grumpyf1

I don’t want to spoil your dinner if you’re trying to avoid Donald Trump’s inauguration as US President.  But if you’ve just fired up the cooker to warm up some baked beans, the fact that they’re shiny and orange won’t help. In case you’ve somehow failed to notice, ‘The Donald’ gets the keys to the White House today, much to the immense bewilderment of a large chunk of the UK. Putting to one side whether he’s actually suitable for the job (tricky, I know), I’ve been amused and appalled (in roughly equal measures) by his petulant outbursts on Twitter, as well as in the flesh. He does seem intent on offending and alienating as many people as possible, doesn’t he? It took me a while to figure it out, but I think I’ve finally nailed who he reminds me of. He is every tired, grumpy, little brother, added together. When you try to say he’s trodden mud into the house, he responds with “No YOU trod it in, and you should clean it up! Dirty!” Or you point out that there’s an unpleasa

A Pacer train. A nightmare on (too few) wheels. A time traveller could be forgiven for thinking they had mistakenly landed in the wrong century, if they hopped on a local train service in parts of Cumbria. I spend a large amount of my time waiting for Northern trains to arrive. Not because I actually want to catch one (more on that shortly), but because I’m waiting for the ever-lovely Mrs G to arrive. True, sitting in the car is an excellent opportunity to catch up on Twitter, the news and weather, sport, read a book, read the car manual or gaze into the middle distance. Theoretically, a quick shufti at the first item on that list should be interrupted by the choo-choo turning up. Unfortunately, it’s more likely to be the another read of the section on checking the oil level, or even contemplating the ingredients on a discarded sweet wrapper, so often are the trains delayed. So far, so bad. Still – at least once you’re on-board, everything should be OK, right? Comfortable, li

What goes around spins right round, baby, right round, as record sales soared in 2016. Is vinyl back? Side One In 2014, I started the New Year with a column about the impenetrable sadness of finally retiring my record collection. True, they are still in boxes under the bed, but then the turntable is in a box in the cellar, and my amp... good question, actually. A man should always know where his amplifier is and I have failed. Bad human. It seems I might need to get them all together again, if I want to prove that I’m still deeply cool and in touch with the mood of the time. Why? Because sales of vinyl albums went up by 53% last year, compared to 2015. 1991 was the last time more 12” circular black things were sold. Vinyl is back and flourishing. David Bowie was the year’s biggest seller, with The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac and Prince rubbing grooves with Nirvana, Amy Winehouse and Radiohead in the top 10. I have already been a style icon once (I single-handedly made donkey jac