Sneaky Peeps

There weren't many cultural or political highlights to the weekend, the sad news of Charles Kennedy being deposed as Liberal Democrat leader aside. We'll miss him, his being ginger aside, since the man was articulate, interesting and genuine.

I'd been formulating a grand unified theory of British politics over drinks at O'Connors on Saturday. In essence it was that most of the Scottish politicians of the current generation came across as genuine and unaffected. John Smith, Tony Blair's, um, predecessor as leader of the Labour Party, was exhibit A in the case I was making. And then my compatriot mentioned Alex Salmond, and I realised I didn't quite have a watertight theory.

While I appreciate that he did lie about his drinking before admitting a problem with alcohol, there was something reasonable and unaffected about the guy. I'll miss him. Menzies (pron. "Mingies") Campbell does not seem to be, as the A-Team put it "on the jazz".

Where reason, and an appreciation for where the darker sorts of the political arts, cannot penetrate, give out, there the mindless consumerism must rush in. Brunch at Five Points was rather fine, and rather unhealthy.

I topped it off with some buying. Michael K's secret suburban sneaker lair coughed up some Onitsuku Tiger Ultimate 81 LEs. As worn by The Bride Kiddo.

Now I also scored a Spiewak Parka 50% off. But the weather's taken a turn for the better, so that went straight into the closet. Thus the most exciting thing is the sneakers. The Proper English for sneakers is, naturally, trainers, and nothing beats the sensation of new trainers, at least when the buggers fit properly.

But the only people to write an appropriate paean to new trainers were my high school's number one funk rock combo. Called Mental Cave Chickens, nothing of them survives, except for this post, that is. The melody's actually pretty good, although the young singer's voice is sadly the wrong side of ragged. Yes, the name is so bad, I am sorry that it will henceforth exist on the internet.

Interesting fact, the lyric from the verse was originally "Who needs drugs when you've got new trainers". I know because I worked on it with the original singer. But he got replaced, and the band decided that given the repressive atmosphere that prevailed at that time at the school, they would censor themselves. Vaclav Havels they were not.

Mental Cave Chickens - "New Trainers"
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