In a slightly bored fit I thought I'd see what single was number one on the day I was born. As it turns out it's something by David Soul. Silver Lady, to be precise. Which only goes to show that the single buying public of 1977 let me down quite badly (though loking through the list, nobody born in 77 got a fair crack of the whip, them's some dismal charts). My son fares marginally better, but only just, he gets to put up with the sugababes b-team's "About you now". The wife wins with Abba's "The name of the game", though that is kind of like winning by saying hah, you've got scrofula, I've only got diptheria, so, y'know, swings and roundabouts.
Look, I never claimed to be cool. As a a cliched middle aged male, I have a number of interests which, if not exactly niche, are perhaps not freighted with glamour. Not exactly ones to set the heart racing. I yearn not for wakeboarding, my cocaine with minor celebrities days are well and truly behind me, you are unlikely to catch me writing graffiti under a motorway bridge. I do cycle, but only as a way of getting from point A to point B, you are unlikely, you will be relieved to hear, to see me purchasing lycra and or/doing triathlons. I like going for a nice walk. I'm fond of a good book. I have a deep attachment to county cricket. Yes, that's right, county, not even the international stuff which briefly captures the nation's fleeting attention once in a blue moon. County cricket. Somerset CCC to be precise, though I'll watch / listen to any of it. The unpopular part of an unpopular sport. Well, that's the public perception, the much maligned two men and a dog. N...
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