It’s all very well, but the Passat was something of a distress purchase.
We’d had Merc after Merc, and fact is after you’ve had something that solid, fast and yet reasonably economical, going back to a VW is not an easy decision.
I wanted the Passat to last us for five years or more, and it will probably get through the hundred thousand or more miles or we’ll probably do in that time, but it just doesn’t set me on fire in any way. It is comfortable, but nothing amazing. It isn’t fast despite its 140 bhp. The turbo gives really short bursts of boost that have you changing gear lots if you want to create anything like an interesting pace. It’s horrible through bends if pushed. Really horrible, to the extent that I thought the rear shocks were knackered. And then there’s the only moderate economy, no better than the Merc which had 50% more engine and 60% more power.
All this has taken me to CarCraft to look at other used cars. I drove myself mad last year when I was looking at all sorts, and suddenly I’m finding myself there again.
The good thing is that the car hasn’t lost much value in the time I’ve arsed around in it. If I sold it privately I should get about £800 less than I paid, and given I have already put a lot of miles on I don’t think that’s bad.
Look out for more frustrated car talk over the weeks to come!
I haven’t driven to London for ages and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to it on Tuesday afternoon.
In the end it turned out one of the better drives I’ve had in ages, aided by a couple of things.
The i-pod played a major part. In 70 or more tracks that it threw out on the shuffle I reckon I only advanced five. That’s great going considering I have some pretty odd music stored up there, and stuff that tends to come out at the wrong times!
Another major factor in the the trip being a good one was traffic. Even though I drove through at least 30 miles of 50 mph limit, the traffic kept moving all the time.
The sun shone.
Hey. All in all it was a truly excellent drive.
The I met an old mate Spencer and we drank rounds of different beers and different whiskeys and that ensured that Wednesday was a hard day no matter what way you cut it.
Spencer and I had good plans to talk potential work projects together, but alas that never happened.
Is it really a good idea to try to work with someone you have always known as a mate? I’m not sure. None of the projects I have done with friends have been particularly good. Money is always an issue. I don’t want to charge them normal rates, but then I’m blocking real clients if I work with friends. Difficult.
Gotta write about the fab Shoreditch House where we stayed on Wednesday night. Perhaps that’s for tomorrow.
The sometimes grumpy and older than his years Jon Myers Glass got it all back together last night at an excellent gig at the Academy, Manchester.
This followed a day of sunshine, which in itself followed a great drive on Sunday.
All mind expanding events that have served to give me the kick up the arse I sometimes need.
Too much wearing of a suit can make the unwary into a suit.
Nice line Mr G, I’m quite pleased with that!
Last night was Mark Lanegan, polymath of the rock scene just now. I first came across him as the singer of Screaming Trees many years ago, thanks to the once excellent Swordfish Records in Birmingham. Since then he has done a couple of sweet albums with Isobel Campbell and with Queens of the Stone Age, and just under his own name.
Last night was a little disappointing visually – he just stood there and moaned into the mic, and didn’t say anything other than goodbye, but what a moan the man has.
In my head I was driving a big American car too fast across the desert, with a bad beautiful girl, feet on the dash, windows down, couple of big dogs lounging across the back bench. And I so loved the picture that old Lanegan’s motionless delivery didn’t matter too much.
Made me regret again buying such a sensible car as ours.
And I’ll regret it for the drive down to London this afternoon. But at least I’ll play great tunes at high volume.
Perhaps it’s just Mondays that tire you out, the thought of it, the week stretching out in front of you, goals that you’ll exceed on some, but others that you’ll look at in a couple of days and decide the actually it’s just not worth bothering about.
This one promises to be busy. Tonight we’re seeing Mark Lanegan at The Academy in Manchester. Last night we missed Lambchop at the cathedral which is a shame, but I was driving all day and couldn’t face anything more challenging than beer and curry after that.
Then tomorrow it’s off to London to meet a couple of mates and possible buy a cool old B&O music centre (remember the term?) from another friend who has had it in his garage for years. Hope it still looks as cool as I remember when it was in his folks’ place a couple of decades ago.
I’m hoping to have a poke around the east end where we used to live to get some bits in for Lou down in Cornwall. He’s about to open another self catering place under his new name of The Cornish Way, it’ll be a shabby chic kind of place, although knowing Lou it won’t be very much on the shabby side and I’m hoping to go to Labour and Wait in particular, and some of the places on Cheshire street where I’ve bought so many presents in the past.
The on Friday we have bad drinking friends coming.
Oh God, no wonder I feel tired already!
Should be a lot of fun though. Bring it on.
Sometimes life sends you flowers. Metaphorical ones at least.
Yesterday the weather lifted spirits, left people smiling, girls wore shorter skirts, or put dresses on for the first time this year, we all feel good when the girls get their dresses out again.
The dog was happy having longer walks and more of them, and is sleeping her way through the horribleness of today as a consequence.
People spent more money.
Down in Cornwall Lou said people were on the beach sitting. That sounds great and if you can get out of the wind I guess that’s completely credible. And last night here in Chorlton more people were out having a beer on the street, and a beer on the street is such a lovely thing that it inevitably leads to another beer, then when it gets chilly you’re hooked so you go inside for more still. Ah the joy of drinking beer!
Today is crap though.
Colder. Windy. And the spring like joy is but a memory.
No worries. It’ll come again. Just please mr rain god make it soon.
Somehow typing the above reminded me that I must book Jamies Italian for Mrs G and I next week. It has just opened in an old Midland Bank on King Street and promises to be quite a place.
Pizza. Pasta. Basta.
Oh how I wish life had a stupid filter!
I’ve just deleted the blog I wrote last night. Good job you can do that! It wasn’t that it was so bad, I just made it obvious how my feelings are running and anyone reading it could easily have put two and two together and then suggested that I’d said things that I hadn’t. If that doesn’t make sense that could be a good thing!
But how much of life could do with a stupid filter?
The car that doesn’t start when the intended driver is drunk.
The text to the wrong person saying you love them, or want to get up to bad stuff with them, the one that you then send to your mum, or someone else’s mum.
The email to your boss.
The Facebook post about your boss, when he’s one of your friends that you’d forgotten, having added him years ago when you used to get along.
Oh, and what you say to the spotty youth posing as a policeman and telling you off for something. And then he writes it down. And then you say – wow! I’m impressed you can write at your age!” And so it goes on.
Perhaps there’s app potential there? You know, like a modern day Luke Rhinehart’s dice, but one designed to keep you out of trouble.
As a lad my stupid filter just didn’t exist. I would have done so so so much better at school and work if I had one.
But isn’t that part of the fun too?
Do you sometimes feel that just managing to work out which way is up would be an achievement in itself, let alone actually delivering anything.
Having been rather quiet for a few weeks I suddenly find myself in the happy position of having as much work (or more) as I can handle. Much of it is prospecting which involves running around answering all sorts of difficult and often irrelevant questions in the hope that you’ll land a piece of work, but no use moaning about it because it’s a vital stage. In fact ironically much of my work is centred around helping others with their pitches.
At the moment I’m working with a few colleagues of the past on potential jobs as diverse as a fish wholesaler, a sculpture garden, a small building society and a much bigger FS company.
Also one of the blogs I write for someone else’s website has pulled what could turn into a very interesting lead this morning from an established people consulting company, a gang looking at efficient use and management of people, which of course is dear to my heart and key to every brand.
It may seem that stopping to write something like this is wasting time when I obviously have plenty to be getting on with. That may be the case to a degree, but it’s also hugely useful to help me get my head straight and working out the way forward. Like a chat, but with no one in the room.
After a fantastic afternoon yesterday and 17 degrees in the sunshine today is back to proper Manchester weather in case any of us were getting ahead of ourselves and declaring spring was fast pproaching.
I’m hoping that tonight we might finally get to see The Artist. I’ve made a cunning proposal to Mrs G that we go to Wagamamas after she finished work, then on to the cinema on Deansgate. She’s not keen on the film but she’s very keen on Wagamamas. so one might just tip the balance in the favour of the other. The good lady also has two for one cinema tickets too.
Between now and then I need to write up my proposal for Mr Sofa Man who I met yesterday and get that off to him, looking good in a mix of Powerpoint and pdfs. I actually think a great start could just be offering his visitors a coffee or tea when they arrive. The ones who actually are serious about buying will be up for it as it will relax the pace. The ones just being nosy, or poking around will feel the threat and clear off. Funny how something so simple can make a difference. It came to me as I heard someone in the kitchen brewing up. There I was about to potentially spend a couple of grand, but I didn’t get offered a cuppa. And I was thirsty!
Don’t worry I haven’t been to Sofa Workshop, but I have been to a sofa workshop. I nipped over to Huddersfiled this morning to visit Distinctive Chesterfields. Not actually in Chesterfield, but not that far from there. It was great. Just a fairly random showroom, then out the back were the guys actually making the sofas.
Because they’re made on the spot they can be tailored just to your requirements.
I was there to discuss the business and how we might push it gradually up market moving towards be-spoke at a high price, but I was fascinated to learn how it’s all done.
The drive over was through thick and scary fog, but coming back was better and lower on the hills was beautiful, sun made hazy by the higher mists. Doggo and I took advantage and took a good long walk around a reservoir, and satin unseasonable sunshine for 30 minutes, just loving it, well, I did, she just kept bringing me stones and whining when I wouldn’t throw them.
By way of contrast I then fought my way through to IKEA. Blimey. I didn’t even find two of the three very simple things I went there for. I admire IKEA, but hell I hate going there.
I mentioned my mates in Birmingham who have a place in north Wales and for who I took a photo of the stained glass dragon windows at InSitu the architectural antiques place on the Chester Road.
When the fella said he would try to come up to look at them I never really expected him to, but then he called on Monday afternoon and said they were on the way.
Not only that but they loved the bloody things and agreed a price, drove into town to get a deposit, then bought them. They’ll be back in a couple of weeks to pick them up.
When I was waiting for them I nipped across the road to a Chesterfield maker’s showroom and looked at some lovely leather sofas, there was even one in an amazing plush velvet. Purple of course. It looked fantastic.
I’m kinda of thinking back over the week today as I’ve been stuck in avoiding the rain all day. Even the dog seems distinctly pissed off and doesn’t want to do anything I ask her to.
Grim up north, just like they say.