Supergrass and a pet plant

I worked in an office once which had a drinks machine where, to get your beverage just the way you liked it, you pressed a sequence of audible buttons. So there was a choice of buttons playing different notes for coffee, tea and so on, and another set of them for number of sugars, another for degrees of strength, milkiness, etc. - you get the idea.  These are probably very familiar to everyone but it's such a long while since I've been near anything that can make me a drink and which doesn't also look like my husband so please forgive my explanation. Anyway, I loved ordering my sugar-free cappuccino with chocolate on top because pressing the buttons in the required order on this particular machine provided me with the additional pleasure of hearing the opening bar of Supergrass's 'Going Out'.  Or so it seemed to me.  Dah-dee-dah-dee-dah-dah... yep, definitely a sort of Casio version of  'Going Out'.   I think it was in the charts at the time.  I pointed this out once to the colleague waiting behind me for his cup of tomato soup (moderately lip-scalding, powdery lumps) but he didn't seem to know what I meant; I don't think Supergrass were his thing.

Anyway I was thinking about this today... the song and the band... because I had another Supergrass track going through my head and you know how these trains of thought go. The song I had on repeat today was actually 'Moving'. Moving, just keep moving... the words kept going round and round... actually it never got beyond that line.  And I had these lyrics in my head because I was admiring a house plant... I know, it sounds just as ridiculous as the drinks machine thing. Supergrass obviously move in mysterious ways. But it was another one of those trains of thought, because the plant does move, and she does just keep moving!

This has given her a strange kind of animal-like quality and I've begun to think of her as a pet.  Here she is in the morning:

 And here she is at intervals throughout the day:

 If you look closely at the leaves, like you're doing a spot the difference puzzle, you'll see how their angles have changed in each pic, until at night they're pointing as upwardly as they can. This is all new to me because I have a shit track record for looking after houseplants successfully (even supposedly indestructible yuccas have died in my non-green-fingered hands) and so this is the first indoor one I've dared to bring home in a very long while.  However, I'm pleased to report that she is currently thriving. Maybe she likes the music we play... ?

In the event that you're remotely interested, here's a time-lapse video of another Calathea plant, moving in the same way.  I bet they have a really hi-tech drinks machine in this office too.

Caught by the fuzz

Had any interesting experiences with the police lately?

It's been a while since I have – the last time I spoke to them was when we woke up one Sunday morning a couple of years ago to find the back gate and shed door mysteriously open. Nothing had been nicked; the shed was in such a state at the time that the cobwebs made it impenetrable, and even the most intrepid of burglars would have found their courage and perseverance rewarded with no more than a rusty spade and a half-empty tin of Sadolin. But we told the police anyway just in case there was a spate of it in the area. They sent round a couple of bobbies - I have to call them 'bobbies' in this instance because they were old-fashioned and smiley with local accents, the type who ride bicycles slowly and wave at old people – these were not cops or pigs or old bill. They kindly suggested we could hang a little bell on the gate to deter any potential intruders. It kind of sums up where we live now.

That's not to say I haven't been on the receiving end of crime before; in another life and town my flat, my car and my handbag have all been broken into and I actually couldn't fault the responses of the police in each instance. But was that because I'd been the 'victim'?

I mean, it felt very different when I was in the transit van that was stopped by some cops on one occasion (of several) coming back from a gig in the early '80s. I was with Mr SDS' band, along with the other girlfriends and the mate who did the driving, when we were pulled over by a police car as we drove through a spookily quiet London in the early hours. We were young, scruffy, punky types. They were young, bolshy, smart-arse types. It was clear that they were desperate to catch us out on something and drugs would be the most likely haul, so we were interrogated, patronised, physically searched and separated and it felt shit, and actually quite scary.  When they eventually couldn't find anything they didn't apologise - they did give us a sticker for the van, though. It said, 'Mets Are Magic'. Pah.  There was only one place we wanted to stick it....

It seems so long ago now.... and so does this. What actually started me on this train of thought about the police was watching Britpop At The BBC on Friday night and seeing this clip. I just can't get enough of it. Isn't it the most compelling performance of an absolutely perfect song?

And then I thought about how many great songs there are about the police. Like this one from an old Pink Fairy....

...and this one which I saw performed live so many times in my youth

And then there's the Equals, Junior Murvin/Clash, Crisis etc etc.... there's always something to say about the police.  Where would we be without them, eh?