This week I resolved to take enough cash for the DART home if necessary. (Probably a bad thing to do mentally, as inferred by Thomas in his comment about last week.) Anyway it turned out I'd mistaken 1 euro coins for 2 euros, so once again I wouldn't have had enough. Feck, I've not yet got to grips with decimalisation in 1969, now this euro business is the last straw. I'm going to become one of those old fellas that just tips his loose change onto the bar for the bartender to sort out.
Phedippidations 169 dealt with massage therapy to deal with the cause and effect of injury, often away from the source of the pain. As is wise in the case of such material delivered to a wide, mainly US, audience Steve read out a lengthy legal disclaimer. But for an American he has a keen sense of the ridiculous and I was laughing out loud as the disclaimer increased in speed and pitch - very clever.
And then I rediscovered Pierce Turner, a singer/songwriter from Wexford. Very much an undiscovered talent despite many years in the business this guy turns out some wonderful music (some turkeys amongst them as well, especially on The Boy To Be With album). He gets away with lyrics that most would struggle to make music with. For example, in The Sky And The Ground he talks about a family of junkies
...slobbering over a cup of tea, refuge for as long as allowed
with the breakfast special crowd
and these are the respectable ones, they don't steal or rob
holding it together in some mysterious way
juggling the juice and the children's allowance...
Click the title to link to his website - neglected, as are his general attempts to court any decent publicity. But buy his Best Of/Compilation. You won't be disappointed.