Welcome to my world! I write about motorcycles, the abuse of State Power, Croydon and other stuff that interests me. I'm eclectic!
'Thunder approaching'
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My grandad, a keen photographer, took this photo while on holiday in Loctudy, a fishing port and seaside resort in Brittany. He captioned it, 'Thunder approaching'. The year was 1938. How appropriate.
Everyone knows so-called 'probiotic drinks are sugar and water masquerading as health food. And that great customer relations is about listening to what people are saying. So how do you explain this - below - from the distributors of Yakult in response to my mate 'Nutters's’ complaint?? First, I'd better explain that the milkman left 24 free samples of this expensive confection at 'Nutters's' place of work. 'Nutters' didn't ask for them ... didn't welcome them and told Mr Yakult as much. You will notice that Yakult's careful, official, line is not to claim health benefits, just the weasel words about ‘positive outcomes’. I shall be following this up at some reputable sources, including Quack Watch and Bad Science. Watch this space. Here's the official response: Subject: RE: Yakult freebies Dear , Thank you for your email; I am very sorry that you were disappointed with your recent free delivery of Yakult. Just to give you so...
Every so often you read of someone whose life has been so unimaginable, so extraordinary – so inspiring – it takes your breath away. This was my experience, today, reading of the life of Hans Massaquoi – a black teenager in Germany during the war who failed in an adolescent bid to join the Hitler Youth, survived the carpet bombing of Hamburg, played saxophone for American servicemen, emigrated to the USA, served in the Korean war and edited two ground-breaking black American magazines. Massaquoi died on 19 January - his 87th birthday, He also published his autobiography - see cover photo above. Read on, please: telegraph.co.uk independent.co.uk wikipedia
Mick, a proper gent – I’ll miss him Mick Woollett (easy to remember the name, double everything except ‘e’ and ‘w’) died on Monday. He was my editor at Motor Cycle Weekly in the ‘seventies and early ‘eighties. He was mature in every sense of the word, made editor in his early fifties and a proper gentleman, having to work with an office-full of (mostly) youngsters. He never lost his cool, was unfailingly courteous, never swore and was always perfectly mannered. Extraordinary. I plan to get a lot more off my chest about Mick, but for the moment I’ll leave you with this, true, story from, about 1982. MCW had one mouthy sub, a Kiwi called Brendan who was always shouting off about everything. He knew everything, was witty, but packed full of bluster and b**s**. In the run-up to the Daytona Speed Week one year he’d been shouting the odds about how HE ought to join the team because of all his experience, skills and how he’d do a better j...
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