Important Questions Of Our Time.

Is Julia Bradbury:

The new Carol Vorderperson?

I watched the B.B.C.'s Secret Britain programme this evening and noticed that the usually voluble Ms. Bradbury became very quiet whist being lowered into Alum Pot in the Yorkshire Dales.

Zeitgeist!

I felt there was something in the air a couple of years ago.
People of my acquaintance who don't know much about music started talking about the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain (they've been together for around 25 years now!)
Last September, as I was 'training' to ride the Gridiron Randonee, I pedaled through Worthing and was quite dismissive of the town due to it's lack of dedicated cycle paths (now remedied I notice) but what I failed to mention was, on leaving the town, hearing the massed strumming of ukuleles coming from the Worthing Rowing Club.
I was curious about what was going on but didn't have the time to investigate.

Move forward to July of this year when I was contacted by Mr. Frank Key asking me to contact Resonance 104.4 FM magnifico Mr. Ed Baxter (see IoS Happy List 2009) about the up coming international ukulele festival in Worthing. I am in turn put in touch with the lovely Daniela who asked me if I would distribute promotional material for the festival around Bognor Regis and Chichester.

Turns out Daniela also runs a ukulele jam... in Worthing.  Thus the mystery of the uke strumming I heard last year was solved.

And so today, along with my friends Jane and Angela, I pay my first visit to a ukulele jam.
The Wukulele (Worthing ukulele jam) is held at the Worthing Rowing Club on the last Sunday of the month between 12 & 2.
It's fantastic!
Look at this picture of happy people with their ukes:

The picture only shows about half of the people attending.
Notice the range of ages participating.
It's got everything!
There's even a man with a beard.

Working from a downloadable set of song books, we twanged and plunked through loads of great tunes
accompanied by an excellent double bass player. I couldn't stop myself grinning from ear to ear all the way through.
Here's a picture of Jane, Angela and myself grinning:

(Yes you can play kazoos as well in the bits where the lead breaks should go.)
Technical note: My uke is bigger than usual because it's a baritone version.

So here's my recommendation for achieving happiness for at least 2 hours a month.
Buy yourself a ukulele and find a local uke jam.
If you can't find a local jam, buy yourself a uke and start one.

You should also book a holiday in Worthing from the 8th to the 10th of October and visit the Wukulele Festival 2010.
(If things go well you may even get to see Jane and me performing on the fringe.)
I'm convinced this is the way forward for happiness in our modern world.

From Earth To The Moon And A Trip Around It. Pt.III

As the Columbiad flew farther and farther from the earth, it's weight diminished, due to the lessening of the earth's attraction.  The time was coming when it would possess no weight at all.  This would be at the point where the gravitational pull of the earth and the gravitational pull of  the moon neutralized each other.  There was a danger, awful to think about, that at this point the projectile would stop and remain there, immovable, for ever.  Preferable to that would be that, losing speed, it might fail to reach the point of equal attraction and plunge back to Earth.  The likelihood, however, was that the Columbiad would still retain some of the motion given to it by its original discharge and would therefore cross the neutral line into the field of lunar attraction and fall upon the moon.

As they drew nearer and nearer to the dead line, extraordinary things began to happen within the space-ship. Captain Nicholl dropped a glass, which, instead of falling to the floor and breaking, remained suspended in mid-air!  Other objects were "hung up" in space, and the dog, Diana, floated about between floor and ceiling.  Devoid of weight by the cancelling out of the terrestrial law of gravity, the three men could lean at all angles without falling, and climb into the air without steps!  It was a startling and novel experience.

Barbicane explained that on the moon they would weigh six times less than their weight on the earth.
"And we shall feel it?" asked Michel Ardan.
"Evidently, as 200 lbs. will only weigh 30lbs. on the surface of the moon."
"And out muscular strength will not diminish?"
"Not at all; instead of jumping one yard high, you will rise eighteen feet high."
"But we shall be regular Herculeses in the moon!" exclaimed Michel.
"Yes," replied Nicholl; "for if the height of the Selenites is in proportion to the density of the globe, they will be scarcely a foot high."
"Lilliputians!" ejaculated Michel; "I shall play the part of Gulliver.  We are going to realize the fable of the giants. This is the advantage of the leaving one's own planet and overrunning the solar world."
"One moment, Michel," answered Barbicane; if you wish to play the part of Gulliver, only visit the inferior planets, such as Mercury, Venus, or Mars, whose density is a little less than that of earth; but do not venture into the great planets, Jupiter, Saturn,  Uranus, Neptune; for there the order will be changed, and you will become Lilliputian."
"And in the sun?"
"In the sun, if its density is thirteen hundred and twenty-four thousands times greater, and the attraction is twenty-seven times greater than on the surface of our globe, keeping everything in proportion, the inhabitants ought to be at least two hundred feet high."

As hoped and expected, the Columbiad's speed did carry it over the neutral line.  The next problem was how to land on the moon gently.  Even with weight reduced to a sixth of earth-weight, a fall from such a height without some checking of speed of descent might be disastrous.  Barbicane found the solution in a number of rockets, which, when fired off from the base, would produce a recoil and so check the projectile's speed.

The moon, now vast, seemed to be filling the universe, but it gradually became evident that the projectile was not going to hit it.  There became no longer room for doubt.  The Columbiad had been diverted from its course.  Why, none of the travellers could say.

"Might it not be an excess of speed?" asked Nichol; "for we know now that its initial velocity was greater than they supposed."
"No! a hundred times, No! replied Barbicane.  "An excess of speed, if the direction of the projectile had been right, would not have prevented us from reaching the moon.  No. there has been a deviation.  We have been turned from our course."
"By whom? by what?" asked Nicholl.
"I cannot say." replied Barbicane.  But at last he found the answer.  "Cursed be the meteor which crossed our path."
"What?" said Michel Ardan.
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Nicholl.
"I mean," said Barbicane in a decided tone, "I mean that our deviation is owing solely to our meeting with this erring body."
"But it did not even brush us as it passed," said Michel.
"What does that matter? Its mass, compared to that of our projectile, was enormous,  and its attraction was enough to influence our course."
"So little?" cried Nicholl.
"Yes, Nicoll; but however little it might be," replied Barbicane, "in a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no more to make us miss the moon."
They were brave men, all three.  Bitter as was the blow, unpredictable as was their fate now that they were being borne past the moon into the unknown solitudes and perils of infinite space, they devoted their energies calmly to observing the vast heavenly body to which they had come closer than any human beings had ever been before.

From Earth To The Moon And A Trip Around It. Pt.II

After this shock, however, the plain fact emerged that they were already fifty thousand leagues from the earth, and that they were still going up.  Cambridge Observatory had certainly miscalculated, but by a lucky chance the starting speed, "under the power of the 400,000 lbs. of gun cotton," must have been much greater than that supposedly needed.

Michel Ardan had bought with him in the aerial car chess, draughts, cards and dominoes, not only for their own amusement but for the enjoyment of the inhabitants of the moon!

"My friend," said Barbicane, "it the moon is inhabited, its inhabitants must have appeared some thousands of years before those of earth, for we cannot doubt that their star is much older than ours. If then these Selenites have existed these hundreds of thousands of years, and if their brain is of the same organisation as the human brain, they have already invented all that we have invented, and even what we may invent in the future ages.  They have nothing to learn from us, and we have everything to learn from them."

"What!" said Michel; "you believe that they have artists like Phideas, Michael Angleo, or Raphael?"
"Yes."
"Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, and Hugo?"
"I am sure of it."
"Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant?"
"I have no doubt of it."
"Scientific men like Archimedes, Euclid, Pascal, Newton?"
"I could swear it."
"Comic writers like Arnal, and photographers like Nadar?"
"Certain."
"Then, friend Barbicane, if they are as strong as we are, and even stronger - these Selenites - why have they not tried to communicate with the earth?  Why have they not launched a lunar projectile to our terrestrial regions?"
"Who told you that they have never done so?" said Barbicane, seriously.
"Indeed," added Nicholl, "it would be easier for them than for us, for two reasons; first, because the attraction on the moon's surface is six times less than on that of the earth, which would allow a projectile to rise more easily; secondly, because it would be enough to send such a projectile only at 8,000 leagues instead of 80,000,  which would require the force of projection to be ten times less strong."
"Then," continued Michel, " I repeat it, why have they not done it?"
"And I repeat," said Barbicane; "who told you that they have not done it?"
"When?"
"Thousands of years before man appeared on earth."
"And the projectile - where is the projectile?  I demand to see the projectile."
"My friend," replied Barbicane, "the sea covers five-sixths of our globe.  From that we may draw five good reasons for supposing that the lunar projectile, if ever launched, is now at the bottom of the Atlantic or the Pacific, unless it sped into some crevasse at that period when the crust of the earth was not yet hardened."
"Old Barbicane," said Michel, " you have an answer for everything, and I bow before your better wisdom.  But there is one hypothesis that would suit me better than all the others, which is, that the Selenites, being older than we, are wiser, and have not invented gunpowder."

Among the livestock Michel Ardan was taking to the moon were two dogs, one of which died and was thrown out into space.  This burial accomplished without mishap, the astronauts did not fear to dispose of rubbish and waste in the same way, but to their astonishment nothing dropped away;  everything they jettisoned into the airless void followed in their train to the moon, including the dead dog!

This was only one of the many curious phenomena that came into their experience as they tore through space on the strangest journey ever undertaken by men.  The moon became an enormous disc, which, it seemed, they could grasp it they stretched out their hands.  They had expected to land on the northern hemisphere, but it became clear to Barbicane as they drew nearer to the moon that in some unaccountable way the course of the projectile had altered slightly.  He could not understand why, and he did not convey his fears to his companions.
If they should miss the moon it would mean that they would be carried on into an even greater unknown  - into interplanetary space.

From Earth To Moon And A Trip Round It. Pt, I

I posted about a book from 1948 called Flights Into The Future I'd found at a car-boot sale.
The book contains an abridged version of Jules Verne's From Earth To Moon And A Trip Around It.
Over the next few days I intend serialising the story here.

 Jules Verne, famous French pioneer of science-fiction, visualised a voyage to the Moon by means of a projectile shot from an enormous cannon.  the "mechanics" of this amazing venture into space may not bear the light of modern scientific knowledge, but the account, given here, in "potted" form, makes fascinating reading and is a remarkable "flight into the future", taken three- quarters of a century ago.

On the first day of December at forty-six minutes and forty seconds after ten p.m., three bold pioneers were shot from the earth to the moon in an aluminium projectile.  The three space-travellers were President Barbicane, of the American Gun Club, Captain Nicholl, another American, and Michel Ardan, a Frenchman. Months had been spent in preparation for this amazing adventure, and millions of people were present at the dramatic launching of the Columbaid, which was fired from a gigantic gun sited on Stones Hill, Florida. It was timed to reach the moon at precisely  midnight on the fifth day of December, when the moon would be at the zenith, and at it's nearest point to the earth, namely, 238,833 miles.

In something like six seconds the space-shell passed through the deep belt of atmosphere lying above the earth,  Barbicane, gazing out through a window into the starlit night, suddenly saw a brilliant disc rushing towards them.  It proved to be a meteorite of enormous size, which might easily have ended their experiment there and then by colliding with them.  This danger escaped, however, they were able to gaze out in wonder at the heavenly landscape beheld unveiled for the first time by human eye.

The lunar disc shone with wonderful purity.  Her rays, no longer filtered through the vapoury atmosphere of the terrestrial globe, shone through the glass, filling the air in the interior of the projectile with silvery reflections.  Her mountains, her plains, every projection was as clearly discernible to their eyes as if they were observing it from some spot upon the earth; but it's light was developed through space with wonderful intensity,  The disc shone like a platinum mirror.  Of the earth flying from under their feet, the travellers had lost all recollection.

The travellers, however, were sharply reminded of the earth, for they discovered that the scientists of Cambridge Observatory, who had calculated that a starting speed of twelve thousand yards was necessary for the projectile to reach the moon, had made a mistake.  The impulsion required for the Columbiad to shoot free of the earth's gravitational pull was seventeen thousand yards in the first second.
"We shall not be able to reach the neutral point."  said Barbicane.
"The deuce!"
"We shall not even get half way."
"In the name of the projectile!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, jumping as if it was already on the point of striking the terrestrial globe.
"And we shall fall back to earth!"

Continued in tomorrow's thrilling installment!

Kazoo & Henry.

Does vacumming bore you?
Why not buy yourself a kazoo and buzz along with your sucky household gadget:

  Kazoo & Henry by Outa_Spaceman

Good Heavens! I Never Thought Of It That Way.

Quote of the week from The Skeptics' Guide To The Universe:

"You know that chemistry has an impact on your daily life, but the extent of that impact can be mind-boggling. Consider just the beginning of a typical day from a chemical point of view. Molecules align in the liquid crystal display of your clock, electrons flow through its circuitry to create a rousing sound, and you throw off a thermal insulator of manufactured polymer. You jump in the shower, to emulsify fatty substances on your skin and hair with chemically treated water and formulated detergents. You adorn yourself in an array of processed chemicals - pleasant-smelling pigmented materials suspended in cosmetic gels, dyed polymeric fibers, synthetic footware, and metal-alloyed jewelry. Today, breakfast is a bowl of nutrient-enriched, spoilage-retarded cereal and milk, a piece of fertilizer-grown, pesticide-treated fruit, and a cup of a hot, aqueous solution of neurally stimulating alkaloid. Ready to leave, you collect some books - processed cellulose and plastic, electrically printed with light-and-oxygen-resistant inks - hop in your hydrocarbon-fuelled metal-vinyl-ceramic vehicle, electrically ignite a synchronized series of controlled, gaseous explosions, and you're off to class!"

Martin S. Silberberg

I notice that there is one significant detail missing from that description of a 'typical day'.
Maybe he had a pee while he was in the shower.

N.B. It is never a good idea to 'jump' into a shower, or a bath.

What The Hell Is That? No.2: Urban Rebounding.

Linda has cooled on Zumba and is now, after a free half hour taster session, an advocate of Urban Rebounding.

I've said it before, I'll say it again, good grief!

Bikes And Bike People No. 3: David And His Raleigh Superbe.

When I asked David if he would allow me to take a picture of him and his bicycle his first reaction was 'what for?' His accent, gruff attitude and his Bolton Wanders shirt marked him as a fellow Northerner.
When he realised I to was from the North the shields came down and we got on like a house on fire.

David came by his Raleigh Superbe after he had his bicycle stolen from outside a pub.
He asked a chap he knew, who lived across the street from the pub, if he could borrow the bike to get home.  The bike's then owner said he could keep it.

The bike is original save for the front wheel. David found a replacement at ReCycle Bike Shop in Surbiton, Surrey.

I wanted to ask him about how he used the bike on a day to day basis but he asked me where I came from. I told him and it turns out he knew the area very well having been at boarding school in Ripon. He then asked me if I knew anyone called Swires. I knew most of the Swires family and the Hardcastles and the Scofields and the Sherstones and then list went on and on.
We spent a whole hour chatting.

Nice bike, nice bloke.

An Offer It's Difficult To Refuse.

I received this invitation on Sunday.
I have highlighted the sentence that, I believe,  may cause 'difficulty'.

Dear Everyone,

 

Be it known by these presents that there will be a dwyle flunking match between the East Grinstead Hash House Harriers, who describe themselves as a drinking club with a running problem, and The Lewes Arms on Sunday 29th August at Plumpton Agricultural College, Ditchling Road, near Lewes, BN7 3AE starting promptly at 2.30 p.m. The match is part of the celebrations for the Harriers' 1000th Run Weekend.

 

There is free beer for musicians. If you would like to play, let me know so that we get an idea of numbers.

 

For those who have forgotten the full horror of the activity, a summary of the rules:

 

'This ancient and almost mystical sport requires two teams of twelve. They dress themselves in bucolic gear and their kit is inspected by the umpire before play begins. Points are deducted for poor turn-out, such as the absence of twirlers (string tied round trouser legs to keep rats out) and excessively flarksy weskits.

 

The first member of the batting side takes a position next to a bucket of carefully-matured beer in which is a swadger (broom handle) with a dwyle (bar towel) wrapped round the end. At a blast on the umpire's duck whistle, music strikes up and out desperately, and the members of the fielding team join hands and dance round the ‘Batsman’ (or woman) in a girter (circle). The Batsman dances round in the opposite direction. When the umpire blows again the dancing team must immediately stop, but must not break the girter. The Batsman must then flunk (flick) the dwyle at any member of the opposing team. Scoring is one point for a hit on the arms or legs, two for a hit on the body and three for a hit on the head. If they miss, they have to drink a pint straight down in less time than it takes the fielders to pass the swadger from hand to hand round the circle or lose a point. Musicians are protected by heavy fines from being splashed with stale beer and eligible for bribes in the form of free drinks.

 

The Batsman may be fined for hesitation; the fielders may be fined for breaking the circle or moving after the whistle. Anyone may be fined for intimidation. A Batsman who splashes the band or onlookers is fined. A side whose score is weak can improve it by bribing the umpire, scorer or the band with drink, gifts or sexual favours. One year every member of a Lewes Arms team gave the umpire a scented candle, so this is not necessarily as attractive as it might sound. Bribes are declared to the scorer and registered in the score book. At the end of the match the losing side may empty the bucket over the umpire.

 

 This is obviously a pagan survival which has evaded religious persecution by adopting a faintly Christian disguise. Students of folklore will recognize elements from the Grail legends: the Holy Spear, the vinegar-soaked rag and the vessel of bitter drink. The dancers in their circle echo the twelve apostles, but also the members of a coven. The Batsman is a sacrificial victim who spreads blessing in the form of a stylised asperging before being dispatched for the good of the community. The umpire's fate would have originally been ritual drowning, but appears to have been converted to stylised baptism in accordance with the practices of the more modern religion.'

If I Ruled The World No. 01: These Items Would Be Issued At Birth.

D.I.Y. (A Poem By O.S.M. B:52)

A D.I.Y. enthusiast set about a task.

Hammer, hammer, wop, thud.

Sod, damn, blast.

O.S.M. Ind. Protective Headgear.

How many times have you strolled through a public space or seated yourself on public transport, minding your own business, getting along, only to find yourself accosted by people you have never been introduced to wanting to share their trivial life-concerns with you?

This happens to me more often than I would like so, I have developed a stratagem to protect myself and out-wit buffoons who would waste my precious time.

O.S.M. Ind. Protective Headgear System

You will need:

01) A Sleeve from one of your partners long-sleeved t-shirts:

The length can vary but I generally cut from where the sleeve meets the body straight across thus leaving the t-shirt with a fashionable 'cap' sleeve. I then cut off the cuff.

02) A Red Elastic Band:

Not generally available to buy but, here in the U.K., magic pixies litter our streets with them.

Method:

Gather, or 'scrunch' up one end of the sleeve like so:

Keeping tight hold wrap the elastic band round and round the 'scrunch' (N.B. It is important to keep a firm grip of the fabric thus avoiding finger entanglement during this process).
Once finished it should look something like this:

The Finished Item:

I guarantee that wearing this hat in public will give you at least 6 feet (2m) of clear personal space.

Update:
I have found that applying spray starch helps to keep my protective head-gear pointy and perky.

As I Strode Out One August Morning.

On maps of the area, there is very little distance between Pagham Spit and Selsey:

View Larger Map
Except for that awkward gap between the spit and the Church Norton sand bar.
Unless you take a boat it means a long walk right around Pagham Harbour.

So, off I go.

7 a.m. is a good time to start a walk as everywhere seems deserted (except for the joggers and dog walkers) and anyone you do meet gives a cheery 'hello' or 'good morning'. I think the cut-off point for acknowledging fellow humans is around 9 a.m.

The stroll along the prom toward Aldwick is pleasant and gives me the opportunity to walk through Marine Gardens and admire my favourite shelter:

and the human sundial:

Which I can't use because of the lack of sunshine.

From the gardens to Pagham Spit is an energy sapping trudge along the shingle beach where I spot some feral shoes:

Feral shoes have been a bit thin on the ground this season but this is obviously a newly escaped and possibly breeding pair.

Just down the beach from the shoes there laid the body of a man surrounded by empty beer cans.
I have spared him his dignity by not photographing him. I do hope he wasn't dead.

I walk along the beach past the ferocious warning signs that tell me to keep out of the private enclaves of The Craigwell and Aldwick Bay.
Robert Smith (out of The Cure) lives on Alwick Bay but I didn't see any sign of him. Perhaps he's a late riser.
It takes me 2 hours to stumble to the shanty-town area of Pagham.

I like this area though it's full of holiday homes and people engaged in tearing down the shanties and building the dream homes that will eventually get washed into the sea.

Now begins the long walk around Pagham habour.
I stop at the north wall.  At first I was attracted by the swans gliding back and forth, then I notice a sort of 'boiling' nearby that must have been, judging by all the fins breaking the surface, a school of fish.
I spotted a twitcher and began to worry that I may be disturbing whatever he had his sights trained on.

I moved on.

All the benches dotted around the harbour seem to be dedicated to dead twitchers which didn't put me off having a sit-down-stare-into-space.  Something I find myself doing with alarming regularity of late.
The tide-line around the harbour is filled with the ghosts of tiny crabs:

I wanted to take this dead crab home but as soon as I tried to put in my pocket it turned to dust and blew away.

Although I'd taken plenty of water with me I'd drunk it all by the time I was on the outskirts of East Beach and found very difficult not to take advantage of this opportunity to refresh myself:

It was outside my 'dream home':

I finished my walk in the Lifeboat pub (miserable barmaid). It had taken me just over 4 hours to reach Selsey and half way down a pint of Timothy Taylor's bitter I made the decision to get the bus home.

Bikes And Bike People No. 2 Jean And Her Raleigh Twenty

I met Jean wheeling her trusty Raleigh Twenty along the shingle near Aldwick Bay.
Jean bought her bike at a car boot sale for £20 three years ago and uses it as her everyday transport.

Car Boot Book Fest.

I went to Fontwell Car Boot Sale today.
I had £2.50 in my pocket and intended getting as many things as I could carry back to the car.
On arriving and wandering down the first row I passed a stack of real rubbish owned by a guy loudly encouraging people to take anything they wanted for free.

I wrestled myself through to the stack of stuff and found these books:

Flights Into The Future was published in 1948.
It's a mix of speculative discussions about the possibility of manned space flight and S/F fiction stories of the time.
It's hilarious and I intend serialising a couple of the stories with illustration here very soon.

Hobbies New Annual must date from around the same period.
Here are some of the stand-out projects:

VII:      Transparent Mysteries
XI:       A Home Cinema Projector
XVII:   Chemical Amusements
XIX:    X-Ray Photographs At Home
XXIII: Home-made Fireworks

I'll be posting all the above here in the coming weeks.

Auction News.

The above is a picture of a 1949 Delahaye Type 175 Roadster that once belonged to Diana Dors.
Only 51 of these cars were ever made.
It's up for auction on August 15th here

If anyone reading this buys it would there be any chance of taking me for a spin in it?

The Big Round Rusty Metal Thing.

Linda and I have a way of admitting to one another that we may have spent money we could use to buy things we need on something that we don't need.
We say 'I've done a bad thing' then detail the impulse spending.

It was Linda's turn today.

She's bought a big round rusty metal thing.
Now ask yourself,  could you be miffed at someone who spent part of the house-keeping cash on such a wonderful item?

The guy she bought it from thinks it was intended for use as a drain cover.
As it's around 3 feet across it must have been a very big drain!

Linda thinks it could be used to cover a fire-pit which, in turn, means I have to dig through 18 inches of concrete to make her dream come true.

I think I'd rather make it into a table.

Bikes And Bike People: No. 1 err... Didn't Catch His Name.

As I wander about the local area I notice certain bicycles.
Not the over-engineered uber-machines but the everyday examples of human transport.
Rusty, (usually) hand re-painted, slow, steady and reliable.
Their condition tends to reflect their owners.

Here's my first example:

Seen in London Road Bognor is 90 year old errr,
I'm kicking myself for not asking him his name, unforgivably rude of me.
The bicycle is a Raleigh Superbe probably a 1970's model going by the lighting and brakes. Hand painted the same green as his shed.

I'm now off in search of the other 'out-sider' cyclists that haunt the by-ways of Bognor Regis.
Especially the guy that rides the metallic green Raleigh Twenty.

The 'Dobson' Sit-Up-On. (Updated)

Much as my behind loves the enormous bouncy Lepper saddle I fitted to the 'Dobson' it must be said/has been pointed out that it is very heavy (approx 2.2 Kg).

I decided to invest, and invest is the correct word, in a Brooks B17 saddle.

It's as hard as a rock and just about perfect.
During a short test ride I noticed that all the squeaks and creaks have disappeared and the whole machine has a more 'positive' feel about it.

In my opinion it's improved the look of the bike no end.

 Now all I have to do is ride it for about 20,000 miles and it should begin to 'break-in' nicely.

Update:

Having ridden around 12 miles on the new saddle it has become obvious to me that I'm going to have to reinforce my gusset.

Cheering Myself Up.

When ever I find myself down in the dumps I turn to Eric and Ernie.



and,



I feel much better now.