H is for…Hero

In my world, every now and then, the wheels come off the truck.  Never mind changing the tyres…it usually involves the sort of experiences that make you want to hibernate under the duvet until the world ends and we all end up as flesh eating Zombies. Given last week’s events, becoming one of the undead is looking like a favourable option.  But I digress…

I wanted to dedicate this blog to heroes.  It came to me as I was running down the fairway along the beach.  Running is usually a good source of inspiration for the blog, so I was surprised that heroes popped into my head…Well, it may have had something to do with the tall ship moored in Sandwich Bay…You know, swashbuckling pirates and fantasies of Johnny Depp!  But I digress…

As the running gave way to wheezing, I started wondering what had happened to all of the heroes. Where are they? Those square-jawed, muscle-bound men who rescue damsels in distress and still manage to make it back to the office!   Men who combine witty repartee with rippling physique. And yes, for those of you who know me well…they must have their own hair and teeth!  Though at this point in the run…anyone with a stretcher and a champagne drip would have sufficed!

Perhaps I have been asleep in my own tower for far too long… it’s quiet, but I keep finding legumes under the mattress. Still, I digress… When I look around and wimpy, weedy, iffy men have suddenly assumed primacy…well, in the UK anyway – that is the only explanation for Simon Amstell and that twit boy in plaid who presents T4… So, I’ve decided it’s time to do a Bonnie Tyler.  It’s a hero with hearts and flowers or nothing for this particular princess.

Killer App…

I love my ipod Touch.  Not only can I load all of the 500 CDs I own onto this small object of beauty, I have discovered a new source of pleasure. Apps!  Who knew there were so many ways to channel one’s inner geek…

I sail, so I have the ‘Tidal prediction’ App, which shows tide tables for every known port in the world.(You never know when your ship might come in, but I’m holding out for the Bahamas). And I’m a practical kinda gal so I have the ‘Spirit level’ App (Yes, that would be my Virgo tendencies emerging). Of course the ‘Measurement conversion’ App really does sort the Dicks from the Toms and Harries.(Gosh darling, didn’t realise 6 centimetres was the same in inches!)

Actually, after recent romantic misadventures, I’d like to see the istore create the ‘Manometer’.  This is an App which emits a loud warning siren when you are in close proximity to a narcissistic egomaniac who thinks he’s god’s gift to womankind. Works just the same for habitual philanderers! And, it comes preloaded with a ringtone that sounds curiously like your mobile phone, allowing you to exit stage left when the dire conversation makes you want to stick needles in your eyes rather than continue smiling through gritted teeth. Handily, this App can also scan any prospective romantic interest and tell you whether he’s all mouth and no trousers, or whether the attributes match the patter. Now that really is an App to die for…