Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs updated

I was having a board meeting in our favourite inn with my good friend Oakley last evening, and the guest ale was slipping down very nicely. Talk turned to Maslow's Heirachy, and precisely what constituted the basal layer. Whilst I was musing the specific needs, Oakley erupted with his characteristic flash of brilliance by rebranding the bottom deck 'Onslow's Hierarchy of Needs'.

I'll never be able to work again......

......... now I can watch my beloved creek all day and night.

http://www.fact.org.uk/webcam.cfm

Many thanks to Fellowship Afloat for rigging up the webcam in the lighthouse.

My current squeeze

Tuesday evening is music night, if I can be arsed to go, and last night I had my inhibitions beaten down by a broad-shouldered Shiraz, so I launched forth into my favourite chanson, 'Will the Circle be Unbroken?' with a fair degree of success.

It put me in mind of the wonderful version I saw on the seminal Transatlantic Sessions which they put on the telly in the late 90s, and with the wonders of Youtube, it has been reinstated as my absolute favourite squeeze. Lineups don't get much better than this, Michelle Wright, Iris Dement and that beautiful creature from Altan with the unpronounceable name, backed by Aly Bain, Jay Ungar, Jerry Douglas, Donnal Lunny and the absolute god of the piano accordion (and, ahem, acquaintance of mine.....)Phil Cunningham.

This is just the best.

Monkeys, typewriters & Shakespeare

I really despair that pedantry will make it much beyond the 2020s. I was visiting a supplier recently, and despite being lamentably slow at taking in my surroundings and being probably the most appaling observer in the history of curiosity, I happened to notice a whiteboard on the wall. Hoping it would reveal trade secrets, I started to read it, and asked the nearest operative what the heading 'ICENTIVE' meant.

Being in the land of the Iceni, I mused with that possible etymological root, but not for long, as it read 'Incentive' and was I bloody blind or stupid? I bravely pointed out that it perhaps lacked quite that many letters, when the entire office fell silent, then collectively breathed 'Oh yeah....'

The author was present, and had apparently daubed the sign more than six months earlier, but he, and the rest of those present had not spotted what attacked me in a gnat's crotchet.

Perhaps enough monkeys, typewriters and time would produce the works of Shakespeare, but presumably it would be exponentially quicker for one to produce 'Hey, hey, we're the monkeys!'