Notes from a small island of tranquillity...

... which is what my desk is today seeing as our mail server is, as we techies say, fucked.

So, the UEFA Cup draw was made for the first round earlier today. Boro got Baník Ostrava at home. I'm not thrilled about this. We could have had LB Châteauroux (France), AZ Alkmaar (Netherlands), IF Elfsborg (Sweden) or FH Hafnarfjördur (Iceland). Personally I fancied the last. A trip to Iceland would have been very interesting. Still, the Czech Republic is cool, even if Ostrava is a long way east of Prague, and I always swore if we ever got into Europe I'd go anywhere we played, except Turkey. Baník lost 7-1 on aggregate to Bayer Leverkusen in the Champions League 3rd qualifying round and I would expect us to compete well against Leverkusen so there is plenty of cause for optimism, especially after Tuesday's highly efficient and professional dismissal of Fulham's feeble challenge.

I must say that Firefox just pulled a very interesting stunt indeed. I was trying to view an interactive map of Mannheim with a view to finding a place to stay near the Maimarkthalle in a couple of weeks when the Java applet clearly died. So I killed the tab the site was in and then found that when I went to another tab when I typed the URL in it went in backwards, i.e. ku.oc.563llabtoof.www. Which is, to say the least, odd. Other windows weren't affected so I assume this was Firefox. Dunno if it would have worked, though. That looked like a good moment to give the machine a three-fingered salute and start over. Still, curious indeed.

Poolful of Moosehead

Bekannter als Jesus says:
http://nb.cbc.ca/regional/servlet/View?filename=nb_beer20040818
2nd Dan says:
wasn't me
Bekannter als Jesus says:
obviously. if it had been you, they'd have found the empty cans.

On this day some years ago

Today would have been our ninth anniversary of getting together, had my ex and I still been together. However, before you start thinking I still feel about it like I used to, I'd like to point that it only occurred to me this evening when I was writing a long-overdue cheque to my mother for a match ticket. I looked at the date I'd just inscribed and thought "08/08... 08/08... why does that ring a bell?" before realising why.

Another thing today would have been is the 57th birthday of a friend of mine and former workmate of my dad's who died of liver failure in 1990 at the age of 42. It was Alan who introduced me to Al Stewart the thick end of twenty years ago. More to the point, he made a Bob Dylan fan out of me in about 1979, for which I remain grateful. He was a huge fan and had a truly astounding collection of Bob Dylan records which extended way beyond the official releases. Alan had a shelf full of Dylan bootleg albums that would make most collectors weep. From the time he became a fan he saw Dylan every time he came to this country, starting at Newcastle City Hall on the infamous 1966 tour, six months before I was born. He always swore blind that he didn't boo him during the electric set and remained disgusted at those who did. He was never obsessive; he always kept things in proportion. He knew the difference between Bob Dylan with something to say and Bob Dylan talking complete bollocks. He wasn't one of those sad, pathetic bastards who spend half their lives analysing deliberately obscure and meaningless lyrics on the '60s albums looking for profundity where none exists. He just bought everything he could lay his hands on because he loved the music, for what it said to him when it had something to say and for entertainment when it didn't.

R.I.P. Alan. I still miss you, mate.