Relocating Across Town (well, across The Atlantic)

For the hundreds of you who have been on the edge of your keyboards wondering where on earth I was, I'm sorry, I should have posted a few weeks back. The long and short (I don't understand that phrase, surely one or the other?) - I'm back in London town! The move is complete. Obviously that poses problems for someone who posts as a New York blogger.

I think once I've settled back into the swing of things here I'll probably kick off a whole new site. I'm not sure what it'll be about but rest assured I'll let you know where it is (there will be a link from here too). In the meantime, let me wrap this chapter of my life up by saying how much NY is going to be missed. It was colourful and vibrant, it sizzled with energy 24/7. Keep up or get out. Sure, it's in your face but when you boast that you're the world's capital then you can only get away with that kind of statement by being bold and confident enough to truly believe it, no one's doubting that New York is just that. Our planet would be a dull place without this cocky arrogant bruiser strutting around in the playground. I'm just chuffed I got to go a few rounds with it.

See you soon! And thanks for reading...

Which island are you on?

I'll tell you which one. It's somewhere grey and damp, where summer has not been seen in twelve months, where the mere mention of "pants" and "fanny" brings a snigger. Yup, I'm home! I'm back for a few weeks but let's hope it's nothing permanent. In the meantime, as I sit Brit-side, allow me to stray from the parameters of this blog a little otherwise there aren't going to be any updates.

This week I got caught up in one of the most painful exercises I've ever had the pleasure of being obsessed with. For our international friends, there is a weekly radio show broadcast in the UK called 'Desert Island Discs'. People from all corners of politics, the arts, sport - anywhere with corners basically - are invited to BBC Radio 4 and for 45min their disbelief is suspended from the ceiling as they are placed on a desert island. With the current lack of summer in this country it's a welcome exhile. On that island they are allowed to take any 8 pieces of music, a luxury item (inanimate and with no survival benefit), and one book (not the Bible or Shakespeare's Complete Works, they are already provided - a Gideons Bible I'm guessing). You can see how this is an interesting angle to take for an insightful interview and since the show's been running continuously since 1942 I guess it's been a winning formula for listeners and participants alike.

So I happened to be talking with a friend about this and it's not something I had really thought about in the past. Knowing how difficult it had been for me to come up with my favourite 5 movies back in the day when one beds down these things, I knew frustration, torment and many late nights were an imminent prospect as soon as I was asked for my 8 songs. How little I knew...

16 hours, 4900 songs, 4 ever-narrowing playlists, and 12 revisions later I think I've just done it. And since these things are down to personal tastes it's not as if you can pass judgement on them, but I thought I would share anyway. So here they are. Feel free to contribute your own in the comments section after...

• Here Comes The Sun - The Beatles


• Half A World Away - REM


• Just Like Heaven - The Cure


• Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley


• Beast Of Burden - The Rolling Stones


• One Of These Things First - Nick Drake


• Our Mutual Friend - The Divine Comedy


• Good Man - Josh Ritter

This post is brought to you in association with...

It wasn't too long ago that rumours had Coca Cola planning to advertise on the moon. Today I think the company of choice for the lunar marketing theorists is Google. They can probably afford it and I imagine that they've got the relevant maps to ensure that the pieces of the advert all go in the correct positions. It would certainly make for an interesting few evenings as the moon waxes and wanes; we would get to see "ogle" after a week and then "Goo" a couple of weeks after that. Ah, the inherent humour in celestial advertising.

These rumours aside, it's no surprise that you get the impression that they're running out of original places to advertise down here. You can't walk a hundred yards without the sun being eclipsed by a billboard or a Foxtons Mini running you down (yes, they have them here too). Just last month a squadron of planes (sponsored by Geico) flew round and round the island skytyping adverts into the blue in what can only be called a "cloud font".

I don't appear to be able to go through a website at the moment without a voice congratulating me on 'winning' a new iPhone. Incidentally, if anyone wants one I've won, like, 40 so far. Google and Yahoo! are just two companies that intelligently track the sites you visit and products you view in order to provide targeted advertising relevant to your tastes. Shocked? I can almost hear George Orwell applauding in his grave.

And there's no escape at home. A "half-hour" TV show is actually only 22 minutes in duration in order that we get 8 minutes of commercial conditioning. Even the closed captioning (subtitles) are "brought to you by...". What's next? Seeing-eye dogs being enticed into stores with wafts of chopped liver? [copyright ummit sethi, 2007]

I know all of this is a part of everyday life now, particularly in a big city. So it's all the more reason that when I want 'to get away from it all' for an afternoon I should be allowed to do just that. What better place than the beach? It's a regular favourite with the locals and hardly surprising since New York is close to some remarkably beautiful stretches of coastline out on Long Island and across in New Jersey. Protected dunes, conservation areas, beautiful small seaside villages, not an advert in site.

11.00 - arrive beach
11.10 - lie on beach
11.12 - propeller plane flies over beach pulling advert for Coors Lite Beer.
11.14 - 3 propeller planes fly over advertising Die Hard 4. Fortunately the famous tagline, "Yippee ki yay motherf---" appears to have been printed on a banner that was 5 letters too short for the job.
11.16 - propeller plane flies over pulling advert for breast enhancement surgery...I kid you not. Want a perfect rack? Call Dr Rac-anelli.

...and on it went. By 6pm I was so brainwashed that I was sitting in a cinema drinking cans of lager while adjusting the bra on my new set of D-cups.