Jolly Interesting Stuff™

This is not an easy post to write. For someone who calls themselves a writer today I fail in that pursuit as I don't have the words. After a wonderful three years the Jolly Interesting Stuff™ blog closes today. At least in its current form on blogspot. The newly created jonathanleecreative.com meant I was faced with a choice. To move this blog or to remain. There are a whole host of advantages in moving - ranging from fewer passwords to lose to SEO based positives - and as such the choice was not a difficult one. That's not to say I move without heavy heart. This blog has been home to some fascinating posts. We have interviewed actors, writers, newsreaders and fake cricketers. We have examined the political strain that one is faced with when drinking American and Russian cocktails. We have grown a ginger moustache. And, of course, who can forget the rather beautiful online romance with Julia Garang. So, yes, moving is tough. But move we must and reminiscing just prolongs the inevitable. So let's dry those eyes, stand up tall and leave with a smile on our faces. We have things to do.

You know me well enough to know that I wouldn't leave you with sadness in your heart. So, in something of a seamless join, the Jolly Interesting Stuff™ story continues immediately in its new location with Saying Hello. I knew you'd be pleased.

Before you go though, thank you blogspot and thank you. Maybe you'll come with me, maybe this is where you want to get off. Whichever it is let me say how much I have appreciated your loyalty to and interaction with this blog since 2007. It's been tremendous fun and exceeded even my wildest expectations. Thanks. With that, it's...

Goodbye.

This music video for the SixToes song Low Guns shows the view of the platform at Ravenscourt Park from a passing train. Only it's in slow-motion. And it's brilliant. The song itself I am not much fussed with. So second time around I watched it with The Mummers' Fade Away. Not intentionally, Chris Evans and I just had an unexpected but wholly wonderful syncing moment. It was nice.

Hopefully you won't need to have worked in advertising to understand the humour here, but if you don't find it amusing then I'd advise you to look for a weeks work experience in an advertising agency and then come back to watch it afterwards.

If you have ever wondered what New York City looks like from fifty feet under then this is for you. It's nearly 30 minutes in length, but well worth the watch. You can read more about it and view some amazing photos at undercity.org.

If you are an avid Jolly Interesting Stuff reader, you will remember that at the start of this year I told you about a film that was being made called Dream Racer. One man's dream to complete the Dakar Rally. Well, now that film has been made. And here is the trailer.



I could wax lyrical about how inspiring it looks, but I don't think I need to. It very much speaks for itself. To keep up to date with Dream Racer and view more clips you can visit dreamracer.tv and join the Dream Racer facebook group.

You may have been wondering what on earth is going on with Jolly Interesting Stuff as of late. It used to be filled with so many apparently random ideas. Catching 100 buses in one night; driving between New York and San Francisco 25 times to beat an iPod; getting engaged on on New Year's Eve.* Recently though there hasn't even been a flicker of a new challenge or a bizarre project. Well that's because I have been planning. And playing with next door's cat. And when you are planning and playing with next doors cat you really have to give it 100% of your time and attention. But now the planning is over and next door's cat has escaped, so I can finally tell you what I am doing next. (As well as 7 Reasons, Third Shepherd™ and getting Is This You? published).

The thing is, I'm not a cynic. I look for the positive. I take things at face value. Above all, I trust. But today I got an email that made me rethink all that. Or, at the very least, it made me delete my Friend's Reunited account. I had an email telling me I had a message from an old school 'friend'. For purposes of this post, let's call her Lucy. Now Lucy and I were never really friends. We were in the same class and I think we may have sat next to each other in Art or Science or something, but that was as close as we ever got. In hindsight, given that I am now with someone I truly adore, I am delighted, but I'd be lying if I said that at the age of ten I didn't like her. Quite why I liked her I can't remember now. I don't remember her making me laugh and by all accounts she wasn't much to write home about in the looks department either. But then again, neither was I. My plastic spectacles the only thing taking attention away from my schoolboy fringe. Somehow, in some way though, I did fancy her. And somehow, in some way, the whole class found out. Maybe I was naive, but the day she asked me what shampoo I used was the day I went home a very happy boy. I liked a girl and she appreciated my taste in hair cleaning products. When you're ten that is the kind of thing that gets you through your homework. Well it did me anyway. I suspect I was buoyant as I made my way to school the next day. Maybe this day was the day I'd get myself a girlfriend? It wasn't. I had been set up. Lucy wasn't interested in me. Or my hair. She was playing to the class. Pretending to be interested in me. I was mocked. You would think I would have felt humiliated. But I don't remember that being the case. I think I just laughed it off and went back to the playground to play cricket. Inside though, I must have been hurting. Because I never forgave her. Not that she ever asked for forgiveness. Or apologised. That is, until today. In her email, she writes:

It is sometimes fun to leave a message on a friend's phone saying how much you have just enjoyed their funeral.

If anyone ever says to you, 'I can't see myself as a fireman', buy them a yellow hard hat and a mirror.

When making an Indian, it is more fun if you are dressed as a cowboy.

To avoid funny looks from neighbours it is best to put laundry on the line that has actually been in the washing-machine.

There is a Russian photographer who goes by the name of Sergey Larenkov. He has been superimposing photos from World War II over modern photos of the exact location. And the results are stunning. You can see the rest here.

This post was written listening to the theme from The Dam Busters.

There are two of us picking up this man. We are a team. I have the strength and the sweaty brow, he has the experience and the hip-replacement. But we're doing it. We are actually getting this man back to his feet. He has been on the floor for ten minutes, which is too long for anyone to be on the floor of a shopping centre really. If I had actually realised he didn't want to be on the floor, I would have probably helped him up much earlier. But that's the trouble with cafe-curtains, sometimes they just don't allow you to see. Which is why, instead of helping him up, I am eating scones with my girlfriend and wondering which decade this part of the coffee shop is supposed to resemble. Based on the cafe-curtains we decide on 1947. Which was probably the year my future partner in lifting was first experiencing long trousers. Not that I've met him yet. In fact, I am completely oblivious as to what is about to happen.

It's amazing when you have a week off. Even if it's an unintentional week off like this one. You get sidetracked by origami and ginger cake. And, if you're lucky, you remember you used to do a blog. A blog like this one. There was a time when I was proud of this blog. It was a hub of activity and an integral part of 33 people's daily internet viewing. These days it hides in the shadows of other more important and popular irritants. It's sad really, I know I should do something to give it life, but like a doctor bored with his patient, I am happy to let it fade away. Unfortunately, I don't find myself possessing the necessary sadistic qualities. Everytime I try to let it die, I feel a tinge of regret. I remember - fondly - times when I used to write about American and Russian cocktails and I was in a thriving relationship with a young African girl who didn't exist. I want to write like that again. Or, more is the point, I want to feel like I want to write like that again. It was easy before. I didn't need to force it. I was just able to write. I don't know if I am suffering from a major case of 'bloggers block' or whether it is simply a case that young African millionaires have lost my email address. I guess that sounds like a cliché, but it's true. I did decide yesterday, though, that I should at least try. So we have a new layout and a new post. Maybe that will inspire me. Maybe it won't. But we'll enjoy finding out won't we?

This post was brought to you by tea and Test Match Special.

This was taken on the upper level of a car park in High Wycombe. I went there so you don't have to. At first I thought it was funny. I know I did because I laughed. But when you think about it, it's actually quite sobering.

I'm a little bit disturbed. And that's very different from, 'I'm a little bit disturbing,' before anyone thinks they should stop reading. If you read my last post you will know we have a new government in the UK. I'm of the opinion that they should be given the chance to get this country back to where it should be. Rather worryingly though, I seem to be in a minority. I've read various newspaper columns and websites and seen comments on social networking sites over the last few days, that have, in all honesty, made me shake my head. And these comments are not just from Labour supporters. They are from those of all political persuasions. Tory. Lib Dem. Green. Monster Raving Loony. Monster Munch. The glaringly obvious conclusion is that people want this coalition to fail. Why? Well basically it is because your party of choice isn't in power. Or, if they are, they are not in power in the way you wanted. My question is, 'So what?' As surprising as it might sound, I didn't vote for a poxy coalition either. Am I glad we have one? No, I'm poxy well not. But that doesn't matter. Really it doesn't. The fact is, we do.

Like it or not, David Cameron is Prime Minister and Nick Clegg is his deputy. Their job is to make this country the best it can be. For me. For you. For your next door neighbour. For the milkman. For Peter Stringfellow. For Edd The Duck. For everyone. Shouldn't we all be hoping they can do that? Supporting a particular political party is not like supporting your local - or not so local - football team. We shouldn't want one to fail just because we don't like them. We should want them all to do their best for all of us. I was never a fan of Gordon Brown, but did I want him to make the UK a better place? Of course I did. I didn't want him to cock our country up. So why do people want David Cameron to fail? Well the general consensus seems to be because his cabinet is full of posh boys. Oh, and because he comes across as smug. Seriously, what is that about? It's a bit like me saying I don't want England to win the Football World Cup because I don't like the fact that Steven Gerrard doesn't sing the National Anthem. (And that is something that really annoys me). But I don't want England to fail. I want them to win. And, I'm sorry, but if you have any pride at all in this country then you should want this coalition to win too.

End of rant. Tomorrow I'll be back to writing about myself again. Probably something about my guns. I say tomorrow, it'll probably be June. When I've been in the weights room.