Met friend Johnny on the train today. There is usually someone I know waiting for the train down to London: we all seem to have developed an unwritten protocol, whereby you have a chat, then get down to work on the train, bit more chat around Grantham, then on into London in time to gawp at the amazing Emirates stadium and the disappearing Highbury.
Last week I met Nick and we had time to get a pizza before boarding the interminably delayed 20.00 train back to York. On the train I sat opposite a guy who is writing a book on Schumpeter [an economist who coined the concept of a “gale of creative destruction”]. I rather undermined by MBA credentials by asking if Schumpeter was “that bloke who wrote about wind”.
The photo is of
Bunhill Fields in London, the non-conformist graveyard.
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