Monday 5 September 2011


This weekend I bought a diary. Not a diary as in "Dear diary, today I was full of pointless self-important angst which makes it feel worthwhile to record the minutiae of my meaningless life so I sat down and wrote this diary entry" but a thing like a very small folded up calendar with no pictures. The idea is that it will tell me what I'm supposed to be doing on different days. I'm already part of two google calendars which tell me when I'm supposed to be playing in a band or helping another band but as I don't have an internet connection, or a computer, or a tablet, or a smartphone, my access to them is somewhat erratic.

When something really bad happens, it's quite common human nature to overreact and try make sure that it can never happen again. The last time my washing line fell down I replaced all the pulleys and chain plates with chandlery for ocean racing yachts; they started the League of Nations after the first world war; they started the United Nations after the second world war; and on numerous Sunday mornings I have declared that I'll never drink again.

Last weekend I stood my friend Redacted up, and had she not rung me to ask if I was on my way, I would have been exactly a week late. Never again! I'm going to write all my appointments in a diary and check it every single day. At least until I forget.

Richard "techno-luddite" B