well it makes you think...

[Sweder]

Now the proud owner of a set of FiveFingers KSO 'offroaders', though darned if I can see any discernable advantage on the soles. The upper foot is covered by airiated webbing (the 'sprint/ road' versions are more open, a la ballet shoe style).

Road test set for tomorrow morning, 1 mile max (more likely it'll be less).
Reports here first, and on twitter (@sweder).

Have to say first impressions (admittedly still in the shop) favourable. It does feel like you're barefoot only with heavily caloused pads on the fore-sole and heel. I'm not convinced they're going to handle random sharp stones/ flint terribly well, but most other obstacles should be OK.

Well, you only live once ...

Unrelated news (apart from the FF outlet being in Islington) I opted for a liquid luncheon at the Hope & Anchor. The H&A was host to some of the finest punk-era bands - Stranglers, Specials, Jam, Ian Drury & The Blockheads et al - in the late seventies.

I was lucky enough to win tickets on a radio show back in the day (1977) - Your Mother Wouldn't Like It, late evenings on Capital Radio, DJ one 'Little' Nicky Horne - and trotted off to the Big City for a life-changing night. That night I crammed my slender frame in with 200 bouncing, sweating souls to see the Stranglers crank out one of the most feverish sets of Rhythm & Blues/ Pop-Rock in history. A live recording, taken for broadcast by Capital Radio, made its way onto a free EP issued with the first x-thousand copies of Black & White (the Stranglers' 3rd album). My dubious claim to fame is the rebel yell featured on the intro to 'Tits' was in fact mine.

Sitting here now on a scarred, heavily-stained wooden bar-stool, the daylight-infused main bar empty save a few snap-happy tourists and an ecclectic selection of wall posters young and old, the memories of that night come flooding back. The raw energy, pure and, as yet, unadulterated excitement of those heady times lingering like ectoplasm around the recently (post-smoking ban) decorated cornices. I engaged the barman in some reflective banter before buying him a pint, whereupon he stuck on a selection of fabulous audio nostalgia; early Jam, Ramones (I wanna be sedated), Stranglers, Tenpole Tudor (Swords of a Thousand Men) ... who knows what's next?

Chances are I won't make it back to the office this afternoon ...