Apparently everyone does it; cruises along on some great zeitgeist, where all the thoughts an d ideas we have are are actually shared by most of our generation. It's a Noosphere, it's a Collective Consciousness, it's all in the memes..

Or put it another way. Back in the 1960's, when my mum and dad first looked at their new infant daughter and decided that the name MACY was radical and original, and memorable.. well thousands of other parents were thinking exactly the same thing.
Especially in Scotland...

Since starting work at the renowned Institute, I have found out exactly how unoriginal they were.
Not only is my Financial Director called Macy, but two of my budget holders are also called Macy.

That's on the third floor. Elsewhere in the institute there are a further THREE Macys at work.

Since there are only 130 people working at the institute worldwide* that means that about 10% of the female workforce in the Institute are called MACY.
HA! And it gets better. Because we are in Scotland - four of us are called Macy Mac...

Oh how we laughed when a dignified trustee sent an effusive e-mail to Macy (Me) inviting me out to lunch. He meant the other Macy of course..

But over the past five months, the joy of e-mails sent to the wrong person, or confusion over which Macy's office we are to meet in has worn off.

My team don't think it's funny anymore when they have to explain that no Macy can't meet with Macy at short notice because she's in a meeting with Macy. No not that Macy the other one...

I've been asked if I have a nickname they could use instead.
And I do .... but it's the one I use on my blog...

I found The Essential Billy Bragg!
It (not HE!) was on sale in a Save the Children shop.. Which is officially a triple whammy!

Wham 1 Because Walk Away Renee is one of the records I've wanted to burn onto CD for ages .. except I don't have one of those vinyl to CD gadgets...
Wham two is that I get a recycled CD that includes no less than 39 of Billy's other classics (St Swithin's Day! Between the Wars!) at an all time low price.. and
(Triple whammy! Bonus points time!) I can Save the Children too!

I think Billy would approve.

I've got my work cut out though, explaining to the Cherub why Billy Bragg is important, and not just some sad old git locked in a studio with a guitar and amp. And why exactly Kanye West has been ejected from the cd player in favour of this. So I'm keeping it very simple and basic and extreme to try and ramp up the enthusiasm levels.

"It's about the last time the Tories got power. When there was a major recession. Millions were unemployed.. they closed the steelworks... they closed the mines... there was a major gulf between the have and have nots.."

{I could give him the details, but I won't bother ..Me? I was at Aberdeen University.. member of Left Students... mini van down to Greenham Common.. assembling in Blytheswood Square in Glasgow to march for jobs ... Monday night meetings, then down to the Prince of Wales or the Blue Lamp .. Left Students discos at the union. Good times... Looking back we had it good in the times before student loans and tuition fees}

See the Bard of Barking is told it like it was. Good protest songs, from the heart.

And he was home spun, and English.. and sweet, St Swithins Day and Walk away Renee are bittersweet.. they still tear me up.

"Were there no communists in those days?"

Communists??? Oh yeah, but they weren't a major force, there weren't that many

{Actually thinking it, the Aberdeen communists were mainly wet... I don't remember them buying many rounds.. smoked a lot though}

And was their music worse?

He'll learn. Meanwhile Billy Bragg's sent me off down memory lane. See if you can spot the communist in the photo from Aberdeen 1984

In a major new development my Determination Officer has phoned me. This is exciting. Things are moving to a whole new personal level... we're on first name terms and everything. And I'm doing my best not to imitate her accent by accident.

BUT she says she needs a new photo of the Cherub.

Because the Cherub was smiling in the last photo I sent.

I say he wasn't. He had his mouth open a bit.. which is not a good look.. but, he wasn't drooling or anything.

Whatever, she needs a new photo.

She's the Determination Officer. She wins.

So it's back to the photo booth. For another photo. Head straight on. Hair out of eyes. Mouth closed. No smiling. Look straight at camera.
And another witness to be found to sign the photos and complete another copy of page 7 (Witness Statement and Proof of Identity).

This is the THIRD photo sent. The Cherub's looking noticeably older in each photo.

Strikes me at this rate he's going to have a beard before the Determination Officer's satisfied...

It's a cry from the heart and it's going out to the British Broadcasting Corporation who are issuing heatwave warnings every hour on the radio and the rest of the allegedly national news media

OK? OK??

Ice cream shortages?
Water rationing?
Sunstroke????

Tell it to someone who cares.
Do a reality check with us up here north of Carlisle will you?


My mother's had her central heating on for the past week, and the dog is frankly getting depressed at the thought of any more walks...

Yep, yadda, whatevers, because I'm
(a) too kind to bore you with tales of how wonderful my holiday was
(b) too lazy to make up for a fortnight's blogging
(c) getting to be of the cynical opinion that all holidays are more or less the same...

I've thrown together the following statements to let you generate your own version of my holiday. All of them are true...

The Cherub and I are just back from holiday in
(a) Sunny Turkey
(b) A beautiful hotel with two swimming pools and a spa
(c) Some part of the Med that will be forever INGERLAND

Early on in the holiday I told myself that I didn't care
(a) That I was the only one there without a partner - hell at least I didn't have Rows and Sulks and Silent Breakfasts....
(b) That, early days, as the lone Scots, the cherub and I were the whitest around the pool. Tanning is easy, it's not turning to leather in your old age that's hard.
(c) That air traffic control strikes in France meant that I spent the best part of my first day on holiday in Manchester Airport


Whilst there I
(a) Once again failed to learn how to swim
(b) Perfected my Mancunian accent
(c) Managed to avoid buying a carpet

I might always remember
(a) Pamukkale's salt pools
(b) The tortoises we found whilst walking in the "ghost village"
(c) Where I was when England were bombed out of the 2010 World Cup....

And let's not forget
(a)Thanks to the great food poisoning disaster of 2010, I lost 5 pounds in two days
(b)Thanks to "Genuine Fakes Limited" my designer handbag collection has trebled
(c)Thanks to hours everyday spent in the pool, I am now indeed the colour of a very old leather sofa...