The really bad thing about this weather we’ve been having – what I like to refer to as a 'normal' summer – is other people’s music.
I am resolutely old school when it comes to what I listen to. I can manage a big slice of The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff doing Summertime, although my heart prefers anything like Small Faces or Marlena Shaw doing California Soul.
Even what I am listening to is pretty irrelevant at the moment because the two cars I drive the most don’t have radios. I have an aerial on the Mini Cooper but it makes such a wonderful old racket and I would rather listen to that. The Land Rover is just as cacophonous, but the cheap radio overheated so much I unplugged it and threw it away.
Which brings me to my point. Recently I was at the traffic lights next to a Mercedes-Benz CLK that was playing rather filthy, sweary music.
Isn’t gangster rap a breach of the peace? I’ve never heard so many cuss words in the space of a minute. One of the words I heard from his stereo recently got a radio DJ sacked and a TV motoring presenter publically hung out to dry for not actually broadcasting them.
I was rather shocked. The gentleman, who just had to have all the car windows open, didn’t care that fragile old people like me and delicate young minds could listen to his rubbish.