hair like that.

 I've been busy electioneering of course. I'm quietly confident in Leeds North West, not least because no other party seems to be doing any campaigning at all. As for the overall result, who knows? I would, however, like to point readers towards this little 'prediction' I made on the 23rd April 2020, during the first lockdown when the Tories were well ahead in the opinion polls. As I said then: we shall see.

I have found time away from politics to do a few things. Firstly, walking. This is an entry in the very infrequent series of bridges of the Yorkshire Dales. In the Worth Valley, it's not far from the house that the Railway Children lived in.

We also finished the To The Strongest! game, with a win for the Crusaders, but not by much. I then took myself off to see Mississippi McDonald, who was excellent despite clearly not coming from Mississippi. This one's called 'If You Want A Good Cup Of Coffee'. If you do, then take my advice and don't go to McDonalds, whether in Mississippi or anywhere else.

It is with a heavy heart that I pass on news of the death of Peter, my friend and wargaming colleague of twenty years or more. With cruel irony he was the youngest and, until his illness, the fittest and most active of our small group. My thoughts are very much with Heather and his family.

 I write this in response to the blog having supposedly received 4,000 views in the last twenty four hours, a figure which is beyond implausible. Inasmuch as there are ever any views it's due to neither the frequency of posting nor the quality; it's simply that I've been going a long time so there plenty of opportunities for stray internet searches to hit a past post. I'm going to revisit two of those past posts myself, following a bank holiday weekend of gig going.

Firstly the Paperboys, ten years after having last seen them, and very good they were too. My companion on that occasion, the estimable Coral Laroc, didn't care overmuch for the trombone and the first thing said during the interval by the lady accompanying me this time was "What's with the trombone?". Plus ça change. Speaking of Coral, she was last heard of at the beginning of the month swimming in the sea off Redcar, following which she complained that something in the water had made her ill. Does she not read the newspapers?

I've also seen the Zombies, this time after a gap of eleven years. Back then I hinted at some surprise that Colin Blunstone's voice was in such good shape. It now occurs to me that at the time he was the same age that I am now - i.e. in his prime - and that therefore there was nothing remarkable in the fact that he could still cut it. I am delighted to report that all remains well vocally. And indeed musically, because it was an outstanding gig, with 'Time of the Season', 'Hold Your Head Up' and 'She's Not There' being the unsurprising stand-outs; excellent stuff and if I never see them again - which seems probable - it was a very good way to leave it. 

 “The cow is of the bovine ilk; one end is moo, the other milk.” - Ogden Nash

The election is nearly on us, the campaign will soon be over. Rest assured that my part in it does not involve any personal interaction with voters. The video in the last post rivalled that of Daniel O'Donnell for being the worst ever put up on these pages. This is better:

 It's election time; I'm busy.

To tide us over here is some Barry Blue. There are a couple of mysteries about this video. Is the music we're hearing the same as that to which he is lip-synching and 'dancing'? And why have the audience been drugged?

Fun fact: his real name is Barry Green. 

Unexpected fact: as a songwriter his work was recorded by, amongst others, Diana Ross and Vera Lynn.

 We live in interesting times. It's reassuring therefore that readers have felt able to spare the time to write to me. For the record none of them have asked how the Peninsular campaign is going. Nevertheless I feel obliged to tell you. Mark very nearly won a couple of weeks ago, but the Spanish forces collectively made a burst towards Madrid, recapturing sufficient territory from the French to ensure that it will go on a bit longer. Bastards.

What did seem to be worrying you all was why my list of the most famous Barrys hadn't included Barry from Eastenders. A fine question, but in my defence I must point out that he is fictional, plus of course he was pushed off a cliff twenty years ago. Having said that, he did recently appear at a gig venue local to me presenting his, apparently famous, barrioke; shame I missed it.

Much more relevant to the state of the world is Barry Maguire, who recorded a song in 1965 which I would re-release sharpish were I his record label:

 I have been asked why my round-up of famous Barrys in showbiz omitted Chuckle. Good question. At the risk of confirming AI in its belief that this is a YouTube channel, let's have some music from another one. And is it just a coincidence that the Leeds born Ryan brothers (real name Sapherson) shared first names with the Chuckle brothers (real name Elliot) (*)?

* Yes, it is.

 “The question of whether a computer can think is no more interesting than the question of whether a submarine can swim.” - Edsger W. Dijkstra

Jonathan over at Palouse Wargaming has asked a chatbot to explain his blog. On the basis that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery I have asked the same AI the same question but about this blog. Part of its response says that I am involved in "discussing various historical battles and wargaming topics from an informed, expert perspective". So, clearly nonsense then.

To get a different opinion, I tried Gemini from Google, who after all actually host this blog. Gemini says that it isn't a blog at all, but rather a YouTube channel, citing as evidence the post entitled "YOUTUBE has a wargaming problem". There is no such post on here nor, as far as I can find, on YouTube either. 

While I'm sulking about the possibly libellous suggestion that this blog has featured so many videos that it might as well be a YouTube channel, why don't I play some music which celebrates the modelling side of our hobby:

The appearance of a photo of Michael Palin as a shopkeeper early on in the rather overly literal visual interpretation of the song is not by coincidence; he wrote the lyrics.