dom.blog

One of the nice things about working for an international company is a valuable expansion to the worldwide network of sofas to crash on. Last weekend Chris from the Berlin office took advantage of ours, and we ended up on a cultural journey I like to call ‘From Manet to M&M World’ which also included a strange night out in Angel to see The Urban Voodoo Machine, a bloke with an awful mockney accent and a ‘reverse strip’. (Imagine what you think that means, and you’ve probably got it.)

I also had the dubious pleasure of introducing a German to First Capital Connect during the morning rush hour, which is a bit like flying unprepared celebrities out to the middle of famines for Comic Relief. By the time we had crammed ourselves into the fake compartments at the back, with the door that doesn’t open and the emergency ladder made of wood, his eyes were filled with pity, and I’m half-hoping for a €5 a month donation so that the villagers of Highbury might one day dig our own railway line.

In other news, the Book Club I nerdishly co-founded at work had its first successful gathering, reminding me why being in a book club is (a) awesome; and (b) clearly better than belonging to the rival FIFA gaming association.

On Friday Joshua turned 24, so we threw a retirement party where I got the song ‘I Am Europe’ firmly stuck in my head. Not even the music of Carmen could dislodge it yesterday, magnificent as it was, though the fact I can now compare operas I’ve seen at the Royal Albert Hall recently with a straight face should be some sort of cause for alarm. And then last night I went back to News Revue with a twist, for the latest run was directed by Kat, and very funny it was too.

Last weekend my cousin Julie visited, for the first time in a couple of years, so we made the most of it with Cat and Josh in various drunken, dancey escapes, plus a trip to the Museum of Childhood with Katie. Probably the coolest thing in there is a giant-sized toy theatre, which you look at and think “oh wow, I wish I had been the child of whichever nineteenth century Count owned this” along with “but then, it was probably the ultimate case of playing with something once and then leaving it to clutter the front room” and “oooh – are those the little Fisher Price people we had in a toy aeroplane?”. (They were. I never realised how much those guys got around.)

This weekend it’s been more about grown-up toys, and my swanky new laptop \ tablet convertible thingy. It’s rather beautiful and exciting, especially considering that I don’t upgrade very often, and my last laptop (much as I love it so) was definitely due its retirement. I enjoy how obvious touch screens are, now that we have them, so that even when doing ‘serious stuff’ (like, y’know, writing blogs and stuff) in desktop mode with a keyboard and mouse, it still feels natural to swipe at the screen at the same time. Like we’ve been doing it forever. At the same time, I do realise how increasingly odd and out of touch I am with everyone else, simply as a result of accumulated habits. It took about a day to get used to the initially disorientating Windows 8 – but I’ve used every consumer edition of Windows since 3.11 (even Windows Me) and, unlike lots of people, I’m happy here. It feels like home. But it’s unlikely that any younger generation – growing up on smartphones first and beige desktops never – will ever feel the same.

And while we’re in the mood for vague nostalgia, one thing that makes me nervous about any new indulgent consumer purchase is that extra twinge of fear and loathing for the outside world which comes with it. Can you see it too obviously through the window? Will someone break it and steal it? How useful will the ability to track it remotely actually be, and isn’t it a little bit weird that ‘letting law enforcement authorities know’ is now considered a box-ticking afterthought while our insurance \ geo-tracking \ phone network companies can sort things out for us?

And for every advance in consumer electronics – every high-speed data network, always-on social communication and beautiful interfaces – are we creating a gap between our experiences of these things and more public spirited endeavours (schools, hospitals and the like) which will be hard to fulfil?

Probably not. After all, the heart of great healthcare, and great teaching, is always going to be the personal dedication and skill of the individuals delivering it. But there is real value to be gained if our public institutions can keep pace with change as strongly as our entertainment or communication industries drive them. It’s not just about convenience – being able to book blood donations, find a doctor, renew an Oyster card or deliver homework online – great as all this stuff is. It’s also about making sure that our public services don’t get treated as historical artefacts, but remain relevant to people and their lives today.

(Things I forgot to mention after getting carried away with all of that: Lincoln! I saw Lincoln with Josh this week, and rather enjoyed it, being a complete sucker for dramatic scenes in Congress. Honestly, they’re even more fun than courtroom drama. Unfortunately the era of American history I studied began with Reconstruction, so I am unable to comment on whether the quasi-deification of Lincoln is quite fair. Also, last night I played Munchkin in a pub on the occasion of Kat’s birthday. Happy birthday Kat.)

2013 kicked off in fine style at the Mile End sister-flat, on one of those nice occasions when bringing different friendship groups together actually works (even if one of the photos does look like the cover of a low-rent sitcom).

One particular highlight: a barbershop rendering of Puff the Magic Dragon, video evidence of which abounds on Facebook. (I’m not going to show you that, though, instead I’m going to show you an actually rather nice photo of me, Simon and Josh. Less nice photos = also on Facebook.)

So far in January I have also: seen Arabian Nights at the Tricycle, celebrated the launch of Ben’s Coja Records label in Dalston, been charmed by a board game called Dominion (average 7.92 out of 10 at BoardGameGeek – and they’re a discerning crowd), fought a tooth-and-nail snowball fight across London Bridge and, yes, signed a real life tenancy agreement*.

(*Q: But Dominic? I swear you moved out ages ago? What gives?”
A: Sometimes bureaucracy is slow. Especially if you do everything backwards and complete the ‘moving in’ bit before the ‘telling the landlord’ part.)

You might have thought that discussing crowd-sourced board game ratings was the limit for this blog, but no – there’s more. Last weekend was, in fact, particularly glorious for the stereotyping of me: on Saturday I went with Oliver and Abi to Cambridge for tea and cakes with Professor Mandler, plus Chinese and a spot of book shopping. (What’s the ideal accompaniment to the early works of Rousseau? Why, the later works of Rousseau!) And then yesterday Simon, Ellie, Mark and I explored the Wellcome Collection’s exhibition on Death (a cheery subject not improved by the Victorian anti-masturbation devices in the other room), waited around on cold and snowy platforms for a steam train (totally worth it) and saw the 1928 silent film Underground (link to Diamond Geezer, because he did it first).

In case you were wondering, yes, it’s set on the Tube.