If Music be the Food of Love..................

I figured it was time to do some more music for my juke box. Actually, I was depressed having seen Eastenders and, now that the lovely Heather is married off to Minty, I needed something to cheer me up...........I'm trying to get over her loss but it's tough. She follows a long list of women I have placed on pedestals and who have missed their chance. The likes of Helen Shapiro, Lena Zavaroni, Francesca McAlea (1st year, Junior School) and Kylie could all have won the great jackpot of love if they'd played their cards right but I shall get over Heather as I have got over the others.

I always go through the angst barrier selecting blog music. It has, essentially, to be special to me but also I want readers to enjoy and, maybe, think about what they hear (small moment of panic as I suddenly think of anyone reading switching off straight away and I do it all in vain!).

This latest selection comes with a list of reasons why each piece has been chosen. Maybe it's of interest, maybe not? Here goes anyway:

Green Manalishi - Fleetwood Mac
I went to a band rehearsal tonight and they were trying out the Judas Priest version of this. The reason why it's here is to demonstrate just how many good songs I've forgotten about - this being a supreme example.

SWLABR - Cream
A trademark offering from the first (and greatest) supergroup. I could have taken any track from the album 'Disraeli Gears' and been happy to have it here. The title is an acronym of "She Was Like a Bearded Rainbow"; like the song's lyrics, it's not supposed to make much sense!

Hang on to a Dream - The Nice
Brian Davison, the drummer, died this week so this is a tribute to him. I fell in love with their music very early on and they performed at the first gig I ever saw, along with Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix Experience, The Move and Amen Corner. Not a bad 17/6d worth! Although people tend to remember Emerson's time afterwards with Greg Lake and Carl Palmer, The Nice were pioneers of progressive music and stretched musical boundaries.

Neil Young - Heart of Gold


The first single I ever bought. I fell in love with that song and, subsequently, Young has played an enormous part in my musical life. A man of total integrity, he continues to explore different styles of music which, although not always to my taste, never fail to provoke thought, emotion and excitement.

Pink Floyd - Grantchester Meadows
From the album 'Umma Gumma', this was the height of Floyd's exploratory (and chemically induced) phase. The live tracks are just amazingly weird and I well remember hearing them around a friend's house, suitably in the mood (shall we say!). Meadows is such a contrast and I love its gentleness.

Sky - Tuba Smarties
Sky were a band of talented musicians, including classical guitarist John Williams. I saw them at Brighton and this particular track lives in my memory. Ex-Blue Mink bassist and sought-after session man, Herbie Flowers, wandered on stage dressed as Noddy and, carrying a tuba festooned in fairy lights, proceeded to play this. The whole audience were in hysterics and it was a magical moment of utter frivolity, given the musicianship displayed both before and subsequently.


Sky - Toccata
Sky made 4 albums and this is a more typical example of their style. Combining both their own compositions as well as classical adaptions, they are hidden jewels in the treasure chest of music.

Phil Collins - Another Day in Paradise
I seem to be drawn to emotive songs. This makes me sad.

Neil Young - Fuckin' Up
Neil at his grungiest best. Backed by Crazy Horse, they seem to gel wonderfully together. How strange that a guy whose voice is not his strongest asset and 3 musicians who are not technically the most proficient produce such hard-hitting, archetypal rock music. I also kind of relate to the lyrics hence this particular choice.

Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me
Just a wonderful, wonderful singer and lyricist - worthy of any music list

John Mayall - Country Road
From 'Jazz Blues Fusion', arguably my favourite album ever. Mayall has put together an incredible collection of musicians who seem to have found a perfect blend of the two styles. The line-up also holds the distinction of being the only one of his many line-ups which made a second album. Those of you that know the frequency of Mayall's personnel changes will appreciate how happy he must have been with them!

Jimi Hendrix - Castles Made of Sand
I think this is the saddest song I have ever heard. The simplicity of the lyrics seems to emphasise an overwhelming sense of hopelessness of Life. Probably the most-played song of mine over the years (but gladly decreasingly); I know that when I reach for this, all is definitely not right in my world.

Crosby Stills & Nash - Long Time Gone


I love their harmonies and the skill with which they can write a song of protest and make it beautiful as well as meaningful. This track showcases the voice of Steve Stills, which is just amazing.

Neil Young - All Along the Watchtower
From 'Road Rock', a real family concert which included his wife, Pegi and his half-sister, Astrid alongside Chrissie Hynde, this track has grown on me over time. I guess once I never thought anyone could even attempt to match Hendrix' version but I much prefer this to Dylan's.

Traffic - Riding High
Any Traffic track is worth including, purely for Stevie Winwood's wonderful voice. My own particular CD of this album ('Far From Home') is a promo which was given to me by their manager so it's got a special little place in my collection.

Ian Dury - Itinerant Child
I wept when Dury died. His lyrics were not only poetry but an observational journey through life. He made people smile, he didn't give a damn yet he cared - an epitaph which I would gratefully accept.



Well, that's about it. I hope you enjoy them. Use the playlist and have a meander through my choices. Your comments will, as always, be appreciated.

My 100th Post

Well, who'd have thought it? My 100th blog and I've absolutely no idea what to say!

I don't know why it has become a landmark for me but a landmark it is. I feel I ought to mark it in some spectacular way such as a million pound giveaway, a widget on the blogsite that, when pressed, releases an exquisite array of cyber-fireworks into the sky or perhaps a line of perfectly groomed llamas performing the Triumphal March from Aida on golden trumpets? I was thinking of doing some sort of giveaway but the thought of parting with my rapidly-depleting Caramac stash fills me with terror.

According to my statistics, there have been 6300 visitors in the last 10 months or so, the last 8 weeks have seen 1536 visitors from 60 countries and 43% of the population want me as the next Pope (one of these is not true).

My blogs have covered a multitude of subjects: rants, events, observations, high times, low times, good times and bad. I've tried to be honest, I've hopefully entertained and provoked but most of all, I've been me. Me, that is, in all my various incarnations.

My dear superhero and alter ego, Bertie Bassett: Righter of wrongs, King of Cool and champion of the lime-green Lycra, he enables me to realise all my fantasies and gives me the confidence to face the world when, sometimes, his creator is taking a break. I hope he's perceived as a fairly loveable chap and people accept him for what he is - a force for good and a thoroughly good egg.

Bertie's sister, Bunty: Tweed-suited and statuesque Agony Aunt with a penchant for cigars and short-haired ladies. She hides a heart of gold behind a tough, no-nonsense exterior and evolved through Bertie's efforts to provide succour to the occupants of the Big Brother House. Currently living on a Greek island with her P.A., Brunhilde, she will no doubt reappear when the Big Brother House is once more occupied.

Can I just mention here, another incarnation that I wish were mine: the adorably unwholesome but trustingly naive Reg McDuffe. His love of ferrets and compost heaps is overshadowed by a greater, unrequited, love which he pursues with hope and optimism. Reg's creator is a mystery but I feel a great affinity towards the failed Superhero apprentice. Perhaps Reg embodies my desire for a simple life? He certainly exemplifies my eternal faith that everything will be alright in the end.

The final incarnation is called Graham: I can't even begin to try and explain him.

I'm fortunate that several friends and celebrities have been kind enough to add their personal endorsements and these, totally unedited and unsolicited, comments are reproduced below:-

Great-Aunt Honoria: He's a lovely boy and, apart from that trouble with the donkey (which was never proved), has always been a model nephew.

Rafa Benitez: The body of a demi-god, the skills of Ronaldo and the face of Peter Crouch - still, 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

Jonathan Ross: Weally, this is undoubtedly a top-wanked blog.

Robert Mugabe: Mr Bassett, like so many Britons, exemplifies all that is good in the world.

Jordan: Er, how much do I get paid to write something nice?

Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II: People of the Commonwealth, rejoice at this momentous occasion. One is pleased to ..................................Philip, don't do that all over the photograph of Mr Al Fayed! ...................where was one? Ah yes, we are pleased to proclaim Lord Bassett of the Lime, Poet Laureate and Keeper of the Royal Speedos.

Sir Bob Geldof: Oi'm tinkin' dat BertAid is a great way of feedin' de fookin' world. Hand over yer Haribo and help raise enough money to get me a decent haircut, yer bastards!

Graeme Norton: You could be Nancy!

George Bush: What's my name? Do I live here? What's this big, red butto.....................aaaaaaaargh!

I suppose really I just want to use this 100th blog to say a few 'thank yous'.

Thank you to all the people, events and occurrences out there which gave me blog fodder whilst raising my blood pressure accordingly. In particular, special mentions go to the staff of Somerfield, screaming children, the NHS and drivers of second-hand BMWs.

Thanks to all the special people at Digital Spy (especially the SUC thread) who provide so much good company, wit and friendship. Your care and support during the loss of my Father and my recent hospital sojourns especially helped me.

Thanks also to authors in general but particularly Miss E. Blyton who gave me such enjoyment as a child (and, incidentally, fostered my love of books, writing and the English language) as well as inspiring me to write my own Famous Five adventure.

Thanks to so many creative and talented musicians for their company in times both good and bad. Special mentions to Neil Young (of course!), Ray Davies, CSN, Robert Johnson et al. I hope my choice of blog music has provided something for every taste.

Thank you one and all for reading, thank you for supporting and helping me at times when it's been needed and, most of all, thank you for your friendship. I value your comments and know I should reply to them more. That's a promise for the future!

My blogs help, entertain and fulfil a part of me. I hope that they add a smidgeon of something good to you, my lovely reader. You've shared part of my journey through Life and I'm honoured that you so chose.

Vaya con Dios .................. and here's to many more.

Holiday Time

It's that time of year where thoughts turn to holidays. Summer is, undoubtedly, on its way as all the signs are there; ten minutes of sunshine and suddenly the loonies are wearing shorts (usually with socks!), the p-rats in the secondhand BMW convertibles have got the tops down and we all get the extreme joy of 4000 decibels of bass thumping out. The ice-cream van waits hopefully at the park entrance, hoping to serve exorbitantly-priced ice creams (along with 2cms of flake for an extra 40 pence) to long-suffering parents of screaming children and you spend 4 hours trying to find a parking space anywhere that's worth visiting.

I was watching the holiday channels on Sky the other day, hoping to tempt Mrs B into some globetrotting and it suddenly struck me that holiday descriptions are, shall we say, somewhat open to interpretation. Here then is the Bertie Guide to Holiday Speak:

'No frills airline' - Inside seat is an optional extra.

In-Flight entertainment - Naomi Campbell is on board

In-flight meal included - Oh deep joy, Pot Noodles at 35,000 feet

Fast check-in - More time in departures where you can spend lots of money on items that you don't want at a marginally cheaper price than in the High St. And why does every Departure Lounge have vast displays of Toblerone? .......oh, goody, I'm going away for 2 weeks and forgot the Toblerone - thank you British Airports Authority, you've saved my holiday from ruin!!!

Transfers included - You spend 3 hours wandering around some foreign airport looking for a tit holding an umbrella with 'Crappo Holidays' emblazoned thereon. When you find them, they're hung over because it's the middle of the night (due to the delayed flight) and they've come straight from a toga party at the Las Pisso nightclub where they spend their time forcing groups of spotty youths to drink far too much sangria in a bid to make them feel they are enjoying themselves. You're then herded into an antique coach with no air-conditioning (apart from the broken window) where Pepé, the driver, patiently waits until that blissful moment where he can have fun throwing your cases around before grinning inanely in the vain hope that someone will give him a tip and he can go and buy some deodorant.

Lively resort - Kids everywhere during the day and previously mentioned spotty youths staggering around at night, lusting after the equally pissed groups of females, all wearing clothes several sizes too small and that beautifully bright shade of red where they have slept off their hangovers on the beach all day and gently boiled.

Interesting local Church - Desperate! No bars, no restaurants and even the donkey has died.

Hotel offers traditional food - paella, chips and some strange stew that the several hundred Germans seem to adore.

Gala Dinner included - Paella with parsley garnish

Free wine - Keep away from the wine!

Child-friendly - An oxymoron. Some poor sod dressed up in an indeterminate creature costume whose sole job it is to keep the brats amused whilst the reps try and sell crappy trips to the local stuffed donkey factory outlet shop.

Feel at home - English pubs full of fat gits drinking lager and wearing football shirts.

Friendly locals - Be stopped every 5 minutes by sleazy conmen trying to flog timeshares.

Quiet location - Full of wrinklies.

Bustling - Packed so solidly, breathing in sequence is obligatory.

Large pool - Pee without anyone noticing.

Close to beach - Only 3 bus rides away and then you take your life in your hands crossing the 6 lane highway running alongside.

Budget apartment - Half-built, with a picturesque view of the communal septic tank, cold & cold running water (generally down the walls), mini-bar (supporting the ceiling), half-tiled bathroom (literally!), alarm call facility (the builders begin at 5am) and close to local amenities i.e. the abattoir, airport flight path and Wee Jock McScunner's Genuine Scottish Bar & Karaoke.

All-inclusive - Why waste all that money going abroad, looking at the sights, when you can spend 14 days not moving more than 20 metres from your room?

Never to be forgotten - Your wallet gets stolen, you spend 4 days sitting on the loo (which doesn't flush properly) due to over-indulgence at the Gala Dinner. A Roy Cropper clone latches onto you and adopts you as their new best friend and entices you to go to the Flamenco party where some corpulent Spanish bird called Consuela drags you out and makes you dance with her - you've drunk the free wine and are too rat-arsed to care until you see the photos in the morning. Worst of all, you find the heat has melted the vast amount of Toblerone you bought at the airport and ruined your souvenir stuffed donkey (complete with sombrero).

Happy holidays!!!

Up, Up & Away!!

<<< This is me!!!!!

I'm sure I'm boring everybody stupid with this Flight Simulator X lark. I remember writing previously that I'd tried earlier versions and got bored quickly but this time, I'm afraid, I am totally hooked.

From those early beginnings with a microlight, through the kamikaze stage and further on to having the confidence of actually believing that, not only can I find another airport, but actually land there, I have become a veritable Biggles aspirant.

I have to say that the technical side of it is awesome (to coin that annoyingly prevalent American import). Just downloading another aircraft and assimilating it into the software was leaving large hand-shaped lumps of hair all over the flight deck..........oops, I mean desk. These aircraft simulator creators are a strange breed: the manual for one single airplane was 84 pages long and included all specification, wiring diagrams, pre take-off visual inspection instructions, pre-taxi checks, pre-start checks, pre-take off checks etc etc. Now I really can't be arsed to do all that; I just want to take off and fly. The trouble was, with this particular aircraft, attempting so to do created a very realistic engine fire and, subsequently, a gently smouldering Bertie legging it back to the safety of the perimeter fence. It was after I spent about an hour going round all the instruments and switches religiously performing all of the flight checks that I found the "Easy" mode - bums!

Now I'd got the hang of the basic controls, I started to think about learning a few more things. I have many aircraft available, ranging from inter-war biplanes to a Boeing 747 as well as various supersonic fighters and figured I really ought to try and familiarise myself with one particular model rather than dip in here and there. I settled on the Cessna C172SP Skyhawk.

This is relatively simple to fly but incorporates the Garmin 1000. 'Uh?' I hear you ask. In order to explain, let me quote the blurb from the actual Garmin Corporation:

G1000 puts a wealth of flight-critical data at your fingertips. Its glass flightdeck presents flight instrumentation, navigation, weather, terrain, traffic and engine data on large-format, high-resolution displays.

In other words, it does virtually everything apart from make coffee but requires an amazing amount of understanding. I printed off 14 pages of explanatory notes and am gradually learning what does what, when, how and why. Mind you, might I respectfully suggest that they incorporate a CD player in future! It's a lonely life being a sky jockey.

Right, I could do all the various bits to some small degree but what next? I decided that I really rather fancied a circumnavigation of Britain so sat down and spent ages plotting a course clockwise around the coast. I figured it might be fun and would certainly hone my take-off and landing capabilities as I had vectored in 36 stops along the way! (note pilot speak - vectored!) I set the time as 4am on an August day and duly took off from Gatwick amidst a beautiful sunrise. Heading south, I was soon down to the coast and then heading west to the Isle of Wight.


9 airports later I am at Filton in Bristol, well on my way and, amazingly enough, enjoying every minute! The beauty of the software is that the terrain is totally accurate and based on satellite data photographs so it really is possible to imagine you're actually up there. Cruising serenely past Chesil Beach, gazing down at Falmouth and then the real excitement of reaching St. Just aerodrome at Lands End was so satisfying; I had reached the end of England! From here I was entering unknown territory as I knew the area I had already travelled pretty well so I now have the joy of visiting places I've never been to before - all from the comfort of my own desk.

I shall pop over to the Isle of Man and then divert via Shannon and Belfast before I head up to the Highlands & Islands, then back down the east coast and home. It's all real time so I will have some night flying to come.....wonder where the headlights are?

My apologies if you are bored to tears (assuming you made it this far) but I really do have my head in the clouds. Some people go to much greater extremes - honest. Here's a photo of someone's somewhat more serious set-up and, as you can see, I'm a mere greenhorn in the aviation world.

Just one final comment; it's possible to video one's flights but the format is unsupported outside of the software. Another happy couple of hours were spent working out how to convert and compress into a publishable format and here's my first effort. It's choppy, performed before I had really got the realism settings optimised and I was flying a very fast Pilatus turboprop at about 300 knots which I'd been in about twice. Consequently, it doesn't show off any great skills or geographic accuracy but it was fun to do..........and I did it first take!!!

(Incidentally, any mid-vid pauses which may occur are down to Blogger's buffering and not me - sorry :( )

Well, as we aeronauts say, Bravo Bravo to Tower - Over and Out!

See You Next Tuesday

OK, I admit that I'm old. I can remember when the Woodentops were still made of wood from unsustainable forests and you could feed a family of 12 on Caramacs for a whole year for half a crown. I can even remember when people spoke in pounds and ounces rather than all this kilothingies and we could make our own decisions rather than be directed by some foreign chappies in Brussels.

Times have changed and there seem few voluntarily-imposed no-go areas these days. One, however, seems to be sliding inexorably into our lives and that is a certain word; the clue of which is in the Blog title.

I still remember the furore when Ken Tynan used a certain F word on television. The papers were filled with indignation and 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells' almost exploded in a cloud of self-righteous apoplexy. Now, the moment the 9pm watershed is reached, it seems fair game to use in dramas, comedies etc - indeed, it has become totally acceptable in all circumstances. I was watching David Attenborough the other night; once upon a time he would have said 'And here we see the South American coypu, a shy, gentle creature, procreating deep in the heart of the Amazon jungle. An example, perhaps, of the beauty of Nature, and an unforgettable sight.'

Now, it's more ' Jeez, look at that great furry bastard, f*cking like a good'un!'

The verb has it's place within context and I certainly have no objection to its use but there has always been restraint when it comes to the C word. During the last week, it seems to have shot into popular parlance on TV and I'm not really sure if I'm comfortable with it. Why? I just don't know. It has always sounded an ugly word and is the only word I never use (apart from Vorderman).

Am I being strange here? I decided to Google the word and eventually reached the page I wanted although, with Safe Search turned off, I was considerably sidetracked. It is defined thus:

C*nt (IPA:/kʌnt/) is an English language vulgarism referring generally to the female genitalia. The earliest citation of this usage, circa 1230, is in the Oxford English Dictionary, referring to the London street known as "Gropec*nt Lane".

"C*nt" is also used informally as a derogatory epithet in referring to either sex, but this usage is relatively recent, dating back only as far as the late nineteenth century. The Compact Oxford English Dictionary defines "c*nt" as "an unpleasant or stupid person", whereas Merriam-Webster defines the term as "a disparaging term for a woman"; the Macquarie Dictionary of Australian English defines it as "a despicable man."

The word appears to have been in common usage during the Middle Ages until the eighteenth century, and after a period of disuse, began to be used more frequently in the twentieth century and in particular in parallel with the rise of popular literature and pervasive media.

So there you go. I'd be tempted to start a *Keep a C*nt Off Our Screens* campaign but that would sadly inhibit all political broadcasts, not to mention the total disintegration of Joe Pasquale's career.

I fully appreciate that the dramatic effect is diluted when the baddie says to the good guy "Keep away from me, you lady's front bottom" but think what a nicer world it would be.

I'm sure all parents of daughters have there own euphemism for such a thing; with us, it was winkie. I've no idea how it evolved but it did. Daisy is also another which is rather nice and was used by Mrs B with her two (children, that is, before you all start phoning the Freak Show!).

Perhaps it's me just having a "thing" about the word. Maybe caused by some long-forgotten trauma like mis-reading The Count of Monte Cristo at the age of 5?

Anyway, enough fannying around. I'm off to write a strong letter to "Points of View"!