puncture repair man

My car got a puncture on Thursday, a bit of shrapnel picked up near the house.. I only got about 5 yards down the road and the thunp gudump thump gudump thump of the flat tyre pulled me up short. Now, I can change a tyre of course blah blah manly pride blah blah BUT I had to get some work done and before that get to the consultants for him to check out the neck and a new achey lump under the scar line (see previous posts on brush with tumour, lump-odectomy etc). The lump is just new (strangely) scar tissue he says, phew so leave that to one side.

This post is really to say, the guy who came out to swap off the tyre, go order a new one and fit it later that day was a really decent asian guy called (for short anyway) Izzy.
Why blog that? Because I rarely get to meet and chat with Asian origin (of any generation) , working class (or any class) people and as we swapped anecdotes of cars we have had, of fire festivals in Huddersfield, of how he had returned a dropped handbag to a lady's house and she had closed the door in fear or ignorance on him, it sort of dawned on me that , well .. not sure.. Insert some platitude about peace and understanding in these troubled times here... but I mean it.
We're all the same, he wasn't a muslim or a 2nd or 3rd generation asian and I wasn't a white man (or a 3rd generation Irish immigrant or 2nd generation scot or a lapsed - to the point of amnesia - catholic). We were, standing on a cold street kicking a tyre and chewing the fat, just two blokes who seemed to have the same values and outlook.
Peace y'all.

We're just outside of Peterborough and the loud precise voice of the hotel owner two seats behind me is explaining for the 3rd time to someone at the end of his phone how those that want a cheap deal should go into the smallest single bedrooms. This on the back of a carriage-disturbing call to his personal banker to extend his overdraft as he has at least £30k coming in, in the next 3 weeks.. That'll be from the poor saps who pay over the odds for your shoe box accommodation then?

The hotel is part of (I quote, not as loud as he did..) "the smartest conference centre in the uk - no, put plushest - in the uk. Do you think country, or uk? Put uk. Check it out. No, I mean don't check out if it is, I know it is, just put ‘check it out’ on the bottom. Get it printed"
Said overbearing pink be-tied, receding silver mullet haired gent in long navy blue cashmere city gun slinger slicker coat just departed the train, noise pollution and corporate discretion flapping behind him along the platform.

I haven't (again) blogged for a while.

I have found it hard to both steer around and indeed detail in this public vehicle the very tragic death of charlotte and guy’s baby girl a couple of weeks back. I wanted to chronicle something as a respectful marking of their loss as I did for diver-chris when he died but I am not sure if it is right to include within what is essentially usually a self-reflective whimsical outlet for my ramblings.
Suffice then to say I continue to feel terribly sad for them and the fork in the road that isla's short life brought them to and I wish them fortitude and nothing but happier times for the journey ahead.

Back to my usual drivel... My flickr ocd is moving on apace, I do try to have some discretionary eye on what I snap and post and I'm actually looking forward to the marsden group social (yikes) in a week or so.