I just want to be Filthy Rich!

You, reader, must know of my aversion (call it suppression if you like) to TV shows. But. I have made an exception and when I make exceptions, it has to be the best. After all, if you're going to do something - do it well. And so. Allow me to introduce you (fanfare please) to The Riches! 

The show follows the lives of a Traveler (Irish Gypsies who roam around the United States pick pocketing and conning their way about life) family who end up impersonating a dead man's life. It's got everything you need in a show: excellent dialogue, edge-of-your-seat-tongue-wagging-eyes-popping suspense, cross-dressing, Southern hospitality, lies, deceit, llamas, sex in a Benz, and of course, Eddie Izzard - who is at the moment, the bane of my existence. Yes. I am in love. It's a transcendental trashy unexplainable kind of love. Minnie Driver gives an excellent performance too. 

Right. Watch it if you can. You won't regret it. 

 

If Hell was a blues bar, I'd gladly be a sinner!

Last night was my induction into the shady swanky smoky (even with the smoking ban, if you get my drift) world of the blues, courtesy of some good friends from SOAS (thank ye, James). We sat at a table right next to the stage, and therefore got the full brunt of the music - not that I'm complaining. The early evening saw the crowd serenaded by two men with guitar, singing everything from Dylan to Lennon. As it got later, and the lights got dimmer, the small stage was compacted rather ingeniously with a full set of drums, a double bass, audio boxes of some sort, and of course the West Weston lads with their harmonicas and blues charm. When they began, the evening truly did too. Everyone was moving to the beat and for one moment, all seemed just fine with the world. And with the blues, all will be taken in our stride.

All in all, a good evening. And lastly and most importantly, thank you Art Mitchells-Urwin (the person, the idiom and the concept rolled into one person), for reminding me that there is still much humanity and respect in this world.

West Weston, play me the blues, boys.