What the hell is it that possesses some people to like the styles of the 1950's?

First off, there's people who decorate their houses in the "Fifties style". This "50's" look they go after centres almost entirely around the 1950's American diner look.

It's a look that's fine in a diner, in the United States, but looks like a sad clown that's seen happier days when it's in a 1970's semi in Britain.

Sorry, but it's just garish. Those days are over, so stop it. Then again, unless you were living in the US and in that decade, those days never were so what the fuck are you clinging on to? "Good old days" that never actually existed?

Secondly, there's people who dress in fifties styles.

I mean, come on folks, you claim to want the "fifties look", then lets see you do it properly. Men, sporting tedious "short back and sides" haircuts, slicked back at all times. V-neck pullovers, and 'slacks' not jeans.

Denim jeans weren't worn in Britain until the 1960's for God's sake. If you're British and living in Britain then the 1950's look is as described above, namely not-much-different-from-the-1940's. There was rationing in the UK in the 50's. The country was almost bankrupt after fighting the Second World War for (the full) six years.

The Teddy-boy look just makes you look like a twat. Correction. A twat with no sense of how embarrassing you look.

Not convinced? I have one word for you: Hi-de-hi.

This especially applies to anyone who wasn't alive during that period. It's one thing to cling on to a decade or style you enjoyed when it was happening, but it's frankly pathetic to cling on to a style and time for which you weren't even around.

These often the same sad-sack people, who idolise Elvis Presley. I'm not talking about people old enough to have been fans when Elvis first became famous. I'm talking about people my age (born in the late 60's and the 70's)

Sorry, but whilst he may have 'had something going on' in the fifties and sixties, by the time you were born, he was either a drug-soaked tub of lard, or dead. He does not live. The King is deceased. Passed on. He is no more. He is an ex-person.

Please, for God's sake, get over it, get a clue about decorating, and get a haircut that wouldn't be a danger to wildlife, if you fell in the sea.

Max has left the building.

Hier, quand je faisais ma exposition par radio, j'ai joué un disque par Red Garland, appelé, "Darling, Je Vous Aime Beacoup".

Prouver juste aux auditeurs que je PEUX parler une autre langue, après avoir ruiné beaucoup de les noms latins de chanson et de musicien de jazz, j'ai exécuté la coupure de vol avant elle, en français.

J'ai dit, "vous écoutez le jazz quatre-vingts neuf. Et c'est Red Garland"

Le patron, un latino-américain lui-même, s'est fortement amusé par ceci.

Philippe, je fais des excuses si ce n'est pas 100% correct. Je n'ai pas écrit le français en années, et étais toujours meilleur à le parler.

OK, so I did a (potentially) sell-out/bad thing today.

I had an actual job interview. The thing is, it was at Starbucks. Yes, Mr Independent-Coffee-House-Afficionado interviewed at the Big S. Desperate times cause us to do desperate things, I suppose.

Then again, engaging my brain's 'optimism chip', should I end up working there, I'll view it as a good source of material for many amusing tales of life and lattés. No, really. I'll make it funny, I promise.

In case you care, the interview seemed to go really well. The manageress, a red-head, with piercing green eyes, didn't say, "You've got the job", but she basically said, "I think I can work with you".

Better yet, she's going to check with the regional headquarters and see if there are any management jobs going. Call me Mr Fasttrack!

OK, so what's become of Max the Media Maven? Mr Mac-using, Public Radio broadcasting, seeker of the alternative. Is he selling out? Joining management? Whatever next? Learn to ski? Vote Republican? No, dear reader, this isn't the beginning of the end for me, it's just a question of "needs must when the Devil drives".

Frankly, after so long, looking for a job, with little or no response from anyone, it's just nice to meet someone who'd like to give me one.

A job, that is. ;-)

It's entirely possible that I've mentioned Stella's Coffee Haus before. It's one of my favourites in Denver, despite its lack of free high-speed internet service for patrons.

It's what looks to have formerly been a private house, and so it has many rooms in which one can lounge whilst getting seriously agitated with caffeine. Unless, that is, you're one of the wussy big-girls-blouses that doesn't do the shaking man's drug of choice.

So, after dinner with a friend, I popped into Stella's, fully intending to grab a coffee and head home with it. For some reason, I forget what, I ended up getting a seat and staying a short while.

There was the usual funky beat going on in there, together with enough students to constitute a lecture audience. I resisted the temptation to give one, however.

Of course if this were Britain, said students would be down the pub, not drinking coffee. However, due to the Dickensian licensing laws of Colorado (and most of the US) you can't legally buy a beer until you're 21.

By the time they hit 21 of course, said students have been at college for so long, without legal recourse to alcohol, that then often end up trying to play catch-up for the preceeding years of alcohol-free college.

By contrast, British students, will have been steadily drinking themselves under the table, legally, since the age of 18. We start 'em young in Europe. Of course I actually bought my first pint at the age of 15, but that's another story.

Of course you can buy a gun in Colorado as long as you're over 12 (days old).

It's perhaps a measure of how puritanical Colorado is as a state, that its student populace were there, on a Friday night, studying. I mean, it was Thursday night! You know? The start of the student weekend? Party time.

And I'm not talking about the so-dorky-they-never-party contingent, either. No, the Beautiful People, and the Not Completely Plug-Ugly People, of DU were there, each armed with a laptop computer.

Given the lack of internet access there, they could only have been using their computers to write papers.

So I sat there, the oldest person in the place by a good 10 years or more, and read the paper. If I'd been wearing a flat cap and had a small dog with me, I'd have felt more into my role as the 'old man' of the place.

Instead, I chatted with Tim via text messaging. He was on a train from Budapest to Venice.

So after such a jolly time, I left Stella's, passing three SWAT team cops getting coffee at the counter. They were disappointed that Stella's doesn't sell doughnuts, but luckily kept their tear-gas grenades to themselves, and didn't try to storm the pantry. I returned to the car, which, because of my original plan being to just grab a coffee and leave, was parked in the "Loading Only" zone.

Quite how none of Denver's finest, spotted this transgression is beyond me. I mean, you only have to fart in the wrong musical key in Denver and you get a ticket. I'm sure I read somewhere that there are bylaws you can be ticketed on for the offense of "Looking At A Police Officer A Bit Funny", and "Not Having A Broncos Bumper Sticker".

On the upside, at least the policemen weren't staring to look younger.

The following story appealed to me, if only because I'm a geek who's been known to play the odd computer game now and again.

It seems a woman in England, whilst doing some promotional work, dressed as Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider game series, caused an incident, when seen brandishing two guns near a supermarket.

Police armed-response units were called out, and after a short (probably Benny-Hill-like chase), hilarity ensued. Except that is, for the woman concerned, who got a bit of a talking to by Lilly Law.

Full story here.

I've been fiddling with a new look for the site for a few weeks. Well, to be quite honest, a few weeks ago I had a bit of a redesign session, but had problems making it work properly with MoveableType.

So what I think I might do, in the interim, is try to recreate the part of the redesign that worked, and leave out the part that didn't.

If there are any MoveableType experts reading this, let me know, as you might be able to fix the problem with my new template in a single keystroke.

It's probably one of those, "been staring at the code too long to see the problem" type of problems.

More news, err..sometime soon.

Just a quick note.

I'm hosting Midday At The Oasis on KUVO tomorrow and Monday.

So dial 89.3FM for Maxwell.

After last week's drains debacle, I took a couple of pictures of the repair work.

Extreme Gardening

Miles' only comment was, "How come I get in trouble for digging in the garden, and you let these guys do THIS?!"

On Sunday night, I saw the latest film from the team, lead by Christopher Guest, that brought you such cinematic gems as Best In Show, Waiting For Guffman and This Is Spinal Tap.

The film, A Mighty Wind (IMDB entry here), follows the same format as the others, namely a mockumentary, most of it ad-libbed by the incredibly talented cast.

You can read the plot at IMDB. In short, it's about a memorial concert for a folk concert promoter, staring three bands that were famous and successful about 30-35 years ago.

This film, IMHO, is even funnier than Waiting For Guffman. Eugene Levy is at his best, as the seemingly lobotomised half of a sixties folk couple

As ever, all the dialogue is improvised by the actors as they film it, but that doesn't stop it from being damn funny. In fact I think the improvisation makes the lines seem all the more realistic.

I'll leave it at that, except to say if you enjoyed the previous films of this ilk, you'll love this one too.

It's currently on limited release in the US (14 cities in selected theatres, probably Landmark Theaters), and will go on general release at some point. No sign of European release dates either.

I don't tend to report on the mundanities of everyday life, unless that is, they're amusing. However, this week, the drains have been blocked at DMfM Headquarters. So I called in a drainage company that'd I've used in the past, on the two houses I've owned in the US.

Things did not go well. The man from Hurricane Drain ended up partially clearing the blockage, but in doing so, he broke the inch-thick metal cable, which hit him in the leg and face, at high speed, as it sheered off from the machine.

So the following day a man with a tiny video camera on the end of other cable came, and gave it a look. The drain pipe just ended somewhere under the back yard, leading to dirt, where more pipe should have been.

Today, we ended up with a back hoe in the back yard, digging down to where the problem was.

Caption Competition
At the same time as this, a mysterious box has appeared near by. It looks like this:

My suggestion: "New Affordable Housing Initiative Starts in Cherry Creek"

Use the comments facility to make your suggestions.

Yesterday, I watched the morning news on KWGN - Denver's WB affiliate.

Their "Car Report" was on the latest American motoring obscenity, the Hummer H2.

The "reporter" kept mentioning that the vehicle, unlike the H1, was aimed at women drivers!

Hello? It's based on a military vehicle! It does 8mpg. What the fuck is the need for this vehicle, apart from some sort of Search & Rescue operation?

I'm reminded of that Viz fake advert for Land Rovers, poking fun at the wealthy mothers who use them just to transport their spawn around. The caption was, "School up a fucking mountain? Then you need a Land Rover!"

I wrote to "the WB" (as they like to be called, in the hope that we'll forget they're a massive, uncaring media corporation), here's the email I sent:

My question is, just who is paying WB2 to promote vehicles like the Hummer H2?

It's bad enough that what are essentially military vehicles are now marketed to the general public, without the media promoting them as a good idea.

The United States is notoriously the world's biggest polluter, and for many years, American cars have been well-known as the most fuel-inefficient vehicles in the world.

Whilst there are hybrid vehicles out there, making some attempt to redress the balance, don't you think that your station should not be promoting such environmentally destructive vehicles as the H2?

And in addition abysmal fuel consumption of such a vehicle, the other question is, just why does Denver's Mrs Soccer-mom need this kind of vehicle? It's not like Denver's high-schools are located high up in the mountains with no paved roads for the last five miles.

I'm not saying that we should censor our news broadcasts, but this isn't really news is it? No, at best it's a review, at worst, a free commercial for the product.

There are a vast number of SUVs already out there, many of which are driven by people with no clue as to how big their vehicle is, or the fact that it doesn't handle the same as the Honda Accord they used to drive. Given that, don't you think that WB2 should maybe focus its car promotion away from such tributes to American excess as the Hummer?

Perhaps features on just frighteningly easy it is for anyone with a pulse to be granted a driving licence, might be more appropriate? Maybe a driving test that lasts more than 10 minutes would help?

Maybe you could get your motoring correspondent to spend time covering why the standard of driving in Colorado is so bad, and why this leads to so many accidents, every day, on the streets and highways of metro Denver.

Then again, maybe challenging Americans' "God given right to drive everywhere, rather than walk" is un-patriotic? I'm sure it wouldn't get the ratings.

Max Turner

And yes, I drive a small SUV, but I have two 90lb dogs to transport about, I actually take it off-road sometimes, it gets more than twice the gas-mileage of the H2, and I walk to places whenever possible. Also, the other vehicle is a fuel-efficient European VW.

Should I move out of the mountain state, or back to Europe, I want to get the New Mini (42.5mpg!)

Regular readers will be aware of my long-time friend, drinking partner, and partner in crime, Tim, who lives in my old home town of Bath, in the UK.

Tim is also a techie (only he still has a job), however, has resisted starting a website, or blog, protesting that he'll wait until he has something funny or interesting to say.

I've seen his writing, and it's always very funny (of course I could be biased), but despite my pleas, he's been reluctant to unleash his wit upon an unsuspecting world. Until now.

Currently, he is InterRailing. For those non-European readers, let me explain.

InterRailing was a scheme, aimed at students (maximum age was 23), whereby you bought a ticket that lasted a month, and allowed you to take as many trains and subway train journeys as you wanted, anywhere in Europe. It was something that people often did either between school and college, or just after graduating from college.

Well now it seems, the greedy, money-grabbing opportunistic benevolent folks who run the railways, have extended the InterRailing option to those over the age of 23. Tim is a little over that age.

Anyway, you can read about his adventures (best read in a Yorkshire accent) at GotMagee.com.

Warning: the above linked site, contains some words and phrases which may baffle or bewilder non-British readers

Attn: The Two Blonde Cherry Creek Lebensborn in Güzel recently.

You will not "do some chai latté". It is not an activity, nor is it thing you can have sex with.

You will "have a chai latté".

Sorry, but having to listen to your whiney pseudo-Californian voices saying "I'll do some chai" is the grammatical equivalent of someone scraping their nails down a blackboard, or playing "New Country" music to me.

Job-hunting is depressing enough, without the floor show. Knock it off.

OK. I admit it. I'm so tired of looking at job adverts, I'll let anything distract me.

"Why, of course, the people don't want war. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders . . . All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of
patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country."

Was it Bush Jr? Dick Cheney? John Ashcroft?

Click the 'read more' link to find out which top government figure said it.

-- Hermann Goering, at the Nuremberg war-crimes tribunal

During my radio show yesterday, I was called in the studio, by Mr David Booker. He's a blues musician, and fellow Englishman, who lives in Denver. I'd met him a week or two ago, whilst out drinking with Darrin from the station.

A Week Or So Ago
At the end of an evening of beer and wit, we left The Wynkoop, and were heading along Wynkoop Street when Darrin spotted Mr B., playing guitar in Trios - Enoteca.

After all that Wynkoop stout, ordering large glasses of red wine seemed like a good idea. So did sitting in jeans and t-shirts, amongst all the well-dressed yuppie couples watching David Booker sing his bluesy heart out.

We ended up being joined at our table by David, between songs. He knew Darrin from the station, and got on well with me, being a fellow ex-pat Briton.

Back on stage, he announced to the assembled yuppies, "We have two top-flight DJ's from KUVO with us tonight", and I vaguely remember heckling something along the lines of, "You mean there's four of us from jazz89 here?" á la Mark&Lard humour.

He then dedicated the next song to us, "This is dedicated to Darrin and Max. It's called 'Blow Me'". Which was a very funny blues number, the lyrics of which will never see the light of day on-air. Due to the humour of it, and the beer in my bloodstream, I believe my guffawing laughter nearly drowned out his guitar.

We left the bar sometime later, without paying for our drinks. Well, that is, neither Darrin nor I paid, and much as we looked for staff to give our money to, they seemed uninterested, so being two radio-paupers we left quietly.

Back in the Present Day
Cut to, yesterday's show. David calls, and tells me he's playing at The Mercury Café, downtown, and would I like to come along as his guest. He mentions something about a party for some guy called Ronnie.

So, after dinner in The Wynkoop, I sought out the café, and found the upstairs ballroom where David and his band were playing.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you were stood in a crowded public area, without your trousers on? It was a bit like that.

Everyone (but me) was dressed in 1950's clothing/styles.

Those of you who know me, will know that there's only one thing to do in a crisis like this. That's right, I leapt super-hero-like, to the bar, and ordered beer. By an amazing stroke of super-beero, err.. hero, luck, they were serving the same Railyard Ale, that I had just been supping in The Wynkoop. The only problem with that beer (a red ale) is that it's too easy to drink (i.e. it almost seems to evaporate from the glass, it's gone that quickly).

I popped over to the stage and said hi to David, and met his wife, who later sang with the band.

I found some seating, out of the way, and listened to the band, as they played their bluesy/rock best, and people danced. My companion for the evening had just commented that "This is looking a lot like a private family and friends party, I hope no-one asks who the hell we are.", when the couple in front of us, passed back a notebook which all the guests were signing. I signed myself as the official jazz89 representative, and passed the book on to the next table.

The couple in front then leaned back and asked if we knew the name of Ronnie's girlfriend.

If I'd had my wits about me, I'd have probably, confidently replied, "Tammy". However, I was full of Railyard Ale, so I laughed heartily, and said something along the lines of, "No! We're friends of the band! And in fact, I only met David Booker a week ago, but he called me during my radio show today, so I thought, why not go along". Thankfully, this amused them, and were weren't cast out of the café.

Just as we'd had this conversation, the party photographer (who looked like she might be a relative of Ronnie's) arrived and took our picture. I also, due to my leaning forward to say something to the couple we'd been talking to, got my face in the couple in front's picture as well. So no doubt, Ronnie et al will assume that we were with them.

I then speculated that when the pictures come back, there'll be a reaction along the lines of, "Who the hell is this blond guy with the drunken grin?".

All in all a lovely evening, if only for getting to pretend to be be a legitimate member of the media. We never did actually meet the infamous Ronnie, although we worked out who it was, and he had a Kenny G kind of haircut, so that, plus not actually knowing him, lead me to feel we shouldn't intrude. At least, not any further.

OK. Well, that's another radio epic out of the way.

I went in. I rocked da haus. I got out. Nobody got hurt.

Not even the git who rang up the to call me a Limey. Although as soon as I've traced the call, he may be gettting a visit from Dr Marten (my shoes of choice).

Actually, when he'd finished being xenophobic, he said he really liked my show, but but that doesn't excuse the bigotry!

It all went just fine. Now if only someone would like to pay me to do this for a living...

Oh well. I've had requests from readers to publish my playlists. I shalln't do this for every show, but here is today's.

There's been a lot going on lately, that has meant I've not been in the mood to write much this week. Sorry, but that's how it goes sometimes.

One bit of news worth noting, is that I'm doing another radio show, tomorrow between 3pm and 5pm. It's the same Saturday afternoon slot, in which I did my first ever solo radio show.

So it'll be interesting (probably only for me) to see the difference between me doing this show tomorrow, and the first time I did it.

It'll be the usual mix of upbeat jazz, latin jazz and blues, plus my irrepressible wit.

Well, OK. Maybe on-air, my wit is less obvious, because I'm focusing on not screwing up, but you get the idea.

NOTE: The following article is based on barely informed opinion, and contains little or no fact, beyond the news articles linked. If you're a large fast-food corporation, don't even bother reaching for your corporate lawyers, as a) It's just my opinion, as I just stated, and b) I have no money.

I'm not a customer of McDonalds. I'm not a customer of Burger King. I stopped going to either establishment, because I decided I liked my burgers to taste of, and in fact contain, real meat, and not be pre-cooked at a warehouse, and then microwaved at each branch.

That said, apparently McDonalds themselves are cottoning on to the fact that if they keep serving nothing but fat-laden junk food, they're going to continue getting sued by these assholes who are too dumb to make the connection between cramming four Big Macs down their gullets every day, in place of a meal, and the onset of diabetes and obesity.

Too dumb that is, until some opportunistic lawyer, having been tipped of by the chubster's cardiologist, points out the opportunity for them to make some fast money, if only to cover the cardiovascular work needed.

Of course McDonalds will claim it's for the good of the nation's health, but we can be fairly certain it's all about not getting sued by the ailing burgerholics, whilst simultaneously trying to lure in, those of us who eat things like vegetables (and no, fries don't count as a vegetable portion. Neither does macaroni, as I've heard some people (guess from which country ;-) ) think.).

So, McD's are planning on introducing a "healthier" menu.

This will include a "premium hamburger" - made with "more wholesome meat". Now there's an admission of less-than-lovely previous product. More news here.

So. What's next on the menu? The McTofu Burger? Ronald McDonald steamed vegetables? McNut McCutlets?

Or perhaps they'll just fess up and suggest we eat the cardboard packaging for less fat and more fibre?

...Chicago is. (OK, so that was a bit lame).

So, this afternoon, I saw the oscar-winning film Chicago.

Let's get a few things straight before we go on:

• I don't like musicals
• I don't like show-tunes
• I don't like Catherine Zeta-Jones
• I don't see films just because they or their cast won Oscars

but

• I do fancy Renée Zellweger
• I do like the 1920's styles

You can read the plot via the link I've provided. It's a beautifully filmed piece, with a great wardrobe, great cinematography, direction and sound.

But it was the performances that impressed even a hardened cynic like myself.

Renée, apart from looking delightful, gave one of her best performances ever, and got to play someone who was quite a sharp cookie, and not the usual dumb blonde roles she seems to get stuck in. More impressive than her acting, was her singing and dancing. The girl can actually sing! She can also move! According to reports, she'd never sung or danced in public before, and spent 10 months working on it prior to filming.

Women seem to hate her. Various women I know say that she irritates them. And yes, the squinty eyes and puffy cheeks thing is odd, but all the same, she's a cutie.

I could say similar things about Hugh Grant being irritating, but he's a cutie (so I'm told by the same women who diss Renée), and so all is forgiven.

Catherine was superbly cast, looked great, and moved like you can't believe. Apparently Renée took a lot of advice from her on the dance elements of her performance. The "Louise Brooks" bob haircut was very cute, real sharp, and fitted the character perfectly. Her Oscar was well-deserved.

I can't easily explain what I don't like about her. I've known of her since her first appearances on British TV, and I disliked her immensely even then. She seems to have an air of smugness about her, that clouds any inherent beauty she may possess. She also, particularly early on, had that air of a little girl who'd spent her whole life being groomed for, and pushed towards, the nearest stage, by an over-bearing mother. Kind of like Bonnie Langford, only less squeaky.

Richard Gere was even more impressive, if only because I'd never (in a million years) have thought that he could either sing or dance. He can. I think this is the most impressed I've ever been with him. I didn't rate him very much before seeing Chicago. Remember that wooden performance of his in Pretty Woman?

Queen Latifa, playing prison matron "Mama" Morton was the biggest surprise. She lit up the screen whenever she was on. The 1920's hairstyle really suited her, and she reinforced the idea that you don't have to be a stick insect to be beautiful.

Her acting was great, but her singing, especially her solo, was just fantastic. Filmed, as with most of the musical numbers in the film, half in the story's reality, and half in an imagined stage performance. I could see her going on to play jazz singers such as Billie Holiday or Big Mama Thornton. It's hard to believe, having heard her performance in this film, that she used to be a rapper.

The remaining cast were OK, nothing to write home about though.

Like I said at the beginning, I don't like musicals. In fact, I hate them. I also don't gush over movies just because they've won an Oscar. In fact, if anything, I tend to be harder on Oscar-winning movies, just because I fear they may have been over-hyped.

Chicago, however, seems to be an exception on all counts. Looking at the trailer for it, you could be forgiven for branding it a "chick flick", but somehow, it's appealing to a much larger demographic.

And before you ask, I went to see if of my own volition, I wasn't dragged there. I went in with my eyes open, just like Renée ;-)

Having finally found my wallet (MIA for three days now), I had a cheap-n-cheerful brunch at Zaidy's Deli. Whilst there, I was introduced to the son of the owner, who gave me the name of his agent.

"Wha?!", I hear you say. "Agent? Surely you're not thinking of expanding your burgeoning media career onto the silver screen?". Well, no. At least not unless Renée Zellweger insists that she needs me and no other, as her leading man.

No, the agent is for voice-over work. My broadcasting experience now puts me in a good position to prostitute my dulcet English tones in exchange for cold hard cash. God (or whoever) knows I need the money right now.

Given that I've been told that my English accent sets some women (and possibly men) all of a quivver, I'm hoping that it'll work well hawking whatever products need the European sophistication that I can exude without even trying.

I didn't have time to ring the agent today (I'll post about my afternoon, later), but I'll be ringing her, and another agency I've spotted in Denver, first thing on Monday.

Of course the beauty of this kind of work, is that even in the unlikely event of me getting an actual regular job, I can still do this work in my spare time.

British military vehicles are to be fitted with devices to combat friendly fire incidents.

No word as yet whether American forces will get the same system, or even know to look out for vehicles using it before destroying anything that doesn't have a US flag painted on the side.

I hope they do, as in every recent conflict, American forces have ended up killing British troops.

Even the dubious Fox News reports it (although the story was buried deep, and took a bit of finding):

"Five suspected incidents of "friendly fire" deaths ? involving attacks by U.S. and British troops ? have accounted for as many British fatalities as enemy action in Iraq. "

Funnily enough, I've found no reports of British troops killing US ones. It must be that famous 'British restraint' we hear about.

I forgot to mention. I'm going to be presenting Mid-morning Jazz, later this morning, at 9am-12pm MST. (1-4pm BST).

This is my friend Susan's show, and the show where I learnt the delicate art of radio broadcasting (or not as the case may be), however, I've never presented it myself.

So it's kind of a bit of a 'homecoming' show - where I'm taking over the show (albeit for one day only) that I trained on.

Tune in, why don't ya! 89.3FM in Denver or on the web at http://www.kuvo.org

I know that people running Windows XP have had problems using the streaming signal, but it can be done, as follows:

1. Launch the Abacast program
2. In the "Abaserv Address" box, type or cut-n-paste "kuvo.abacast.com:80/kuvo" (without the quotes)
3. Launch Internet Explorer
4. Go to http://www.kuvo.org
5. Click on "Tune in now"

It *should* then work. If it doesn't try hitting STOP, then PLAY on the webpage with the Windows Media Player in it (a second page that pops up when you hit Tune In Now).

I can get it to work that way. I think they've not tested Abacast with Windows XP, whereas a friend running Windows 2000 doesn't have this problem, and it 'just works', as it also does on Mac OS X.

Last night, after a first-rate night out drinking beer, I came home and watched TV.

A "commercial" came on, soon followed by another "commercial" in the next ad-break, both of which annoyed me. I grabbed my iBook and blasted out my feelings, but didn't post them.

I re-read this morning. At first I still agreed with it, but after a second mug of tea decided that writing things like, "yes, this is unresearched, but it's my site, so bite me", about such a controversial issue as abortion, might not make me come across as my usual witty and urbane self.

Beer will do that to you.

No, the piece needs re-focusing, as did my eyes last night.

People being pro-life or pro-choice isn't what was pissing me off about these 'commercials'.

No, what annoys me, is people trivialising such an important and emotive issue by thinking you can cover it in a 30-second TV commercial.

But last night's pro-lifers aren't the only people guilty of this. The list of offenders starts thus:

• Pro-lifers
• Pro-choicers
• The Mormon Church ( with their series of "solve all life's woes by reading the Book of Mormon" commericals).
• Weight-loss pill pushers

I'm sure there are other parties/causes guilty of this. Any additions to the list?

So, today we have a etiquette question.

How do you politely explain to a Golden Retriever, that much as you love him, and much as you don't mind him sleeping on the bed next to you every night (as long as you don't have anyone else there), you really really wish he'd stop farting?

I mean, he's an otherwise excellent co-habitee of the bed. He doesn't toss and turn, he doesn't snore, and he doesn't talk in his sleep.

Last night, however, he positioned himself, lying arsewards towards my head, fell asleep and then commenced the sort of biological attack, that could justify our President Roscoe P. Coltrane, sending the troops in.

I mean, it was like the Elephant House at the zoo in here. I was expecting some guy to burst in with a mop, bucket and zookeeper's hat, at any moment, and start doling out current buns.

As I write, he's fallen asleep again, next to me. The dog, not the zookeeper.

Perhaps I should have listened to the government's Senior Panicmonger - John Ashcroft - and bought some duct tape?

Then again, I'm not sure sealing a gaseous Golden Retriever would necessarily be a sensible thing to do. I mean, what if the pressure builds up and and he blows?

It'd be a weapon of mass dogstruction.