pushing the senses

Earlier this week I bought the 'Feeder' album, Pushing the Senses. This album is a self-confessed, rock chick's delight. As I listened to the title track, while walking along the platform at Earl's Court station yesterday (pity it was so busy cause I had this voracious urge to sing), I wondered to myself how long it will be until I find another song that I will savour equally. Can it get any better than this? Will we reach a time when all the good songs are finally written? Imagine a day when we will never again revel in the joy of finding a tune so pleasing to the ear that it instantaneously transforms your mood.
I think of my grandfather and how he mumbles that today's music is "just noise" and reminisces about the days "when you could actually hear what they were singing about".
So while we can all appreciate a bit of 'Sinatra' now and again, there don't seem to be too many 50's style hits emerging in the Top 10 these days. It's a vanishing genre and one day the rock music that I get lost in could one day 'dry-up' in a similar manner.
It may still be early days, but when the masses change allegiances I pledge to forever 'Rock On'!

etiquette gone underground

Don't get me wrong - I love this city. But there are times, and perhaps my outlook is slightly tainted by sleep deprivation, that you wish you could fly rather than be subjected to the nightmare that is the London Underground.
This morning, as well as the stations being infested with fully armed police officers, the severe delays resulted in me being late for work when I should have arrived half an hour early.
I'll cut to the worst of it - some nasty guy shoved me out of the way to get to a seat that was rightfully mine and several fellow passengers, unapologetically, elbowed me in the head. But the BEST was the man exiting the station in front of me: he put his (defective) ticket through the gate and when his didn't work I had already touched mine through. So he casually strolled through the gate on my ticket as I was viciously thumped back by the brutal barriers. Just to taunt me, he turned and gave me a cheery smile before sauntering off. I proceeded to 'huff and puff' my way to the station assistant who then interrogated me on the authenticity of my ticket. Did he not realise that I was a victim in a world with no protocol, where it is simply a case of 'survival of the fittest'?

But it can be fun too as Annie Mole points out in going underground.

PA Roxy tip #2

NEVER leave the house without an umbrella when living in London.

will we ever find a balance?

I was reading in the Metro (for those non-Londoners, it is the free newspaper that you get at the tube station every morning) this morning that BP's profit's have risen 29% in the last year. They are now enjoying an hourly revenue of £1.4 million which is equivalent to £384 per second!!
So, if there is a handful of people enjoying a percentage of these earnings and they, more than likely, have more money than they could ever dream of spending in a lifetime, why are there still so many children starving in Africa? I can't be the only one that questions why greed is abundant today.
When is it enough and when will people start to open their eyes and realise that their overindulgences (of which I, admittedly, am a culprit) represent another's necessities? I can not fathom how the world doesn't blink at the notion of a footballer earning £20 million a year. For what really? So that we can shout and cheer for 2hrs on a Saturday?
Perhaps I am ignorant in thinking that a shift in priorities is the solution to a crisis; a situation that has sparked the need for global leaders to fly across the world in their private jets (undoubtedly using BP fuel) to 'discuss' the matter.
So, for those of us who are content with our 'morsels' (in comparison) and still choose to reach out - www.redcross.org.uk/westafrica

stressing the need for peace

When you live in a city like London, there are times when your need to escape the hubbub becomes so overwhelming that you fear a loss of reasoning if you do not find a suitable retreat.
After 2 months of cramming more undertakings into my life than you would witness in an episode of "24" I found myself running quite empty. So, last night I left work with one purpose in mind - find a quiet place in London.
For all of you who are against major corporations 'taking over the world' you will be displeased to hear that my friends and I are Starbucks devotees. This in mind, my natural path to tranquility took me straight to Starbucks in Borders bookshop. To my dismay it was overrun with loud, enthusiatic coffee consumers, so I did a speedy 180° turn and headed down the road.
But, as you would expect in a city of 15 million people, I ran straight into a friend from Sydney!
After a 40 min, in-depth catch up in the middle of rush-hour on Oxford St, I continued my journey towards familiar territory (thanks to post-Hillsong coffee on a Sunday) at Tottenham Court Rd. After my trek, I couldn't even feign interest in the jazz band that had attracted the other half of London that wasn't in the previous Starbucks!
I did eventually regain some sanity while listening to cd's in the Virgin Megastore and surrendered to the fact that if it is quiet that I yearn for, I clearly live in the wrong city.