Sweet Nothings

My first Glastonbury in 2003 didn't really count, as I hadn't a clue what I was letting myself in for. I went down on the Friday morning with a couple of old schoolmates and their friends (most of them doctors, whose drug intake didn't fill me with confidence in the future of the medical profession), people all wanted to watch different things and I spent most of the time wandering around alone. There were some great sets from REM , Radiohead and the Flaming Lips in particular, but I didn't come away thinking I'd gotten the full Glasto experience. At least it was dry that year, which is more than could be said for my return date in 2007. Fortunately, I was with my good friend who leaves nothing to chance when planning musical iteneraries and we roamed around the whole site taking in as many bands as possible. Getting there on Wednesday evening helped too, giving plenty of time to explore the further-flung nooks and crannies of the festival. I was eager to go back f

Sadly, mine look nowhere near as cool as these. A new branch of [well-known optical emporium] has just opened up the road from the office and, mindful of the fact that I’ve regularly had to squint to read text on my TV such as teletext, subtitles on foreign films etc (oh alright, it’s usually the scores on Sky Sports) for a while now, I took advantage of their aggressively-marketed free eye test offer. Lo and behold, I am now the owner of two brand-new pairs of glasses. Leaving aside the commercial considerations of the said opticians (in possible borderline cases such as mine where my eyes clearly aren’t that bad, do they prescribe specs anyway in order to gain customers?), I’m now adjusting to the fact that I’ll be spending large portions of my life with bits of glass and metal on my face. Things look subtly different when I put them on. It’s a very strange sensation. I also felt even more self-conscious than usual when I put them on in the office for the first time this morning. Wou

Movies JJ Abrams's reimagining of Star Trek was better than I could ever have expected it to be. Contrary to accusations from some die-hard Trekkers, Abrams has managed to stay true to the spirit of the tired old franchise whilst completely reinvigorating it with hipper characters and cutting-edge FX. Surely there won't be a better action blockbuster all year. Let The Right One In was an effective melding of youthful coming-of-age tale and bloody horror, made more unsettling by its bleached 80s Scandinavian suburban setting. Perhaps not the masterpiece that some have made it out to be though, and certainly the gorier scenes prompted more knowing laughter from me rather than genuine scares. And then there was a preview showing of The Hangover last week. Now, the format of this is somewhat original - three blokes wake up in their hotel room after a stag night in Vegas having gained a baby and a tiger but lost the groom - but the unlikeable, 2D characters (including a young Brian