Only in London?

On the forecourt of Euston station there is something that might, with courtesy, be called a mini-food court - i.e. there are wooden tables with benches and a few kiosks selling coffee, doughnuts, and other junk food.

Today, among the backpackers, families, and hoodies, there were two Chelsea Pensioners sitting in their full regalia, scarlet coats, etc, having a cuppa.

One of them with a distinct resemblance to Roger Livesey in The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp.

Same old story....

Seen in a review of Marybeth Hamilton's In Search of the Blues: Black voices, white visions:

When record companies first marketed race records - music by and for blacks - the singers were women: Mamie Smith and her Hot Jazz Titans, Ma Rainey, Ida Cox, Victoria Spivey, Alberta Hunter. According to Hamilton, "nearly every work of blues history" dismisses these women as "popularisers, not folk singers". They did not count as "the real black voice".

She did it, but it wasn't The Real Thing....

Rather a mixed day

As in, not only had to work Saturday, but, because of server stuff being done over the weekend, various of our systems were either not working, or being very flakey, and actually getting into the part of Library where I needed to be involved far more of a performance than I need on a Saturday morning.

And having carefully put something on a memory stick so that I could work on it, the machine at the desk decided it Was Not Talking to it. I eventually managed a work-around, but this was all a bit annoying.

Plus, LJ went away! Waaaaaah!

On the upside, had an agreeable evening at home watching Neverwhere. (I suspect 'Secret Londons' is probably one of my bulletproof kinks.)