What would you do with a lottery win? With several million pounds in your wallet? I've heard this question asked time and time again. Many people actually tell me they want to be generous and give everyone they like a huge wad of the winnings. Perhaps, but I'm a little too cynical to believe I'm that likeable.

Anyhow, Young L, the museums resident football player, was discussing that very question today with the backroom crew. His preferred course of action is to buy a Bowler Wildcat (for those unacquainted with Top Gear, the Bowler Wildcat is a high performance dirt racer). His little eyes glazed over at the thought of it. Bless. I guffawed and told he'll sell it a week afterward.

"No no no" he insisted, "it'll outperform a porsche turbo. A hundred and sixty five miles an hour top speed, way cool, gotta have one!"

Which is all very true, but where can you actually drive at a hundred and sixty miles an hour these days? Out-accelerating porsche turbo's at the lights isn't going to impress the police either.

"Yeah, but you just leave them behind" He dribbled with adolescent glee.

He's probably right, but unfortunately the police are somewhat more organised than that, communicate with each other by radio, and if all else fails knock on your front door the following day. Young L began to realise the idiocy of his chosen fantasy vehicle. I further crushed his ambition by pointing out it wasn't a practical road vehicle anyway.

Of course when I was younger I had similar tendencies, mostly involving ferrari's, but then I didn't listen to anyone. As for young L, I do hope he doesn't win the lottery. I can't bear the thought of all the other museum staff driving around in Bowler Wildcats.

Window Shopping

I wonder how many times you've ever passed a shop window and seen something unusual? That happened the other day. In the shop front of a shopping centre premises was a full set of Roman legionary armour, tunic, and shield, tastefully displayed on a tailors dummy more accustomed to razor sharp suits in the latest styles.. Wow. You don't see that every day.

Would I buy it? Well, I'll be honest, there's a part of me that would, just for a wheeze. Thankfully on this occaision commonsense prevailed and I carried on about my business. However, just in case you thought I was going to be completely sensible, the local pawnbrokers shop was further down the road. Usually I don't spare it a second glance, but that electric blue guitar caught my eye. Fatal.

No, you can't afford it, Caldrail. Cheap price or not, it's an expensive luxury and you can't afford it. Or maybe I can? maybe there's some way of digging enough cash out of my wallet to let that guitar become my property... Some day, it will be mine... Oh yes...

Five minutes later I harassed the staff to let me inspect the instrument. Looks okay to me. Here. Here you go. Here's my life savings.

"Ooooh" Said the lady behind the desk in suprise as she placed the guitar on the counter, "This is a heavy one!"

Stop talking and do more selling please. Finally our financial transaction was done. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and asked if she had a paper bag I could put it in. And it wasn't even April Fools Day! I had to stop her fruitless search behind the counter. Bless. As it happens it turns out to be something of a bargain. Good condition, full bodied tone, plays well, and mine for a third of the recommended retail price.

I have become a musical bigamist. Sell this little beauty the week afterward? Oh no.... No no no... Hmmmmm....