Recursive Words

Table 29

May 30, 2026

The clock in the corner of my laptop screen just ticked past 10am. You find me sitting at table 29 in Wetherspoons, having just made a “Small American” disappear.

Of course I didn’t make an actual “small American” disappear – no transatlantic travellers were harmed – I did however have a plate containing some pancakes, an egg, some hash brown, and a sausage delivered to my table, and then ate it. I somehow don’t think they have anything like our pork sausages in America (not outside of an ex-pat cafe at least), or that a sausage might be part of any American breakfast.

The last time I visited America was nearly twenty five years ago – back when my cousin and uncle lived near Larkspur, on the north side of the San Francisco Bay. I remember one morning my Uncle took us to experience “IHOP” – the “International House of Pancakes”. I’m not sure if the chain still exists, but rest assured, we have nothing like it in the UK.

My main memory of IHOP – apart from the towering stack of pancakes that arrived at our table – was a burly, bearded man wearing office attire at the next table reading the Harry Potter book that had come out the day before (probably “Order of the Phoenix”). He was sitting with the hardback book propped the other side of his breakfast – avidly reading it.

I miss books being that popular – when you would see people carrying them on trains, planes, and in restaurants, bars and cafes. I remember the scandal over here when parents of teenage girls discovered their daughter’s obsession over the Twilight books was mostly because they were filled with all manner of “coming of age” sexual angst.

I remember a post going viral in the early days of social media – on Tumblr I think;

Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity. Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend

The quote got re-blogged, re-purposed, and mis-attributed to Stephen King along the way – which caused it to grow legs as you might imagine – because people wanted it to be true.

People “wanting” things to be true provides a convenient segway into a conversation I had with my other half about the upcoming Spielberg movie “Disclosure Day”. The final trailer hit the internet a few days ago – and is more featurette than trailer – with a faux interview with Steven interspersed – reflecting on his evolving relationship with the source material over the years – between making “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, and “Disclosure Day”.

I used to say to myself, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all of this turned out to be true?’ I’m now thinking, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful for people to know all of this is true?’

The monologue happens as a rolling camera shot slowly reveals the head of a classic gray alien.

You can imagine the reaction in the conspiracy theory crowd. The alien is real. The movie is showing real footage. He’s working for the government.

Like I said – people want things they believe to be true – often regardless of all the evidence that surrounds them. I guess we end up circling back to conversation between David Duchovny’s “Fox Mulder” and the government “Deep Throat” character:

DEEP THROAT: Mr. Mulder, why are those like yourself, who believe in the existence of extra terrestrial life on this earth, not dissuaded by all the evidence to the contrary?
MULDER: Because, all the evidence to the contrary, is not entirely dissuasive.
DEEP THROAT: Precisely.

(He walks away, and the titles roll)

It’s not just little grey men – it’s politics, religion, sport – just about everything really. Too many people seem to want validation of their opinions, rather than to confront their own predispositions or prejudices and learn.

Anyway. How did this turn into a rant? Also – how has it been a week since I posted again. I need to get better at this head emptying business. I used to be good at polluting the internet with content it really didn’t need. I need to get back to it – if for no other reason than to fill Facebook with the type of content I would like to see, rather than the dumpster fire it has become.

I have been binge-watching “The Buroughs” on Netflix. It’s pretty good – a re-tread of Stranger Things with retirees instead of teens.

Also started watching “Star City” on Apple TV – the re-tread of “For All Mankind” from the soviet perspective.

Perhaps this is the “new thing” – instead of doing straight-forward re-makes, movies and TV series have begin re-treading from a different perspective. I wonder what might be next? Star Wars from the point of view of a contractor helping build the Death Star? Oh wait – Clerks already mapped that script out.

Anyway (for a second time) – time to go.
Spoons, Breakfast, Transatlantic Adventures, and Origin Stories

May 24, 2026

I woke at some ridiculous time this morning, squinted at the bedside clock, then collapsed back into a dream I can’t remember until nearly 9am – almost unheard of recently. After a while waiting for my head to boot up, some unseen force pulled me out of bed, and downstairs for a shower – meeting the cats along the way – patiently waiting / demanding to be fed. It never ceases to amaze me that the cats show me exactly where their food is kept every morning, but get in my way en-route – preventing me from getting where they want me to be going.

After feeding the cats – which is obviously the top priority, to prevent them breaking my neck (again, another logic failure – if they break my neck by getting under my feet, how are they going to get fed?) – I had a shower, de-cave-manned myself with a razor, pulled on yesterday’s shirt, picked up my phone, wallet and keys, and left the house.

While walking towards town the sun tried to cook me alive. Not even joking. Having spent the last however many months holed up in the junk room all day, every day, you might say I’m lacking quite a lot of vitamin D.

It’s now heading towards 10am and you find me sitting at a table in the middle of Wetherspoons in town, having just made a small English breakfast disappear. A second coffee is now perched next to the MacBook while servers march back and forth delivering food to tables, and clearing people’s destruction on their return to the endless stream of food leaving the kitchens.

I think I read somewhere that this pub has something like three hundred covers. Sixty staff, rotating – with as many as fifteen on at once during the busiest times. I stay the hell away on Friday and Saturday nights. My middle daughter works here – she was here until close last night – I have yet to hear how the pitched battle went.

I’m really here to decompress a bit. Being largely anonymous among strangers is kind of nice sometimes. Nobody wants anything from you. There’s nothing that needs doing nearby.

Next month I’ll be largely anonymous for an entire weekend – the visit to America is actually happening – for the Flight Simulation Expo in St Paul, Minnesota. After approving the time off with work my other half helped me book the expo tickets, flights, hotel, get ESTA clearance, travel insurance, and join the “Flight Simulation Association” – paying in one direction to save money in others.

The trip is knocking a hole in my finances the size of Jupiter, but I’m reliably informed by the same other half that used to be a chartered accountant, and now “does my books” that this will help my tax bill enormously.

It’s going to be a fun weekend. I doubt my feet will touch the ground throughout the weekend – there are all manner of gatherings happening – networking events – alongside and around the show. I’m also in communication with several of the exhibitors – to help them out if I’m nearby during their classes and presentations.

I was talking to my other half about it – I suppose I’m a bit of a unicorn in many ways – although not a qualified real-world pilot, I know most popular general aviation, commercial, and military aircraft inside-out – everything from flying a Cessna around the back-woods of the US, to operating an A320 in and out of the major European hubs, to taking an SR-71 up to the edge of the stratosphere.

Who knew the SR-71 “Blackbird” – the top-trump in so many people’s childhoods – would be so little fun in reality? An aircraft designed to operate in such a narrow window that flying it is more akin to threading a needle for several hours – while it actively tries to cook you, or rip itself apart.

I grew up near an air force base – and remember leafing endlessly through a huge red aircraft encyclopaedia during my childhood. I still have it – my parents gave me it while visiting with the children years ago. It’s now threadbare, and falling to pieces – but more or less marks the beginning of my story. I’ve never quite been able to part with it – I probably never will.

The funny thing about the whole “flight simulation” thing – it all kind of happened by accident. Yes, I’ve always been interested in aviation – and I’ve messed around with flight simulators in the past – but the whole “content creator” thing was a huge accident. I’m not sure I’ve ever told the story here.

About six years ago I inherited a computer from my Dad. My parents were coming to visit, and brought my Dad’s old computer with them. Given that my computer at the time was on it’s last legs – I affectionately referred to it as “Trigger’s Broom” (a reference to a sitcom in the UK called “Only Fools and Horses” – go look it up) – having a computer that could run games was something of a novelty.

Within weeks I had installed a flight simulator and joined my Dad online with his friends. Since retiring he had somehow got involved with a group online that “flew” the virtual skies a couple of times each week – with one or more of them nominated as “Air Traffic Services” – so they could not only simulate flying, but also the chatter back and forth with controllers. It was all a bit above my head.

This all coincided with a simulator called “X-Plane” becoming popular, and a very accurate replica of the Boeing 737 becoming available for it. I spent weeks learning how to get it into the air in a somewhat appropriate manner, and ended up recording a short video to help walk my Dad’s friends through it – and shared it on YouTube – mostly because it was free.

Although filled with mistakes – you don’t know what you don’t know – the video picked up quite a lot of views, and got the attention of several commercial pilots, who reached out and helped me improve. That’s always been the part of this whole story that has continually surprised me – the willingness of professional pilots to nurture and develop everybody around them. It’s hugely inspiring.

One video led to another, and another, and another – each better than the last. The videos then led to written instructions – PDFs with cliff notes to get a Jumbo Jet from “cold and dark” to “in the air” in a somewhat correct manner.

And then YouTube monetised the account. When you reach a certain number of subscribers, you can earn some of the ad revenue. I forget exactly what the numbers are. To begin with my other half was amused at my little hobby. When the trickle of money started to turn into a torrent, and when the time spent feeding the emerging monster started to eat every evening and weekend though, she started to realise I was getting myself into a fair amount of trouble and needed help – if for no other reason than the tax man turning up.

Thankfully – as I already mentioned – she used to be a chartered accountant. Within days she sorted everything out, and essentially became an employee – a side hustle for her too.

By this time I had written quite a number of the “cliff notes” guides to aircraft. While going over the numbers one weekend, she asked me why I wasn’t charging for them. I argued that I didn’t think they were worth anything. She then looked at the hours I spent working on them, and said I should really think about it. She was right. When people started buying them, I almost fell off my chair.

Along the way – while chipping away at learning this aircraft, or the other aircraft, or pretending to fly here, there, or wherever – several friends have become aware of my hobby/side hustle and wondered if they might do something similar with their own interests. They are always somewhat surprised when I tell them to be careful what they wish for.

Doing something for fun is one thing. Doing that thing to make money is another thing entirely – IF you’re doing it to make money. I’ve never been driven by money – so have escaped what could easily become a slippery slope. That I have a hobby that essentially pays for itself (and then some) has been a huge surprise.

I’ve learned the old saying about “everything in moderation”.

I work with computers all day, every day. Code I have written is embedded in huge corporations and governments all over the place. I quite often pretend to fly aeroplanes on evenings and weekends and share my imagined adventures on YouTube. I also write (this blog), read books, listen to music, watch TV, go to the cinema, do chores, cook, cut the lawn, put the rubbish out, and a hundred other things. I should really go running too – that one keeps falling through the gaps.

I used to also mess around with the social internet – Facebook, Instagram, and so on – they seem to have collapsed in on themselves in recent times though. I was just talking to a friend recently about the demise of Facebook. Who could have guessed that the mighty Facebook would become such a shadow of its former self?

Anyway.

I just realised I’ve been sitting here emptying my head for over an hour. I should really go get on with my day. Places to be. Things to do. Pretend aeroplanes to fly 🙂
A night away

May 19, 2026

The clock is ticking towards 8am, and you find me holed up in my hotel room, sipping espresso from a tiny cup, watching the clock until I need to be back among my co-workers once again.

We’re staying at the “De Vere Wokefield Estate”, just outside Reading, Berkshire. I imagine it’s one of the few places that could easily accommodate over 200 people at once. I dread to think how much it’s costing in lost revenue to bring us all together.

Obviously I can’t tell you exactly what has been on the agenda – but it’s been super interesting so far.

I do wonder if the hotel staff are shaking their head at the amount of coffee techies can consume in day. I also feel a bit sorry for the coffee machines.

The chance to spend time with co-workers last night was wonderful – having a drink together, and finding out a little more about each other. I will freely admit to being a lightweight – a couple of drinks in the bar at the start of the evening saw me through.

There was a sigh of relief when the Mario Kart tournament didn’t happen. A Nintendo Switch was wired up, but a small number of football fans wanted to watch the Arsenal game – and in doing so reminded me why football has *such* a bad reputation, and why our kids played rugby instead. The explosive, aggressive shouting and swearing aimed at the TV really wasn’t needed.

The hotel room is lovely. I somehow lucked into a double room – so have room to spread out – not that I have anything of consequence with me. I did find myself smiling while checking out the bathroom; it’s almost identical to our new bathroom at home – and of course was filled with complimentary wash kit. I always suspect if I don’t bring my own, there won’t be any provided – sods law, and all that.

Breakfast this morning was typical of just about every hotel I’ve ever stayed in – with coffee from machines, and a selection of heated trays filled with sausages, scrambled egg, baked beans, bacon, mushrooms, and all manner of cereals, pastries and fruit juices.

Anyway.

Time is marching on.

I should really post this, pack my meagre belongings, and wander back I suppose. Oh – one last thing – I have requested the time off for the Minneapolis trip.
Work conferences and transatlantic trips

May 17, 2026

One of my work colleagues will arrive early tomorrow morning for a coffee before an Uber arrives to spirit both of us away to a country estate with the greater part of the company workforce to take part in a two day internal tech conference.

Last year I presented during one of the sessions – this year I’m off the hook, and will be able to sit back, absorb, and enjoy.

I haven’t practiced Mario Kart, so have no idea how the evening tournament I’ve been roped into will go. I imagine some of our number will take it far too seriously. I did consider packing a chess set, but quite like my chess set and don’t want the pieces to go missing.

We’ll see.

While at the conference I want to get provisional approval for some time off next month. There’s a flight simulation expo happening in the US – and I’ve been asked if I’m going – both by attendees, and stall holders. I’m thinking about it.

If I go, it will be ever so slightly crazy – flying out on the Thursday, attending the show from Friday through Sunday, then flying home on Monday. The jet lag will be hilarious. One of the companies at the show is already talking about potentially getting me on-stage for a panel.

The show is in Minneapolis. I just asked a friend in the US what Minneapolis is famous for, and she replied with a giant picture of Prince.

While debating the cost of the trip with my other half, she commented that the entire thing can be offset against tax – which will chop an enormous percentage off the real cost of the trip.

I guess there’s also the conflict with Iran to consider – and the indirect effect on flights. After doing a little reading, the likelihood of transatlantic flights being disrupted is apparently very low.

I need to get approval for the time off first anyway. There’s no point getting ahead of myself.

Anyway.

It’s getting late.

I have an early start in the morning. Time to go brush my teeth, and collapse into bed.
Olives, Spanakopita and Sake

May 16, 2026

When I wrote blog posts, I tend to write them as markdown formatted text posts – telling myself that if I remove all distractions I’m far more likely to get on with writing something rather than open this app, or start that music, or scroll that website, or whatever else it might be.

For the past little while I’ve been using iAWriter – where you can just start writing, and it names the file after the first line. On Thursday night I started this blog post, and titled it appropriately for the date, just like the rest of the six thousand blog posts over the last twenty-something years (because I’m a bit OCD like that). I didn’t actually get around to writing anything – so ended up re-opening the writing app yesterday, re-titling the post, pondering what I might write about, and didn’t actually write anything again.

Third time lucky today – and here I am, writing about writing – which I know nobody wants to read. It’s almost like I’m testing you – giving you exactly what you don’t want – just to see if you’ll stick around.

You’re still reading though, right?

It’s Saturday afternoon. Almost evening. Is 5pm late afternoon or early evening? Have I just started a huge argument?

My biggest achievement today was almost certainly adding the local market to Google Calendar. This might not sound like much, but after several years of the kids asking which weekend which market was on (they alternate), it only just occurred to me to do this. Only I didn’t do it – because the way of the world these days is to get AI to do anything and everything for you. While the rest of the family talked about this and that while walking towards the market, I busied myself talking with Google Gemini – asking if it knew about our local markets (it did), and if it could add them to our family Google Calendar (it could).

I was quietly pleased with myself, but didn’t tell anybody – because sharing my small victory would almost certainly have been met with derision and laughter.

It’s the little things sometimes.

So. We made it to the market in town. An open air market filled with artisan food stalls. We somehow bought enough bread, olives, vine leaves, and spanakopita to feed the entire family for the next week.

Along the way we met a charming Greek gentleman hovering near the stall where the spanakopita took pride of place – obviously missing home, and quizzing shoppers on pronunciation of the various goods on display. My other half passed with flying colours – she’s good like that.

While walking back through town we passed the local wine seller – and knowing that we have nothing in the house (not uncommon), I enquired if we should perhaps see if they had any offers on. Quite apart from being obviously aware that a “50% discount” means a “200% markup”, I came home with not only wine, but also sake. My eldest daughter visited Japan a few months ago – and I’m a soft touch with my daughters.

We tried out a sip or three earlier. I might have another sip later.

Do you ever shy away from drink, because you don’t want to waste the time that will be eaten up by its effects? I’m getting worse and worse for it. I will often avoid alcohol altogether and just stick to coffee. While out with work colleagues this week I did discover that “Guinness Zero” is remarkably good. We all tried it – knowing we had to work the next day – and were all amazed.

Anyway.

Here we are.

I’m more than aware that I’ve let the blog slide again this week. I’m also aware that I don’t have a lot to share.

I’m away on Monday night with a work function – holed up in a hotel for the night. Apparently I’ve been roped into a Mario Kart tournament during the evening with co-workers. I need to borrow the cartridge from my middle daughter – my Mario skills date from the NES and SNES era. I have a Nintendo Switch – sitting on the self – but rarely switch it on. All I remember from playing Mario Kart with friends years ago is you don’t want to be in the lead until the last corner of the last lap.

It will be good to spend a couple of days kicking back. It’s been relentless this year so far. Last year too.

Right. Where’s that bottle of sake?
Caverns measureless to man

May 11, 2026

I’m beginning to wonder if the entire point of falling down rabbit holes is to discover further rabbit holes.

While deliberating about resurrecting the WordPress incarnation of my blog, I questioned the mighty Google Gemini – that has read the entire internet, and therefore knows everything – about the relative strengths and weaknesses of the leading online publishing platforms. I of course did this after resurrecting the blog – in a ridiculous search for validation.

What I didn’t count on was the insistence that neither Substack or WordPress were the best option.

Google’s AI monster was insistent that Medium had become by far the best option to publish anything on the internet now. No matter how many “but what about” questions I hurled at it, it was insistent – and sort of made sense.

And that’s why my blog has now grown another hydra-like head – at Medium.

I’m nothing if not consistently deranged.

Until several years ago – when John Green ruined it for me – the strapline on my blog read “It’s turtles all the way down”.

In my case, I was referring to (I think) a Bertram Russell lecture about the nature of our existence in the universe. An old lady in the audience told Russell that he had it all wrong – that (as any Discworld reader knows) the earth was actually a flat disc balanced on the back of four elephants, who in turn were standing on the back of a giant turtle.

Russel challenged the lady – “what’s beneath the turtle?” – to which she replied “very clever sonny – it’s turtles, all the way down”.

I can’t help feeling that the infinite turtle Jenga stack quite neatly describes my various self-publishing escapades on the internet.

In response to re-imaging an existence at WordPress yesterday, a good friend remarked – quite rightly – that I was hard work – but that she would try to follow wherever I went. I don’t think she quite understood the level of idiocy I was operating at – that I wasn’t moving – I was going to be in both places at the same time.

I suppose it’s three places at the same time now – WordPress, Substack, and Medium.

Perhaps I should rename the blog “Cerberus”.

I’ve always thought Hagrid’s three headed dog in the first Harry Potter book should had been called Cerberus instead of Fluffy – Cerberus was the many headed dog in Greek mythology that guarded the underworld, in case you’re wondering.

Anyway. It’s getting late.

I really don’t mind where you read what I write. That you’re reading my words at all is kind of lovely and wonderful.
Here, there, and everywhere

May 10, 2026

After a ridiculously late night – or rather early morning – binge-watching “For All Mankind”, and then baby-sitting the youngest member of our household for an hour, I somehow scraped myself back out of bed a little after 8am this morning.

After a shower and a shave I briefly entertained thoughts of wandering into town for breakfast – but then remembered bacon in the fridge, and a sour dough load in the bread bin. It came as no surprise that the smell of bacon conjured two of my daughters to the kitchen.

The rest of the morning was spent falling down and entirely predictable rabbit hole.

A friend on the other side of the world sent me a message overnight, in response to encouraging her to take a look at Substack (her blog is at WordPress). It got me thinking – always a dangerous thing – and within an hour or so the WordPress incarnation of “Recursive Words” had resurrected itself once more.

I’m telling myself that it’s a good idea – that Substack is yet another walled garden – that I should really have a “proper” place for my journal anyway, even if I love scrolling the wall at Substack. We’ll see, I suppose. I’m just wary about spreading myself too thin. I suppose I’m also aware that lots of people (that don’t use Substack) don’t like Substack – because of it’s increasingly invasive nature.

Maybe having the most basic version of my journal possible sitting out on the web is a good idea. I hesitate to call it a “blog” any more, because the word has been stolen by influencers and marketers. When I started emptying my head – twenty-odd years ago – all blogs were diaries – journals. Machine generated advertorial nonsense hadn’t been invented.

As you might imagine, I have a rather large chip on my shoulder about the commercialisation of everything.

For a time last year my blog left the “internet at large”, sank beneath the waves, and survived only within the my computer. A proper, private diary. I tried out “Bear”, “Day One” and “Journal” on the Mac – and decided I didn’t really like any of them. I returned to a folder full of plain text files with my tail between my legs.

Of course then I confounded myself, and re-surfaced the blog.

It’s been… a journey.

What else happened today?

I cut the hedge!

Our driveway is bordered by two tall hedges – which seem to not grow an inch for the greater part of the year, but then put on a massive growth spurt during the summer – I suspect purposely to annoy me. Lifting the hedge trimmer up and down the hedge a few hundred times is torture. My arms were reduced to rubber for quite some time afterwards.

There are murmurings about going out for breakfast tomorrow, and then on to Church. Before you fall off your chair, I’ll just be doing the breakfast bit – not the Church bit. When I was younger, when challenged I would say I was agnostic. Over the years I’ve become far more comfortable telling people that I “don’t believe in any of that”.

To be fair, none of my close friends have ever pushed the subject with me. One old friend did years ago – even the local vicar did. He tried to get me to go on an “Alpha course” – while having dinner with him he explained that having somebody on the course to challenge the views around the table would be useful. He then realised just how much chaos I might delight in causing, and quietly rescinded the invitation.

Anyway.

How on earth did I get on to this?

Just count yourself lucky I haven’t started emptying my head about UFOs and aliens. Oh my word, the books I read about all of that when I was younger and more impressionable.

On about books – Amazon delivered more books this weekend. More of the Dorling Kindersley “Big Ideas” collection. They’re kind of wonderful. I spent an hour this afternoon (after cutting the hedge) with a cup of coffee and a book about Anthropology.

Oh crikey. It’s gone 1am already. I need to stop writing, copy this into the interwebs, and click the publish button.
Last man standing

May 7, 2026

The rest of the family went to bed some time ago. You find me holed up in the study listening to a playlist, bathed in the light of the screen, wondering what tomorrow might bring.

I’m trying to slow down. I bought a bottle of wine this evening and kicked back – watching television for the first time in ages. I’m persisting with season five of “For All Mankind”, even though I suspect it jumped the shark at the end of season three. I think the writers know it too – otherwise they wouldn’t be making “Star City” to immediately re-tread the last four seasons from a different perspective.

Work is strange at the moment. While I have been part of a team chipping away at an enormous project for the last year, I’m about to become the last man standing. It’s going to be an odd, nomadic existence as I take on everything that everybody else has built. In a strange sort of way I’m looking forward to it – working alone means autonomy. Freedom.

I pulled my bullet journal off the shelf yesterday – purchased at the start of the year with thoughts of staging a quiet rebellion against being so plugged in all the time. I’ve also been looking at wrist watches. A year into owning and wearing an Apple Watch, carrying an iPhone, reading books on an iPad, writing on a MacBook, and noodling around on a Mac mini, I’ve kind of had enough. Yes, it’s all very clever, but I hardly use any of it.

I miss reading paper books. I miss writing in a notebook. And yet I know I probably won’t go back. It’s my own version of Plato’s cave. Once you’ve seen outside of the cave, while you might remember it fondly, there’s really no going back.

Anyway.

It’s getting late.

Time to go brush my teeth then head to bed. Perhaps read a book and escape into somebody else’s life for a bit. I think that’s why I like blogs too – or at least, old school blogs – journals. I don’t want to learn how I should look, write, get rich, make friends, or whatever else – I just want to escape into your world for a bit.

If you are one of our merry band – that still empties your guts into the keyboard with little or no filter, plan, or destination – be brave and reach out.
In the company of strangers

May 4, 2026

It’s a bank holiday here today. Rather than give in to expectation or obligation to “not waste the day”, I’m just pottering about, and not really achieving much at all. It’s wonderful.

I considered wandering into town – to prop myself at a table in a cafe with the laptop for a couple of hours – but then caught myself in the whole “performance” dilemma I mentioned recently. Do I really need to be sitting in a public place, people watching – even if it is unintentionally entertaining? Do I really want to be “that guy”, sitting with the laptop in a cafe?

When you see somebody sitting in a coffee shop, perfectly put together, tapping away on a laptop with a cup of frappa-chappa-skinny-whatever next to them, do you immediately presume they are cosplaying in plain sight? I tend to – and I also feel guilty for thinking it – because maybe they’re always that well turned out.

When I slope off to Spoons and hide in a booth early on a Saturday morning, I’m invariably unshaven, cloaked in a giant hoodie, and gazing slack jawed at the screen. The lack of self-awareness is probably hilarious.

The thing I love about sitting in public places on my own is that nobody wants anything from me. There’s no chore, task, or errand waiting for me.

For me, it’s more about escape than being seen. I’m the hassled looking guy you’ll spot hiding in the corner – not the effortlessly fashionable guy with the French bulldog tied to the outdoor cafe chair, wearing the chunky-knit sweater a friend told him to buy after reading a Cosmopolitan article about how to attract partners that won’t see past the performance.

Of course hiding in plain sight doesn’t stop my phone from following my every move – filling itself with emails and messages – and then there’s the guilt if I don’t respond to any mail or message immediately – and the even worse guilt if I miss a message from somebody that matters.

Do you wrestle with who matters? I do. Obviously family first, but among friends and acquaintances, do you triage at all? Can some people wait, while others cannot?

Anyway.

Enough thinking.

Perhaps a coffee, then another hour scrolling while listening to Kacey Musgraves empty my head while wondering how she knows so much about me.
Snakes and Ladders

May 2, 2026

After laying in bed listening to REM this morning, and debating about “Night Swimming” being their best song, I scraped myself out of bed, had a shower, got dressed, and quietly exited stage left to wander towards Wetherspoons for breakfast and coffee.

I just made a “Small American” disappear, and may have to re-fill my coffee in a few minutes. Across the way a middle-aged man is filling out the cross-word in the Wetherspoons magazine. An elderly couple are tucking into a fry-up. A young mum with two pre-teen children is sitting just along from me – no doubt feeding them to shut them up. They’ve both put their phones down to eat – amazing.

I wonder how many pub chains miss a trick by not offering breakfast and coffee? Of course it helps that Wetherspoons is by far the best value pub in town – making it a no-brainer if you want something to eat, but don’t want it to turn into a ridiculous performance, cost as much as the weekly food shop, or take an hour while waiting for serving staff.

So.

Elephants in rooms, and all of that (for those that have been reading in recent weeks).

This week was all about statements with the police, pulling together, and a remarkably quiet household. It has also been about poor decisions by others, and the prospect of pulling our parent hats back on for the next twenty years.

I’ll tell the whole story one day.

Some friends asked recently if we might join them for a drink last night – and I admitted that we can’t really plan more than half an hour ahead at the moment. The chaos is slowing, but it’s been relentless.

While walking here this morning, I wondered where the urge to fix others comes from. Is it something we are brought up with, or is it an instinct? Does everybody have it? It’s probably tied up with selflessness. While some forge ahead, doing whatever they’ve dreamed up next, some of us pick up behind them – standing those back up that haven’t done so well, trying to fix them as best we can.

Some people seem to be their own worst enemy – despite best efforts they continually find theirselves slipping to the bottom of snakes, rather than climbing ladders. It’s hard.

I remember when the children were small I would play Snakes and Ladders with them, and express both excitement and sadness as each of us either made progress or crashed back. I never anticipated that a simple board game was preparing me for decades to come.

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