A trip to the Movies!

This might look like a slightly confusing photo, so perhaps I should explain quite quickly exactly what's going on. The equipment my friend and soon-to-be colleague Sam is holding up for show is not some weird bugging device found on his person, an ASBO tag or worse, some kind of instrument of electronic torture.

Rather this is the equipment London's cinema's regularly hand out to deaf customers to help them better hear the movies they're paying £8.50 to watch (+ the extortionate popcorn, deafies love their popcorn y'know - maybe because we don't hear the rustling of the corn so well as we pop it in our gobs!).

Sam and I were off to watch a film called 13 (which was excellent by the way, excellent and gory) and decided we'd find out whether we could improve on the level of hearing we'd get from our NHS hearing-aids. {When the manageress saw us taking this snap, she actually started to try and help in any other way possible, even giving us a brochure on how to operate the equipment! Which was nice... I think she thought we might be from Watchdog or something...}

This loop system scanned straight into our hearing-aids - giving us what was supposed to be a superior level of hearing.

A couple of problems though. The box lost frequency if you moved even an iota (which happens pretty easily) which was very annoying indeed. Also, it was slightly tinny. So it was that Sam and I removed the box just as the trailers were ending and the film was about to start, and went back to our normal states, using our plain hearing-aids to get by. Typical.

The film was subtitled, so it didn't make too much of a difference in terms of our understanding of the film. But it was a shame that not even this once did we find equipment that actually helped make our experience better.

Still, it's a great snap, eh? Sam looks very meaningful as he holds the box aloft. Good stuff, Sam, even if it didn't help us at all - you've got a future as a consumer affairs reporter if you ever need it!

For Sale! A Scribbler T-shirt!

The Scribbler is a free blog. No money is asked for, or taken... or even offered for that matter. Sometimes, however, there's an opportunity to do something a bit different. Something a bit interesting.

Something to cover your costs...

Only kidding! Well, not that no money will be asked for, but hey, you don't have to make a bid on ebay for this Scribbler t-shirt. You don't have to do anything. This is an experiment, after all. Sure people like reading the Scribbler. But do they like wearing the Scribbles? The answer, it seems is coming up sometime on Friday, when the auction ends..! All you have to do is...

Click on this ebay link -

http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=8379125080















The price (at the moment of posting this blog) is £2. I need £5 to cover my costs (labour not included) which means that whether or not this t-shirt gets sold, and whether or not the scribbler makes any money from it, there will be drama.

Oh yes there will. Drama, certainly.

And quite probably, a few tears...

(not so) Random Scribble # 23

* Not everyone's a stranger.

Liferules # 1 : The Scribbler on wellness (Oh the relief! I'm better...well almost!)

Oh, hello! (apologies, this photo does rather make this look like a Dr Scribbler advice supplement).

After first becoming extremely lethargic, then getting a terrible cough and cold, this week saw me actually lose my voice for 3 days (anyone who knows me will tell you this is a fate the Scribbler does not adapt to easily) and become addicted to drinking (ooh I say!) Lemon and Ginger tea.

But I'm declaring this now, and I'll forever hold my peace once I'm done. I'm on the mend! I'm nearly better! I feel energy coursing through my veins (or should that be cursing through my veins?!), I feel a smile radiating from my face. I am well! I think! (famous last words!)

Lessons the Scribbler has learned in the last week...

Losing your voice is a bad thing...

Work is hard when you're suffering from a cold.

Sleep is good, oh yeah!

Illness is bad, very bad, (and ANNOYING!)

I take being well for granted. It feels great! Appreciate it.

Some new life rules I guess.

And that's about all I have to say about that.

Lifesnaps # 18: Covent Garden Busker, Saturday morning

London's full of little moments. Like when you're walking down a narrow tunnel towards the Northern Line in Waterloo Station, and you hear a melodic guitar being plucked, the voice of an angel ringing out, first quiet, then as you walk closer, louder and louder. You keep walking. Sometimes they actually smile at you..!

Occasionally you pluck 10p from your pocket (!) and give them a few pence. Or you don't. Then the music gets quieter. But it stays with you, takes you away from the moment, chasing your destination.

One reason I love Covent Garden is that for all that it's one of the busiest tourist-magnets in London, there's a host of street performers who play at all times to give you a few minutes away from your day, so the crowds melt away and somehow all that exists is the music and you. Standing there.

Then there's the mimers who paint themselves white (as you do) or black, or in black and white stripes for that matter... then stand there as still as possible. I've seen a thousand of them, but somehow I can't ever help but stand and watch. Until a little kid comes along and they move all of a sudden, making everyone (not least the little kid) jump! Cheesy stuff, but it breaks up the day. There's something very 'big city' about it. Something very London.

There's something great about it, too.

Random Scribble # 22

The Mystery Blonde... part the 2nd

Lifenaps # 17: London Town

View from the Ghetto Spyhole!

By the way, the Scribbler's back at work... and feeling better all the time!

Thanks for the flowers, the good-luck messages, the texts, cards, and even faxes. Seeing the crowded masses outside the flat was slightly strange, but then, my fan-club is growing all the time! Anyways, it wasn't serious. I'm still Scribblin' around!

But seriously. Thanks. For everything.

The Scribbler... is ill

It started on Monday. I woke feeling more tired than normal, and I couldn't shake it off. My throat felt slightly sore, my nose felt slightly blocked, and then there was the creeping cough which developed on Monday night.

Yesterday morn, I went into work, only to go straight home again. I could barely walk up the stairs in Warren St tube station. I made myself buy supplies; paracetamol, lemsip, clementines, lemon and ginger tea, orange juice, tomato soup, mineral water, and then somehow dragged them back to the flat.














Then I slept. Oh, how I slept. I woke up shivering, and spent the afternoon never quite warm enough, never quite cool enough. I was fidgety, uncomfortable. I looked terrible. Sometimes I wanted a warm drink but I didn't possess the energy to get up, boil the kettle and make one. Hell I didn't even possess the energy to take a swig from the mineral water at my side.

The day crept on. At 4, 4.30, it became surreal, darkness crept in, and between slumbers, I watched Neighbours (for the first time in 2 and a half years), Watchdog, Eastenders, Holby City, just to keep me company. Later, I watched Shameless, and was slightly disapointed by their representation of a deaf character (who was a pick-pocket, signed a whole load of abuse, then got thrown off the top of a parking lot in the end)...














Illness is weird. The one time you feel half ok is when having a hot bath. So I did, but even these cannot go on forever, and before you know it, you're back in bed, fidgeting around. Even tried listening to my iPod, but it made my headache worse.














So it's Wednesday morning, and my energy's starting to come back, even if the hot sweats and headaches remain. There's been a noticable reduction in coughing, so there's some hope on the horizon!

Not sure if everyone needed to know about this, but the Scribbler's an honest chap, so he is. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, this goes to show that even when the chips are down, the Scribbler keeps Scribblin'.

Lifesnaps # 16 - The Royal Opera House (thanks to M!)

Chipping Norton and New Year's high jinks!

This here is the Bliss Mill, in Chipping Norton, pictured on the first day of 2006!

Oh, Chippy. What a place.

This Cotswolds idyll, 20 miles from Oxford is where I spent my formative years, all the way from infants school to Sixth Form College.

It's where I grew up, where my earliest memories are formed, and where my oldest (and not in age!) friends are from. Consequently 'Chippy,' (as we always called it), and the surrounding countryside has never left me, even if I've left it!














So, the last time I was in Chippy was way back in May. I'd been pining to return since October (for some reason, Autumn brought back a few memories!) but I managed to hold on all the way until well, New Year's Eve!














As you can see, it was a rather heavy night!














We congregated, we did, Steve Brown, Laura, Stevie D (all the way from Sweden), Joe, Becky, Ryan and Hayley, in the Chequers, the pub where I did my early socialising (and had my first ales). This old pub by Chipping Norton Theatre is my 'local.' Well, not anymore, but it once was, and always will be, somewhere deep inside...














They put on a special New Year's Eve night where you pay £30 and get to spend the night getting free booze and a little food too, surrounded by country types. Best thing about it is if you're from the town, you get to see a few old faces. Which I did!














Not that the night wasn't without controversy. Steve Brown, my oldest friend no less, added yet more Best Man's Speech fodder to my backlog of tales by throwing a karaoke inspired strop (pictured!)!

We planned to sing Don McLean's American Pie, but alas, our request fell too close to midnight to be positively recieved. Steve attempted to blackmail the DJ by standing close to the karaoke machine... but his attempts failed, he sat down... and promptly sulked! Before we went off to drink another Jack Daniel's and Coke. He perked up after that...















The other place I'd recommend if you're ever in Chippy is Whistler's restaurant, which is on Middle Row. Here I once washed up mountains of dishes to fund a summer expedition to China... which wasn't all that much fun to be honest.

But the people there are good, so they are, and are second only to the amazing quality of the food... which certainly made the washing-up nights go faster!

High jinks continued apace, Joseph Newman (above) getting 2006 off to a suitably comedic start by wrapping a festive hat around his gob. Nice stuff Joe! (he'll hate me for publishing this... but I will!)

So that was New Year. Wasn't bad at all!

The mystery blonde...

?

Random Scribble # 21 : The Scribbled Banana

Lifesnaps # 15 - The Air Hockey obsession!

You can't quite see it here, but in the conservatory of Bridget's house, there's an air hockey table, which fits the room just perfectly...

At Christmas we were all obsessed, big time. We had a massive tournament, which the Scribbler happened to win (naturally). Here, you can see Simon, my uncle, on the left, tackling Ady, on the right. Great stuff. Who won that match? Can't remember.

The fun was in the playing I say.

Although I should remind everyone that I won the tournament...

The one-and-a-half year review!

Here’s an unusual recipe for a great night with friends. You take five people (preferably people you know!), a Polish café, and grab a tape recorder. Invest in a few rounds of beers. What happens? Great fun, illuminating chatter. How does it work? You announce a Year Review, that’s how!

Make that a year and a half. It had been that long since Zhao, Tom, George and Phil last reviewed their lives while living in Chiswick, West London. Then, I was not a London resident. I knew nothing of this. Now I was accepted, part of the clan. Ready to review.

So, the last week before Christmas, the festivities began. Each of us, in turn, reviewed our year and a half straight into Zhao’s Dictaphone, before receiving questions, nay 'abuse'(!) in return!

The recordings are now hidden in a safe box near Euston station (our flat, basically), but I can offer a brief account of what was said by each person below… with the typical Scribbler's comedic licence, of course...

Phil















"I'm a firm believer that every year is better than the last and this year is no exception"

Tom














"I'm taking valliant steps after 25 years to finally become a man and start making arrangements to pay all my energy bills."

George














(George's photo was taken after his account and thus looks like he's endorsing dictaphones as a product) "This year might not look like it has induced many changes to my life, but it has. However, these changes are hidden. Internal."

Charlie (The Scribbler)

"In terms of work, life, location and of course blogging, my life has changed incredibly over the past year... in fact, I'm getting rather emotional just thinking about it..."

Zhao

"I justified leaving my old company by saying it was because I wanted to travel to work by bike."

Lifesnaps # 14 - In from the cold - Dad goes all Russian!

*

The Scribbler Year Blogged! Goodbye 05!

Friends, family, hangers-on (!) welcome to a fond farewell to the blogging year that was... 2005!

I say year in the loosest possible sense. It was not a year. In fact, The Scribbler's hardly been going 6 months. But in another (loose!) sense, the blog packed in a year's (at least!) worth of tales, foibles and yarns, all for the (dubious) pleasure of my readers!

A look at the viewing data for the site has revealed fans in far away places such as Australia, Italy, Canada and even Slough, England. Glam - hip, hip! Don't know what that means, either..!

Without further ado then, here's a selection of defining snaps with totally bizarre commentary - the snaps are collected together quite randomly, in the finest Scribbler tradition.

Oh, and if you'd like to sign up for the free (isn't everything?) Scribbler Friday email, then you can. Just drop me a (blank or otherwise) email to charlieswinbourne@hotmail.com, and your life will be enhanced in a thousand different electronic ways... every Friday. Too good to refuse? Yes, I think so!

So there it is. New blogs for a new year coming straight up. But first... a look back!

Thanks and enjoy!













This is the room in which I live, talk and write. And sleep. And whatever. It's a fun life, and it's not all black and white you know. A bit of colour creeps in, occasionally..!














I like to sit on park benches, I do. While pretending to be a world class goalkeeper. With or without a ball. Because that's the joy of life, that is. Living it. And making world class saves... in thin air.













If ever there's a time for gangsta rap, it's surely at 1am in the morning, in a bathroom with an airvent connecting a whole host of flats. George and Zhao were only too happy to oblige, and for that, they will always be heroes on the Regents Park Estate. With anyone who doesn't go to bed before 1am, that is.














My favourite Scribble. Yay! Not much more to say... it stands on my bedroom door, it does. And only a lucky few have seen it in real life. Where it is even more spectacular than on the computer screen...













The ladies favourite, Stevie D, jumping into jellyfish infested waters in Gothenburg last July. What a man. Looks like he's hanging there, but he's not. Which makes this probably my favourite snap of the year... and the favourite for eligible women across the globe, too...














The real life Phoenix Nights. Take a pub in Birmingham, a talented friend, a few daggers from the regulars, a frankly awful band and a number of encores, and a demented cameo from a Ricky Gervais look-alike, and you'll have an idea of how bad this night really was. Steve Brown's still in recovery, and to be honest, so am I.














The 1000th hit! A T-Shirt deservedly won by James Parratt of Leeds (and soon NYC) for clicking fastest! Watch out for the 2000th hit T-Shirt, which will surely be pink, glittered and quite possibly made from pure spandex... might not be giving that one away, frankly.














Eddie's recovery. A frantic dash back to Nottingham, a brother in surgery, parents struggling to remain awake after pulling an all nighter... that's what they mean when they say life's more dramatic than any drama could be. Except there was no drama in the end, as Eddie made a full and exuberant recovery. Which is a relief. Drama ain't always good, y'know..!














This is London. Or at least, the London that exists a few feet below the pavements. Lots of people, crowded carriages, and no chatter, at all. Still, it's remarkably loud, slightly claustrophobic, and often late. But I love the tube anyway. Why? Dunno really.














A lot of the time, The Scribbler's just plain scruffy. But other times, the Scribbler scrubs up and makes an effort. And Ady's graduation was one of those times...














Shiny painted fingernails. Always good, particularly for hand-model work in ironic photos. Not my fingernails I should add, although I appreciated them all the same.















Finally, last but not least, the infamous VEE-Tv bed bundle after VEE-drinks before Christmas. Ady had only met the crowd that night, but methinks they took a liking to him... and my bed's been springy ever since. Still, they had their fun!

So not a bad year at all. Over the next few weeks, the Scribbler will be presenting accounts of New Year's Eve, Christmas joviality and a whole load of other stuff no-one would ever be prepared to pay for the joy of reading. Which is lucky, because The Scribbler is written for love, and love alone. And love, while being one of our most valuable commodities, also happens to be free. As is The Scribbler. Enjoy! Happy 2006, people!