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I was walking. Now, I'm not considered the most apt walker in the world. I tend to do it quite a lot, but I seem to have inordinate amounts of trouble with uneven flagstones, fellow pedestrians, inanimate objects, even flagstones, walking in a straight line, 'phone booths (which could probably be considered inanimate objects, although I have been hit by a swinging door or two, which, to me, is animated), dogs, rollerbladers, pigeons (I don't know if you've ever stepped on a pigeon... no, not on purpose, like you intended to squash it like you may have tried when you were a child (demonic little child). Pigeons stepped on accidentally in the middle of walking through a relatively pigeon-cluttered area (like London), when you're not necessarily expecting to step on a pigeon (though you soon learn to always be ready in case your next step's happened to have been directly on the back of a pigeon. This may cause you to have a slightly off-balance gait, but it's worth being prepared, trust me.). They don't like it. Or if they do, they show it by getting terribly excited, flapping their wings a surprising amount (as you'd expect wings to flap, you've seen it happen before, or at least have heard stories, but when they're flapping and happen to be attached to the undersole of your shoe it's a slightly different experience, decidedly unlike watching a bird, plane, or other winged creature take to the air). So, by the sheer force of wings flapping directly upwards, the space which your foot, in the grand physical scheme of things, happens to occupy, the rather sharp pecking that goes on when the pigeon figures out the physical law in which two things can't occupy the same space, even if you really really want them to, and it's solution is to peck the hell out of the thing that's occupying the space it'd like to occupy, or at least making the claim to the space being part of it's own "personal space", which it would prefer relatively unviolated, so if you could kindly remove the thing of yours that happens to be in that airspace, we could all get on reasonably well, assuming, of course, you can manage to get the beak unstuck from your foot at some point in the near future. Anyway, the result is that yourself, the walker, whom had been possibly happy, walking along with the ground behaving as it should (anyone living in Los Angeles is, of course, excused from the remainder of the issue), being stable and hard, which may have crossed your mind, if you weren't being terribly successful at walking well, when it suddenly begins behaving like a mad pigeon, or, to use other, more universal, less direct similes, like one of the dodgy floors in a funhouse that are a deliberate attempt to get you to fall all over anyone else who happens to inhabit the funhouse at the same time as yourself (see Olivia Newton John) or, to use another, less universal simile, begins behaving like you've stepped on jellied candy, a whole lot of jellied candy. On the whole, not a comfortable experience. Despite the similarities to walking on jellied candies.), and stones.

However, that day I didn't step on a pigeon. And I only walked into one rollerblader. And possibly tripped on a kerb. But that was because I was distracted.

This will be continued...

disclaimer:
I've also discovered this week that my musical sensibilities are somewhat less hip than they may have once been. Or at least starting to lag behind desperately. Guess it's time to start hitting Muse again.

If you, someone you know, or Andrew Lloyd Webber would like to license Sane Magazine issue titles for your next musical, please contact our licensing department. Our representatives will be happy to hum out a few tunes that we think would make excellent numbers for certain titles, at no extra charge. (The humming, of course, is available telephonically, in wav files, or mp3 format.)