Tag Archives: blazing saddles

Wednesday 6th June 2018 – I’VE BEEN REUNITED …

… with my missing wallet. And it didn’t take too much effort.

The route planner that I use proposed a route from the station to the Police Station that took 38 minutes, and from the Police Station to the “Convention” metro station a route that took 22 minutes. However, while I followed the suggested route from the Police Station to the Metro, the route that I took from the station was slightly different (as in “more straightforward and easier to follow”).

And I was on the platform of the Metro station, having been to collect my wallet, long before even the 38 minutes. And most of that time was spent going through the Security check at the entrance to the Police Station.

But I needn’t have wasted my time because there was nothing left of any value in the wallet – not that that surprised me. And it was a pleasant walk through a part of Paris that I didn’t know at all.

I’d had a decent sleep for a change, although it was once more difficult to haul myself out of bed. I had a shower, a quick whizz around the apartment, took out the rubbish, made my butties and made sure that I had everything that I needed.

It was a brisk walk of 25 minutes to the station in the cold, clammy weather, so I was there half an hour before the train was due to depart.

sncf railway station granville manche normandy franceWe only had to wait around for about 15 minutes or so before the train pulled in to the station so there was plenty of time to find our seats..

Nominally I was reading DW Prowse’s excellent History of Newfoundland but I spent most of the train journey in a doze.

On one occasion though I had to rouse myself to go for the stroll down the corridor, and the man whom I met leaving the Gentlemen’s Rest Room could have bowled me over, rather like Gabby Johnson in Blazing Saddles during the fight near the end of the film.

When we arrived at Paris it was still muggy and clammy but it warmed up pretty quickly while I was tramping around the streets.

The Metro was quite straightforward -Line 12 from “Convention” back to “Montparnasse-Vaugirard” and then a brief walk around the corner, not the usual marathon trek, to Line 4. With the works going on at Gare du Nord, I had to alight at Gare de l’Est and take Line 5. And I’ve never seen a Metro as crowded as this one.

TGV paris gare du nord franceBut I was in plenty of time to eat my butties before boarding the TGV. It was trainset 4343 and we’ve travelled on that one before.

However this time I didn’t have much luck on it.

Having been exhausted by the walk I wanted to sleep on the train but every time I dozed off, my neighbour wanted to go to the Gentlemen’s Rest Room.

And that was dismaying. I was well out of it by the time we arrived at Brussels.

As luck would have it, we arrived a little earlier, so the earlier train to Leuven was still in the station. So I leapt aboard and we were off.

It was a struggle to make it to here, and once I’d installed myself in my little room I was out like a light for a good 90 minutes.

But it took longer than usual to install myself as, on leaving the office with my keys, I was assailed by the hotel cat again who insisted on being picked up and given a stroke.

Unpacking my stuff, I find that I’ve forgotten my coffee and my ice tray, so down at the shops i had to buy coffee and a pack of these ice cube bag things. And it makes much more sense to travel with a couple of these than a tray.

Tea was baked potatoes (I remembered those) and a tin of Fajita beans followed by a caramel soya dessert and banana.

Now, I’m totally whacked. 151% of my daily effort so even though it’s only just 21:30 I’m off to bed. It’s hospital tomorrow.

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Monday 16th March 2015 – I’VE FINISHED …

… painting the walls of the bedroom today. At least, I’ve done all that I intend to do.

painted wallpaper bedroom les guis virlet puy de dome franceThe plasterboard joints wre still showing through the second coat that I did on Saturday morning, and so that called for a third coat. I had to put some more white paint into the mix to make sure that I had enough paint, and now the colour is too light. Not only that, it’s rather patchy too and, even worse, you can still see the plasterboard joints.

Ahhh well, never mind.

I had a phone call from Cecile and that ended up with me being sidetracked for half an hour or so. Nevertheless, I had finished the painting by 17:00 and that gave me time to start the emptying of Caliburn.

That took about an hour and a half and there’s still a plie of stuff left in there for which I can’t find room at the moment. But it’s a long time since Caliburn has been this empty.

And I was right about some tins of kidney beans. I distincly remember buying some but you will remember that I couldn’t find them. Anyway, once I’d emptied Caliburn I found an IKEA bag with the missing articles – together with some Soya desserts, dated 22 December 2014. They went in the bin.

I had another chat with Cecile afterwards and then sat down to watch a film. Tonight’s film was the whimsical John Wayne comedy McLintock!.

A delightful film, even if the picture quality is very poor – due to the fact that it’s out of copyright and so the original studio copies have long been lost. All that remain are second- and third-hand copies, and we are lucky to have those.

It’s another one of these John Wayne films where everyone is intent on having a good time, on screen as well as off-screen, and the fight scene is one of the inspirations for the fight in Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles.

It’s full of all kinds of memorable quotes, but you’ll need to buy the film to listen to them for yourself. Make sure you buy the full (122 minute) version and not the cut-down 90-minute TV edition, which cuts out half the plot, and don’t complain about the wretched quality because it’s all that is available.

For tea, I made another mega-curry of green pepper and lentils. There’s enough for three more days too which is good. It means that I don’t have to exert myself so much for the rest of the week.

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Friday 1st January 2010 – I’m blogging early this evening.

Yes, I won’t be up much longer as I’m going to have an early night – I’m shattered. Last night’s major revelling kept me awake until all of 00:45 before I crashed out, and I had a leisurely morning in bed until about 10:00. So I’ve no idea why it is that it’s just after 22:00 and I’m ready for bed.

It’s not as if I’ve done very much either. I’ve managed a stroll across to the barn to check on things over there but that involved dodging a deluge of snowy rain that’s been falling all day. Apart from that I’ve been up here doing not very much at all.

Christmas is of course not complete without watching “The Great Escape” on television. And for me, New Year always involves watching old westerns on DVD. You may recall that I bought a copy of John Wayne’s Fort Apache the other day but it wasn’t that I was watching. In Brussels at the Media Market in April I bought a boxed set of vintage westerns from the 1940s and 50s – 9 old hand-coloured “forgotten classics” and so I’ve been watching Vengeance Valley, Abilene Town and The Bells of San Angelo this afternoon.

The Bells of San Angelo is a “Roy Rogers and Trigger” western featuring a whole pile of singing cowboys. It’s as cheesy as anything you can imagine and I’m not sure whether, looking at it from today’s perspective, you could distinguish it from anything that Mel Brooks might put out. I’m not sure who might have ever considered it as being anything like a “serious” western but we are talking of the days before the idea of a parody had ever been set into anyone’s minds and when people were still scratching their heads trying to figure out what Hellzapoppin’ was all about.

On the other hand, Vengeance Valley is a much more interesting film. The plot revolves around an unmarried mother giving birth to a child out of wedlock and how much of a risque topic was this for that period? Especially as the film treats her with sympathy and reviles the doctor who refuses to treat her until he “has a request from the father”. But it’s quite interesting from my point of view as the film opens with a narrative about the loneliness of being high up in the mountains with nothing but the eerie wind whistling through the pines. Now have a read of this page that I wrote in 2002.

The prize for the most significant film however nust be given to Abilene Town. It’s an early Randolph Scott film and features a conflict between homesteaders and the cattle-barons. it introduces the concept of the “good” and “bad” sides of the main street – an idea that was developed in Kirk Douglas’ Gunfight At The Ok Corral. What is even more interesting is that there is a scene inside a music hall with a dancer and chorus line and as soon as you see it you will immediately say Blazing Saddles. Not only that, the film ends with a confrontation between the pacific citizens and rowdy cattle hands, just as in the aforementioned. And when towards the end of Blazing Saddles Cleavon Little invokes the name of Randolph Scott, it all becomes clear and you know precisely on which film Brooks based much of Blazing Saddles.

Not only that, in another one of those moments that can only be described as coincidence, I mentioned the music hall scene, that was absolutely horrendous, and a perusal of the full cast list reveals that the choreography (if that is what it was) was by Sammy Lee. No wonder he only lasted a handful of games as manager of Bolton Wanderers if that was the best that he could do.

And there are three items of news that have caught my eye today. Firstly, relating to the mysterious affair of the underwear bomber, we have an announcement from the UK Government. Now who reading this blog is surprised? Of course you will be saying that the British Government had no connection at all with the supposed detonation or not of this weapon (although if course anything is possible in this modern age) but you can see that they cannot pass up an opportunity to remove some more civil liberties from their citizens. What do you do if you need a gipsy’s towards the end of your flight? Of course the Brits will take it lying down as always – no-one in the UK has any backbone any more. It reminds me of the OUSA Executive Committee meeting when they learnt that I had been elected to a position within their august body, and a shiver ran round the whole meeting looking for a spine to run up.

But you’ll note that the UK Government targets Yemen in its prognostications. Those ideas are developed further elsewhere. So having targeted Iraq and having a good go at Iran they are now having a go at a third state in the area. No wonder the whole of Islam feels under threat from the west. All they really need to do is to have a good go at Syria, which will no doubt be forthcoming in early course, and they will have ringed and surrounded the chief culprit in the whole of the Al-Qaida network – namely Saudi Arabia. Of the 19 hijackers of September 11th, 15 were Saudis. They were trained by a Saudi, led by a Saudi and financed by a Saudi (who just happens to be a big pal of the Bushbaby’s daddy) and so the western world invaded …. errr …. Afghanistan. Of course with the west getting half of its oil from Saudi Arabia it was never likely to tackle Al Qaida and Bin Laden on their home territory in case Bin Laden’s dad, the fourth-richest man in Saudi Arabia, cuts off the western supply of oil. And as more and more of Iraqi oil is sold to the likes of China and Angola, then the west’s dependency on the spiritual home of Al Qaida for its oil is not likely to end any time soon.

Thirdly, it appears that the UK National Health Service is about to collapse underneath the weight of the drunks and binge drinkers in the country. So sozzled has British society become that the Brits are totally shameless about it. Someone on a certain Social Networking site not so long ago posted with pride that she didn’t remember anything after 11 o clock on one particular and woke up next day at 1:30 in the afternoon still in her clothes and shoes, so she must have had a good time, and she can’t wait to go out and get wrecked again. In fact so sozzled is the UK right at this moment that the answer is staring them in the face and they are too p155ed to see it. All you do, to solve the crisis is to put an extra 50p tax on the price of an individual drink, or £4:00 on the price of a bottle, and give all the extra tax raised to the NHS.

Problem solved.

Mnd you, knowing the NHS as I do, what they will do with the money is to engage thousands of extra consultants to advise on how to spend the money, and when they send in their bills the total will be about exactly the amount received, so nothing at all will reach the front line and the NHS will be back where it started.

No surprise there.

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