6:00 – Up, somehow. Sit. Breakfast. H goes out. I manage yoga and other preparatories. Just as I’m checking my phone prior to leaving, I discover that there’s a message telling me not to.
I check the availability of various electronic-musical goods. One not available at all, two readily available. Given that having them delivered to an address other than this is tricky, I blag a lift to Clapham.
Digital Village isn’t really a shop, and as I walk in I feel that I’m somehow intruding, and the chap who serves me, though pleasant, is slightly bewildered to be selling something, I think.
At the next desk, someone fields questions from a customer, then calls up a distributor and asks them the questions, then calls the customer back and and repeats the answers. I’m not sure of the point of retail.
I leave with a USB keyboard and a mic pre-amp, which will help in the recording I’m not quite getting around to at the moment.
Spend the afternoon playing with the keyboard. Technology has developed to the extent that one can while away happy hours listening to the presets without actually doing anything of consequence. I also eat more sandwiches than I’d thing to be a good idea and watch some of the latter episodes of The War Games, Patrick Troughton’s swan song as The Doctor and the first time the Time Lords are introduced. I vaguely remember this from 1969, and am surprised that my vague memories are fairly accurate. People going from place to place are travelling by TARDIS. Or SIDRAT. Or something.
Check with Ben and H to find out if they want to see Hellboy 2 tonight, and they do.
I meet Haru at Waterloo Station at 17:45 and we walk up to the National Gallery which is shut (we’d thought it open, and had arranged to meet Ben in front of the Ucello St George). I try calling Ben and instead get through to a glum-sounding Glaswegian. Um.
Meet Ben, and we decide to go to the Cinema-ish cinema on Shaftesbury Avenue rather than the probable cupboard in the multiplex.
Dinner at Stockpot, which is rather pleasant, then Ben buys books from Foyles, and nobody buys anything from Fopp.
Go to the Cinema, watch too many ads, a few trailers and the film, which is magnificent. It’s a shame B del T is off to New Zealand for a very long time on Hobbit duty, as I’d like to see what he’d do with Hellboy 3. More importantly I don’t want to find out what anyone else would do with it.
As we arrive at the bus stop a 176 arrives, which is a sign. And the driver drops us off at a convenient stop (which he doesn’t have to, as he’s on a detour).
Home. Watch the last bit of the last episode of The War Games.