McMinn & Cheese

  • A Podcast: The Obald
  • About
  • Archives
  • Contact
  • Fiction and non-fiction books
  • Is your new bike any good?

    May 22nd, 2011

    new bike

    Review of Trek 1.2 2011 (£700 from Trek Store, Milton Keynes)

    Pros: Lightweight, Good price, Feels quick

    Cons: Toe clips, You feel every bump

    I’d been riding a Trek 7100 for around 8 years and wanted to upgrade to a proper road bike. The 1.2 is a proper road bike at a reasonable price, and feels like a quality buy. £700 seems like a lot of money to non-cyclists, but in this day and age anything under £1000 qualifies as cheap-ish. So you can buy bikes for a lot less, but they don’t work very well and they tend to weigh a lot more.

    I’d always been unhappy with the size of my 7100FX. I went shopping for it with a friend I considered an expert, but he was a mountain biker as opposed to a road racer, and he was also a lot shorter than me. I ended up on a “medium” frame, which for the 7100 (a hybrid), meant about 50 centimetres. Although it wasn’t a question of legs being too long for pedals, I always felt like a bit of a giant on it. Still, the main issue I had with it was the riding position. I grew up riding drop handlebar bikes, and I never, ever, got used to the more upright straight handlebar position. To this day, the popularity of these things bewilders me.

    I’d been thinking about an upgrade for a year or so. I didn’t want to rush into it, as the impulse to buy something at any price was what got me stuck with a bike I didn’t really like in the first place. I considered a fixie, not because they’re fashionable but because I’m hopeless at anything resembling maintenance, and I liked the idea of no gears or sprockets. I’ve always found that eventually the shifters start playing up and you end up with half the number of gears you started with. I even paid for my old bike to be serviced in an attempt to fix the gears, but that was a waste of money. So I was looking at the Trek District, and even experimented with rides on my usual circuit in which I didn’t allow myself to change gear, just to see if I could do it; in the end I decided it would be too much of a compromise, because my circuit is not very flat at all. We’re not talking Tour de France mountains, but it’s very undulating round here and I live at the top of a very steep hill.

    So I got that impulse out of my system. The next step was to decide whether I was going to spend around £500 I didn’t have, or go all the way to £700 I didn’t have. At a time when the whole world was becoming obsessed with the iPad, I thought about it for a long time and decided that while I would never be able to justify spending £500 I didn’t have on a gadget, I’m quite at ease with doing so on a bike.

    Earlier this year, I went to the doctor about my persistent and regular headaches. For a number of years now I’ve been getting them like clockwork: at least once a week, a headache that no amount of painkillers would shift. I could make myself woozy and I could knock myself out, but I couldn’t shift the headache. This year was particularly bad. My teaching timetable gave me 14 lessons (out of the weekly total of 22) before a single free period. Monday and Tuesday were full on, and it wasn’t till Wednesday afternoon that I got a much needed hour to decompress. Teaching can be intense, especially in the Autumn term, and I was waking up every Wednesday with one of those headaches.

    So I went to the doctor, and he took my blood pressure: sky high. Which I’m assuming it had been for years. I’ve been on medication for it ever since, and I’ve had two, maybe three, headaches of normal proportions since November. But exercise is an issue. I hate the idea of the gym, and I can’t run (hips) and I hate getting wet. Cycling has been a life-long exercise for me, but in the past couple of years (mainly due to the excuse of bad summer weather), I just haven’t been out on the bike enough. So I wanted an incentive: a bike I didn’t kind of hate riding, so that if the weather was even halfway decent, I’d lack that excuse.

    I shopped around. I know nothing about the technical stuff of bikes, what all the bits are called, or the differences between Shimano this and Shimano that. I know the difference between steel, aluminium, and carbon, though. I kind of knew that the lightest steel was more flexible and would be better on bumpy roads, but I also knew my budget wouldn’t stretch to it. So it had to be an aluminium frame. £500 gets to aluminium forks as well, whereas the extra £200 gets you carbon forks and a new experience of lightness.

    I’m a brand-loyal person. I drive VW cars (and would, still, even if I won the lottery), and I drive Apple computers. I love Illy coffee and Banette bread. I don’t like things that only a privileged few can afford, so I admire mass-produced quality. My brother-in-law objects to the homogeneous nature of Banette bakeries; my attitude is that they provide quality bread that tastes good for ordinary people to buy.

    So it was kind of inevitable I’d be looking at Trek bikes, since I’d been riding one for 8 years: even though I didn’t like riding it that much, I knew there was nothing inherently wrong with the bike. By coincidence, it turns out that Trek are beginning to experiment with retail stores, and had just opened one in what used to be the Borders bookshop building in Milton Keynes.

    A few years ago, a lot of people sneered at the idea of Apple opening retail stores. I worked for an Apple dealer and I could feel the threat but even so, I didn’t imagine Apple would get so good at customer service. I get my car serviced at a VW dealer for the same reason. Our local independent garage are decent enough, but they don’t valet your car free of charge when you take it in for a service. So I was intrigued to see whether Trek were going to do it right. They’d already made it impossible to for dealers to sell their bikes using mail order: you have to pick it up in person, because Trek don’t want customers assembling their own bikes.

    So we wandered down there. It was quite exciting, the shop, because it shares the premises with a Cotswold outdoor shop (I love camping gear!). We walked in, found the model I was thinking of buying (the 1.2), and a member of staff approached us. This is the make or break point. I hate bike shops and guitar shops for more or less the same reason: the staff tend to treat you with contempt. The guy in the Trek shop was friendly, non-judgemental, and allowed me to talk myself into it as opposed to giving me the hard sell.

    I didn’t have the money, but I knew I’d be marking exams later in the summer. My reasoning was that, if I waited till I was paid for that, I wouldn’t be getting the bike until July. And then I’d go to France for a couple of weeks (I bought a cheap bike last summer to use when I’m at the in-law’s), and come back some time in August, and then it would be raining till September. So, if I waited, I probably wouldn’t get to ride the thing much until next Spring. Also, Trek had an offer going on where you got 10% of the bike’s value in free accessories. So I got £70 worth of bits on top.

    I got the bike at the beginning of May. I went for the compact, which has just the two sprockets on the front cog – I figure that if I’d gone for the triple, only two of them would have ended up working. I’d already ridden out on the old one quite a few times, because the weather has been so good, but since getting the new one I’ve made sure to go out at least three times a week. I was immediately 2 mph faster. It feels light and fast, but the smaller, thinner wheels do not like the pot holes around here.

    I use it on the country lanes near where I live, which unfortunately are not the best road surfaces in pot-hole Britain. I reckon there are few counties have it worse than Buckinghamshire in terms of road surface. There are a lot of 2-ton 4×4 cars around here, and the council have been neglecting the roads for at least 20 years.

    You can’t blame the bike for the bad roads, but you can tell the difference on a smooth stretch. I reckon the quality of the roads costs me about 4mph on average speed. On the occasional smooth bit of road, this bike feels wonderful, and I’d love to try it somewhere where bad winters, SUVs, and underfunded public services haven’t conspired to destroy the roads. Yesterday, I tried out a new, longer route than my usual, and it involved a short stretch on a dual carriageway near Silverstone. This stretch was actually a little bit uphill, but I was cruising along quite easily at 18-19 mph, which is very good for me. It was smoooth – but then Silverstone is in Northants. On the usual (Buckinghamshire) surface, I can’t go very fast even on the downhill stretches, because it’s just too dangerous (the road out of Whittlebury is almost unrideable – felt like riding on cobbles).

    My one real criticism of the bike is the quality of the toe clips. They were utterly useless. I know they’re a bit old-fashioned these days, but I prefer to wear a shoe I can walk in as well as ride. I’ve swapped out the toe clips for those from my old 7100FX. I think it’s a bit mean, on a £700 bicycle, to shave costs on something like a toe clip.I hate that feeling when you spend so much and have to spend a little more to get a decent experience.

  • Football is shit, isn’t it?

    April 8th, 2011

    I’m not keen on the football. Years of indifference have hardened me to all discussion of results and incidents. Listening to my students discuss it, it seems obvious that it exists only to give men something meaningless and trivial to talk about to fill the hours between being born and dying.

    I sustained a minor interest in the international game for a while. I could sit through a Euro or World Cup tournament. At least they were only every other year. I’m a firm believer in making most annual sporting events biannual. How much more refreshing would, say, Wimbledon be if it didn’t happen every fucking year?

    It was the BBC killed my final, lingering interest in international football. The marketing monkeys who have taken over the corporation have just lost all perspective. They did it with the Olympics, and then they did it with the South African World Cup. Every. Fucking. Programme. Had. Somebody. On. The. Spot.

    They sent everybody to Beijing, and then everybody went to South Africa. In reality, they could have sat a couple of presenters in a studio in London and the experience for the audience at home would have been exactly the same.

    But the wall to wall coverage, with endless bleeding discussions about meaningless trivia and minutiae drove me to the edge. I’ve been listening to Five Live since 1996. I knew everything that was going on, even though I had no interest, no team to support. I’ve listened to the sports news, the commentaries, the discussions, the interviews with managers about referees, the interviews with referees about managers, and the endless screaming trailers featuring Alan Green.

    No more.

    In a reverse of the move I’d made 15 years ago, I switched my radio from Five Live to Radio 4. I left Radio 4 in 1996 because I couldn’t bear the religion or the dull arts programmes with discussions of such artistic luminaries as Lloyd Cole and the Commotions. I left Five Live because I had lost the will to live when listening to yet another two hours of filler with the incredibly dull Alan Davies and his incredibly dull friends trying to be funny about vuvuzelas.

    So I’ve had a season off from football, more or less. I feel lighter for it, liberated, though I want to shut off all conversations about it within earshot. When I returned to Radio 4 and heard The Archers for the first time in a decade or more, I realised that it was exactly the same, that I hadn’t missed anything. And I bet if I start paying attention to football again in 15 years, it too will be exactly the same. The same drivel being talked by the same pundits; the same “controversy” about refereeing decisions and indiscreet managers; the same pointlessly angry and aggressive players.

    I know I haven’t really given anything up because I didn’t care in the first place. But I do feel richer, having filled the space in my life with something else. I still hate religious programmes, and I still want to stick knitting needles in my ears when I hear Mark Lawson, but at least I don’t hear Alan Green screaming about nothing in particular. Life is good.

  • Why is The Killing so popular with the Guardianistas?

    April 4th, 2011
    A publicity still from Dustbin Baby showing Ap...
    Image via Wikipedia

    It’s an interesting puzzle that a fairly standard crime drama, once transposed to an exotic* location and into an exotic* language, suddenly becomes must-see TV, much discussed on the excellent Guardian series blogs.

    I find these blogs are often more entertaining and interesting than the programmes themselves. This was especially true in the case of Outcasts, and was almost true in the case of The Killing, also known as Forbrydelsen in its original language. Only Forbrydelsen means “Crime” according to Google, so I don’t know where they got Killing from.

    It struck me watching ITV’s Lewis on Sunday night. There he was, bumbling along, one step behind (title of a Wallander novel, fact fans), trying to catch a killer who struck again and again when it was obvious all along who it was: the special guest star Juliet Stevenson, because she was, you know, the special guest star.

    Guardian readers suffer from some of the worst TV snobbery in the history of the world.They fall over themselves to praise The Wire and The Sopranos because they feature swears and boobies. They neglect more mainstream shows simply for being too mainstream. The Guardian blogs the likes of The Killing but allows Justified to languish at the arse end of Five USA, unremarked.

    But then I was watching Lewis and I had an epiphany. The Killing was all right, of course it was, but the main thing it had was a cast that we hadn’t seen 65 million times before. Because the big problem with British TV isn’t the small pool of talent, but the small pool of talent that gets used by programme makers. Ninety percent of actors are unemployed, and the remaining ten percent get all the work. It’s not who you are, it’s who you know. Tried and trusted trumps the new and the unusual every time.

    Except when they buy in a subtitled cop drama, and then we get to spend 20 hours or so in the company of actors who aren’t Juliet Stevenson, Sarah Parish or James Nesbit or [insert your least favourite British actor here]. This makes for a fresh breath of television air.

    *Tak!

    Related Articles
    • The Killing, a slow-moving drama with subtitles, is a hit for BBC (guardian.co.uk)
    • Have you been watching The Killing? (guardian.co.uk)
  • What would you take on Desert Island Discs?

    April 3rd, 2011
    Jonathan Richman
    Image by GregPC via Flickr

    Discs or Disks?

    I don’t know and I can’t be bothered to look it up.

    I will never be invited to appear on Desert Island Discs or Disks. I have resigned myself to that. I will never be famous, not even in my home town. Anyway, that programme has always annoyed me by cutting the tracks short when played. What if I were to choose something with a great guitar solo and they faded it out before? I know the programme is supposed to be about the interesting person being interviewed, but let’s face it: the songs are usually the most interesting thing.

    I find it hard to choose just 8 tracks. I would be one of those people who could get invited on multiple times, and I’d choose something different each time.

    1. “Jessica” – The Allman Brothers. There needs to be something that reaches back to my formative years. This is one of what I think of as the Radio Caroline tracks. To everyone else, it’s the Top Gear theme. To me it’s Dickey Betts‘ finest hour. I especially love the bit in the middle that you would never hear on Top Gear. I also love the 70s sound mix. Two drummers, and you can barely hear either of them. This track reminds me of late nights under the bedsheets, fine tuning the radio to pick up the faint Caroline signal from the North Sea.

    2. “Rich Girl” – Hall and Oates. I’ve tried listening to other Hall and Oates songs, and they’re hateful, and the 80s production values are simply terrible. But “Rich Girl” is a great song and at just over 2 minutes it’s the antidote to the 7-minute “Jessica”. I think this is probably another Radio Caroline track. but I can’t be sure. Surely this would have been played on mainstream radio, too? Anyway, it represents adulthood to me. By which I mean, how it’s easy to forget sometimes that you don’t need permission to like something, and that if you’ve always wanted something, ever since you were young, there’s very little to stand in your way. I used to sing this to myself on my teenage bike rides. And here we are, I’m nearly fifty and I play this to myself from my phone on my bike rides.

    3. “Just About Seventeen” – Jonathan Richman. Someone once said to me that, like him, I would always fall in love with women at the same age. I think about this a lot, but I’ve come to realise that we all – to a certain extent – suffer from arrested development. For various reasons, I still feel exactly the same as I did when I was seventeen. Oh, I can put on the world weariness for effect, and I can view some things as used up and over with, but when I’m out on my bike, I still feel exactly the same (and exactly as unfit and weedy) as I did when I was seventeen. Life can be unresolved sometimes, and that’s how it is for me. On the positive side, I think that being “young at heart” is a good thing. Jonathan Richman is like an ideal mirror self. I love how this sounds, this doo wop, late fifties poppy rock and roll vibe.

    4. “Up to Me” – Bob Dylan. One my my favourite Bob Dylan songs, and one that – for most of the world – was unheard until it was dig up for one of his many boxed sets. You can puzzle for hours as to why he left this off Blood on the Tracks, or you can just be grateful that they at least kept the tape. This comes from the first thoroughly documented and recorded century, the 20th, and it’s an object lesson in how the artist is sometimes not best qualified to judge their own work.

    5. “South of Cincinatti” – Dwight Yoakam. If there’s a moment in my life that change the course of it, it’s the night I got drunk and listened to a mix tape of what was then called “New Country” made by a work colleague. I’d tried to listen to it in the car when sober, but it didn’t make sense to me until, late on a Saturday night and drunk on whiskey, I listened to the tape with my then-girlfriend and then-best friend. We phoned to guy up at about 1 a.m. to tell him how great it was. I don’t think he appreciated the call at the time, but I expect he did later. Discovering proper country music meant that my musical tastes – from Beatles for Sale, Nashville Skyline and The Band, started to make sense.

    6. “Lay it Down” – Kim Richey. Most of the time, these days, I prefer to listen to female vocals. Kim Richey is a fine songwriter, and when Trisha Yearwood sings one of her songs it’s a great combination. This particular song is representative of a particular strand of music. It’ll never trouble the charts, and the name will mean nothing to almost everyone, but when you hear a song like this you have to wonder why that might be.

    7. “Wait it Out” – Tift Merritt. For a little while it seemed as if Tift Merritt might make it big. Her first album got good reviews, and then she teamed up with Producer George Drakoulis for her second record, Tambourine. And it was great, got airplay on Radio 2, and included corking songs and great musicianship. When you’re playing with two of the Heartbreakers, you’re onto a good thing. This, for me, is guitarist Mike Campbell’s finest hour. But like Maria McKee before her (who also worked with Drakoulis), Ms Merritt went in a less commercial direction, and she contents herself with regular touring of small venues and album sales to a select audience. I can understand that. It seems like a more sustainable life, and makes being a travelling musician more like a proper job. On the other hand, “Wait it Out” is still stunningly visceral, and a taste of what might have been.

    8. “Learning to Fly” – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. F-C-Am-G. I love the way songwriters like Petty can write classic songs using the chords everybody knows. And I love the way the chorus and the verses of this have the same chords. He did the same on “Free Fallin’”. I’m hard pushed at times to pick a favourite of an artist who has achieved so much, but I think this is it. Very simple, but depending on your mood, this can be one of the most uplifting songs ever.

←Previous Page
1 … 102 103 104

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011
  • July 2011
  • June 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • Follow Following
    • McMinn & Cheese
    • Join 425 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • McMinn & Cheese
    • Edit Site
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar