War seems to loomed large on the television screens of late. Not just the tragic deaths of six british servicemen in Afghanistan, or the equally tragic killing spree of an american NCO, or even the revelations of terrible things that happened in the Libyan Revolt or are happening now in the Syrian troubles. It was also wars of times past.

The usual war films are playing regularly in the afternoons. Brave british chaps stiffening their upper lips in the north african desert, or americans freezing theirs off in the Ardennes winter. But I've seen all those before. I did see one interesting film, a drama based on a jewish breakout from a death camp based on real events. It looked very realistic as opposed to the often pantomime appearance that production costs often dictate in other films.

Then last night I saw the meeting of a british and argentine veteran who were both involved in the same action during the Falklands War. I just knew it was going to get emotional - let's be honest, the programme makers ensured it would be - but there was something very admirable about two men who had tried to kill each other in their youth finally lay their ghosts to rest, if not their political viewpoints, and walk away good friends.

It did leave me with a number iof emotions. Sadness for those who died so needlessly and sympathy for those they left behind. Envy for those who can cast aside their past for a better future. But then... back in 1982, neither side actually hated the other. A war of necessity perhaps. A part of me will always believe that hatred is the common enemy.

Another Sunny Day

Yet another sunny morning to enjoy. Yesterday I wandered around the local park, astonished at the bare earth policy of the grounds keepers who seem determined to reduce the recently opened path around the lake to a representation of a world war one shellshocked landscape.

Pigeons, as usual, gathered around any hint of breadcrumbs. Seabirds whirled noisily around the lake waiting to pounce on hint of a pigeon fleeing with more than his fair share. Swans gently floating by here and there, waiting for any hint of that goose they don't like to turn up.

Then my attention was drawn to a solitary bumblebee. Quite a rare sight as it happens, bit there it was, silently buzzing from blossom to blossom on the nearby tree. I dunno, sometimes something so insignificant grabs your attention for no apparent reason. It just seeemed to suit the mood. Relaxed, everyone minding their own business, just enjoying another spring day.

Chorus Of The Week

It appears that my whinging about late night football songs has taken root. I've been informed that on the weekend a bunch of slightly happy inebriated football-philes passed my house with a loud and cheery rendtion of New York, New York, It's a wondeful town....

great to see that some of the locals are trying to raise the cultural level of Swindon to new heights, even if it does require a large slice of Broadway. Sorry I missed the performance guys, but I can't be everywhere at once. Hey - that's show business.