Funfare for the Common Man

9pm every night, after the little one is tucked in for the night With apologies to Gabriel García Márquez After last week’s heavy theme of the [potential] doom and gloom of the future, this week will be a different kind of heavy: heavy on links, light[er] on commentary.  If there’s one thing this quarantine is doing to people – me, especially, but if Twitter is anything to go by, many of us – it’s sending us down all sorts of nostalgia rabbit holes. You know, I’m not really sure if we can go down nostalgia rabbit holes, but you get the idea. I’ve been down this…road before, just a fortnight or so ago with my ‘Mixtape’ post. That, along with some comments from old friends, has really kicked the music nostalgia urge into overdrive, and I’m trying to put together a music-themed post. But I’m struggling to find the right angle. So in the interim, let’s focus on links and love.  As in, this is about the point in the quarantine, if you haven’t reached it already, where tempers are r...

“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.” (E. B. White) I’m hardly stooping so low as to refer to myself as a ‘writer’. But this is the situation I always seem to find myself in, and life during this quarantine is only exacerbating this. The time, the mood, everything always has to be just right. If I don’t have a chunk of quiet, private, guaranteed uninterrupted time, then I’m hopeless. Just the mere hint of interruption is enough to send my heart into palpations. BUT…this quarantine has been a blessing in disguise, at least as far as writing goes. I’ve not only written more, whenever I can squeeze it in, but I’m being a bit more social in terms of keeping in touch. But ‘paper’? Good lord, how old-fashioned can one get? Am I cut out for this world and its impatience? I’ve already written one excessively long diatribe about the news and newspapers and what a dying art sitting down to read in long stre...

I put on deodorant yesterday. For the first time in 34 days. Now, that I’ve got your attention, let’s get cracking. By this point, we’re all starting to crack – or crack up – if we haven’t already. No matter what your state or condition during the lockdown, it’s bound to be affecting you in one way or another. Have you reached your breaking point yet? In this post, a couple of brief stories about anger management and fatherhood; a couple of pretty shitty links to share, along with some ‘acquired taste’ comedy; and a ‘panic at the supermarket’ article that is much more uplifting and enlightening than you think. (if you’re looking for some of the best kind of panic, you could do worse than listen to this: the best type of panic )   All this, plus I rekindle my inner music journalist by sharing a ‘get through the pandemic’ chill-out playlist and wax nostalgic about the good old days of mix tapes and my teenage years. Not to sound too flippant about this, bec...