I never seem to get it with Facebook. Mind that’s because I didn’t bother with it until recently. Likewise Linked-in. I merely joined these things because people suggested they were useful. They omitted to tell me they are useful if you understand how to use them effectively. My problem is that every time I want to respond to something or some-one on either, I’m constantly being asked for my password, which obviously I forget more often than I remember. There’s probably a simple solution to this but so far I haven’t sorted it. The bottom line is that I sometimes leave it too late to respond to requests and lose the chance to do so. So anyone who hasn’t received an adequate response so far, deserves an apology, but then I’d have to know my password or get another one…and I actually am in favour of the digital age, or at least until some clown on a mobile steps in front of me when I’m driving. Whilst I may possibly conceive that I would assist a suicide if necessary, I’d like to be asked first.
Well, wasn’t that little paragraph a change from my usual description of my various pub crawls. Suffice to say that I have been doing the usual rounds. Why, only the other day I proceeded on one starting at the Cock and Bottle, well almost, because when I got there it was to find it closed for refurbishment. I dread to think what will produce. On then to Finch’s in Portobello Road and then to The Castle likewise. Met a few auld acquaintances before making my way homewards via The Metropolitan and The Squirrel, where I will be playing next week, on Friday the 13th just before Valentine’s night. So all those people who worry about being unlucky on Friday the 13th will probably be just as unlucky on Valentine’s night too. That’s why we need to keep pubs viable so they have somewhere to drown their sorrows. And me a cynical optimist. Here’s no accounting for distaste…time for a drink!