And . . . relax

Friday comes

and Friday goes

If you swim with sharks

best count your toes

"What an odd start", I can hear you saying, "there is a chap who needs the weekend if ever I have read one", you continue.  There is, of course, a reason for starting like that*.

I am reminded of that Roy Lichtenstein take off of the guy painting a picture, with his mum looking over his shoulder.  "What are you painting dear?", she says.  "It's kind of abstract mum", he replies.  "That's nice dear", she concludes.  In fact, I am further reminded that my sort of third band, maybe second depending on your counting method, which was called That's Nice Dear.  We were nearly the next big thing, but it turns out there was not much call for acoustic abstractism in the music business in those days.  Oh, and I also went off to Australia for six months, thus making band practices a bit tricky.

This weekend we have a "meal for eight" on Saturday night, but otherwise the family intends to get reacquainted with each other in a warm and relaxing environment.

Have a good weekend, and maybe do something a bit abstract this weekend, as long as it does not frighten the horses or cause offence to Lithuanians.  Talking of Lithuania, and mixing in a bit of football, I see my club, having just been through several years of turbulence, and starting to bottom out and look to the future, is in trouble again, with one of its owners having a warrant issued for his arrest by his home country of Lithuania.  Pay Up Pompey, Pompey Pay Up may well become the chant from the terraces.


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* standard comic fare to introduce an idea to which you return later in the piece.  Being as I am in my abstract phase, I plan to introduce it, then leave it dangling with