Suspicious

The word ‘suspect’ has certain connotations, and they are almost always negative. “I loved the hotel, but the food was suspect.” “The salesman’s behaviour aroused much suspicion.” “The woman has been declared a suspect in the inquiry.”

There is a very high-profile missing-person enquiry unfolding on all channels of our media at the moment. It is now assumed, in the minds of most people following the story, that the person in question is almost certainly dead. Strangely, in these cases, evidence is very thin on the ground. A family holiday resort without CCTV?

What I find most interesting is that the country in which these events are unfolding has a system whereby certain legal rights are not granted to anyone involved in the case unless they agree to be labelled as a ‘suspect’ in the case. It couldn’t happen in the UK. Our papers are only too keen to hang, draw and quarter any self-declared suspect in such a grizzly affair. Perhaps there is cause for re-think of this use of language? 2 people are already branded, and another will almost certainly follow towards the end of today.

Prepare the gallows.

Motivation

Laziness is a very ugly characteristic to have. When I look at it objectively, I have probably been guilty of it over the last few months. Buying ready-made sandwiches instead of making my own. Getting out of bed at the last possible moment. Not actively seeking places to play my guitar. Leaving songs lyric-less.

Over the last few days, I’ve started to rectify this. I played a gig last night, will represent a 5-a-side team tonight after booking a holiday, will write some lyrics tomorrow and jet over to Reading to record them on Saturday. This is a far more entertaining schedule.

It looks like Sheffield could be my next port of call in terms of places to live. Having spent extended periods in Bolton, Newcastle, Gifu and London, it seems right that there should be a move on the cards, and Sheffield is looking likely. There’s a course in journalism for graduates based there, and it could fit the bill very nicely. I just need to stop being so lazy and get the application process under way.

Home?

This weekend I went back to my home town. I’ve lived in London for the past year and it’s a great place to be. Comparing London to my hometown would be similar to setting up a boxing bout between Mike Tyson and Cliff Richard. There’s only going to be one winner on paper.

Having said that, some people like Cliff Richard. Don’t ask me why- it’s almost certainly impossible to fathom- but they do. Similarly, I like my hometown. It’s the people there, mainly, but also the reassuring stability of the place; nothing really seems to change, and that’s nice.

I may be leaving London soon. Not back to my hometown, but certainly in its direction. I think I like the fact that nothing seems to change back home because I never seem to stay in the same place, mentally or physically, for more than a year at a time. It’s comforting to know that some things do.