A LA RECHERCHE DU TEMPS PERDU *
(* For those of you whose idea of learning French was smoking Gitanes behind the shed du bicyclette this pretty much translates as "I Remember Yesterday Like It Was Yesterday". Actually that's not true: it's the name of a book by Marcel Proust which is so long and boring that no-one has ever read it. There's thousands of pages and Proust admitted he regularly fell asleep while writing it. It's about a girl called Madeleine who drowned in a cup of tea, which made Proust very sad. And a bit sleepy) I miss the old days. They were so much better. And they lasted longer. Not like these cheap and nasty days you buy in shops nowadays. An afternoon started around lunchtime and went well into the early evening. I remember an afternoon back in the eighties that seemed to go on forever. This may have been at a Neil Young concert but that's beside the point. Everything was better back then. You could smoke everywhere. On planes, in restaurants, in the shower...