under another sun

Gah, so my ankle was bad again today, making walking quite tricky. I missed the Silver Jubilee festivities in 1977 as I had glandular fever, and have generally passed on these, choosing to sit about like Jabba the Hut with a sore ankle, experiencing everything vicariously via TV coverage of the Jubilee concert outside Buckingham Palace, being fed by the ever patient Lorraine. The Jubilee dominated the TV tonight. London looked nice, and being charitable about it, it was a good enough knees up. The Queen arrived late, and sensibly brought ear plugs to block out the pop longueurs. These events are always good value, and Grace Jones hula hooping throughout her song was rather fun, although she and Stevie Wonder both seemed to think it was the Queen's birthday. Stevie Wonder even singing his 'Happy Birthday to ya' song. Couldn't help thinking that Queenie would have rather been indoors with a nice cup of tea, followed by few gins than listening to the likes of C...

So day two of a four day long weekend, all thanks to the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. This being June, and England in drought, it rained steadily on the flotilla of boats drifting soggily down the Thames and it was unseasonally cold. The Queen, I felt, looked understandably glum, the flypast of historic planes had to be cancelled, and the BBC's coverage of the event and of the hordes waving their sodden Union Flags was poor. Watching singers, hair plastered to their heads, bobbing on a boat on the muddy grey water belting out Land of Hope and Glory did make me think that our true National treasure is comedy. Rather conflicted by this Jubilee stuff as I am not a royalist and loath the idea of inherited privilege, but I also have a curious admiration for the Queen. Though after she goes, what's left is shite and onions. Meanwhile my ankle which had been causing me a degree of gyp throughout the week, exacerbated by several lively gym sessions, felt fiery and tendon...