Those of you who like watching celebrities dance on TV may well be horrified to have learned that the new Strictly host is Josh Widdecombe. Not a patch on the former host, old Wink' (Claudia Winkelman).
Today is, I'm presuming in the US, but maybe elsewhere too, "National Repeat Day".
I'll let them explain...
Ever had an experience that was so amazing, it’s worth doing twice? Or said something so brilliant that it simply bears repeating? Well, that’s exactly what this day is all about.
What?!?
National Repeat Day invites people to lean into the oddly satisfying side of doing something again on purpose. It can be as simple as replaying a favourite song or as ambitious as recreating an entire “best day ever” itinerary.
Was this written by AI? What exactly is "oddly satisfying" about doing something you like again? Why do I need a special day to play my favourite song again?
This post was inspired by a new song from Stephen Wilson
Jr., an Americana artist I’ve only recently discovered. He’s worthy of further
investigation if this sort of thing is your bag.
Anyway, the chorus informs us, “There ain't a
lot of boys named Gary these days”, a reminder of how birth names fall in and
out of fashion. (Amusingly, they’ve got the actor Gary Sinise to star in the
video… although it doesn’t end well for him.) This got me thinking about
the names of the kids Sam goes to school with… versus the ones I went to school
with.
I have a nephew called Gary. He’s about ten or twelve years
younger than me. But there are no Garys in Sam’s school. Neither is there a
Neil or a Sean, the names of my other nephews.
I started to think about the most common names of kids I
grew up with.
Sam doesn’t know any Richards. No Ricks or Rickys either.
And while he probably knows a few dicks… there are definitely no Dicks.
The weird thing is, I didn’t go to school with a single one
of those. In fact, if you’d asked me when I was a kid, I would have told you
they were all old men names. Harry Bamforth was an old farmer who lived across
the fields from us. So was Arthur Lockwood. And Frank Shaw. Albert Tatlock and
Alf Roberts were old blokes on Coronation Street. Eli and Isaac were names I
only read about in Old Testament RE lessons.
I wonder if, in another 20 years’ time, the classrooms will be full of Garys, Darrens and Daves again? There probably won't be many Donalds... but I could be wrong.
A final word today from Nigel (no Nigels in Sam's school either)...
A woman who described herself as "a little bit 'Bridget', A little bit 'Ally', a little bit 'Sex and the City'" And chose to call her baby boy Fred As a childishly rebellious attempt at a clever reaction To those who might have expected her to call him Julian or Rupert Bit of advice, call him Rupert, it fits, and besides it's a good name Don't be calling him Fred or Archie With all its cheeky but lovable working class scamp connotations Unless you really do have plans for him To spend his life in William Hills waiting For them to weigh in at Newton Abbot
In case you're wondering - yes, there will be a follow-up to this post about girl's names.
Damn it - I missed that conference. If I'd known about it before, I'd have been there like a shot.
Cryptozoology is the study of animals that are legendary, extinct, or unknown, and whose existence is disputed or unsubstantiated. Not that anyone in their right mind would dispute Bigfoot or Nessie... but there are some crazy folk out there.
That's Huey Morgan's favourite Queen song. He used to do a Radio 2 show in the middle of the night between Friday and Saturday that I always used to listen to (one of the last Radio 2 shows I bothered with) and he'd play that every other week.
And next, we have a best straight out of the old testament, And next, we have a best straight out of the Old Testament, whose "bones are tubes of bronze, his limbs like bars of iron”...
Imagine you’re standing in line in a coffee shop, waiting to
be served. It’s a long line and all the people in front of you are ordering
those silly drinks that involve whipped cream, caramel syrup and heart
attacks. What might you do to entertain yourself?
Now imagine you’re sitting at a bus stop and the bus is
late. These days, lots of city centre bus stops have those little clocks fitted
which tell you how long you have to wait till the next bus arrives. Only
instead of counting down, that number just seems to be stuck… or even getting
bigger. How might you pass the time?
Finally, imagine you’ve arranged to meet friends in the pub,
at the cinema, or somewhere in the centre of town. Only they’re running late
and you’ve got nothing to do but wait. Or… is there something else you could be
doing?
If your answer to any of those questions involves checking
your phone, then you’re suffering one of the major symptoms of the modern
malaise. And hey, maybe you’re not going on Tiktok or Snapchat or the book of
faces… maybe you’re doing some online banking, trying to crack today’s Wordle
or reading a fascinating blog post about how many different bands there are
called The Jerks (quite a few, in case you’re wondering: I’m sure I’ll get to
them in due course). Whatever it is, I can pretty much guarantee you’re not
doing what you would have done in this same situation 30 or 40 years ago.
You’re not allowing yourself to be bored.
And your brain is suffering because of that.
We’ve talked a fair bit about the mental health dangers of
internet and social media addiction during this series.
Part of the problem is ease of access. When the internet arrived on the scene about
30 years ago, you had to sit down at a computer, dial it up (which could take
up to 5 minutes in my house) and then crawl around a clunky, always crashing
cyberspace with limited options and plenty of built-in frustration.
Remember
watching slowly while every image on the page downloaded like one of those
novelty pens you turn upside down to watch the lady slowly lose her clothing?
(I don’t know why that particular simile popped into my mind. It’s not as
though anybody ever used the internet to look at naked pictures.)
That’s all changed. Today, we carry the internet with us
wherever we go, so every possible distraction is available instantly, any time
we want it. Queueing up in a coffee shop, waiting for the bus, killing time in response to ever-delayed friends… we need never be bored again! You see it everywhere you look.
Whenever people are alone with nothing to do, out comes their phone. They don’t
even have to be standing or sitting still. They’re even using it as a
distraction from the interminable emptiness of walking down the street (watch
out for that lamp post!).
“It’s good to be bored sometimes, to have that dead time. That’s when ideas come. If we’re on our phone checking Facebook, we lose some precious time that previously we used for daydreaming: gazing out of the window and having ideas blossom.”
Once you start reading up on this, you'll find hundreds of articles dedicated to the benefits of boredom. Scientists, business leaders and new age hippies all agree - being bored is good for your brain. We all know we get eyestrain if we stare at screens too long. Turns out we also get brain strain.
Scientist Catherine Price, author of How to Break Up With Your Phone runs digital detox sessions for chronic screen addicts to help them repair their brains. Tech writer Kevin Roose of the New York Times consulted her when he became aware of his own addiction...
My symptoms were all the typical ones: I found myself incapable of reading books, watching full-length movies or having long uninterrupted conversations. Social media made me angry and anxious, and even the digital spaces I once found soothing (group texts, podcasts, YouTube rabbit holes) weren’t helping.
In his article, Roose explains how he went about a full digital detox...
If I was going to repair my brain, I needed to practice doing nothing. So during my morning walk to the office, I looked up at the buildings around me, spotting architectural details I’d never noticed before. On the subway, I kept my phone in my pocket and people-watched — noticing the nattily dressed man in the yellow hat, the teens eating hot tacos and laughing, the kid with Velcro shoes. When a friend ran late for our lunch, I sat still and stared out the window instead of checking Twitter.
Since starting my new job, I finally find myself in a privileged position of being able to do nothing at certain times of the day. I mostly teach students 1:1 or in small groups, and in English that will often involve setting a lengthy task (creative writing is best) and then letting students get on with it. In my old job, I would have used that time to circulate the room, answer questions, help people who were stuck... and if time permitted, maybe catch up on a bit of marking or paperwork. In my current job, I get to stare out the window. How wonderful is that? I realise, I'm very fortunate. Most teachers would kill for the same opportunity. I wish I could give them all the gift of boredom... the profession would be in a much healthier state if it was full of bored teachers rather than teachers on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Although, to be honest, I'm not really sure boredom is what we're talking about here. If you asked me if I was ever bored, my first response would probably be: never. I always have a million and one things I want to do... or think about. The only time I do feel bored is when I'm stuck doing something I don't want to... like a lengthy meeting or an interminable online training session about something I already know. When I talk about giving the gift of boredom, that's not what I want to offer. What I really want is to give you all the chance to get busy... doing nothing.
Allowing our minds to wander can be hugely beneficial to our wellbeing, our imagination and our creativity. Surely this is great news for everyone - doing nothing is good for us!
If you're going out this weekend, don't go out. I mean, you can go out, but don't. Stay alert. If you're going out. Or if you're not. But don't go out. Even though you don't have to stay indoors. So you can go out. But don't go out.
Hopefully this week's Saturday Snapshots weren't quite so confusing...
10. Oy, Arnold (on Dover Beach), aka Ralph-like.
"Aka Ralph-like" was an anagram.
Matthew Arnold wrote On Dover Beach. (What? I'm an English teacher.)
I have to admit, that song used to annoy the shit out of me when I was a teenager. What kind of pop star gets his bloody kid to witter all through the song? I kind of appreciate it a little more now I'm a dad.
9. Crowned on 42, 59 & 110... sounds like a heartbreaker.
2. Mr. White's nightwear identifies #1 missing person.
Mr. White was Harvey Keitel. In his PJs.
The missing person in the #1 photo this week was the Beach Boy who wasn't a Wilson brother (he was their cousin): Mike Love. Al Jardine was also missing, in case you're a pedant.
That's 50 Cent, Fiddy to his mates, introducing us to the second half of our countdown of songs relating to numbers. Here's what you had for me this week...
When Sting is finally called to answer for his many, many crimes against songwriting, this is one of those tunes that will spend quite some time in the witness box, particularly these lines...
I'm sure there are hundreds more songs that drop a lyrical mention to the decade that spawned rock 'n' roll, but we haven't got time to go fishing for them, so I'll finish with this... which doesn't appear to have much to do with the decade at all, but - as with 99% of all other Wedding Present tunes - is actually about screwed up relationships...
(Surprisingly, The Swede didn't suggest that last one though he did suggest another Mark E. Smith tunes, Masquerade, for these cheery lyrics: '...like a fish dish the grim visage altered again and again, the fifty percent interest ran out today, account altered...')
And then there was this... my runner-up this week... a clear winner most other weeks. Aimee Mann's debut album takes some beating...
...and with songs like that, Douglas, you're welcome back here anytime.
However, sometimes I just have to go for the obvious choice... so here it is, a tune I've always had a great fondness for.
King of Pedantry Rigid Digit pointed out that Paul Simon only actually names 5 of the 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover...
Just slip out the back, Jack, make a new plan, Stan
Don't need to be coy, Roy, just listen to me
Hop on the bus, Gus, don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee, and get yourself free
...and both he and Alyson wondered what the other 45 may be.
To answer that question, I can direct you towards Carol Brown by Flight of the Conchords, in which Jermaine Clement gives you at least another 19, including...
Loretta broke my heart in a letter
She told me she was leaving and her life would be better
Joan broke it off over the phone
After the tone she left me alone
Jen said she'd never ever see me again
When I saw her again, she said it again
Jan met another man
Liza got amnesia, just forgot who I am
Felicity said there was no electricity
Emily, no chemistry
Fran, ran, Bruce turned out to be a man
Flo had to go, I couldn't go with the flow
Carol Brown just took the bus out of town
But I'm hoping that you'll stick around
Mimi will no longer see me
Brittany, Brittany hit me
Paula, Persephone, Stella, and Stephanie
There must be fifty ways that lovers have left me
Mona, you told me you were in a coma
Tiffany, you said that you had an epiphany
(Bruce is my favourite.)
And while I can't name the other 26 off the top of my head, I can also direct you Okkervil River's Plus Ones, a very fine song which reveals #51 (as well as revealing what happens to the 97th tear and the 100th luftballoon, among others)...
51st way to leave your lover
Admittedly, it doesn't seem to be as gentle
Or as clean as all the others
Still. The problem is all inside your head, it seems to me...
49 next week. I have a feeling these posts are about to get longer and longer...
The Blue Room song comes from the soundtrack to Ferris Bueller's Day Off, which wins it enormous points. But I'm too afraid of Skin from Skunk Anansie to tell her she's a loser, so...
I'm Sorry, Moz... this one goes to the Flowers. Never mind, you'll get another chance in a moment.
Of course, the big problem with Morrissey is right there in the title of this song. He's not sorry. He's never sorry. If only he could be, just once...
Tough one. Normally I'd let The Clash beat The Beatles because Phoney Beatlemania has bitten the dust... but I have a soft spot for early Lennon when he's prepared to shred his vocal chords as he does here. The Fabs take it.
Bill Bixby used to tell us not to make him angry... we wouldn't like him when he's angry. We like Alice when he gets angry though... and I guess he's going to be angry at losing out to Elvis here, but it takes a lot to beat My Aim Is True.
There was a time when I'd have welcomed being followed by Aunty Madge... these days, I'd be quick to get a restraining order. (Warren Beatty duets with her here... he probably thought this song was about him.)
Edwyn, on the other hand, can follow me any time he likes.
Ten odes to the humble vacuum cleaner (and other Hoover-related thingamabobs). Unfortunately, I couldn't find any songs named after the Dyson. Sorry, Sir James.
Despite only ever having one UK hit (a punked up version of Nellie The Elephant, very popular in 80s school discos), The Toy Dolls are, surprisingly, still in the go and still releasing records. This year's is called Olgacoustic, presumably because lead singer Michael "Olga" Algar is busking on it. Their previous record surely had the best title ever though: The Album After The Last One.
One more, two more Fleas on the bedroom floor No ones ever seen her, with a vacuum cleaner Three more, four more Mice unite at the kitchen door It weren't no rotten rumour, He could never move her, And I never saw her with a hoover.
Alex Turner is a great lyricist, finding grubby romance in the everyday mundanity of old man's pubs, pick 'n' mix bags and late night taxi journeys. But here, he bows down to a true master, reworking John Cooper Clarke's poem of the same name...
I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathing in your dustI wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust...
Before going on to a superlative solo career, Aimee Mann was the lead singer of synth-heavy 80s new wave band 'Til Tuesday. This is one of their best,but it's not as timeless as her later work.
A politically charged anthem from the mighty Christians... nothing to do with cleaning up your house, unless they're asking crooked politicians to do just that.
1. Elvis Costello - Hoover Factory
Elvis pays tribute to the distinctive Art Deco design of London's Hoover Building... now owned by Tesco.
I don't think I'll be compiling a Top Ten Tesco Songs anytime soon.
Five miles out of London on the Western Avenue
Must have been a wonder when it was brand new
Talkin' 'bout the splendour of the Hoover factory
I know that you'd agree if you had seen it too...
