Dear Bunty, Imagine my surprise

The General Manager
Customer Service Centre
London Underground
55 Broadway
London SW1H 0BD


Dear Sir or Madam,

Monday 27th November

My intention in writing this letter is neither to angle for compensation nor to achieve refund, it is simply to register my disbelief with you.

For many months now I have been travelling to work using the same train combination – namely the Jubilee Line from Kilburn to Finchley Road and then the Metropolitan Line from Finchley Road to Great Portland Street. You are right, there is nothing to disbelieve about this – in fact I receive an excellent service between Tuesday and Friday, and even at the weekends. I can leave my house at 9a.m. and be at my office front door at 9.25 a.m.

When I moved to Kilburn I came from several years of Victoria Line misery: early and unadvertised terminating trains at Seven Sisters, having to wait up to twenty-five minutes for trains to Walthamstow late at night, impossible heat every day, spurious ‘regulating the service’ announcements, and signal failures with impeccable regularity. It was a joy to move to Kilburn onto a line that was fresh and without the Victoria Line’s foibles. I have noticed, however, now the buzz has worn off, a rather unusual phenomenon.

Every Monday morning, my day begins with a 9.30 meeting at my office. It may (or may not) surprise you that I have not managed to be at this meeting for about 2 months. With regularity, my Monday morning trip to fulfil my contracted obligations takes ten minutes longer than it should. As I say, having lived in Walthamstow for so long, I became numbed to such journey delays. It was only thinking about it this morning that I realised the ridiculousness of the situation – I left ten minutes earlier this morning, only to arrive 50 minutes after I set off. I gather that this was because ‘someone was reversing a train into the platform at Baker Street and all the trains are queuing’. Quite apart from the fact that I thought trains were ambimotive and this therefore should not be quite so unusual, I am distressed that my journey to work every Monday, and usually only Monday, is delayed by such an incredulous amount of time. Is there a reversing train at Baker Street timetabled into events at about 9.35 a.m. ?

You may by now have realised that my gripe with London Underground is that every day my journey runs fantastically, apart from Monday when it is ALWAYS delayed. I cannot for one moment begin to imagine what logical reason there is for this. Perhaps the person controlling the sub-suface lines at Baker Street on Monday mornings is the same person? Perhaps his/her unique way of controlling involves creating delays. Should there have been engineering works over this particular weekend, I might have been able to understand; to my knowledge there were no engineering works that would cause ‘trains to be in the wrong place’. Similarly, there were no delays on the Circle Line (and subsidiaries) according to your posters at Great Portland Street.

I’m not sure you are able to answer this expression of disbelief. We all have problems getting out of bed on a Monday, but this should not really affect a giant trainset – how does Monday differ from any other day? Tuesday for example? I can tell you that my journey tomorrow will be perfectly on time. I’m almost certain that the same would not be the case in a city such as Berlin. It is not infrastructure, it is simply unbelievable.

Thank you for reading this rant, if indeed you have got this far. I shall leave twenty minutes earlier – I will let you know with an apology if I manage to make my 9.30 a.m. meeting.

Yours in disbelief




Jonathan Lee

See the Swans' Mumbles

And finally after waiting a while and procrastinating and being me, I have got the photos of Kath and Rowan's wedding up on my Pickle space (with help from the excellent customer service at pickle.com I should add).

So here they are....

enjoy....


PHOTO TIME



JL

No, I'm quite happy with where I am thank you

I started writing this post sitting in a sunroom in Skye where I was on holiday with Henry, Gary and Ben (I wasn't necessarily on holiday in the sunroom, I just happened to be there at the time I was writing). It's occurred to me several times that I had a foetal muse on a bit of paper that was stuffed in the back of my diary, but it was spending an evening talking with Ben that reminded me to do something about it!

In July, I had some dental work done. It cost me £200 to have reconstruction inside my mouth. What was all the money about? I had some teeth shortened and I had a new tooth put in to cover a wonky tooth. The procedure was very impressive - it only took about 30 minutes, and I came out with a new smile that made me feel better. However, for days, even weeks afterwards, I convinced myself that I had made the wrong decision --* I could feel this new tooth in my mouth like a foreign brick. Gradually it got better, and eventually I couldn't notice the difference - my mouth feels like it has always been the way it is. Why is that? Is it because the neuro-senses are stubborn? Why does it take the nerves so long to adapt? They are not proud... they must just be stubborn.

Stubborn is:
1. unreasonably obstinate; obstinately unmoving: a stubborn child.
2. fixed or set in purpose or opinion; resolute: a stubborn opponent of foreign aid.
3. obstinately maintained, as a course of action: a stubborn resistance.
4. difficult to manage or suppress: a stubborn horse; a stubborn pain.
5. hard, tough, or stiff, as stone or wood; difficult to shape or work.

In August I spent a week in Scotland, on the Isle of Skye, with Hengar and Ben. It is the most beautiful place I have been to in recent memory. Why was it (and presumably still is) such a beautiful place? And why does it take so long to get used to it? Is it like new teeth? Is my mind as stubborn as my neurosystem? It takes so long to get used to because it is something new and free that lets the mind out to walk - that can inhibit the stubborness. Fixed or set in purpose.

All people are stubborn in the way they live their lives; we stubbornly hold onto thoughts, concepts, beliefs, opinions and our pride. Slowly realisation comes that things have changed in the mind, that the balance has tipped, and we silently and secretly (and probably sub-conciously at some levels) realign ourselves with new stubborn floors (and flaws) to stand on. We are as a being too proud to allow flexible thought and to be aware that others can be right or that there is no need to always have a strong opinion. Just look at politics and politics in your workplace, and see how long it can take to change standpoints. No, I'm not going to head for a discussion about the elusive myth of free thought.

It was interesting recently that a friend pointed out, when I told him some of the things I've done in the past year, that it was part of growing up and getting older. Patronising perhaps, but true. We had been talking about friendships and life things, and how the obstinate boundaries I had placed in my mind when I was younger, whilst other people had discovered flexibility, were now breaking down for me too. Things some people aligned to in their late teens and twenties, I was finding myself aligning to in my late 20s. But similarly flexibilities I discovered in my early 20s and thought I had learnt by, I find myself stubbornly repeating. Stubborn I tell you.

Of course - why are we stubborn? We need things to hold on to. That feeling you have when things are going wrong, of falling down a cliff grabbing at the sides trying to get a hold, is significant. By showing strength in our expressions to others, we hold on and we feel moored - and we refuse to move to other mental mooring pegs - we don't realise it is possible to move one rope at a time to another peg without flying off in the wind. It is a shame that people are so proud. If you notice it in yourself, you feel like a wally, if you notice it in others, you just accept it.

Interesting.

JL

* ps blogger.com -- why can I not do an en-rule on your software?

Would anyone...

actually notice if I disappeared? Apart from my parents, apart from G, apart from J, and apart from work?

I wonder.

It is worth testing it out.

Taken for granted? Possibly always. Needing escape from a normality appreciation. Yes.

Again, Jehova quam multi sunt hostes mei.

JL

Just random

I found this photo whilst looking around in my alcohol-pickled brain for something to say. It was taken by Benjee in Skye. It sort of typifies my museful pose I think; what musing is all about. I hunger for views and peace like this for my thinking!!



When I got home from work today, I was delighted to have a letter from wonderful Rel! There is something wonderful about handwritten letters - I love receiving them. Alas, far too few people write these days. Anyhow I feel like I know everything going on in sunny Kenya - and I have the best of respect for what Rel is doing. The best thing about a letter is that you feel like you have been there - there is so much personality in a letter!

Well. This random post would not be complete without a rant!

1) Train screens:

a) Tube 'time-to-wait' screens-

Why is it that the screens on tube platforms showing you how long you need to wait before the next train, are always obscured by something else:



Why is it also that, particularly on the Circle line, the screens often don't show how many minutes until the next train, and then when people cross the yellow line to see down the tunnel, the attendants get all cross - SORT IT OUT LONDON UNDERGROUND!

b) At Euston station, why is it that on the screens telling you where each train is going , there is a slide shoved in warning you about common sense things like slippy platforms. This I wouldn't mind so much if it didn't spend twice as long on the screen as the information you actually want. Many a time at Euston, with 1 minute to go before the train I think I want to catch, have I had to be reminded about slippy platforms and smoking policies, when all I want to know is whether the train is going to my stop. SORT IT OUT SILVERLINK!


2)Those bloody free newspapers:


Dear Puggers (paper muggers), if I decide that I want one of your trashy, free. London evening papers, and that I want to read bad grammar and bad journalism and turn my hands black, I will not walk towards you quickly shaking my head. The next person who tries to stab my midriff with this allusion to journalism, might be subject to coarse language. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.


3) Season ticket renewers:


Why oh why oh why do you renew a season ticket at peak rush hour when the queue behind you will clearly build up very quickly. What selfish, unrepentant urge allows you to hold up a ticket clerk for 5 minutes whilst you ask about all your options, and then to turn-around and look totally unphased by all the commuters choking blood and with contorted faces?? Why?

AND TO THE RAILWAY COMPANIES - Why on earth can't you sort it out and have your so-called 'quick' ticket machines dispense boundary extensions? What possible reason is there that you won't? SORT IT OUT

Phew! I feel better now!

Some photos to end:


Benjee on the train doing his best to be lawless...























I couldn't believe, having sat down in the BL to do some quiet editing, that I'd sat at desk 146. That number is going to return all my life - I can see that now!























What is a 'Private Rod', and why does Embankment station have a room for it?






















JL

La di dee, one two three

Goodness. What a marathon two weeks. Maurice Durufle was an amazing man, but he certainly knew how to tie up someone's life for a while. I have finally learnt and performed the accompaniment to his Requiem; as I have said before, quite possibly one of my favourite pieces of music. I performed it on Thursday evening with the Chiltern Chamber Choir in Berkhamsted, in my church which was full of incense and candlelight, and for the first time in my tenure, an All Souls Catafalque The symbolism was excellent, and as for the cope worn by the priest.... I can't understand peoples' fear and hatred of the beautiful symbolic rites of the church.

Anyhow. That eulogy was to explain my silence again: I have been working almost non-stop on the Durufle, which has had it's own effect on my still ailing health - I'm not well again, but my mind is fertile from the music and the enjoyment of the social life I've managed to continue with my friends. There is much musing to return when I get a chance to construct it. In the meantime, a few random 'imagebites' from my phone. A snapshot of muse over the past 2 weeks.

I spotted the name of the manufacturers of my work lifts....

Henry muses on his red wine in Lee's Bag.

Mary, Claire and Rupert's foot were amongst the people who came to support the Durufle. Here they are repenting of silverlink..

I thought this was a perfect description....

Gavin drunk in charge of a bicycle on the way to the Edge from Lee's Bag (is there something metaphorical there?)

JL