Warm Front

30 December 1999

The high pressure has gone elsewhere, and today it's back to rain and grey. Well, at least you know where you are with rain and grey - things can't get any worse. There isn't much to say this morning, the day before my birthday, the day before the anniversary of my mother's death, and - oh, I nearly forgot - the day before a thousand years ends. Funny they haven't mentioned that much on the telly. That totals five major things in ten days. And you wonder why December isn't my favourite month?

Housebound again yesterday, but back to work today. Once again it's a brief working week, punctuated by public holidays and extra pay on the days we do work. Well worth ironing a shirt for.

Caused some consternation on the depression boards by releasing details of the December set. Ah well - depression never could be couched in sweet rosebud phrases. And I did warn them. Whether this was altruism, or simply to get a few more hits I don't know, and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Not terribly nervous about tomorrow, as nothing could be worse than Christmas was, and already the skies are lightening. The three days of high pressure were a great boon. Plus the BBC is doing a 28 hour broadcast. I hope it will be better than the eclipse day, which was totally parochial.

This broadcast beautifully illustrates the televisual dichotomy. They strive to get as many as possible sitting in front of the box, yet if everybody did that, there would be no damn thing to show. Television demands that at least some people do stuff.

My own favourite parts of this years webstuff have been when I put aside stylised floss and wrote more honestly. These were the pieces about my friend's death, about Dusty Springfield's death, this depression set, and on a lighter note, my first ever bingo calling. Although this last is a manufactured piece, I just kinda like it.

I won't comment on any other sites, as to quote the late, great Quentin Crisp, "Other people are a mistake."