Graffiti

No idea what it is and I didn't notice it when I took the shot but kept it in as it looks like a logo. Regular readers might remember why I go to this particular place; it's to see Ian and the guys at my friseur. I was chatting with a friend the other day, someone who lives in the Americas, and she mentioned that she generally gets her hair attended to in the UK because the local people cannot do it properly. As a bloke my considerations are more prosaic; Will there be a queue? Will it be cheap? Will it take long? I can't see the outcome so I'm generally not that fussed and I don't stipulate a straight-neck or tapered or any of that exciting stuff. When asked what I want I generally invite the cutter to "do the voodoo that you do so well". I've been getting my hair cut by these guys for the best end of 25 years. There was a gap when I lived in Bishopsbourne and I would sometimes hang with the hip young things of Buzz when I worked in East Grinstead but this is the main place for my coiffure. Travelling 3,500 miles for a haircut? Catch yourself on!

Back to the image. Those who know me know that I have no imagination but a great memory for song lyrics. It's limited, rubbish on the latest from 1D or Bieber but I can often find a Dylan or Bowie or Steely Dan bon mot. And the name of this road will always lead to 


Up on Cripple Creek she sends me
If I spring a leak she mends me
I don't have to speak, she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one


(Robinson, 1969)


You'll know it if you know it and if you don't you'll find it easy enough :-)

And this road actually leads to the wonderfully named Teasaucer Hill. There is also a Bottlescrew Hill near here and as I type this I'm thinking that there is probably a whole handful of blips in local road names!