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Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.321 24 Jun 2021
First published: Version m5.007 17 Oct 2017
Content updated to include more articles: Version m5.304 15 May 2020
Earliest articles: Dated from Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
2021 website updates [see website page for full details]: Version m5.321 24 Jun 2021

February 2021

Buying Time

I missed out on Bitcoin. I remember when it was at an early stage, around 2011, a curiosity in technical articles and I was intrigued by the idea. I wasn't confident enough in computer programming to work it myself and would have had to use a third party to purchase some but I did have an amount of spare money I could risk so I thought of trying. I even discussed the idea with my wife and recall talking of trying out a £500 risk. At the time that would have bought me a fair number of Bitcoin, around 3,000 if I recall correctly. The real problem was the lack of knowledge of how to do that. It functioned on a Windows PC system and my own PC had been getting old by then and I had already migrated to using an Apple device. Traditional routes such as banks were not available to use. The only sellers were unknown to me.

When Bitcoin returned to the news again, such as when I first heard of Laszlo Hanyecz buying a couple of actual pizzas for ₿10,000, I was pleased I hadn't paid out five hundred quid for the equivalent of a pizza slice, no matter how tasty it may have been. However this was the first purchase of actual, physical goods but Bitcoin had been generally weaving its own path, trading and rising for services amongst reprobates particularly on the dark web and the subsequent value climbed and climbed, fallen then climbed again. I didn't like the sound of trading with people in the dark with the real potential to become prey to criminals, so once more I didn't invest.

Had I bought the first coins I considered and then had I kept them, an unlikely probability given their often meteoric rises, my portfolio from such a £500 investment back then would be worth around £45m now. Or about seventy five billion per pizza. It seems I may have missed out on this one because of my valid concerns about values going down as well as up.

The same happened on other occasions. For instance, when I read of more technical or specialist news regarding other embryonic cryptocurrencies including the second one issued, Lifecoin in 2011. Again I thought of investing but faltered due to the potential prospect that mainly they were not Bitcoin leaving me wondering whether the market would surely only need just one cryptocurrency. Again I didn't know who I was dealing with, knew that these markets seemed highly risky and anyway, surely the bubble of growth is about to burst. And have subsequently lost out on every opportunity in this field since.

Even as recent as a few weeks ago, on news of more Bitcoin trading reports going up to record levels once more then settling back down again I was considering perhaps spending a sum on buying a small stake in every known cryptocurrency available in a spread bet on the suspicion that even if most of them faltered the probability was that one or two may rise enough to counter any loss. I would have been risking my investment so would only gamble what I could afford to loose. But I didn't. However, shortly thereafter there was the situation with GameStop being over egged by early speculators via Reddit which took traction, sending values through the roof and inspiring thousands of small investors clamouring to invest via micro investing stock market Apps, which then encouraged major mainstream traders to join in the stupidly overvalued rising mini bull market. Then, inevitably, the Apps were pulled creating a sudden distrust in the main stream stock market by all the micro investors and a subsequent rush by some into cryptocurrencies driving these currencies up an average 20% more. I really should trust my instincts. But again caution held me back.

In reality I only want to participate in such a trust based market if I can be in at the beginning, fully understand how it works and where it offers reasonable protection against criminality. I am not educated enough in complex computer programming to start and develop a new cryptocurrency that I can be in at the tier one level so have to think outside the box to come up with something that I could actually make work for me by making it work for you. I think I may have the answer but I will need some time.

Thankfully for me history has already provided this and it has been patiently waiting for me to market it all. After all it has lain unclaimed up to now and I formally stake my claim on it all. Plus because time is limited and only progressing slowly it could become ever more valuable plus it is also easily divisible into commonly recognisable and simple to understand divisions and so become marketable units. Allow me to explain.

Now that I own time, or at least the notion of it as understood by us all, I shall put an initial value on every year since year 1. And to date we have 2021 years since then. If you are not clear on my mathematics here check your calendar. I will value each year at, say, £100 and you are welcome to buy from me as many as you want or can afford until all the years are sold. I will obviously invest in a couple of years myself and give away some more to family members plus a few as gifts for worthy causes or for marketing purposes etc but most will be available to buy. Let's say 2000 of them. At £100 each I will personally gain £200,000 before tax. Well I did come up with the idea.

So why would you buy these years from me? Well, simply because you might be able to sell them on for more. Which is why we invest after all. To speculate. Just think, all those who own years, including myself, will have great incentive to help drive up their value. All you need to get payback is subdivide your own year and sell the individual components for more overall than you paid upfront. Let's say you divided your year by, what shall we go for?, I know, days. You have 365 units to sell and could price them howsoever you wished, but lets say you choose to sell your days at £100 each. With a potential gross return of £36,500 at that valuation. For each of the years that you originally bought.

And naturally as momentum builds all those next level day keepers will turn to subdividing their days and selling off their hours. Why? Because by then these will now be recognised off grid trading devices much like cryptocurrency units are now and consequently likely have a market based trading value. Particularly as the price each time is set by the seller and the market now limited in supply.

The great news is that up until this point the majority of the investors would likely be up on their deal. The others may have less potential to make more but will have a trading currency outside of mainstream banking

And then comes 2022. And I will sell that too or issue days in that year all of which could share the same excitement and newsworthiness as finding new bitcoins do now.

The mathematics mean that in truth it is unlikely that each year, day and hour would be fairly equal in value. I used the £100 examples as a guide to represent how each sector would return on the risk. At first I suspect it would be expected that a year would be worth roughly 365 times the value of a day and so on but as interest grew speculators should quickly realise the advantages of getting in early and subsequently drive the market naturally up across each division. With the higher tier levels containing the most lower tier units they would naturally be the most coveted. That year you initially invested in could be worth quite a lot more than you paid for it if you held on to it because there will only initially be 2021 of them.

At present this is just at the idea stage. No business has been set up, no © formally registered. No securing of any trademarks and no website. This will only transpose to an actual thing if enough interest is shown.

I should set out a way to show how I envisage it would all work in principle, which would basically amount to these few rules shown below. Please note these are guide lines and have not been legally checked to ensure the correct phrasing so must be considered proposals at this time issued with good intent

  • It shall be known as Thyme [a working title for the purposes of this idea] or a similar name registered as a legal business and chosen to facilitate an easily discovered url where initial transactions take place, a name reserved for a future App if that is wanted and various social media sites
  • It must be a legal system. I do not want to create an underclass system that people are afraid to deal in. It should be transparent and open within reason yet subject to privacy plus any tax due on any gains must be paid by the seller
  • Any investment can be a risk and no recompense will be made due to not meeting expectations of performance. Caveat emptor
  • Thyme units shall be known as Years, for the top tier, then Days and Hours. The subdivision of which would match common understanding, i.e. a Year would consist of 365 Days or 366 in the case of a leap Year and a Day would be 24 Hours
  • The common place to go to check values and to confirm ownership, would be the Thyme url, initially maintained by me or the company I form to administer this, subsequently known as the Top Level Administrator and would have sole ownership rights of and control over issue or sale of the original top level Year time periods
  • Year zero or any negative year such as 1 BCE will never be issued which would ensure a limited supply of time units available
  • The minimal divisible unit will initially be the Hour, again to limit the supply of units available
  • Thyme units shall be fixed and only be traded whole or broken into their constituent parts. For example if you own a Day it can be traded whole with another person but once part of that Day, i.e. an Hour, is sold then it becomes a collective number of the Hours remaining, no longer a Day
  • Thyme units can be collated to form larger values only if the specific Thyme unit values are concurrent. For example you could purchase 24 separate Hours from up to 24 different sources but that will not become a Day unless each of those Hours are consecutive from the same day
  • There is no maximum or minimal value limit on any unit of Thyme
  • The value of any one unit at any given level shall not automatically alter the value of any other units of the same or any other level. This is a purely market driven system
  • There is no maximum limit to how many units of Thyme of any level that can be held by any individual, group of individuals or businesses
  • Administration costs at the year level will be borne by the Top Level Administrator. There shall be no fee in addition to the sell price for purchasing any original Year unit transaction. However, subsequent transactions of any Years will attract a 1% of traded value commission fee or a minimum of £10, whichever is greater, plus relevant taxes payable to the Top Level Administrator to cover database maintenance costs
  • Administration costs at the lower tier levels such as individual Years or Days will be borne by the original purchaser, who shall become a Level Admimistrator and they must be administered in accordance with the way described directly above. At the discretion of the Level Administrator similar updating fees may be applied on an individual basis. Any Year or Day Level Administrator should choose and declare such processing fees, as has been done in the paragraph above, in advance of selling
  • Owners of Hours are not Level Administrators
  • Level Administrators shall be responsible for maintaining accurate records of their units and subsequent sales until such time as they are fully dispersed of and then must maintain their transaction records for a minimum of seven years afterwards. This way buyers will only trust sellers if clear and accurate, historically traceable information is available
  • Subsequent years from year 2022 onwards will only become included in the system as they occur at 00:00 on 1st January of each year and shall immediately become owned by the Top Level Administrator. They can then be sold, gifted or broken into constituent Thyme parts at the discretion of the Top Level Administrator at the time of his choosing and in the manner in which he shall decide
  • The value of any Thyme unit and when it will be available will be soley market driven, either set by the seller and subsequently accepted or auctioned however-so the seller wished it to occur. For example, I, as the Top Level Administrator, shall decide when I will issue my Thyme Years for sale and at what price. As a result each buyer can then choose what their subsequent sell price is and when to sell
  • Ownership changes should be reported back to the Level Administrator for the particular unit level for verification to ensure records of ownership can be maintained

So how do I propose administration should work? As stated earlier my skills are not rounded enough to run a fully safe encrypted database, which would be needed if this took off due to its potential value and susceptibility to interference by computer savvy near do wells. So I have come up with a neat solution to recording legitimate ownership using readily available equipment which anyone could use. I will simply hand write the data down then scan it to distribute as a record, subject to data protection limitations.

I recognise your first thought may be that this method is fallible. After all scans can be manipulated by photo editing software. But this is the solution, the scan would be an oversized image with the scan data resting on a unique background, for instance a random newspaper sheet, then cropped to fit thus hiding the background. If there were any subsequent disputes in the data record the Level Administrator would be able to cross reference any disputed scans with the original.

The scanning idea came from the fact that when I scan a document with my smart phone it photographs the general area then automatically zooms in on the document. All very smart but never quite perfect. If I save it unedited the over scan may include some of the table I have placed it on and possibly my feet. Actually, usually, my overhanging belly but this is a detail you didn't need to know and I really must fix. I can correct the zoom more perfectly myself by dragging the scan perimeters more precisely and save it in a more cropped way but the original still retains the outermost details. This is the security needed to verify originality. In fact it is a common way of identifying expensive art copies. If a good fake is painted it can be made to look very much like the original but it would not have the same details that are wrapped around the framing rails and hidden by the outer frame.

Obviously there are other things that would need to be addressed such as data privacy issues but full legal compliance would be set in place to take care of this.

So are you interested? If so what are you going to offer me for a year of my Thyme? And which years would you choose to buy? Hint, leap years may be fractionally more valuable. And in case you are wondering I am keeping year one, my birth year and the year 2021 for myself, plus a handful of significant date years. See, the supply limitation is already happening so helping drive the value up.

I welcome any comments you have and if you wish to get this thing off the ground with me please make contact. If there is sufficient interest I'll update on this website first as soon as I set it up. So it could be a wise move for you to keep checking back for future updates

Why not take the Thyme and get onboard now?

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.320 1 Feb 2021

June 2020

June 2020

Lots Of Little Ideas - Part 2: Apps

Last month I introduced my series on 'little ideas', that is all my big ideas but in bite size form. I continue that theme here in this article where I provide a number of other little ideas but this time all with a similar theme. In this case, all my digital app ideas. So now they are in print and no longer hidden out of sight on my hard drive.

The usual caveats of copyright apply and I note that I believe each to be original in their concept having not seen any like these before. However I would note that on the iOS app store alone there are millions of app variations and I have no intention of checking through each one to check this. Let me know if you have seen or are using anything the same and I'll correct as required. Then feel proud that the concept I invented as well was indeed sound.

The App Ideas

Let's start with something silly. A toaster app for iPhone. It will be pointless and of course not work but your friends with Google Android phones won't know that when you turn it's dials to make the setting and watch as the bars glow 'hotter and hotter'. For the full fun effect ask them to get some bread and try it out. Variants will include the hot-plate, the ceramic hob and the five bar electric fire. Now what about getting sponsorship from a company like Dualit? If you think this is just too out there remember an early app on the iPhone was the larger drinking simulator. No beer but it was sponsored. And extremely popular

ValueMyStuff. A valuation site with sections for houses, automotive, furniture, tech, paintings, antiques, clothing, animals etc. Each item for valuation has a photo, condition percentages and links to sponsored 3rd party sellers and buyers sites. Ideal to get a value on that old watch in the cupboard or the rare toy car from childhood. Interactive ability to have viewers' stuff valued by the community

Short Films. Pitched between the might and mess of YouTube but with the quality and seriousness of Netflix. It would only have short films of up to 15 minutes, both professionally produced and amateur made providing they are of sufficient quality. Sections to include showcasing of new film producers, directors and talent. It would be a subscription model, say £2 per month with unlimited viewings

Mirror Drawing, a tablet app where you can draw one side of an object and the other side appears at the same time. Ideal for plans such as car, boat shapes etc.

Live Podcast Finder. An app showing when live worldwide podcasts are happening. Able to filter for favourite podcasts. Podcasters encouraged to input data. Possibly also other livestreaming events as well from YouTube, Instagram and Peppar as well

Car decorating. Photos or drawings of plain coloured cars provided with paint colouring tools to allow the user to customise at will. Would include options for two-tone, shading, metallic paints, graphics and crazy decals, which could be purchased, earned or sponsored for a race car look. The app would feature best user section where people rate their peers' efforts

Twitter grammar correction. Type in a Tweet and the app changes it to become more gramatically correct or even hip. Incorporating a range slider from Professor, through business like, cool, hip to phat. Plus in app purchases for cockney, Yoda, Data conversions as well

Collections. A photo collection service, e.g. Cars, trains, celebrities, sports stars. Collect photos into pre-set albums. Can purchase and trade content

Colourshift. Convert your own photos into component RGB with sliders to reconstruct or move around. Additional sliders for contrast, light etc

Clone camera. Make the display on your smartphone resemble the [top and] back of a serious DSLR camera. Not so useful if the clone you are copying doesn't have an LCD display

Averages. Before you check into a restaurant see the lowest, highest and average prices of the main meals. Would also convert nicely into an app that does other comparison items, such as cars

Gigging App. For bands and comics. The app can show where talent is performing on a particular date with links to booking websites etc. Perhaps a subscription model to include travel arrangements so car sharing can be accommodated

And finally a few Navigation or Map based Apps

En-route app which specifically highlights things en-route. Using a route selected from the your favourite Maps app. Find food, fuel, attractions etc. Better than the normal radius based systems

Retrace route function on Sat Navs

Petrol prices by location incorporating a calculator using your own vehicles mpg to assess whether it's worth diverting to get a better place to fill up

Train Sat-Nav. Not for the drivers, they know where they are going and cannot deviate off those parallel steel lines anyway. My idea is a map showing where you are on the network because normal maps aren't good at this. Would also clearly show key rail features such as stations, crossings, junctions and odd interesting information, perhaps also the speed you are going. Could be integrated with rail planner and train finder services perhaps?

Attractions, a list of places to go in an area, such as National Trust etc. Plus an element of gamification by getting a score based on the percentage of an area, country, or the world explored

These are just the ideas I have come up with so far for apps. In part one I had already listed a bunch of miscellaneous ideas and have yet to set out my other themed ideas sets covering Games, Technology and Transport. If you have a particular desire to see one of these subjects next let me know.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.317 28 Jun 2020 [First Pubication]
If you want me to expound on any of the above ideas just let me know
As usual if you know of any of these ideas actually existing in the real world please let me know so I can update my page. If not and you wish to exploit these concepts and commercially pass them off as your own just consider this, you have accessed this webpage so I may be able to trace and claim copyright. If you want peace of mind just let me know beforehand and we can probably come together and agree on a mutually acceptable arrangement

May 2020

Lots Of Little Ideas - Part 1 - Miscellaneous Ideas

Sometimes an idea or concept can be summarised in just a few lines. In fact as an example I can tell you an original thought I had using only three words - Chocolate coated crisps.

In fact I can do it in just two words - Black Wine.

Or I could use three words but add a bit of humour - Square Chocolate Eggs - Cluck, cluck, Argh.

I had considered collating the above three tiny ideas together under one banner of food concepts and publishing an article for this website. But if I did that the other dozen or so ones listed below would fester for longer on my hard drive still awaiting the light of day. So I had another idea. Why not just publish a whole list of my one or two sentence concepts? Each has no particular association with any other, except emanating from deep within the recesses of my imagination.

The Miscellaneous Ideas

Various sports series for the over fifties. For example: An over fifties track racing series using something like a simple space frame car with an off the shelf engine

A self contained mist sprinkler set for fire protection. Containing all the components for easy installation with localised control, all ready to plug in with an option to extend with simple pipe work and push fit fittings

A short range defence gun firing large soft missiles designed to knock over targets without permanent damage. Legal to carry by non firearm trained police and possibly the public

A boat underwater damage repair device. Magnetic doughnut ring with neoprene centre that secures on the outside around the hole with the rubber skin providing the seal by means of external water pressure. This could be developed for military use by incorporating permanent awning style attachments that could quickly roll out from above the waterline to the damage below

Weight watcher or dieting cards - Congratulations on reaching 70... kg

Base speed limits on car standard fitment tyres using the aspect ratio between width and height. Vehicles with wider tyres could travel faster than those with skinny tyres. It's a safety issue. Fatter tyres have more road contact so corner and stop quicker. Plus the types of vehicles with wide tyres usually have uprated brakes

People should take their rubbish home but too many don't respect supplied litter bins or use them because they cannot be bothered to get out of their cars. So why not have highway litter troughs? Open troughs alongside the road for people to simply dump litter incorporating a standardised size to aide scoop collection from predesigned trucks

Print a premium line number to on the back of a van to be called if the vehicle is driven badly or in the wrong lane. Then drive along in an outer lane without moving over

On comparison sites rank restaurant menus based all of their items on the menu as cheapest, standard and most expensive averages. The same could be done for other comparisons such as car prices [entry level model, average specification and fully specced versions]

A solution to the housing crisis. Build more suitable family homes, designed to accommodate multiple generations of the same family. With separate living spaces within the same footprint of a normal house. Multi storey, individual facilities, shared spaces, joint ownership etc.

Shared car park and apartment building structures in city centres. Designed like a multi-storey car park but incorporating apartments as well as the many parking spaces

Films set in space often utilise spinning structures to provide gravity. Why don’t they hang something the mass of Earth, although not the size of it, under the ship. A custom built black hole, powerful enough to draw everything towards it but not so big it would suck the whole thing up

Table Tennis played on an hexagonal court with radial nets. The idea is to have the least losses in your sector. If one good player starts to win all the others should attack them. This would keep the scores even

A dictionary of collective nouns

Large or mid size water bottles the shape of large hip flasks to enable carrying in rucksacks

A headset designed like the bottom half of a a full face motorbike helmet with attached earphones, allowing private web based communication in open office environments

These are just a few of the ideas I have come up with and I indeed have many more. So here is another one. At some point I shall revisit this concept for all the other sectors that I haven't covered above including apps, Games, Technology and Transport. If you have a particular desire to see one of these subjects first you know what to do. If not let me give you one more idea - Contact me.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.308 26 May 2020 [First Pubication]
If you want me to expound on any of the above ideas just let me know
As usual if you know of any of these ideas actually existing in the real world please let me know so I can update my page. Also, if not and you wish to pinch these concepts then commercially pass them off as your own just think, you have accessed this webpage so I may be able to trace and claim copyright. If you are concerned just let me know beforehand and we can probably come together and agree on a mutually acceptable arrangement

January 2020

Solar Panel Innovations

We live in a fast moving world. Fast both in development and motion. And traditionally we have powered all this with fossil fuels. We have long known that this energy supply will come to a natural end and now global warming and climate changes have accelerated to a point where we must act much more quickly to avoid further, costly environmental damage.

A sea change in finding alternative solutions for this has been the rapid recent development of electric power. Although some of this is generated by traditional fossil fuel sources a growing amount is being powered by cleaner and greener options such as wind, wave and solar power.

For transportation to embrace this power source there is a reliance on batteries, from early developments in heavy lead acid technology, through modern Lithium Ion versions which provide greater storage and even new ideas still on drawing boards and in the test tubes of many industrial chemical institutions.

Presently getting the electric power to the transport medium is a bit of a faff. High power electrical charging networks have only recently been planned and built also recharging batteries takes either massive amounts of time or massive amounts of power along with super cooled refrigeration mechanics. This is because fast charging generates huge amounts of heat as a by-product which can seriously damage or impair the equipment of the charging process.

For this reason a good compromise is solar powered battery recharge. Often readily available this is generally a fairly low powered constant supply, providing the daylight is present.

However, providing sufficient electric output for a high powered transport device such as a car is currently almost impossible to achieve other than for extremely lightweight prototype concepts. This is why no attempt is made to cover the roofs or panels of fully electric vehicles with solar panels and why all these vehicles are creeping quietly around the country looking for a fixed high amp electric charge point which they can sidle up to.

And providing sufficient panels for more energy intensive vehicles such as trucks, lorries, boats or even massive ships is even less likely.

Unless you are an ideas man like me and can see a way to beat this problem. And I present here a number of innovative concepts that may assist.

Solar Powered Cars

Let’s start with cars.

A couple of extremely light weight, prototype, hyper mileage, single seat, pram wheeled, ultra low drag vehicles with a streamlined plastic covering have been produced. These concepts were built to prove solar power concepts or challenge for self invented high mileage travel records, usually carried out in perfect solar producing conditions.

However, as discussed above our standard, fully equipped five seater electric cars need too much power storage and are used far too often in too many differing conditions to benefit from a charge source via just a few square metres of solar panel on their roof, even if you did add in the bonnet and side doors. There is just no more space to mount the panels.

This is why they are charged from a static point, either a mains public charger, from a parked charging space at home or something similar at a destination. This system works fine, providing the owner remembers to plug the car in to the mains and isn’t going on an extended journey. If such an undertaking is attempted a time consuming electrical fuel stop or two would be needed to be factored in.

So, the problem is the square meterage available of solar panels. So why not just tow a solar panel array? The increased surface area may just keep a car going for the number of miles needed for a longer trip. Imagine a trailer being towed behind the car, stretching back as far as an articulated lorry, quietly sucking up solar rays and sending the charge back into the cars battery via an attached coiled wire.

This is obviously all well and good on main, open, multiple lane roads and shouldn’t be too much of an issue but that’s not the only place cars need to go. On smaller, twistier, single carriageway roads, local suburban areas and cities a long trailer may be unruly and difficult to handle by the average driver so further innovation is required.

In these instances it is clear that the trailed array of panels needs to be shortened. So why not have an unfurling array? A twin axle trolley which automatically stretches out and also retracts to suit the road conditions.

The arrays will either have to be flexible enough to retract into a large roll or perhaps be designed to stack over and under each other in order to suit the trailer wheelbase length.

Maybe the ultimate version of this system would be a roll out trailer actually incorporated into the boot or within the rear bumper area of the car, which automatically deploys, dropping out and extending dependant on road suitability. Neat and tucked away for parking in congested cities and adjustable enough to suck up some sunshine dependant on the situation. With the advantage that the most effect will occur on longer runs on main roads, which is the weak point of electric propulsion systems.

Is it possible that this idea is so innovative and indeed needed that current, existing cars may be modified to remove the oily, noisy fossil fuel sucking engine with an electric powered transmission system and fitted out with an inboard, deployable towed power station?

Another associated thought may be that a future roadside recovery vehicle would be equipped with a trailer load of deployable, pre-charged, arrays ready to hitch to cars that have inadvertently run out of sun juice and are stranded on the edge of the carriageways? 'Eh, eh', I hear you mutter.

But enough of cars for now, what about other means of vehicular transport?

Vans, Trucks and Lorries

A similar system could be adopted for vans and trucks. But with these larger vehicles there is additional unused roof space for fixed panels and more space for incorporating a slide out additional array. Already many vans and lorries incorporate rear mounted equipment such as fold out load lifting platforms and even especially designed slimline forklift trucks.

For larger lorries already incorporating articulated designs an additional fixed or roll out trailer would be too unwieldy however their roof space is even more generous in the first place so should be utilised.

And in the case of the many articulated lorries which are just independent truck and trailer models with the cab owner hitching up the trailers of others the two parties would need to work to a commonly agreed system to ensure compatibility. Which makes me think that maybe the universal container design needs remodelling to incorporate solar arrays? And to avoid having to bolt on ill fitting solar panels to the corrugated roofs why not ‘paint’ a solar panel direct onto the corrugations? Surely this must be possible using laser etching?

But what if we consider other means of transportation?


The idea of roof mounted solar panels on trains is not required on much of the already electrified network. However the rail network system certainly lends itself to miles of fixed solar panel arrays alongside or between the rails for use of the rail network or to feed other non-rail infrastructure, homes and businesses nearby.

Notwithstanding the above, much of the network is not yet electrified and to convert it may be very expensive and require a lot of disruptive construction often in remote and environmentally sensitive areas. In these cases adopting roof panel mounted arrays on the long trains could be a good option and the towing of multiple, long, linked additional arrays is certainly a feasible thought.

And why isn’t wind power harnessed as the trains pass by? If you are unfortunate enough to be close to a passing high speed train you would feel the rush of wind created. Put up vertical fans near to the edge of the train which would spin up when a train passes and convert this mechanical energy back into electrical energy to help power the network points, lights and other infrastructure.

Canal Boats

Canals have some similarity to the rail networks. Some of the bends may be a little tighter but it is still essentially a system that suits elongated design. And much like the rail system many miles of it are very open to daylight.

Already many canal boats, usually those that house live aboard residents, take advantage of a few solar panels along with the necessary electronic systems and batteries to power their onboard electrical needs. However, their roofs are often too congested with guy ropes, poles, brightly decorated watering cans and other useless ephemera to be fully equipped with major arrays.

This is because few canal craft rely on full electric propulsion. Most instead rely on fossil fuel powered engines. But if one considers that these engines are usually very low powered they could simply be replaced with a similar power output electric system.

It is doubtful that with current technology that a single boat, even one that extends a full 72 feet in length, would be able to site enough panels on its own roof, even if we utilise my earlier idea of spray painted arrays. So instead, why not tow an additional hull packed with a full set of solar arrays?

I would add a couple of other extras onto this big fuel cell to make the system more easily manageable down the cut. I would add a small seating area at the rear and a deployable electric outboard type motor, powered from the array, to make the craft individually controllable when needed. This would be required when the towed power source is detached from the main boat in order to pass through the standard locks on the canal system.

Finally why not incorporate onboard the hull array a mechanical or electrically automated pivoting system to steer the individual array panels towards any light source to increase efficiency of the system?

The ideas are just flowing out now so let’s scale this up.

River Boats and Ocean Yachts

Already there are fully electric powered catamarans on the market taking full advantage of their generous roof and deck spaces being covered with solar panels which feed battery systems and electric propulsion. At present their power is limited compared to other more powerful, faster boats and yachts but they can apparently sail continuously in the right conditions at a modest cruising speed.

The trouble with non catamaran design is the lack of roof and deck space. Plus many yachts are designed with open flybridge cockpits and many, many more are already built already incorporating big, heavy, fuel sucking engines. So I need to find a solution for these craft as well.

The natural energy source can be the same as the model suggested for the canal boats. Towed solar panel arrays, powering an onboard battery storage, electric propulsion motor system.

Yes, I can hear you already picking up on a couple of key points. Calm down I have already thought of these and have them covered.

Firstly, yes some modifications have to be made to the original watercraft. The current diesel or petrol engines will need replacing with electric units. But these will be much more compact and whilst being fitted likely to incorporate updated innovation such as steerable pod propulsion to increase low speed manoeuvring around the harbours and marinas.

The balance of the boat design caused by the reduction in engine weight from big heavy fossil fuel engines and gearboxes with huge fuel storage tanks to more compact electrical motors can be offset by judicious positioning of the necessary battery and charging equipment.

Alternatively just build new boats with design incorporated, electric motors and battery storage systems.

But, you exclaim, what about having to tow a massive solar panel array craft behind us whilst trying to pose around the Mediterranean beaches and tearing about in pointless but addictive high speed turns? My answer is don’t. The power source doesn’t have to go everywhere with you. Just tow it to a convenient bit of empty sea, anchor it from tidal movements, disconnect and go off to have some fun whilst it sucks up some sun, only to return at the end of play to recharge from your own self sufficient ‘fuel’ station.

And if you wish to harness even more power why not incorporate some wave energy technology into your floating power station as well? I'll explain how when we really scale this up.

Ocean Going Ships

You may think that this article has developed from my ideas on road vehicles, adapting some of these basic ideas onto small water craft and now I’m going all in in an attempt to exaggerate and scale up a basic concept. In truth it was the energy efficient powering of ocean going liners that made me come up with these ideas in the first place.

I have been on a few cruise trips, including ocean crossings on some magnificent vessels and enjoy it too much to want to give it up for the sake of the environment. But I have a conscience and want my actions to impact the world in which I live in the most sustainable way. I heard that cruise ships have an enormously disproportionate effect on natural resources and they are getting ever more popular so I wanted to come up with a solution to save the industry. I know, it's all me, me, me.

But how do you electrify a huge cruise ship without if being tethered to a large cable attached to shore? The answer lies in utilising wave and solar power whilst out and about. And much like smaller boats and craft the onboard surface area is not sufficient to meet the needs of the many decks of energy hungry occupants below.

I therefore envisaged an idea that the vast surface area of a massive solar array could be towed behind to power the ship, all fitted out with steerable panels to zero in on the source of light power. Overall size and space taken up need not be a consideration due to the environment in which these vessels operate. Why not tow massive panel sets over a mile in length? If size requires it to be unhooked and anchored temporarily whilst the ship puts into ports then shore power can be used whilst the ship is there.

Yes, the towed power source will need some battery storage for harvesting power whilst unhooked, it would be best served with independent motors for manoeuvring and probably incorporate a small manned onboard control tower [and lifeboat for emergency], particularly if it is a mile long!

Finally add in some wave energy harnessing technology as well into this power station, possibly by articulation of sections of the craft and hey, I may just have had an idea that could help save the industry and our planet. And more importantly, my future cruise desires.

And finally, as a call back to the section above entitled Vans, Trucks and Lorries, remember my idea that all standardised containers incorporate solar panels. These adapted containers can all be linked whilst transported on massive container ships to provide more self sufficiency and even more planet saving. I’m starting to wonder whether I could actually be saving the equivalent of two planets by now.

You’re welcome.

Oh, and as for powering all the oil tankers chugging around the world. No need, they will all become redundant.

Summary Of Ideas

Wow, what a lot to think about. Just in case you have been overwhelmed by the number of innovative ideas in this one single article let me summarise them below.

  • Towed solar panel arrays for vehicles
  • Adjustable length towed arrays - Retractable roll out and stackable
  • Adjustable towed arrays stored within the rear of vehicles
  • Roadside recovery vehicles carrying spare, pre-charged roll out towed arrays
  • Redesign of the universal container system to incorporate solar panels, adaptable enough to be joined up to help power a container ship
  • Spray painted on solar panel arrays with laser etching
  • Fixed solar panels within or without the parallel rail lines to power electrified trains and infrastructure on electrified and non electrified routes
  • Harnessing wind created by high speed passing trains to power the network infrastructure
  • Floating, towed solar panel arrays for canal craft, boats and even big ships
  • Floating, towed solar panel arrays incorporating wave energy harnessing technology

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.284 15 Jan 2020 [First Publication]
These are conceptual ideas, untested and made without engineering calculations. For instance I have no idea how many more miles a towed array would make to an electrically propelled vehicle or craft. I do however surmise that it would be more with than without
I have not overly emphasised the additional components of solar panel and battery systems. I do understand that there would be other components such as solar charge controllers, inverters, wiring and isolation to consider. I also understand that all these things would add both weight and cost and be needed to be incorporated in either the vehicle or towed array or both. An unaccompanied, towed array left to soak up some sun whilst drifting quietly at sea would do no good to its owner when it returns if an onboard battery etc is not included
At the time of publication I had not fact checked whether any of the ideas listed above have already been produced, developed, patented or are in the process of development. All I claim is that I have not come across them naturally. If you know of such innovation already out there let me know and I’ll amend and credit accordingly.
I place these concepts into the wild as I feel it wrong to keep them to myself and I also hope to inspire others and generate interesting discussion
As ever, my many ideas are never commercially exploited nor formally patented by me but I would like to see them used. I presume if you are the sort who takes up the ideas of others and passes them off as your own you would not be the sort who credits the original inventor or chucks them a bit of financial thanks. If however you are not such a dreadful monster my name is shown above. Find me, thank me, credit me, reward me. You’ll feel a much better human
These innovations have not been fully developed, tested, proven via prototype, safety tested, manufactured or fully engineered and are just conceptual ideas therefore the author cannot accept any liability for loss or damage in the use or manufacture of any of these conceptual ideas

October 2019

Brand New Noise

Emerging from a darkened place
A brand new soul, a brand new face
Welcome to the human race

Fingers counted, then the toes
A dimpled chin, a runny nose
And all wrapped up in warming clothes

A gurgle, sigh, a friendly hiss
A cuddle here, a gentle kiss
This early life is full of bliss

But then a noise to breach a dam
A ripping sound, a thank you Ma'am
My son, indeed, you are a man

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.276 1 Oct 2019 [first publication]

July 2019


A compilation of eleven photographs showing the concept of the MashTop product, a mashed pototo scoop in an edible wafer cone. On the left are five variants with mashed potato toppings and other ingredients on a cone. The first has two frankfurters with pepper, the second with mackerel and gravy, the third frankfurters with beans, the fourth beans with gravy and black pepper and the fifth with beetroot. The central photograph shows the author smiling whilst holding one of the cones. On the right are five photographs showing cutaways of the cones showing the internal contents. The first is a full size showing the mash and frankfurther cone with an internal filling of red jelly and dark chocolate pieces plugged with a Malteser, the second is a close up of the same product concentrating on the filling, the third close up showing a filling of red jelly and smarties, the fourth close up with pieces of Rocky Road and red jelly and the fifth close up with apple pieces

In April of this year I posted an article proposing the concept of a novel range of mashed potato based take away outlets, arguing that it was more healthy and offered greater choice than traditional burger, curry and fish & chips franchises.

I even attempted to differentiate my idea by suggesting a slight change in the packaging of the take away product by proposing a circular polystyrene container. However this change is not radical enough. It still has the unpopular use of a one time wasteful box. So I set about attempting to find a solution to appease environmentally minded people.

I found a solution to this by merging two traditional take away ideas - Fast food and ice cream.

A photograph of the MashTop concept showing a mashed potato scoop with two frankfurters poking out, covered in black pepper in an edible wafer cone which has been cut away to show a sweet treat inside including a Malteser and two dark chocolate chunks within some shredded red jelly.
The original concept for a MashTop showing the edible cone cut away revealing a tasty sweet internal treat

I propose the uniquely novel idea of a brand new food product which I have called The MashTop.

The basic concept is a scoop of mashed potato atop an edible wafer cone.

With the mashed potato top additional elements can be added to complete a tasty meal such as the use of frankfurters shown in the adjacent close up photograph.

Other toppings could include slices of various cooked or processed meats or even fish fingers. Samples are shown within the banner photograph above.

Carrots, baked beans or sprinklings of peas could be vegetarian options or even be included with the meats.

Toppings could include peppers, gravy or selected sauces.

The other novel concept, which really sets this idea apart from what is already available, is the hidden sweet treat internally held within the cone.

The large photograph shows a filling of red jelly with chunks of dark chocolate and a Malteser plug. But many other mixes could be added such as illustrated by the banner photograph.

Other sweets could be utilised such as Smarties, Jelly Babies, chocolate raisins or maybe healthier options like apple, orange segments or grapes.

The major benefit of The MashTop is the complete lack of environmental waste because the toppings, internal contents and the 'container', the wafer cone itself, are all edible.

Additional benefits include ease of use, convenience, the ability for customers to select their own choice of fillings and being quick enough to prepare to be called fast food.

As the original designer and so first user of this concept I am uniquely qualified to report on the success or otherwise of this concept.

For the purpose of this article I simply used products that are easily available at large supermarkets and I used no more 'cooking' than boiling a kettle.

I used a freeze dried potato mash option and warmed the frankfurters by emptying the water from a tin and adding boiled water.

With more effort in a full kitchen fresh potatoes could be peeled, boiled and mashed but the end result would look little different.

Because I like the way I prepared the food I was personally satisfied with the taste and texture of the mash based topping.

It was as easy to eat as a classic ice cream and didn't spill anywhere.

The interaction between the mash, frankfurters and the room temperature cone was admittedly a bit unusual because this is not the normal way of consuming food. However it was perfectly acceptable.

The only change I would make is a thicker wafer cone as the moisture from the mashed potato was easily absorbed around the cone perimeter. This would be less likely the quicker the product was consumed. Alternate thicker, stronger cones were not available in the supermarket that I used.

The internal treats were lovely as expected and no such differentiation between the cone and sweet filling was experienced.

When reselecting a different more substantial cone I would also seek a larger size. The standard small cone wasn't able to accommodate much filling and the mashed potato based topping was only a small meal. Ideal for a snack between meals or for children but probably not enough for a main lunchtime meal. Maybe cone size options could be offered at the retail outlet.

Overall I feel the product has serious potential as a new fast food option.

A complete meal in a take away cone. Two courses, no waste.

Do you like this idea? Perhaps you have some comments. The idea is not patented and therefore free to use. Try it. Enjoy it. Sell it. Sell millions. Make millions. Thank me later.

And finally if you think I haven't also thought of serving other fast food meals such as burgers in a wafer box then you really don't understand the breadth of my inventiveness. Another great idea, just dropped in as an afterthought? You're welcome.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.270 11 Jul 2019 [First Publication]
The header image is a compilation of eleven photographs showing the concept of the MashTop product, along with the author holding one of the cones, taken by the author and his wife on 23 Sep 2017
The additional image is a close up of a cutaway MashTop, taken by the author on 23 Sep 2017
I had the idea of mashed potato based fast food outlets a few years ago but only publicly posted this as an idea in April 2019
The idea of the MashTop was fully developed by me by 2017, as can be seen from the date of the photographs. This article is the first public airing of the idea. Had I created the article immediately and not spent ages updating my website as a vehicle for such thoughts I suspect that by now there would have been a sea change of fast food container use and as a result there would be no plastics found in our environment, Polar Bears would have been brought back from near extinction and David Attenborough would be having a nice quiet retirement. For this delay Mr Attenborough and all Polar Bears I am sorry.

April 2019


An original coloured pencil sketch drawing illustrating how a new mashed potato outlet might look on the high street.  The drawing shows a row of three outlets. On the left a failing chicken outlet called FryMark advertising a closing down offer. In the centre a new mashed potato based food outlet called Ring-o-Mash, with a queue of customers awaiting entry. On the right a modern, glassy, technical store outlet with a bemused looking store operative looking onto the scene.  In the foreground a woman in a white dress is stepping off the pavement whist walking her small dog.  Another detail on the far left shows a person sat in a doorway. The drawing is signed and dated at the bottom right as Vince 19.

I seem to come up with several ideas including many for businesses across many sectors. Occasionally my mind has to bat them off because they come at me so furiously at times.

And they appear suited to a variety of places but the best need to be sustainable. After all, in commerce, why sell one of something to someone when there are options to sell and resell and resell all over again to customers.

The best business example of this is of course the food industry.

But the food industry is as mature as a stock of forgotten Stilton. And often as impenetrable as a stock of forgotten Edam. However I must stop these silly cheese based analogies to concentrate my best business brain cell on finding a chink in this already well developed market.

So let’s take a look at who does best here.

The most successful must be the high volume, massive turnover, big brand supermarkets. Unfortunately to take on these giants would take a lifetime of hard work originating from a small base and this is where my forte falls unfortunately short. By about thirtee-nyne.

The next most successful food based businesses must be the big brand burger and chicken establishments and it is here I see a possible way to sneak a crack into the firmament.

You see these fast food emporiums concentrate mainly on the meat part of the meat and two veg combo. A burger outlet will mainly offer burger and fries or burger with salad or even burger alone. The chicken outlets do the same only replacing the term burger with the phrase fried chicken. And the Asian variants do the same this time invariably leading with the curried meat. Even the original fast food outlet in this country leads with fish and whatever.

What is missing is the option in these places to vary the ‘meaty’ or ‘fishy’ bit. So, I think it’s time to lead with the chips.

I could propose a chips shop, offering chips with fish, chips with burger or chips with chicken, all within one establishment. But chips are as unhealthy as fries so let’s drop the whole frying thing and offer a simpler, basic potato option.

My proposal is to start a chain of take away food outlets with the emphasis on the potato. And as jacket potato outlets already exist and new potatos are inconsistent and have a habit of rolling all over the place I suggest trying the mashed potato option.

Imagine a smart new food outlet headlined by a healthy, tasty mashed potato choice. With a variety of additional side extras from meats like burgers and chops, via sausages to curries and stews. Plus a variety of vegatable choices such as peas, carrots, beans etc. All topped as desired with butter, black pepper, gravy or sauces.

Mashed potato is simple to produce, there are automated potato peeling machines, and cooking is a simple boiling and mechanised mashing procedure. The product can even be mass produced in a remote location, freeze dried, easily stored and transported then enlivened by simply adding boiling water.

A hand drawn coloured pencil sketch of a potential ring-o-mash serving showing a ring of mashed potato in an originally designed circular polystyrene container.  Within the ring of mash a pair of sausages are shown along with a serving of green peas. The drawing is signed and dated at the bottom right as Vince 19.
An illustration to show how a take away serving of a Ring-o-Mash, served with sausages and peas, might look. Note the unique circular design of the polysterene container

To further identify this idea from other more established branding and presentation I envisage that mashed potato based take aways should be offered on a circular platter with the non-mash options added within the circle.

This design would help with containment of any looser items such as peas and for liquids such as gravy during transit.

Additionally the design has some familiarity, resembling the classic rice and curry presentation and allows for simple mixing prior to consumption. In fact the brand Ring-o-Mash was inspired by such a take away design concept.

This concept would be unique, tasty, healthy and could be marketed as suitable for vegetarians, vegans, followers of halal choices or those with allergies.

Setting up a business like this would be relatively simple. As a basic cottage industry it could be started from home, providing you have a working kitchen. And on a more industrial scale the concept could be expanded or franchised.

And the best bit is that it is premiered right here.

So are you looking for a new business idea? Do you have the skills to set this up? The necessary food hygine certification? The kettle? If so please feel free to go for it.

I only ask that you show credit where credit is due by acknowledging me as the person who came up with this idea. And for about 3% of turnover when you are established in more than three counties.

And a free lunch on Wednesdays. Because I love mash. Covered in sprinkled cheese.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.258 16 Apr 2019 [First Publication]
The header image is an original sketch drawn by the author to illustrate how a new mashed potato outlet might look on the high street
The additional image is an original sketch drawn by the author to illustrate how a 'ring of mash' take away meal comprising mashed potato, sausages and peas might look if presented in a uniquely designed circular polystyrene take away box

Early 2019

For Laughing Out Loud

During the latter part of 2018 and into the beginning of 2019 I embarked on a series of stand up gigs at a local comedy venue. All told I wrote, learned and performed seven original five minute open mic slots. For proof of this boast you can check out my videos of these performances on YouTube or here on my website.

During the course of this time at the venue I met with the other performers at regular times and we exchanged ideas and assisted each other with our performances. One such performer, Paul Jones, performed comedic songs and invited us to suggest some lyrics for him. This inspired me to pen some full song treatments and the song lyrics below were offered. However Paul claimed unfamiliarity with the original song and was dismissive about developing it.

However, I am very familiar with Meat Loaf's version of For Crying Out Loud and feel the parody version I wrote is worthy of consideration. I only wish I could sing like Meat and had a backing band like him. You will just have to imagine what this would sound like if I had these facilities.

If you are as fired up about this as I am and want to record a version do please share and if it's any good [or really bad] I'll include links.

Version m5.283 3 Jan 2020

For Laughing Out Loud

Written in early 2019 and based on the tune of For Crying Out Loud. Yes, that famous Meat Loaf Track. With apologies to Jim Steinman, who wrote the song upon which this parody is based

Vince, dressed in a black tuxedo entertaining a few audience members on board a cruise ship. Some are applauding

I was lost till you were found,
And I never knew how far down,
I was falling 'fore I reached the bottom.
I stand up but you sit down.
Coming here from all around.
Just waiting for me to tell you the first funny line.

And the now inevitable nervous wind,
Is blowing out my body again,
And we're sinking deeper and deeper into the recesses of my mind.
Oh how I know there's jokes there inside my aching heart,
But I can’t stop this damn routine from breaking apart.
And please don't let me use puns,
They just won't flow.
And don't you miss the call backs,
At the end of the show.

I'm in the middle of a dark stage,
On the end of a Mic.
But there's a border to some lines waiting,
And there’s just some you won’t like.
Oh give me just another moment to craft the clever retort,
'Cause if I get it worded just right you could laugh till you snort

And I'm gonna need some great lines to make you feel you like me.
And I will receive everybody with open arms, open flies,
Open up the sky and let the comedy that I love shine through.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

The interval and you're at the bar.
Got so drunk you can't find the car.
You're thinking about calling for an Uber.

You could laugh or you could cry.
Strangely now your throat feels dry.
You were spinning,
Ah, you now really need a pee.

Again the inevitable nervous wind,
Is blowing out my body again.
Still sinking deeper and deeper into the recesses of my mind.
Oh I know there's still jokes there inside my aching heart.
Still can’t stop this damn routine from breaking apart.
And please don't hear me use puns,
They just won't flow.
Here comes the damn call back,
It's all part of the show.

Still stuck here on the dark stage,
On the end of my Mic.
I've found the border to some lines broken,
And there was some you just don't like.
You gave me just another moment to craft the clever retort.
And I worded things just right so you could laugh till you snort.

And I managed to find some great lines that made you feel you like me.
And I received everybody with open arms, still open flies,
You opened up the sky and let the comedy that I love shine through.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

Oh for pissing your pants,
You know I love you.

For laughing out loud,
You know I love you.

For smiling at the chicken when it's crossing the road.
For chuckling at the doctors when the curtains are closed.
So I suppose,
For that I thank you.

For tittering at the knock, knock when it's just Doctor Who.
For smirking at the dentist at thirty minutes past two.
Oh, so that’s a clue,
For that I need you.

For getting the idea of an elephant with feet buttery.
Or one with red toes sat up high in a tree.
You should believe,
For that I serve you.

For groaning when I tell you my dog has no nose.
And getting all the references, the ones that I chose.
Oh, I hope it shows,
For that I want you.

For whooping and for cheering and for playing the game.
For praying that the ticket price next month stays the same.
With no shame,
For that I hold you.

Ah but most of all,
For laughing out loud,
For that I love you.

Woah but most of all,
For clapping out loud,
For that I love you.

Woah but most of all,
For cheering out loud,
For that I love you.

When you're shouting encore,
You know I love you.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version [First publication] m5.283 3 Jan 2020
Lyrics originally written in 2019
The image depicts Vince performing a stand up routine on board the cruise liner Queen Mary 2 on 27 Jul 2019. It is a still taken from the video of the performance shot by Lynda Poynter. The video is also available on YouTube and on this website.

October 2014


A to Zoom

A photoshopped rear view of a red Ferrari 360 prominently displaying the registration number plate V1 NCE

I was talking to a friend of mine
about cars that people drive.
We all have preconceived ideas
about their thoughts and lives.
And when I thought back on my life
and cars I used to own,
I fitted all the types there were.
And I was not alone.

I started with an Austin.
A10 I think it was.
I loved that little car you know,
with its paint a thick black gloss.
But when I was in the country
and doing thirty-five,
All I got was horns and lights and people
shouting "You can't drive!"

So I got myself a new car.
I felt just like a king,
Even if the handling was
like a prayer upon a wing.
But my Beetle days still haunt me.
In spirit anyway,
I still want love not war you know ...
and at any time of day.

Those days with my old Beetle
made me think environment,
My mind was getting greener
about the energy we spent.
So I went down to the High Street
and got my fivers out,
And bought the latest fashion
one couldn't do without.

I purchased one of those things
Sinclair called a C5.
I even bought the pole and flag
so I'd be seen and kept alive.
I thought I was a hero and
pollution was no longer,
But everyone who saw me in the street
thought me a plonker.

I had to go upmarket
so I became a Gent.
My Daimler was a class act,
everywhere it went.
With tables in the rear
and leather lined throughout.
The shiny paint was gleaming,
I never had a doubt.

Until someone with a switchblade,
ran it down the side.
I couldn't keep the car no more,
so sold it then I cried.
I had to get a basic car,
something not so new,
An ubiquitous vehicle,
an old Escort would do.

Although it was a simple thing
I liked that little car,
And when the MOT ran out
I didn’t look too far.
The company helped my choosing,
I wasn’t at a loss,
They brought out a modern version.
I brought a new Focus.

I had the modern family car
but with styling like a shark,
But I couldn’t find the damn thing
when in a big car park.
So I changed it for another.
A car that looked much harder.
The Sweeney gave me the idea,
I brought a black Granada.

I raced it here and raced it there
all around the town,
But when the local bank was done
they nearly sent me down.
I had to trade it in for something
not so big and black.
So brought a Hillman next.
An Imp, with its engine at the back.

I tottered round the roads nearby
but never went too mad.
The handling was, lets put it this way,
pretty flipping bad.
One day I took a corner,
I was only doing twenty-eight,
The skinny tyres gave me no grip,
the car just went on straight.

Over pavement, through the hedge,
half way up a leap.
I thought, this was fun I'll go again
but this time in a Jeep.
My off-roader was a total hoot.
I went round with muddy feet,
And everyone got out the way
when I drove down the street.

But the Jeep was far too thirsty
and I’m a sometimes frugal man,
I still needed all the cargo space
so I brought a Kangoo van.
Economy and load lugging -
they were second to none.
But nought to sixty in eighteen secs
meant I didn’t pull anyone.

And a man has needs above
the needs of his economy,
So I splashed my cash and traded up
for a new Lamborghini.
Ray–bans specs, laying rubber lines
and acting just like Rambo,
I terrorised the neighbourhood
driving in my Lambo.

It had to go when I got caught
going more than fifty-five.
Not much you think, but then again,
it was in my front drive.
And when I tried to fit it past
all the cars in my small street,
It wouldn’t fit as it was about
as wide as seven feet.

I changed the car for something that
I could drive most anywhere,
A shopping trip, an opera,
a classless car without a care.
My little Mini would park up
outside a flash boutique,
Or fit in with chavs at markets
collecting their cheap meat.

So I lavished love and bits on it
at every opportunity,
So much that it resembled
last year’s Christmas tree.
And when the thing was laden down
with all the bits from near and far,
I decided to trade it in
for a proper custom car.

I looked around the free-ads
and asked around the meets,
But most were overpriced
and under funded junk-yard heaps.
Finding one seemed just like hunting
out a four-leaf clover,
So I bought the latest 'in-thing'
a custom Vauxhall Nova.

The bonnet bulge and paintwork
made it stand out alright,
And the turbo-charged conversion
set the big fat tyres alight.
Even the huge spoiler,
which did nothing for my front wheel drive,
Seemed to shout I'm here - I'm now -
I'm definitely alive.

But then I got my hair cut
in the shape of cheddar cheese,
And wore my jeans hung down so low
the crotch was near my knees.
And when I got the beanie hat,
worn facing back to front,
It fell across my eyes
and resulted in a shunt.

The Nova was a write off
(all I salvaged was the dice),
So I had to start again from scratch
and look for something nice.
The fancy car mags were the first place
that I kept my eye on,
So, how is it I ended up
with a mangy Ford Orion?

I guess they call it growing up
and finally settling down.
The car was Mr. Sensible -
for motorway or town.
I only had it two months,
but it really seemed an age,
I guess that's what happens
when you drive something beige.

And in those two months living
with the dreadful booted Ford,
Invisibly travelling round the place,
getting me quite bored.
I had to get a car that shouted out
until it’s hoarse.
Yes, you’re there before me.
A turbo-charged black Porsche.

I was the Mr. P-Man.
Seeing cars off at every light.
I’d give the single finger
but I never stayed to fight.
They just couldn't catch me
when I laid my horses down.
The kids would grow up thinking
I'm King without a crown.

I attained a God like status,
pulling all the skirt,
I saw so much good loving
that things started to hurt.
But when I faced up to a car
and saluted in my way,
I didn’t realise his little Caterham
could blow me away.

And when he got my number
and threatened life and limb,
I chose to ditch the Porsche
and get a hiding thing.
Something that had no-one thinking -
he is up for S.E.X.
And Nissan came to my rescue
with its big QX.

Now Q-cars look quite normal
but are faster underneath,
With acceleration giving goose bumps
and speed to clench your teeth.
It was big and strong and manly
but this was not enough,
The stylist had a day off
when this car was signed off.

And with performance comes the cost,
fuel soaked up like a sponge,
But the styling didn't get the looks
despite being painted orange.
It finally put paid to all fast living
and days out clubbing.
I had more luck when I changed it
for a new Reliant Robin.

A new Reliant Robin buyer -
I must have been a mug,
The salesman saw me coming
and sold me a three-pin plug.
If you missed a hole with the front wheel
the back would surely find.
Speed-humps eventually wrecked the car
and rattled up my mind.

So I changed again and this time
I went out all the way,
I brought a big red car with wings –
a Chevrolet Stingray.
I posed about the town again
driving like a lout,
But as it was American
it didn’t make the roundabout.

A British car would make more sense
than a big Yankee car,
And nothing seemed better
than one named after a girl's bra.
The Triumph was a perfect car
made in steel for Purdy's Steele,
But rust took away the pleasure
along with the nearside cill.

I needed a rainproof vehicle
'cause I parked it near the shore,
Where savage rains and sea-salt
oxidised metal to the core.
I had to get some transport
built for this environment,
And invested in a U-boat
from the German government.

Now, as you can imagine,
this idea was not plain sailing.
At over fifty years old
I spent too much time a'bailing.
And when I visited relatives
or went down to the mall,
Torpedo tubes and periscopes
couldn’t make up the shortfall.

I sold the boat to a contact
in a complex and shady deal,
He would let me know his name,
but Prince H was on the bill.
I had to get a some normal wheels
and settled on a car,
You can’t get more normal
than a (yawn) Vauxhall Vectra.

The lanes of Britain’s motorways
opened up for me.
I say the lanes, actually it was only
the one we all call three.
I finally had a way to do ninety mph
city-to-city hacks,
And as a bonus somewhere
to hang my coat up in the back.

But doing this for nine months solid
without missing out one beat,
I put too many miles on
and had a rapid over-heat.
I needed a new engine
and wanted something cool.
I went for a different way of things
and brought a new Wankle.

The rotary engine was a talking point
in shops and at the Pub,
But when I loudly said its name
I got fired from the country club.
They wouldn’t let me back in
until I apologised and show,
I could get a classic British car
to sit in the member's row.

But I had followed alphabet choice,
so was a good trendsetter,
And classic steeds did not start
with requisite next letter,
But Jaguar they saved the day
and followed up the hype,
With a brand new four-wheel drive,
shiny new X-type.

With all my wheels in motion
I could climb the highest peak,
But spent all day in traffic jams,
cars tucked cheek to cheek.
The daily grind was wasteful
as the fuel gauge dropped so far,
But that was nothing next to depreciation
that fell off the radar.

I had to ditch the cruise control
and my leather seats all had to go,
I swapped it at a dealers
for a few grand and a nearly new Yugo.
And that is why I’m writing this
to recall my memories.
I’ve been from A to Y in cars
and motoring was a wheeze.

But I have yet to finish -
It's the way that I behave,
And I’ve settled on the last one
that shall take me to the grave.
When I’ve saved enough to get me
a fast zed for a few bob.
A classic Kawasaki or
a Zonda Paganini should do the job.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.073 21 Feb 2018
First Published: Version 2.00 in May 2005
Performed as part of the vinceunlimited Podcast entitled Alphacar on the vinceunlimited WordPress site dated 29 Oct 2014 []. Also available via Apple iTunes.
The image depicts the rear of a Ferrari 360 with a photoshopped registration number plate. It was taken from a cherished number plate site, source now unknown, around 2002. Please advise if you know of the source material and I will duly give credit. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.073 21 Feb 2018

March 2010

Window Vistas

Through The Round Window

Take a look out of your window. What do you see?

The chances are that unless you are on holiday, you live on a ship or are currently slumming it in what the Americans call an “ArrVee” the view is exactly the same as the one you had yesterday. And the day before.

And unless you are about to complete a property transaction or do a moonlight flit from the landlord it will be the same again tomorrow.

I for one find all that a bit monotonous.

And I won’t accept the changing patterns of trees in the winter/spring/summer/autumn argument. The trees never move and for my money offer less distraction than a city-scape skyline. At least with a city you may get the chance to live opposite a hospital nurses’ changing room during a curtain closing drought.

So I have devised a cunning way to relieve the monotony. Let's all share our views.

I propose that all windows be replaced with a big LCD screen backing onto a networked webcam.

Tomorrow I could be looking out of your lounge window and you could be looking out of mine. And noting that Mrs Miggins across the road has just painted her front door green.

Obviously certain outlooks will be of more interest than others. I’ve seen several windows that back onto the neighbours wall and others with fine vistas.

Which gives me the name. Let’s call this ‘Windows replaced by Vista’.

Although I may need to do some research to see if this infringes any patented trademarks first.

Perhaps we could use a system where we state the number of viewing options available. I have 7 windows in my house so I could call my place Windows 7. You see Windows 7 really is my idea.

The system could even be monetised with the most popular views commanding high viewing figures and attracting ad breaks.

And guess which curtain drought outlook would be the most popular?

There are a couple of drawbacks.

In winter you may switch to a nice sunny outlook only to have your Hawaiian shirt thoroughly dampened when you step out into the real world's shivering rain.

And, being the twenty-first century all soothsayers will immediately rally around the old chestnut of energy usage. After all these screens would use more energy than a simple plate of glass.

But there is a response. Ask yourself how a lot of the heat escapes from a well insulated property - through the glazing. And with this system all windows will be bricked up and insulated.

I foresee that one day you will be able to say “That outlook is so much more improved”.

And that’s no bad thing.

However that potential trademark is also being considered.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.170 10 Aug 2018
First Published: Version 3.0 in Mar 2010
Windows Vista is the name of Microsoft's computer operating software released in 2007
Windows 7 is the name of Microsoft's computer operating software released in 2009
When Windows 7 was released Microsoft updated their 'I'm a PC' advertising campaign, which had attempted to counter the Apple 'Get a Mac' advertising campaign, using the tag line "I'm a PC and Windows 7 was my idea"
Microsoft's Outlook, a personal information manager, incorporating email, was initially released in 1992 and has since had many improvements made up to it's current version

Vision Of Death

The following Novelette story idea was commenced in the early eighties and then subsequently uploaded to the vinceunlimited website. It is currently incomplete but if you wish to read the rest let me know and I'll cut out some more words from my dictionary and thesarus.

I can't remember why we were there, but we were and that was all that mattered at this moment in time. Across the table all I saw was his cold, calm face and crossed arms. He looked so easy, so relaxed, although I figured this must be an act as I myself was trying to portray an air of calmness even though deep inside I trembled.

On the table were just three objects. The candle lighting his sinister features, the Magnum and a lethal bronzed bullet, shining in the eerie flickering light. Silent. Deadly.

His hand moved slowly towards the gun and raised it pointing in my direction and with a quick and near professional flick of his wrist released the magazine chamber. His other hand, now in view, picked up the bronzed cartridge and held it tantalisingly upright by the base for what seemed like several seconds.

I could now feel my collectiveness deteriorating as a bead of sweat trickled slowly down my forehead lodging itself neatly in my left eyebrow. His eyes, however, showed no sign of detecting this as he stared singularly at the capsule of death in his left hand. I longed for just one brief moment, just one millisecond of freedom from his icy presence to hide my fears.

Finally he looked up again into my eyes and slid the bullet gently into the cold steel chamber. My eyes couldn't be taken from that small dark hole, the daunting prospect that next time the chamber was emptying I could be at the receiving end.

He placed the weapon back on the table, this time with it's carved wooden handle nearest to me. He refolded his arms and cautiously smiled, although this revealed a weakness as I noticed the far corner of his lips quivering nervously. This released a portion of my own anxiety as I relaxed back slightly into the chair. Now it was my move.

I placed my hand gently over the gun's handle and paused a moment. I had the upper hand now and was determined to make the most of my time. I discounted a smile though to ensure no lip tremble disturbed my lines.

I lifted the Magnum, suddenly realising it was no toy. It's metallic weight seemed reluctant to allow me to lift it from the table. A strange sense of scalding seemed to burn my palms as I considered it's deadliness, which made my fingers sticky with sweat. I raised the gun, pointing the barrel at my adversary, my index finger resting gently on the cold trigger. I felt so powerful.

To be continued...

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.173 14 Aug 2018
Written in the early eighties
First Published: Version 3.0 in Mar 2010

July 2006

The following four pieces, 'The Ball', 'The Dog', 'The Driver' and 'Turnstile Girl' were originally written for the radio format. However only your imagination prevents use elsewhere. I, for instance might try them on a pizza with a little olive oil, or maybe to prop open my door to get some fresh air in here or even dam a leak in Venice.

The pieces were all written as a submission for a BBC radio writing request held during the 2006 football World Cup. In all the BBC received over 1100 entries but much like the England team my entries didn't make the finals and The Beeb decided not to broadcast my efforts. I do believe in my pieces so have published them here. Belligerent? Damn right. They are each only two to three minutes in length so it should not take you long to judge for yourself whether they were on the ball or off the pitch, the mutts nuts or total dog doo-dahs or even a nitrous sipping, turbo-charged monster or a tricycle with a flat tyre.

As the author, I, not the BBC, own the copyright to these entries. If you wish to distribute, perform or publish these articles please have the decency to contact me first. However, if you wish to link others to this web page then I shall feel honoured.

Version m5.302 13 May 2020
All four pieces were written July 2006 and submitted to the BBC as part of a radio script submission request
All four pieces were First Published: Version 2.04 in Dec 2006

The Ball

Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!

That’s all I’m hearing lately. It's alright for the fans and those infuriating footballers but speaking from my particular point of view I'd be happy to stay where I am. I do realise that hasn't been the view of all balls in this World Cup, flying here there and everywhere, but personally speaking I’d rather just sit here on this grass lapping up the sun.

You see, being a ball in the World Cup isn’t all it's made out to be. I recall discussing this with my grandfather, a leathery old sort who claimed to be at the World Cup in 1966 when England won. He said us balls have it made now, what with our lightweight construction and weatherproof coating. Not like in his day when they had to carry half a rainstorm with them in the wet and constantly ran out of puff.

Granddad claimed to be in the actual final that year. Well he would wouldn't he. They all do. Mind you, he tells a convincing account of how he swerved to get Geoff Hurst his second goal. He thinks that he changed the course of history but I feel that’s going a bit too far. Could I change what happens in this game? Could I help to change the course of history? Well possibly, but I really can't be bothered right now. Those boys have stopped kicking me about for a while now so I’m happy to take the rest.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not always on the move. Agreed, sometimes I get kicked up and down this pitch so often I get dizzy and end up spinning past the side line. At least I get a rest now whilst one of my mates takes over. Granddad reckoned he had to keep going the whole match. At least he had a good long retirement afterwards, sat in some warm cabinet for the rest of his days. I’ll probably end up on e-Bay.

That happened to one of the guys the other day. Booted right up in the stands he was, then smuggled out under some chap's sweaty shirt. Think about it, would you like that. Not nice at all. I expect he ended up being kicked against some concrete wall by an ungrateful kid. I think of that every time I get hoofed up there myself. Mind you, most of the time up there in the stands is good. I quite enjoy that pleasant ride around the stadium jumping from fan to fan.

I would like to be on the pitch at the end of the match though. Just think, picked up by the ref, then onto the changing rooms to have all those signatures added - I think that looks real smart. Or, even better, I’d love to be involved in an actual goal. Granddad said he scored them all, even the German ones that day, but nowadays there are so many of us involved that actually getting in the comfort of that net would be a real privilege.

What I need is a Beckham free kick, and then I'll be straight in there. Oh, yes, you didn't realise that did you? We are the ones responsible for bending it, not Beckham. Legend has it that when he was very young he pulled an unloved ball out of a river and gave it a new lease of life. He loved that ball so that is why we love him. Even the way he caresses his foot on our side, it's a magical touch and we always respond when he gets involved.

Hello, we seem to be moving. My rest in the grass seems to be over. Whatever they were all arguing about seems to be sorted out. So where do we go from here? Oh, it looks like I'm being placed down again. And fantastic news, the grass here is white, I’ll just roll about a bit… Oh yes, definitely it's a spot - I’m going to take a penalty.

Now, who is it taking the shot? I need to decide whether to go sideways, or up. Some wag I know reckoned they did this to Gareth Southgate in an important England match, reckoned that he punctured a ball when he was a kid. That's murderous talk to a ball.

Oh, I'm replaced back on the spot. Just time to check out the keeper and pick a side. Concentrate now. About to be whacked. Here we go….

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.137 21 Jun 2018
Written July 2006 and submitted to the BBC as part of a radio script submission request
First Published: Version 2.04 in Dec 2006

The Dog

A young Yorkshire Terrier puppy playing with a red ball.  A plastic bone is nearby
Dogs have no idea on how to play football. They just copy Suárez's biting techniques

Something’s going on, I’m sure of that.

It's the little things that you notice, like all the rushing around and the general buzz of excitement. Little things, like them coming home early but then not having dinner until late. It may be alright for them but I’m a regular sort. I like things as they were yesterday, as they were last week, last month. It’s mad enough at weekends and at holidays such as Christmas, but at least I get extra grub at these times. Right now I’m just being completely ignored and I’m not best pleased.

I'm aware that they all like to sit and stare aimlessly at that strange, noisy box in the corner of the room and mostly I'm happy with that. After all, getting my own head down is a skill I've mastered to a fine art. Those lazy hours can always be punctuated with the odd wander around for a bit of attention, or if I’m feeling a little mischievous I can always pretend to snore… Or fart.

This is different though. My dinner’s late, my stomach rumblings are genuine and every time I even get near that noisy box someone yells out quite unnecessarily loudly. Only yesterday I nosed over to see what all the fuss was about and I got a flying slipper for my trouble. Even my failsafe lay out on my back with my ears flat out and legs in the air doesn’t seem to attract their attention. But worst of all, now I want to go.

There may be tension in this room, rising and pitching like someone just found a key to a huge secret larder, then lost it again, but for me all the tension is in my bladder and it just keeps rising and rising. I learnt a long time ago not to use this room and that it really was in my best interests to wait until I go out. But I’ve waited nearly ninety minutes and there is no sign that anyone wants to go 'Walkies'.

Mind you, just now, even when I do get out in the park for a bit of a run there are always far too many kids there. All of them running around, kicking a huge ball and shouting at each other quite a lot. I wouldn't mind if I they let me join in but when I try they seem to get so upset then pretend I’m the ball and try to kick me. Not that they stand a chance against my speed and manoeuvrability. And what is it with this 'Rooney' name they shout?

I really hope this state of affairs doesn’t drag on all summer. In this heat that pungent smell of canned lager in this room is starting to overwhelm my sensitive nostrils.

What on earth can obsess these people so strongly?

It’s only been two weeks but I'm starting to think that if anyone else pointlessly shouts out 'Come on Engerland' I'll bloody well bite them.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.138 22 Jun 2018
Written July 2006 and submitted to the BBC as part of a radio script submission request
First Published: Version 2.04 in Dec 2006
The photograph shows the author's wife's Yorkshire Terrier puppy taken in Oct 1981, added on 27 Jun 2018

The Driver

The author photographed sitting in a blue Mercedes AMG GT V8 powered sports car
A professional driver. A powerful car. All that's needed is an empty road

Can you hear it? Just there, right now. That eerie silence.

Normally right here about this time there would be a cacophony of sound. It was there just a few minutes ago but now it’s all gone. All gone with the rest of them. Just me. And that beautiful silence. It's about time I changed all that.

[The sound of a V8 engine rumbles into life]

Now that's even better. The purest sound known to people like me. You can forget your whale song, newborn and opera, this is the best sound available to mankind. At least if your veins gush with four star and you pray to the God of Clarkson. And for us true petrol heads right here, right now is when we can get our biggest fix.

You see to really appreciate a car like this you need, well first off, a car like this. A thrilling combination of beauty, power and performance. But just as important you need space. Space to fulfil your dreams. Space to stretch her legs. Space to touch the edge of the envelope.

And don't go thinking that the reference to stretching her legs is some sort of sexual suggestion. No, for the true purist you can forget your Kirsten Scott Thomases and Angelina Jolies. Right now I wouldn't even have the gorgeous Vicky Butler-Henderson sat here. What I'm about to do is at its best as a solitary pursuit. You can’t say that about many things.

It is indeed a rare occurrence, blue moon, haystack needle sort of thing and I'm about to make the most of it. I'm at odds with the rest of the world but at peace with myself. On the starting grid of something truly spiritual. Outside, rebellious, dangerous, exciting.

This has all happened because of football. It’s never been my kind of thing really. Of course I sound authoritative discussing some points with my peers and often watch a publicised match or two. I even casually follow my local team's progress. However, I have a sneaking admiration for those that truly no nothing of the beautiful game and believe that the overpaid superstars really ought to get a proper job. But right now, when communal fervour has driven everyone inside and off my road I am truly grateful that it is our national sport.

[The V8 revs]

Did you hear that? Primed and ready to rock and roll. Not that I'm going to play any music. Truly great driving sounds come from pistons, intakes and exhausts. Motorhead has nothing on a V8 in a tunnel. And a tyre squeal sings better than Led Zep.

I'll have to be careful though. I won't quite be the only one out here for the next ninety.

I'm not talking about other demons like me. We are a rare breed and share an instinctive support for each other. If we pass there will be no tantrums, no drama. Fast at speed maybe, but in total control as only a true driving god is. We may kick at the speed of light but we know where and when it is right to go for a goal.

Even the mortals in their Sunny one-point-twos quietly going about their daily business, as oblivious to the tournament as they are to life in general won’t be a problem. My sudden presence then disappearance would only shock if they actually had the ability to react.

No, my real problem will be those boys in blue who are forced to miss the moment that everyone will be talking about for the next forty years. This will instil a deep rooted jealousy that can only be satiated by persecuting a man like me. I'll have to be on my game.

Kick off in five minutes time. Just like the others but for other reasons I've etched this time firmly in my psyche. Sat here in this lay-by counting down the minutes, then the seconds. Watching the fading remnants of morons racing past to get to their phosphor alters.

Nearly time to go. Nearly time for life to take its true meaning. Nearly there. The road ahead clears. No one around. Empty silence.

Dip clutch… first gear… final check over shoulder… ease out clutch… and we’re off.

[The V8 rumbles]

It is totally clear ahead and my freedom beckons. I can go any route I chose, like an eagle soaring through the skies. Left or right at this junction, the choice is only mine. Floor it now…

…With any luck I’ll make it back in time for the match.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.139 26 Jun 2018
Written July 2006 and submitted to the BBC as part of a radio script submission request
First Published: Version 2.04 in Dec 2006
The photograph shows the author sat in a Mercedes AMG GT, taken in May 2015, added on 27 Jun 2018

Turnstile Girl

I was there… I was there… I was there.

I keep on saying it, trying to ingrain it into my subconscious. As if somehow I might forget that today I was there on one of the greatest days that the nation has ever witnessed.

O.K. It may not rank up there with D-day, or the moon landings but for us today, my generation, this has got to rank as one of the best moments in history. You cannot get better than your team winning in the World Cup Final. And I can say - I was there.

Not for me the next forty years trying to recall where I was on this magnificent day. I'll always be able to remember - I was actually there.

Now you may think it strange that an English girl like me ended up here. After all, a few weeks ago I was hardly a football fan. Oh, I knew what most girls did, that David Beckham is reason enough to follow this sport, a real superstar, but I know of him through 'O.K! and 'Hello' rather than his football team, whatever that is. I don’t actually have a 'team' of my own and admit to being lost when my male friends try to impress me with their so called knowledge of the offside rule. But now I can tell them. You can keep your side rules, I was there. On the actual day. At the actual ground.

I nearly wasn't here. If it hadn't been for that au-pair job in Frankfurt falling through, or the chance meeting with Helga in that café that led me to staying here in Germany this summer. Nor the fact that the ground needed additional English speaking staff for the final… So many chances to have missed it, so many chances to have failed to be here.

Now it's getting near the end my heart is thumping so loud I reckon that I can hear it above all the din. The atmosphere here is terrific. Drums are beating, the crowd is singing, everyone chanting. We are three goals ahead and the opposition looks like it has given up. No question about who is going to win this. All you can hear are the supporters shouting out the goal-scorers names and that magical word - England.

Now it seems as if the stand above me is going to collapse, this part looks new to me I hope it stays up. I'm sure I can see those beams bending. Bending with Beckham, I reckon. I am so glad I came here. I'm so proud that I was there.

Mind you I wish I was up there. Up with the actual crowd. I'm at the World Cup final where England won and I'm all alone down here at my turnstile. It wasn't lonely earlier when all the late-comers were hurrying through but now there's no one. Even Dieter has gone upstairs. Mid-way through the second-half he asked if he could go up to see what was happening; noting how I was hardly a fan so wouldn't mind covering. I said yes, after all twenty minutes ago he wasn't incorrect. Plus he did say that he’d come back but so far he's a no show. I'm left alone here with no one else to share this moment. Tens of thousands of fans above and me, down here on my own.

Still. It doesn't change the facts.

I was there.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.142 29 Jun 2018
Written July 2006 and submitted to the BBC as part of a radio script submission request
First Published: Version 2.04 in Dec 2006

Monkey Business

Lynda in Gibraltar with a Barbary Ape tugging at her hair
A small monkey checking for signs of grey hair on a dominant female

It is fairly common knowledge that Kingpins in gorilla clans are called a Silverback.

These large males were, to my knowledge, silver in colour because of their age, because just like humans they go grey. However, a fact I discovered recently was that there can only be one Silverback in each gorilla clan.

If a new gorilla asserted itself on the group and successfully challenged the dominant male for the role then the newly demoted Silverback will revert back to being a black-back - He would loose the silver.

I discussed this with the misses and we had wondered why.

This was a few weeks ago I had accepted that I couldn't work out why and how this occurred. However it now appears that my other half had been mulling over this for some time.

Today she announced with great pride, as if discovering the cure for cancer, that this was in fact due to the gorilla realising it's dominance which promoted change. A physiological hormonal reaction.

If I am being honest I hadn't realised this in such clarity but I had given up considering the whys and wherefores because I realised that I wouldn't be able to answer the reasons on a chemical scale.

But her clarity did make me think that if gorillas can hormonally change their hair colour from silver to black then we as humans, being 99.9% similar on a biological level should be able to do the same. Or at least we should be able to artificially produce and use the same hormone.

Have we in our grasp the cure for age hair greying?

All we need to do is collect a hair from a Silverback and from a newly demoted ex-Silverback and make a DNA test for the difference.

All this supposes we can find someone brave enough to pluck a single hair off the back of (1) A dominant male gorilla who thinks he is the Lord of all beings and (2) A newly demoted gorilla who a few days ago thought he was the Lord of all beings and is now one very miffed monkey.

I deigned to suggest that I wouldn't be keen to carry out this next stage of discovery and got accused of being a complete lightweight.

Sometimes it really is hard being a superhero. The slightest crack in the armour and there are accusations of failure. I failed to be fully heroic over quite an insignificant matter and was accused of being a big girl's blouse.

My reaction? Typical Vince.

I likened the thought of being a blouse on a large girl as a positive thing.

But now she's not talking to me.

And I have to be careful, I've noticed she's going grey!

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.136 19 Jun 2018
First Published: Blog in Version 2.03 7 Jul 2006
The photo is of the author's wife, Lynda, interacting with a native, wild Barbary Ape in Gibraltar, in Oct 2005

June 2006

Poignant Verse

Thoughtful Verse


I wish I were a doctor
Then I'd know what's wrong with me
I'd use science and medicine
Not hypochondriary


Santa came round every year
One day he wasn't there
It isn't that he left me out
I just grew too old to care


Every day I saw the sun
One day there was no light
It wasn't that the sun went out
It's just I lost my sight


The weather outside is foul
I wish I were ten again
I used to see the puddles
Now all I see is rain

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.130 8 Jun 2018
First Published: Version 2.03 in Jun 2006

The vinceunlimited Safe As Houses Pitch

Cold War - Part Two

It is said that if you are unable to pitch a story within one minute then you will not command the attention of a Hollywood producer. If I had that minute, this is what I'd say.

Safe As Houses

The main character is a retiring CIA agent. Having lived undercover for most of his career he hadn't built a life so has accepted as gratitude for his sterling work a safe house to live in.

Hailing from a wealthy nation he is naturally given a large house. Unfortunately for him it backs onto a lesser suburb and in particular the small tatty garden of a retired drunken Russian.

Given the CIA man's career he is non too keen on his Red neighbour and constantly taunts him about 'the unfortunate fact that the Cold War had ended'. Eventually the relationship warms and the men start to discover more about each other. It transpires that they share similarities. The Russian is not only ex-KGB but was also his arch nemesis.

Hostilities once more erupt, cumulating in the building of a mini Berlin Wall between their properties. Will they be able to live happily ever after and once more thaw out the Cold?

I'm seeing Bob and Sean. What do you think luvvies?

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.303 14 May 2020
First published: Version 2.03 Jun 2006
Incorporated into Version 5 at Version m5.132 12 Jun 2018
Incorporated into the Screenplays page Version 5.303 14 May 2020

Speak To The Nation

A voice for all seasons

Each decade seems to have its own individuality. Examples like the 1950s Rockers, the 1980's excess, even the 1890's engineering.

However the 2000's are too young and incomplete to judge but early indications are that the time we are living now may well be remembered as the time of celebrity.

In fact, a particular brand of publicly available, disposable celebrity that every young person seems to think is their inalienable right.

And I think maybe a little known Dutch company is to blame.

Endemol Productions devised Big Brother almost a decade ago but now its tentacles spread far and wide. The phenomenon continues unabated and promises the dream of 'being somebody' to everyday nobodies.

The never ending contestants' limitless desire to achieve a career [read richies] out of merely being known is almost eqaully matched by our own natural voyerism into these real-life soap operas.

So endemic is the problem that natural talent is being side-lined for manufactured pop-culture.

A good example of this is the huge list of singing competitions. In the past to be a songbird usually meant teaming up with a writer and creating something, not rearranging someone else's work.

And as a writer this gnarls at my groin.

It's time to fight back and I'll do it in my old traditional way - by joining them!

Although scathing about the concept of fame TV I actually have a desire to be part of it.

I too am seduced by the promise of eeking out an easy living and would relish the lightweight, unearned adoration that entails the lifestyle. Cheap, but desireable nonetheless.

But Reality TV producer's don't come knocking at the door, at least not mine, so I need to get positive and the way I propose is to propose a way.

My idea is to set up a few video booths around the country and invite anybody who cares to leave any message they want.

They would be stationed in public squares, parks and stations and be the twenty-first century version of speaking at Hyde Park corner.

The messages will be recorded and sifted by a team of editors to extract the interesting from the banal, with the best featuring on a weekly programme.

Some may choose to record daily dairies, others may vent their spleen, but most will just be childish giggling and vociferous slang.

Not to worry, talent and interest will shine through and there will be gold amongst the dross.

I know you are now thinking that this has been done before. After all, even the failed contestants of some singing shows get their chance to prove in a video booth why they were not selected the first time round. So why would this format be successful?

The answer is money.

The twist would be that it would cost a nominal amount to record the message. The booths would operate only on the basis of fiscal intercourse.

In the same way that TV companies love programmes that force viewers to pay by voting on a telephony device, producers would love a TV system that pays for itself to be made.

All I need now is a TV Production Company and I'll be able to share the decade with the Dutch.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.133 13 Jun 2018
First Published: Version 2.03 in Jun 2006
'Big Brother' is a fly on the wall style documentary TV programme whereby miked up participants, chosen by their personalities and looks are grouped to live close to each other in a house surrounded by cameras to capture their every movement and conversation. The footage is edited to entertain and as time progresses the viewers get a chance to vote out the least interesting characters thereby ending with a winner who receives a cash award
If you are thinking this idea is just YouTube which is a widely used free service please note that I offered this idea in Jun 2006. YouTube was only founded as a web address in Feb 2005 and it took a few months to get funding and wasn't formally launched until Dec of that year. In mid 2006 it wasn't that well known, certainly not by me. In fact it wasn't until 2010 that I uploaded my first video to YouTube

April 2006

Coloured Chocolate


A partially unwrapped standard Terry's Chocolate Orange
A Terry's Chocolate Orange. The rare brown version

For years my favourite colour was brown. Even now I cannot decide on a suitable replacement.

Red seems so obvious and more interesting colours like burnt orange are too obscure and would mean I would spend all my time explaining why I chose that hue.

But brown is considered so bland. It is the colour of the country when all the lovely greenery gets trampled and the washed out colour that multiple shades of plasticine turn to when mixed.

Mind you, real fresh conkers are the most beautiful tone...of brown. And brown is the colour of chocolate, one of the best discoveries man ever made.

Chocolate is traditionally brown presumably due to the natural colouration of its main constituent, the cocoa bean. But most other foodstuffs can be coloured so why not chocolate?

And I know by now you are probably screaming at the screen that white chocolate is as common as the Milky Bar Kid in a top ten list of cheesy, spectacled children in TV adverts. But one alternative, sickly option is hardly a rainbow of choice.

Why can't we buy red, blue or even purple chocolate?

Why isn't a Terrys Chocolate Orange orange?

Kids would go crazy for the new hues, tempting them back into a snack that has been increasingly sidelined due to the modern obsession with skinny [I think chubby oiks are like that due to lack of exercise more than bad diet].

So Cadburys, Nestle, Terrys et al get your cochineal out and colour that choc.

Incidentally, I'll know when my idea has fully matured. Not when I can get strawberry chocolate in red but when I can specify my own shade.

And at that point I'll choose fresh conker. A gorgeous mix of browns.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.127 5 Jun 2018
First Published: Version 2.03 in Apr 2006
The photograph shows a Terry's Chocolate Orange and was taken by the author and added to the website on 11 Jun 2018

September 2005

Excel Battleships

Click, click, BOOM!

Photograph of the starboard side of the United States aircraft carrier USS George W Bush [CVN-77] carrying all it's aircraft on deck

Let's face it, working with computers all day long is really stressful.

Despite their promises of releasing us from the tyranny of work they have created an environment where the best companies use their PC's speed to trounce the opposition so creating a world that moves more efficiently using speed rather than smartness.

All at the cost of the PC operator, you and I.

To combat this relentless drive for efficiency we have devised cunning ways to relieve the boredom of computation such as surfing the net and playing the odd game of Solitaire.

The only trouble is that employers, under the guise of flattening work-structures and technospeak like flat-management and empowering, have increasingly opted for open-planned offices.

This means that the Pac-Man game on our screen can be seen by Sally from accounts across the room and she is one hell of a bitch when it comes to snitching, mainly because her own screen is facing her boss in that glass fronted office.

So what we need is a release from work without it being apparent and I think I have the idea - Excel Battleships.

Microsoft Excel is such an ubiquitous programme that we all have a copy, so if Sally spots a spreadsheet she doesn't have to get apoplectic.

And Excel can be worked on by multiple users simultaneously so dual gaming will be easy to set up.

Plus using tabbed sheets you could develop a real sense of depth.

Are you starting to see the attraction?

So if you want to distribute this concept send me a mail and I'll outline the details.

Obviously this idea may already be out there, that being the beauty of it we would never know.

But if it isn't I'll start - Try level 6/G54.

Did I hit your submarine?

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.109 30 Apr 2018
First Published: Version 2.02 in Sep 2005
The image is of the United States aircraft carrier USS George W Bush [CVN-77] anchored off Alverstoke Bay, Gosport in the English Channel taken by the author on 30 Jul 2017 and was added in Version 5.109 30 Apr 2018

Football - Extra Time


Photograph Vince, aged around six in shorts and white shirt on a sandy beach kicking a football
Pelé, Maradona, Ronaldo, Messi, Müller, Lineker, Poynter. All could kick a ball. Only one is known primarily for his skills on an Isle Of Wight beach

I'm male and English so statistically speaking I should be a football supporter.

Football is described as the national game and in any group of men numbering greater than two the subject is raised within 18 seconds of discussion. The only exception to this is groups of homosexual men or serious music buffs. And as the only place I'd like to see 'three tenners' is in my wallet I conclude that I am gay.

However I attempt to confront the serious issue of soccer and do try to follow the prospects of my local team. The trouble is that recently they have been demoted to the second best division which for reasons only known to Neanderthals and men in sheepskin coats is known as the First Division.

You see, football can be a complex issue and I haven't even breached the 'offside rule'.

But the most controversial part of any modern match is often the ending. A point where there is some similarity with serious music buffs - unfinished work.

As football is so pervasive in the modern era the opportunity to string out an inconclusive match over several re-visits is near on impossible. Couple this to the advanced skill level that the players perform to and the situation arises that it is almost impossible to differentiate between two sets of eleven overvalued prima donnas so match results are often stagnant.

Or to put it in simpler football terms - Modern knockout matches often 'go to penalties'.

Penalties are undoubtedly an exiting form of entertainment. The suspense of the situation, the simple errors that change fortunes and the personalised guilt all add to a thrilling conclusion to an otherwise dull result.

The problem with penalties is that they are not representative of the game that preceded them.

The game is a rich mixture of fitness, skills, strategy, challenges and tactics involving specialised components led by an on-field captain and supplemented by the wise knowledge of an off-field coach or manager. Whereas penalties are just whacking a stationary ball.

An alternative end-game scenario has already been used many times before, known as 'the golden goal'.

Here, both teams play a set extended time but if one team scores then they win, there and then. The disadvantage is that very often the goal never comes so the match ends again in unsatisfactory penalties.

The reason golden goals aren't scored is that teams are reluctant to attack as any failed offensive often leads to a reduced defence, so making an aggressive playing team vulnerable to counter-attack.

So called 'silver goal' options have been tried that continue a match at least to the half-way point of extended time to counter this negativity but teams are still reluctant to play positively. However, developing these themes I think I have the answer.

The 'golden' or 'silver' versions are fine but an added element is needed to guarantee an outcome.

My idea would involve all members of the team including the coaching and managing staff and is relatively simple. During extra time, every five minutes the coach should have to withdraw a player.

Eleven becomes ten, becomes nine etc. Eventually a goal would be scored because if just two opposing players were on the pitch one would be able to outwit the other.

Long before that though there would be great suspense at each five-minute period when the teams are rearranged and each opposing coach is forced to make tactical changes. For instance, at what point, if any, do you remove a specialist like a goalkeeper?

This idea would truly challenge the coach's skills as well as the players adaptability and fitness all in a footballing context.

Whether this could be adapted to other sports is debatable.

For instance if it were applied to American Football by the time all four hundred* specialist players were withdrawn one by one at five minute intervals the Superbowl final might last until December!

And an alternative option on female beach volleyball match conclusions could involve the addition of an extra player every five minutes until the beach was full. But is that just fantasy running away with me?

Still, it disproves the gay theory.

*I might be a bit out on these numbers by the way.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.111 2 May 2018
First Published: Version 2.02 in Sep 2005
At the time of first publication the author's local football team, Southampton FC, were being relagated to the Championship League following a poor showing in the Premiership. They wouldn't return until 2012
The image depicts the author on Sandown beach on the Isle of Wight. It was taken around summer 1967 and was added in Version m5.111 2 May 2018

Intelligent Shoes

Thinking on your feet

The world of fashion footwear is a major business. Each season top name manufacturers compete to produce more outlandish designs than their previous models and peers. There must be millions spent each year on designs to wow an eager public and develop bold, innovative ways of capturing the cash of a world-wide audience.

So why is it that I can come up with a novel idea and offer it to anyone whom cares to patent it? Along with suitable commissions of course.

It's because I'm such a nice guy.

Although training shoes seem to have developed to their zenith there are still ways to make a version stand out from the crowd and like all good ideas it is just an amalgamation of two previously unconnected current products - hence easy to develop and market.

My idea is to mix footwear with pedometers.

Pedometers are simple counting devices that work by a weight shifting about on each movement. After basic data is inputted the wearer of the device can calculate the distance covered and often more, such as calorie use and average speed. All this data is important to an image conscious fitness fan.

And techno fans would love a pair of shoes with an inbuilt LCD panel.

Of course, restricting the idea to training shoes would be underusing the technology so a range of different shoes could include a mini-computer.

As is the pattern of idea development it is wise to consider the downsides.

Cost shouldn't feature as pedometers often cost just a few pounds and shoes, in particular training versions, attract buyers even when the cost soars.

So the only downside is the potential big-brother factor.

Consider for a moment that the Post Office likes the idea and supplies all its postmen with versions. The daily trips could be monitored. Bonus paid on distances covered or deducted for skipping a street. Although in fairness skipping does take more energy! We already have spies in our vehicles do we want them on our feet?

And one last thought. Could this develop into the chastity belt of the 21st century?

Develop the idea into other areas of clothing and put a monitor on the spouse's underwear. Then check when you get home how often they have been up and down.

Now, sex, that is a major business.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.116 21 May 2018
First Published: Version 2.02 in Sep 2005
Article entitled Supershoes in Version 3 Mar 2010
At the time of writing my idea was genuinely novel. However with the passage of time the idea of attaching pedometers to sports shoes now seems commonplace. In fact the first and most notable example of integration between sports footwear and a pedometer came in the form of the Nike+iPod Sports Kit which was announced on 23 May 2006 and released on 13 July 2006, three quarters of a year after I published my idea. Coincidence?

August 2005

Maintaining The Good Start [Graded Facts Website]

From the Blog Section of the website

Although I never intended entries to be added daily the initial momentum carries me into the second entry under full steam.

However, I am already thinking that adding a [heading] next to the date may be an error. Often one of the most edited parts of my new pages whilst in preparation are the quick-fire headings. They have to be snappy and relevant whilst offering a subtle hint at the humour within the page. Not easy in a word or three.

It is a working day again but I grabbed a quick browse on the Internet within the BBC site (again) which led me to their h2g2 page. This is a growing collection of information that realises the ideas of it's founder, Douglas Adams, who envisaged such an information source in his novel 'The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy'. I'll no doubt return again to this ocean of knowledge in due course but today had a quick surf in the philosophy section where I discovered many fascinating gems.

One was a page answering the familiar conundrum about the chicken and egg (as I had already deduced it was the egg). This itself was not educational but a link to an alternative answer by Alice Kaswell amused me. In it she determined the result by posting both a chicken and egg to herself. You have to click the link [below] to read the amusing story.

Another article within the philosophy section briefly described transhumanism, which is the convergence of humans and technology to give us more than our three score and ten. Whilst reading this I had to suppress an urge to add a comment in a similar vein about an idea I have been working on. I'm often suppressing urges like this. It's been my nature since very young. Question and answer sessions following lectures normally see me asking probing questions.

In simple terms my particular idea envisages a future time when due to progress humans can live forever but as their reproduction would soon swamp the world a choice would have to be made between longevity and procreation. Most parents claim they would sacrifice themselves over to protect their offspring but if it came to it would they? And if they were given a choice of kids or long life what would they choose? I think this could make a fascinating subject of a film so didn't post it on the site.

It just goes to prove that when I spend time reading and regurgitating the thoughts of others I am not preparing my own. Just like the writing of this blog prevents me from developing fresh new pages on my site. So a genuine philosophical question arises, the sort that becomes harder to answer the more it is considered.

Is this website better without this blog?

Of course there are many other side issues developing here.

I'm reminded that yesterday I came to the conclusion that virtually no-one has an original idea and even the most original thinkers and raconteurs are merely restating in their own manner all things that they have previously absorbed. Or at least that's what I do!

Each person has a stack of knowledge that is in part passed on to a variety of others.

A few months ago I thought I might try to record all I know in some sort of database for no other reason than my ego thinks it would be useful to others. I was going to add it as a sub-section of this site, entitled 'The Knowledge'.

I procrastinated as it is a major undertaking that may take some time to develop into a useful database and the sapling versions would be hollow. Further it would, by its nature, lack humour, the underpinnings of this site, so it is still on the back burner. Barely alight to be honest and now almost extinguished by the discovery of Mr. Adams' BBC offspring.

My version had one feature not on the BBC site which is that I envisaged all my facts to be graded.

I figured that each subject should have three categories. Firstly, the basic explanation, almost a precise brief dictionary expression. In the second category there would be a few facts and interesting related asides, the sort of fact that would impress at a dinner party without appearing to be an anorak. Then finally the third level would be the full anorakal description.

So I have a choice. Develop my original idea - this will take literally years and may be superseded long before it matures. Secondly I could invite the formal BBC site to take on my grading idea. And thirdly just get on with my work again.

I'll take three.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.100 17 Aug 2018
First Published: Version 2.01 26 Aug 2005
The BBC no longer maintains the h2g2 link. It is still live and can be found at
Wikipedia was launched in Jan 2001 and had about half a million entries by the time my article was posted from around 750 contributors. The lack of my mentioning this source leads me to believe I wasn't fully aware of this information source at the time of original posting
The Alice Kaswell link is
I have not finished with my idea about human longevity and am currently working on a book called 'The Southampton Conundrum' which explores some ideas in this field.

July 2005

The vinceunlimited PDA Crossword Idea

PDown, PDAcross

Please note that this article has dated due to technological advancements over the past decade(s) so should be considered in this context. The idea below was first published in Jul 2005, two years before the release of the iconic Apple iPhone, a Smartphone which revolutionised touch screen graphic displays. And a full three years before the Apple App Store.

However web based apps were around at the time.

The Useful PDA

Useful little things PDAs. Handheld electronic gizmos with nearly the same power as laptop computers. I really should get one.

With all the commuting I do it would certainly get some use.

Right at the moment I'm lugging a twenty-stone laptop backwards and forwards to work because my client doesn't provide adequate security at my place of work. I hate working on construction sites. I'm going to have to work some new idea to give me a more satisfying income.

But although novel, I'm not sure this idea will be the one.

PDA's in use

Seeing others tap away at their handhelds on regular occasions I often glance to see what they are working studiously on.

After all, with me I would be penning, if that's the correct PDA expression, my next website entry. It is all hand-coded using a basic text editor so that would be easy to use on the move.

But alas, I never see interesting work, just mainly games.

Screenshot of a penned outline for a game idea showing a sectional view of a water tank with some interconnecting pipes, pumps, meters etc.
Tank Game proposal. No Shermans, Tigers or Churchills involved

Not that Tetris is bad, I find it highly addictive and wish I had invented it. Closest I've come to inventing PDA software is an idea I have about a game where the player has to fight to plug holes in a tank that is slowly emptying its water, whilst maintaining pressure by manually running a pump. The screenshot of my penned idea is on the right.

Birth of an Idea

Those on the train that aren't playing Tetris, sleeping or chatting loudly on their mobiles [If you struggle to hear them it doesn't mean they can't hear you dear] are usually seen reading the paper.

But when that runs out the pen is extracted and the Crossword on the back page is started. This is where my idea comes in.

Crossed Wires

I have never, ever seen anyone doing a Crossword on a PDA. Why not? Do they exist? If not, then the idea has now been breached.

So, all you PDA software developers out there get coding and come up with the world's first PDA Crossword software, but remember where you heard about the idea. I think commission should start with a shiny new PDA for me, bundled with all the usual applications and your new Crossword software.

But not Tetris, because I'll never use anything else and my website will shrivel up and perish.

Been There Before?

Please note that if you already know of a PDA Crossword software package let me know the details and I'll update this page.

That will be after I have checked out its development date of course.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.095 6 Apr 2018
First Published: Version 2.01 in Jul 2005
Screenshot of tank game added 13 Apr 2018


Is it a bird, Is it a plane. More importantly does it keep out the rain?


Coats - Can't really be improved can they? A few fashion changes, an odd button, pocket, colour or length perhaps. Even an exotic material. They have all been tried before yet our concept of a coat is still basically unchanged.

Until now.

I have two ideas that may be of interest to the coat suppliers of the world and one is so staggeringly simple I'll wager that within five years half of all coats will feature it.

And this fantastic idea is presented here, published on the web, ready and waiting for it's first commercial customer to sweep it up and make the supplier and I rich beyond our wildest dreams.

Well perhaps not that rich, but only because of my fertile imagination. I'm not the sort who upon winning the lottery would suggest I buy my dream car then announce that it's a Ford Orion.

But I am going off at a tangent here and in danger of everyone thinking that I'm talking about a coat of paint. Which I'm not.


However, before we get to the staggeringly simple idea, how about another simple idea, perhaps just not so staggeringly so.

The idea came to light whilst on one of my unbelievably long commutes in the company of South West Trains.

A passenger nearby, carried out his daily routine of extracting a felt-covered neoprene collar and inflating it to support his head during the next hour and a half's sleep.

Instead of doing the same myself - that is going to sleep, not inflating a personal rubber ring - I started thinking that although he looked like a complete pimple he also looked very comfortable.

All I needed was to merge the idea of the inflatable collar with something less conspicuous.

It was obvious - my coat should feature the inflatable device.

That way I could discreetly give it a blow job [as it were] and rest in peace. Then on awakening from my slumber I could discreetly exhale the air and carry on with my day, fully refreshed.

There are a few drawbacks, such as the potential for leaks when some careless mutton pins a badge on your lapel when you visit the local convention, or the potential for farty sounds emerging when deflating your ring piece [as it were]

But on the whole it would be a good accessory for long distance commuters.

Another added bonus would be the potential to develop the idea into quickly inflated airbags for accident-prone pedestrians. Perhaps this aspect could be developed for motorcycle jackets, for accidents, not for resting on the motorway!

Further developments on the inflatable collar idea could be other parts of clothing with inflatable inserts.

A coat with additional comfort at the elbows perhaps, or a pair of trousers with a bum inflator for comfort. Although, if you are thinking of developing a patent on that one with me I think we ought to check out J-Lo first. She may already be on to it.

Sucker For Development

So, onto my main pièce de résistance in the redesign of the coat and as promised it is a simple idea.

As usual the idea sprang to mind when I encountered a problem and this one was where to put my jacket at the office I was working in at the time.

The usual places didn't suit the suit. The coat stand was overused and far to near the door for my liking and the back of my chair was too low to prevent the corners of a hung jacket dragging on the ground.

I wanted to hang it on the side of the cabinet but the office hadn't thought of providing a handy hook. Naturally, I went out and purchased, at great personal expense, a small plastic stick-on, white hook with peelable double sided tape.

Whilst waiting for the opportunity to purchase said item during that lunch-time I mused that it would be handy if the hook was already there in my jacket.

Thus came about the idea of a built in hanger and what could be simpler and cheaper than a built in rubber sucker.

So that's it. There's the killer device.

A simple inbuilt suction pad installed behind the collar in every coat.

It's O.K., no need for applause.

The Gauntlet

So who will help develop the supercoat?

With a built in inflatable collar and rubber suction pad.

Coats - evolutionally speaking just starting don't you think?

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.098 13 Apr 2018
First Published: Version 2.01 in Jul 2005
Inevitable note due to the passage of time: Unfortunately my second idea did not get developed in the first five years, or maybe not at all. Yet. So I was wrong. Sorry. I apologise, unreservedly. You can have my resignation letter from the internet by next Wednesday. But wait. Idea one, the inflation of clothing to protect motorcyclists is with us today. Someone ran with it and that's not easy in an inflated jacket. However both motorbike air bags and my idea are well pre-dated by inflatable personal buoyancy devices [life jackets to you and me] which were first developed in 1900 by French electrical engineer, Gustave Trouvé. Later on, 1928 in fact, or about half past seven at night, the idea was developed into the 'Mae West' life jacket. This fact led me on to checking Wikipedia to see when inflatable dolls were first invented but there is no record, plus I don't think carrying one of these on the train to take a nap on would be very convenient. Or socially acceptable

February 2005

The Big (Issue) Idea

You were begging for it

By some standards I am not an overtly charitable person.

I don't set fire to Oxfam shops or kick Labradors or anything like that but equally if a 'charitable' group deluges my post-box with empty envelopes hoping that they may be filled with silver and returned then they will be sadly disappointed.

And I'm not the first to dig deep in my pockets to give money to the needy on the streets.

It is not that I dislike charity I just believe that as a society we handle the situation wrongly. The more that individuals give the less the need for society to contribute.

I do not object to my taxes being used to help those less in need but do think that it should be a government or council body deciding on distribution to meet genuine needs rather than rely on the success or otherwise of money raising campaigns. Why should a charity with a cute mascot or one with a big budget get the healthiest return?

Inevitably, one set of losers from my stringent policy is street beggars. And there must be quite a few like me as begging has developed to become high tech to compete. Well, I mean high tech in the comparitive world of scruffy tramps.

Now, instead of asking for money in a menacing fashion homeless people can now sell a service, a magazine called The Big Issue. It even has its own website - I told you it was high tech.

Now I have often passed these one product newsstands and seen the vendor struggle to sell their magazine, despite some high profile guests and modern looks. The problem is image and the thought that it is cover to cover with dreary stories of despair, which it isn't.

But being me, I had an answer.

Once, when a scruffy lad asked if I wanted to swap one of my hard earned pounds for his magazines I initially politely declined and started to pass by, when an idea dawned on me.

I stopped and suggested he could either take the price of one magazine in exchange for said article or I could give him an idea to sell hundreds more.

Being a thoughtful, considerate man he mused over the offer for a second or two then demanded his pound.

Then announced in a slur "You're my best friend, you".

Alas, he had missed the opportunity of his lifetime.

In a charitable manner I am now going to give out the advice I had to anyone reading this article.

You see, it occurs to me that the street magazine sellers are missing out on one of the most populous parts of city society - the tourists. And my idea will make the magazine appealing to all of them.

Add a map of the city


Now, when you have recovered from the shock of such a simple idea and wondered why you hadn't thought of it you might start to consider the pitfalls.

Copyright is the major downside. Some companies make quite a profit out of selling 'disposable' maps of cities to tourists so they are hardly likely to allow their map to be used. And our national map supplier is not known for it's charitable work.

But this is where the idea still holds ground. Why not draw the city from scratch?

I know that would be a labour consuming process but hey, isn't that what these people do? Walk the streets all day?

The only other pitfall I can see is the image issue.

Do our town mayors want all the tourists approached by a scruffy urchin offering a rain sodden map and a promise that "You're my best mate, you"?

But to deny the scheme for this reason alone would be uncharitable, wouldn't it?

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.063 31 Jan 2018
First Published: Version 1.03 in Feb 2005
The Big Issue magazine scheme was launched in London in 1991 to help rough sleepers move from street begging to selling a service and now costs £2.50 per copy with 50% of that price going directly to the vendor. Their website is

Escalator Etiquette Idea

Mounting Excitement

It's a nice idea to be able to set a trend but I'm having a little difficulty getting this one going all on my own. After all my influence on thousands is fairly limited so maybe all readers could help here.

I say all readers but in truth this only really applies to those in busy metropolii[*]. My personal experience is of the metropolis called London but I guess that this could be a worldwide idea. Though not so much use in the Outer Hebrides.

On escalators it is now normal for those that are too fat, unfit or even have too much time on their hands to stand still and let the moving stairs do the work.

This is appallingly lazy and frankly a hindrance to all those who are too stressed to stand still for thirty seconds.

This lacklustre attitude causes mayhem in many places and as such it has become commonplace in big cities for those that stand to occupy just one side of the travellator allowing others to rush up the other side. This system works quite well so I can't express improvement here.

However, what I do find though is that the escalators are just not quite wide enough for this difference in speed.

Maybe we have all become wider? I know quite a few that would fit that category and some so wide they would have to fit in the next category up.

And the problem is exasperated in winter when everyone dresses like they are in Siberia. Big people in big coats mean a big problem.

But I have a little solution.

I thought of the idea whilst trying to hare up one of the escalators in London. I had travelled halfway up and realised I was adopting a contorted angular shape with my torso. Not easy in public, I assure you. I had this strange forty-five degree gait to avoid crashing into every stationary pedestrian. After all, crashing past with impunity is not only sometimes painful but so terribly rude.

And there is a simple solution that doesn't involve shutting down the underground systems for years on end - sorry Unison.

Why don't the stationary people stand at a jaunty angle?

Simple eh?

This would aide all parties with very little effort. The hares could charge up and get to their heart attack with ease and the tortoises would not have their left shoulders dislocated.

This could be reinforced with signs such as 'Stand on the left, at an angle'.

As an inventor of ideas I am of course duty bound to look at the pitfalls as well as the benefits but I am at a loss as to think of them.

There are even added benefits for the businesses that provide these escalators. All those stood at an angle will be turned toward all the revenue giving advertising. And those that stand still on rising escalators will not have to have their face buried in the bottom of the person in front.

I'm sold, I'll be doing it from now, will you?

After all, as I said at the beginning - I can't do this all by myself.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.064 2 Feb 2018
First Published: Version 1.03 in Feb 2005
* Question: What is the plural of Metropolis? It is a Greek word so it should be metropoleis. However the word comes to English via the Latin so perhaps should be metropoles. Google cites a common spelling as metropolises. This is why I am not correcting my own spelling as Metropolii. Let's see who wins here

March 2004

The vinceunlimited Mobilevend Idea

Quick Ringing

An image of a simple mobile phone with small dot matrix type screen
Just a simple mobile telephone. But not simple enough

Let's face it they are here to say.

We moan about the silly annoying ringtones and poor reception, claiming that they are the curse of modern society but we all have one tucked away don't we.

A mobile phone, of course.

The subject of where they are tucked is another matter completely and not for these pages right now. But every now and then we get caught short.

Perhaps you forgot to take the little blighter with you.

Perhaps you are away from home, or on holiday where your current cheapskate reception doesn't reach. You may be on the beach, you lucky devil and didn't bring the phone because you hate that telling bulge in your thong.

And then you forgot that you needed to call aunty, to cancel the milk.

It's no good relying on BT.

They used to put a telephone on every corner but drunks got them confused with loos.

And it's no good asking anyone to lend you their pride and joy. They will only think you will run off with it and use the miserly 25p credit they have.

No, what we need is a 21st century version of the phone box.

So what about vending machines?

They are so ubiquitous that the chances are when you need a phone there will be one nearby.

And the costs? Mobiles are getting cheaper all the time and I'm sure they could be mass-produced for a few quid.

They wouldn't need memories, games, WAP connection and colour screens.

They may not need screens at all. All they need is a keypad. I'm sure I remember a design like this many years ago!

So how about it. Who's gonna be the first?

Oh, and by the way. Remember this was my idea. So use this new 'phone to give me a call and discuss terms.

I may be an ideas man but that doesn't mean I don't want richies beyond my wildest dreams.

And a new thong.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.171 12 Aug 2018
First Published: Version 1.02 in Mar 2004
An image was added in Version 5.055 on 10 Jan 2017 and depicted a relatively simple Nokia mobile phone. The [highly cropped] image was taken on 5 Feb 2008 on an original Apple iPhone. This helps to understand the idea in date context. The mobile phone vending idea was originally published four years earlier than this
Mobile phone vending machines are now common in some parts of the world. But was the idea of a simple, single or so use, throw away design ever offered?
Interesting fact: Vodaphone introduced the Quickphone kiosk, dispensing cheap mobile phones, allegedly the first of this kind in Britain in late 2005. About 18 months after I posted this idea. Coincidence? [Source: The Telegraph website, article by David Derbyshire dated 27 Oct 2005]

The Radio Text Idea

Cheap Texting - Saving a fortune on text messaging

A Virgin branded Philips mobile phone and kit, featuring packaging box, manuals, charger and headphones
A typical budget texting mobile phone that was used around 2004

As a writer I am still able to wonder at the beauty of the English language and derive pleasure from ensuring that my work is grammatically correct.

This is why I so despair at the gradual erosion of our beloved language into a staccato of symbolic minimalism encompassed so willingly in modern texting.

Other times I may view this mindset as a bit grammatically pedantic. More French than our ever evolving English. After all, as a writer a changing language gives you many more tools to construct with. So why shouldn't I abbreviate abbreviate to abbrev8 or abr?

So my real concern is not the flexibility that abbreviation gives but the fact that in truth the technique is developed as a lazy result of our modern immediate society.

Notwithstanding all that it will not prevent me from profiteering from an idea based on this trend.

From what I read in the media one of the most common places to find texting on a frankly industrial scale is within schools and I understand that even the youngest of kids is keen to get going. The net result is a phenomenal profit for the big telecomm companies at the expense of the poor parent's wallets.

So I have devised a way of texting within schools for free.

The idea emanates from a two-way radio I purchased. The radio itself was pretty useless at the task that I wanted it for so it was consigned to the eBay bin but a feature interested me. The radio included a button labelled Morse.

After discounting the fact that this might summons a policeman from Oxford in a tatty Jag I thought it wouldn't be too hard to develop this into a simple radio frequency text facility.

A simple keypad and chip could translate the keyed entries into Morse Code and send them through the airwaves. The receiving machine could pick up the Morse and translate it bk in2 txt.

Dmn, I swor I wd nvr do tht.

There would be a couple of technical hurdles to traverse.

The first to spring to mind is the problem of limited transmission frequencies but the chip could incorporate a simple encoding key.

Another problem could be the relative speed of keypad entry compared to the standard speed of Morse Code but there is no reason that if it is an inter-electronic communication that the Morse couldn't be transferred at higher speeds. In a way the dashes would become mere dots and the dots a blurry dash.

Do you know what? I'm cming rd 2 this txtg idea aftr all.

In hndsite u cud cnsidr it a nw art form, clevrly constrctng new smpler ways 2 cmmunic8 evr mor rapidly. Englsh has movd on frm Shkspere an we shld mov on frm the stffy grmmar of r parnts.

Ys, Im hookd.


So, the options are as follows:

  • You are a budding Engineer and want to develop the idea and deprive the giant Telecomm Corporations out of millions of pounds making yourself a fortune into the bargain - Email me and we'll thrash out the patent details.

  • You represent a giant Telecomm Corporation and want to bury this idea - Email me and suggest a sum of money that would encourage me to remove this idea from cyberspace.

  • You are an expert in grammar and want to correct the syntax on this page - Email me nicely.
  • Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.171 12 Aug 2018
    First Published: Version 1.02 in Mar 2004, well before the age of unlimited calls and texts. The lack of reference to Bluetooth functionality in the article suggests that I was unaware of this technology at this time. Bluetooth was first announced on 20 May 1988 and the Bluetooth 2.0 specification in 2004 with variant 2.1 not being adopted until 26 Jul 2007
    Text updated based on Version 3.0 Mar 2010
    The image was updated to a photo of a Virgin branded Philips Savvy DB mobile phone kit in Version 5.171 12 Aug 2018

    October 2003


    Photograph of an ant

    These song lyrics were originally written and published in October 2003 in the original version of the vinceunlimited website and are intended to be the opening song in a musical about ants.

    In case you are feeling a bit of déjà vu here I conceived the concept about a rebel ant when the cold war started to thaw. Yes that long ago.

    The story is an allegory about individualism in a closed equalitarian society. Designed way before the Disney / Pixar Animation team released their feature length cartoon A Bug's Life. And before Dreamworks' Antz as well. The release of these films caused a pause in my tracks.

    However, the concept differs from these films so my idea may still have legs. Hopefully, at least six. It's just that I know everyone will say I pinched the theme from others. It kinda shows how concepts must be finalised, the early bird will always get the worm. Or the ant in this case.

    Still I'm not defeated yet I need to up the ante. One day I intend to develop it in the format I originally intended it for. As a musical. The songs will all be written, eventually. Some, one, or more are already done. As can be seen below.

    Click on the 'Ants' button below to see more about the musical.

    The unedited original lyrics are reproduced below and await some musical accompaniment. Can you assist?


    From the musical by Vince, provisionally entitled Ants

    Chorus (chant)
    We are ants.
    We are ants.
    We are ants.
    We are ants.
    Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants.
    Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants.
    We are ants.

    We are here, we belong.
    From the start, all along.
    A simple life we all live.
    Nothing taken. We all give.

    We are cogs in a machine.
    Individuals. Rarely seen.
    It's one for all and one for all.
    No exceptions to the rule.

    We all try to help the cause.
    We sacrifice without a pause.
    If we survive then that's O.K.
    Then we all live another day.

    We have no time to work it out.
    There's finding food and work about.
    Helping out we have our slot.
    That is all an ant has got.

    We are ants.
    Yeah, we are ants.

    Leafcutter Ant only
    I'm Leafcutter. That's my quest.
    In the trees. Doing my best.
    Bringing back the food to store.
    Turning round and fetching more.
    Weaver Ant only
    I build the home where we all stay.
    Supergluing through the day.
    Squeezing larvae to get the glue.
    I am Weaver through and through.
    We are ants.
    Yeah, we are ants.
    Honeypot Ant only
    I feed myself until I fill.
    So stuffed with food I'm standing still.
    Though not for me I'm Honeypot.
    When times are lean I give my lot.
    Soldier Ant only
    A head so strong. Tough mandible.
    I am designed to make a kill.
    When Soldier ant's about they flee.
    But what I crush ain't up to me.
    We are ants.
    Yeah, we are ants.


    We are glad to be a part,
    Of a team with just one heart.
    In terms of pride we have one aim,
    No matter what we're all the same.

    We are ants.
    Yeah, we are ants.
    We are ants.
    Yeah, we are ants.

    (to fade)

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.013 27 Oct 2017
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts an ant, which may or may not be chanting and was added in Version 5.004 10 Oct 2017
    Preheader incorporated into article and image updated: Version 5.013 27 Oct 2017

    Fluorescent Roads

    The long and shiny road

    Image of a light blue Peugeot 406 coupe travelling on a road
    The road could be painted a lovely blue colour. To match the car

    The technology that brings us reflective white paint to help guide us on our roads at night is one of man's greatest achievements. Obviously not in the league of the wheel or Penicillin. Or even bicycle clips. But pretty much up there.

    As you hare down a country lane at night a pair of brilliant white lines guide you from one curve to another. The experience is surreal.

    But, as usual, there is a limitation. In many cases, whilst we enjoy the reflection from the central lines sub-dividing the carriageways there isn't always an edge marker. And let's face it, the less unnecessary white paint embellishment on our country lanes the better.

    Now, we cannot just paint the whole road surface because then we wouldn't be able to see the central white dividing lines. Plus the grip (for those of us who go quick enough to need it) would be severely reduced, particularly in the wet, the cost of paint would be exorbitant and, quite frankly, it would be an eyesore.

    Unless the paint could be made black. And reflective.

    So, we need a solution. How about making the roads fluorescent.

    Add a luminescent compound to the Tarmac* mix. That way all the light absorbed during the day will be magically converted to a bright ribbon of road at night.

    Just think of all the gorgeous colours that could be generated. Plus, the motorways could be coloured blue, the main roads green, the minor roads red and the little lanes yellow. All to match my road atlas.

    We'll never turn onto the wrong road at night again.

    Admittedly, as far as I know, luminescent paint is slightly radioactive. So all our cars will need lead underseal (lead underpants for cyclists). Then the handling and performance will be affected. So we won't be able to go quick after all.

    Come to think of it, it's a silly idea. I tell you what - let me take another look at that bicycle clip concept again.


    Added Version 2.04 Dec 2006

    Some cad has been reading this page. I really don't see why the parents can't be held responsible but there you go. He even suggested that carrying out the florescentising of our roads might be a bit confusing to airline pilots, a consideration that I clearly overlooked. With such fine forethought you would have thought he would have his own website. or something. Ooops. I'm meant to be encouraging feedback.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.142 29 Jun 2018
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts a Peugeot 406 Coupe travelling on a typical British A-road, taken by the author in April 2016 and was added in Version 5.024 24 Nov 2017
    *Little known fact: Tarmac is a registered name used in a generic way, much like Hoover

    Lane Discipline

    A motorway scene
    Lane discipline is good here. Probably. If you ignore the empty lane on the left, that is

    I'm a fan of driving. Sure there are many reasons why I shouldn't be. Take a peek at my opinion on driving habits if you need to see a few reasons why. But I am also an optimist, if things are bad they can be fixed.

    All we need is the will and a bit of clever thinking. And that is a speciality of mine. I have worked out how we can reverse one of the worst habits of British motoring by changing some simple rules.

    Why not let people who drive correctly, drive faster?

    We all want to go quicker but need to do this responsibly. Here is the way.

    Without changing the rules about only overtaking on the right, let us allow drivers to go quickest on the inside lane, then progressively slower in the outer lanes.

    Sounds crazy? Well just think about it for a moment.

    Imagine a three-lane motorway. When you are driving along with no other traffic (remember the seventies?) I propose that you should be able to charge along safely to your hearts content.

    If you then come upon a slower vehicle ahead then you will need to move out a lane to pass. But you have to temper the speed a bit and go past carefully. If you again want to get going once past you will be encouraged to move back to lane 1 to be allowed to travel again at speed.

    And when the traffic is so bad that all three lanes are needed then all the overtaking in lane 3 has to be so much slower, therefore safer. It is a self-restricting system. Slow when busy but with less restrictions when the roads empty.

    And drivers will voluntarily move over to the left after overtaking. Simple. Like all great ideas.

    Of course, the set limits would have to offer something if this is to be sold as a good system. If the government gets hold of this idea then some quango think tank will decide that on motorways the limits should be 70, 60 and 50 mph. Much easier to sell the idea to a sceptical public at 90, 70 and 60 mph.

    Mind you it won't stop the arsehole cruising along at 60 in the centre lane, clogging up the whole system. For that I propose a simpler system. That I shall be legally allowed to carry a firearm and shoot him.

    (Note: Americans and Europeans will have to read this page in a mirror to get the idea)

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.023 23 Nov 2017
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
    The image depicts a typical British motorway scene and is used to illustrate lanes being used. There is no implication to suggest the vehicles are in the correct or incorrect lanes. The image was added in Version 5.023 23 Nov 2017 and updated in Version m5.024 24 Nov 2017

    LCD Car Windows [Updated 2005]

    The new black in car windows

    Image of a blue Range Rover with black out side windows
    Blacked out windows. They should have bought a van instead

    Maybe it's because I wear glasses and so cannot instantly pick up the oh-so-fashionable Oakleys everytime the sun comes out.

    Maybe because I hate it when all those pillocks keep their sun visors down long into the evening, or later. Or forever.

    Or is it just that I hate that time in a winter's evening when the sun is right in your face, just above the steering wheel rim.

    I think we need to do something about sunny days.

    Why not use LCD technology to automatically black out car windows on a summers day?

    It's a well-known science, relatively cheap and controllable. Look at the watch on your wrist (no, not you Mr. Breitling). Control could be light sensitive, or switched by yet another button with a strange logo on the dashboard.

    Just imagine you've been out cruising all night, so your windows are clear. It's early morning and you are thinking of an excuse to tell the boss that you need a day off. You know, dead grannies, leaves on the line, working from home; that sort of thing. When you pull up next to a car and it's the man-boss himself, on his way to work.

    Just flick the switch and your car becomes a haven of seclusion. Or a Mafia staff car. Yes, you too could look like a reclusive film star. In your twenty-six year old Datsun Cherry.

    There is only one problem as far as I can tell. Legislation would prevent the technology being applied to front windscreens, so all the problems listed above would still irritate me.

    I guess I'm gonna have to get that Laser Surgery done so I can wear the bloody Oakleys.

    Plate Tech Tonic [Addendum]

    A new thought has occured to me since writing this piece in 2003.

    Why not apply the technology to the transparent surface of a car number plate? With a switch operation this could be utilised in the unfortunate event of being caught going a bit quick near a wayward speed camera - much safer than madly braking don't you think?

    Put the device on a timer and it would revert to looking normal soon after passing said revenue collector.

    The timer device wouldn't be so useful when fleeing a bank robbery though and it's all probably highly illegal, so don't say I told you to do it.

    Braking Down [Additional addendum]

    Another idea [here we go again] for avoiding those pesky fines from those unmarked cameras that spring up suddenly would be to mount a rear braking light around the number plate.

    That way it will brightly illuminate just at the point the speed is being ... er ... corrected, cleverly obscuring the number whilst braking but remaining undetected whilst innocently parked up.

    It would only work on rear facing cameras, if at all.

    However, it is also still probably illegal but a defence, if questioned, could argue that plates are there for vehicle ID when driving off. If the brake light is on the vehicle is stopping.

    I think my fees as a motoring lawyer have just increased, M'lord.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.084 19 Mar 2018
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    Addenda First Published: Version 2.00 in May 05
    The image was added in Version 5.025 27 Nov 2017. It depicts a blue Range Rover with blacked out windows, taken by the author in April 2012. That is, the photo was taken, not the car. That would be theft. And naughty


    Photograph of a short two seater smart car in a bay marked short stay
    Definitely short. Unlike this figcaption which has an unnecessary second sentance

    The shortest story of all time

    The most difficult thing when writing a novel is to start.

    And now that I have I can finish.

    The end

    Please note that due to the brevity, this story is not embedded in a downloadable file, saved in a .pdf file format or zipped. It is also not available in paperback or at any bookstore, whether good or not. No translations have been made and copies are not available. The author would not like to acknowledge or thank anyone for their assistance. Frankly, he's embarrassed at even being mentioned.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.038 14 Dec 2017
    Written before Oct 2003
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image was added in Version 5.038 14 Dec 2017 and depicts a smart ForTwo car in a short stay parking bay. It was taken by the author in Mar 2016

    Sweet Tea

    A Refreshment Revolution

    Photograph of the author in a suit serving tea to a table full of pensioners whilst some workers look on
    One lump or two? I said, one lump or two!? Oh, never mind, it's turned out nice again

    I love tea. But then again I am supposed to. I am British. I even wrote a prose on the subject.

    Admittedly, the way I take it - black, weak and with one sugar is a little unconventional. If it is an inviting, red, watery, sweet liquid where you can clearly see the base of the cup I'm a happy bunny. The taste is so subtle, not disrupted by the artificial thickness of bovine mammoidal fluid.

    I learnt to appreciate the subtleness of tea as a drink after a Japanese restaurant supplied me with green tea. An oriental fusion of hot water with bits of their garden chucked in it. Strange to the eye but welcome in the mouth. The Japenese have been drinking it like this for hundreds of years before they told me. How inconsiderate is that?

    This ancient heritage can be easily traced because in essence tea has hardly changed since the first chinaman boiled a pan of water in autumn. That is why the British love it. We are superb at tradition. So much so the developments in tea distribution have been few and far between.

    For a start there was the tea bag. A major revolution. And then. Well almost nothing.

    Except tea bags of various shapes offering dubious claims to increase efficiency. I don't even want my flavour to flood out. I take it red ferchrissakes.

    So when I came upon this idea I thought I could claim a landmark. A revolution in tea making. A quantum step no less.

    Will they name it after me?

    Like all good ideas it is simple and comes from need.

    Recently, I tried to make a cup of tea but there was no sugar. Someone had used the last of it and all that remained were a few grains amongst the coffee granules.

    Little interim note, if you have coffee with sugar - put the sugar in first so the spoon doesn't contaminate the sugar. That coffee granule really spoils my weak tea. And I'm tea total, I never drink coffee.

    Anyway, back to the case in point. I wanted a cup of tea and there was no sugar. I looked at the teabag. If only the sugar was already in it I thought.

    One of those little lightbulb thingies illuminated over my head and there it was.

    Tea bags, containing tea and sugar.

    A marketing edge.

    I even have the logo. "Sweet tea's the one for me".

    Do you have the ability to turn this into a consumer product with me? Tea bag and sugar producers click away.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.039 15 Dec 2017
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
    The image was added in Version 5.039 15 Dec 2017 which depicts the author serving afternoon tea to some pensioners whlst some co-workers look on


    A nonsense written in 1992

    A photograph of Vince with a tea mug squatting in front of a row of white Mercedes-Benz E Class cars

    When I get up in the morning,
    I really can't stop yawning,
    Until I've had my first of the day.
    And before I sleep at night,
    I insist on my right.
    I wouldn't have it any other way.

    I usually have it at ten.
    Two hours later, one again.
    That usually keeps me going until three,
    When I need one more,
    Or maybe two or three or four.
    What would I do without my cups of tea?

    Well, what did you think I was on about?

    In a pub I'll not touch beer,
    Or sip a sherry on the pier.
    I wouldn't touch a spirit with a pole.
    Coffee makes me sick,
    And Horlicks gets on my wick.
    So you could say that I am tea total.

    And when I get old and die,
    And meet my maker in the sky.
    I'll say to him ... or her, "Just before we settle down.".
    Can I have a cup of char?
    'Cause I haven't come this far,
    To a place where no tea's served in the town.

    The morale of this tale,
    A tale you all know well,
    Is that, if you ever meet me in the square?
    Offer white, with just one knob ... of sugar,
    Or else you'll have a job,
    Persuading me to join you for a chat. So there!

    Related Link

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.040 17 Dec 2017
    Written in 1992
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the author holding a tea cup whilst squatting by a row of new, white Mercedes-Benz E-Class cars, taken in Jul 2013. It was added, along with the tags, in Version m5.040 17 Dec 2017

    Two Cases

    A dark thriller. If you read it at night

    The fictional story reproduced below is just the start of a story about two cases. You may note that it is a bit short. Positively stunted. Incomplete. In time this story will be developed and you will see how the protagonist deals with the situation. But I have a load of stuff do do and this may take some time. Unless of course you ask nicely for me to write some more of it. It's literally up to you.

    Photograph of a green oval vanity case
    Not the sort of case I imagined. Nor indeed the quantity thereof

    A man, drowning his sorrows in a café overhears two criminals discussing the delivery of two cases. One contains 'the money', the other a bomb. He has an opportunity to steal the cases but hesitates, considering it too much risk.

    Later he sees an on street chase between the police and the two criminals. During which he sees the cases dumped during a shoot out in an alley. When the area is clear and the criminals are taken safely into custody he checks around to see if anyone is about. Nobody around, but there is a street camera. It is damaged so he takes the cases and leaves.

    The man is at a loss as to which case is the bomb. He does not tell anyone about his discovery and his anxiety spills into his love life.

    Later the police return, see the camera and comment that it was damaged in the shoot out. They get a video image of the man with the two cases.

    The criminals, on release, return to the café and in a chance comment the owner describes the man seen eyeing up the cases.

    The chase is on...

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.007 17 Oct 2017
    Written before Oct 2003
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image was added in Version m5.007 17 Oct 2017

    Word Minutes Template

    Take a minute to read this

    Image of a Windows XP screen with multiple windows open
    I've been looking for over 120 seconds now. There must some minutes in here somewhere

    The thing with big software applications is that they are so well developed that they are often hard to fault.

    Thousands of pounds and man-hours go into producing a top class product worthy of the fortune you have to spend on it.

    Or rather thousands of dollars, because let's face it. The yanks have got it all tied up.

    So when I came across a need for an elementary layout in a powerful popular application I was surprised by its omission.

    Microsoft Word '97 doesn't have a standard template for minutes.

    How did this occur? Surely when they were beta testing the product they would have held meetings.

    And minuted them.

    Have I discovered a secret here? Do they use Lotus Ami-Pro in Seattle? We should be told.

    By the way, I have created a template myself. If you need a copy, send me a request.

    And if Bill Gates is reading this. Get in touch. You'll find my hourly rate very reasonable. Compared to yours.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.030 4 Dec 2017
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
    The image was added in Version m5.030 4 Dec 2017 which depicts a Windows XP desktop with multiple windows open


    The vinceunlimited Loch Ness Screenplay

    Monster Storytelling - A Screenplay Treatment

    Please note that this is an incomplete fiction about the discovery of the Loch Ness monster. It was written circa. 1995 after seeing what effects could be achieved with the film Jurassic Park in 1993. However, continuation of the story was sadly abandoned when the big screen movie, starring Ted Danson, called Loch Ness appeared in 1996. At the time of writing the author has never seen the aforementioned film so any coincidences are purely that. Coincidental.

    Loch Ness

    Photograph of a Jaguar XJ8 parked on the shores of Loch Ness
    A monster seen at at Loch Ness recently. Unusually it's in focus

    The story is about a man, who after a bad argument with a long standing lover, treks off to get some peace and quiet. He travels to Scotland and ends up near Loch Ness. Whilst looking across the Loch he notices something move. It turns out to be nothing but driftwood, until he turns away...

    He books into a local hotel, recounts his story and is amused by the stories of Nessie and of the local's stories in the bar. The stories grow more absurd as the evening wears on and the drink flows. He begins to notice an attractive American woman staying for a few weeks in the same hotel, as a great niece to the landlord, but the drink and his memories of his recent lover cause him to be more embarrassing than attractive.

    To seek solitude he spends some time near the Loch and again spots something. This time he is certain and decides to investigate further.

    He tells the woman but she is less than impressed, dismissing his sightings as drunkenness. Only an old man seems to agree with his thoughts. The men agree to search for the monster. Next morning they hire a set of diving gear from a local watersports centre and despite never having dived before set off, on a hire boat, to search the depths. After several hours, suffering from cold and with faulty dive equipment they decide to abandon the search. A storm blows up and they set back only to have their boat blown to a remote part of the Loch near an unusual landmark and capsize.

    In the dark and severe weather the two struggle to grab driftwood to survive. A darkened shape comes from the depths and the man tries to take a photograph or two but the old man is suffering and attempts to rescue him become a priority. The attempts are fruitless and the old man is lost. The man tries in vain to keep himself afloat but starts to sink. He is just losing consciousness when he is accelerated at high speed through the water.

    The next morning the woman is strolling across the beach and finds the man washed up on the shore. As he recovers in her bed he recounts the story. Whilst his story is too far fetched for her to believe she begins to fall for his charm and as they console themselves about the fate of the old man they embrace and begin to fall for each other. They are rudely interrupted by the landlord who on hearing the story decides the police should be called.

    In the Police Station the man is given a hard time about the loss of the old man and responsibilities given the huge depths of the Loch and the dangers of weather. Whilst he is at the inquest, giving evidence about the circumstances, the woman receives the post, which contain the man's photographs. She rushes them to the inquest and presents the evidence. A local reporter, an evil man, awakened by the thought of fame, causes a disturbance and steals the photos. The next day the papers and news are full of the story and the reporter is given top publicity.

    Within days the area around the Loch is totally transformed. Multi-million pound projects are commenced with the thought of huge publicity rewards. Major sponsors advertising boards are put up everywhere and the character of the place is wrecked. The man and woman are horrified by the invasion of the world's publicity and are hounded by reporters whatever they do, particularly the evil reporter. They hear that the monster will be hunted at any cost and see explosives being off loaded and used to cause sonic shock waves. A submarine is airlifted into the area and flotillas of the locals boats are used to trawl the Loch.

    The man and woman decide that they need to find the monster before anyone else. The problem is that they realise that they wouldn't stand a chance given the searching power of the rest of the teams. They need a head start and the man recalls the landmark he noticed just before capsizing. They set off to find the landmark. The landmark is at a far end of the Loch and when they discover it they find some wreckage of the boat.

    They look into the water and see the monster, which appears to look back at them. By moonlight the sight is wonderful but is interrupted by a helicopter with big searchlights, carrying the evil reporter, plus many approaching boats. The man and woman disguise the find by quickly removing their clothes and going for a swim to distract the hunters. The hunters leave the two in peace and head away to search another part. Inevitably, the man and woman make love on the shore, the monster diving around in the background.

    Next morning, over breakfast, the two plan to disrupt the search by discrediting his original story. They realise that this could jeopardise the original claim of an accident but they figure that the risk is worthwhile. They decide that the first thing to do is move the boat debris to another place. They drive to the place where the accident happened, collect some debris and take it to another part of the Loch. They return to collect more but whilst doing this they are spotted by the evil reporter who follows them to the site of the accident.

    As he steps from his car he gets a gun out of the glove compartment. He follows them to the shore where he confronts them. An argument ensues about the morals of discovery and financial gain against destruction of the local environment. A struggle occurs and the woman is shot in the head. The man is about to be shot by the reporter when he dives in the water. As he struggles to hold his breath underwater and swim to a safe place the bullets fly through the water around him.

    He suddenly notices the monster nearby which when startled by a bullet dives off toward the edge of the Loch and disappears. He follows, parting the underwater plants and discovers a large hidden underwater shaft. He realises it is his only hope and swims down it. Meanwhile the reporter, realising what has happened, cleans off his gun and throws it down near to the woman and drives off.

    You will have to commission this story to see how it ends.....

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.303 14 May 2020
    Written circa. 1995
    First published: Version 1.01 Jan 2004
    Incorporated into the Screenplays page Version m5.303 14 May 2020
    The image depicts a monster at Loch Ness, the monster being the author’s large Jaguar XJ8 photographed at Loch Ness in 2000. It was added in Version m5.049 2 Jan 2018



    From an idea by my father, written in 1994

    A concrete stairway lit in red

    In a decade or two,
    Everyone knew,
    That there would be no more fossil fuel.

    In a decade or three,
    Everyone agreed,
    There'd be no more wood left from the trees.

    In a decade or four,
    Everyone saw,
    Total destruction from nuclear war.

    But no-one 'cept me,
    Could ever forsee,
    The day we ran out of concrete.

    The day we run out of concrete,
    Is a day that we should grieve.
    No more building up our lifestyle.
    No more repairing what we see.
    Jobs are lost.
    No road repairs.
    No shelter for our kids.
    The day we run out of concrete,
    The day we run out of concrete,
    No fabric for society.

    Ten years go by,
    How right was I.
    Concrete's in such short supply.

    A decade's passed,
    Science at last,
    Is hunting for a replacement fast.

    The day we run out of concrete,
    Is a day that we should grieve.
    No more building up our lifestyle.
    No more repairing what we see.
    Jobs are lost.
    No road repairs.
    No shelter for our kids.
    The day we run out of concrete,
    The day we run out of concrete,
    No fabric for society.

    Another ten on,
    Everyone's gone.
    No-one listened to the words of my song.

    A decade goes.
    Nobody knows.
    Nobody here to listen to me.
    Nobody here to listen to me.
    Nobody here to listen to me.
    I feel so alone...

    I recall,
    The day we ran out of concrete,
    Was a day that we all grieved.
    We couldn't build upon our lifestyle,
    Or repair society.
    Jobs were lost.
    No road repairs.
    No shelter for our kids.
    The day we ran out of concrete,
    The day we ran out of concrete,
    A day I hope I never see.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.010 20 Oct 2017
    Lyrics written in 1994
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts a concrete staircase, part of the South Bank in London and was added, along with the link in Version m5.010 20 Oct 2017 [now no longer included]


    The future of mankind - Pre-cursor to a film, written in 1994 [note: five years before The Matrix was released]

    A photograph of Vince half covered by a photograph of a circuit board

    First there was the wheel. And then came the car.
    Now we live together in a little glass jar.
    All connected in the Net. No individual memory.
    Virtual reality is now actuality.

    No one has to die. There's ROM for every soul.
    Ten million to a chip and space for all to grow.
    Walls can't be pulled down. A cryogenic dream.
    Now we have anything we need. Everlastingly.

    But all I want to do is die a man.
    With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
    All I want to do is lie alone,
    Remembering a thousand years gone past.
    Now that we can't ever break our walls,
    We can never, ever end it all.
    When you have anything you ever sought.
    You seek nothing at all.
    Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
    Let me through the Net.
    You gave us everything but death in the end.

    With DNA replication as a daily norm.
    Not one body since was ever truly born.
    Sex with anyone, they really needn't know.
    Flying, racing, killing in the sun, sea, sand or snow.

    But all I want to do is die a man.
    With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
    All I want to do is lie alone,
    Remembering a thousand years gone past.
    Now that we can't ever break our walls,
    We can never, ever end it all.
    When you have anything you ever sought.
    You seek nothing at all.
    Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
    Let me through the Net.
    You gave us everything but death in the end.

    We feel the world through all our memories,
    And we can walk upon its surface if we please.
    By using five sense suits that robots made,
    We can still feel sunlight on us in a leafy glade.

    But all I want to do is die a man.
    With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
    All I want to do is lie alone,
    Remembering a thousand years gone past.
    Now that we can't ever break our walls,
    We can never, ever end it all.
    When you have anything you ever sought.
    You seek nothing at all.
    Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
    Let me through the Net.
    You gave us everything but death in the end.

    But all I want to do is die a man.
    With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
    All I want to do is lie alone,
    Remembering a thousand years gone past.
    Now that we can't ever break our walls,
    We can never, ever end it all.
    When you have anything you ever sought.
    You seek nothing at all.
    Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
    Let me through the Net.
    You gave us everything but death in the end.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.031 5 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1994
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the author partly obscured by a circuit board and was created in October 2014. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.031 dated 5 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]


    Dedicated to Aryton Senna, written in 1994

    Two detailed colourful model Formula 1 racing cars.  Jaguar Racing and BMW

    It's a week since first they came to this place the circus claims.
    Fired up passion growing strong. Now the climax won't be long.
    Tens of thousands take their place to cheer on their chosen ace.
    With ad. men selling top rate places to advertise their companies graces.

    Pole man sits on the front row. Cameras focus on the show.
    Eight hundred horses singing loud to a tune to please the crowd.
    Noise increases on the grid as final checks reach fever pitch.
    Greens release two dozen steeds and the rubber feet do bleed.

    A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
    Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

    The first corner is a squeeze. Only four escape the siege.
    With the start again its all clear but the last ones pay so dear.
    Fifteen straights without a change, then an oil seal makes a claim.
    Gives a chance to two more aces, for three circuits changing places.

    A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
    Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

    More back markers, slipstreamed straights. Tyres and fuel in ten point eight.
    Fastest lap is a new crown as the times come tumbling down.
    Carbon fibre body getting light. Black and white comes into sight.
    The gathered crowds roar out his name and another takes his fame.

    A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
    Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

    A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
    Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.035 11 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1994
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the author's two Formula 1 model racing cars. A 2002 season Jaguar Racing Team R3 and a BMW Williams FW24 photographed by the author in 2005. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.035 dated 11 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]

    Word We Don't Need

    The Ultimate Dream, an anti-war song lyric, written in 1994 [in 20 minutes]

    A photograph showing a convoy of tanks heading away on a motorway with a police outrider escort

    We are heading for a new age.
    A time long overdue.
    A dream for all our fathers.
    And now it's coming true.

    Our forebears gave us hope.
    We've taken their ideas.
    We'll see it lasts forever.
    And live in peace for years.

    With no more hunger left to feed.
    With no more victims left to bleed.
    With no more use for wanton greed.
    War is a word that we don't need.

    Together in our small world.
    We've learnt to get on well.
    It's heaven on this planet.
    We've eliminated hell.

    With no more hunger left to feed.
    With no more victims left to bleed.
    With no more use for wanton greed.
    War is a word that we don't need.

    We can't forget the old days.
    That's the secret of success.
    To lose what we have built up.
    Would leave us in a mess.

    With no more hunger left to feed.
    With no more victims left to bleed.
    With no more use for wanton greed.
    War is a word that we don't need.

    With no more hunger left to feed.
    With no more victims left to bleed.
    With no more use for wanton greed.
    War is a word that we don't need.

    War is a word that we don't need.
    [to fade]

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.043 20 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1994
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts a convoy of tanks heading away up the M27 taken by the author's wife around 1979. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.043 dated 20 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]


    Crowd The Disco Floor

    Disco dance number, written in 1992

    Vince with perm and open shirt dancing with three women

    I know the floor is empty and your food's not quite gone down,
    I know that you all think that you dance just like a clown.
    And the choice of records so far has made you stop and think,
    That the bar is still wide open and you need another drink.
    I know that you are saying that if someone else is first,
    Then you will get stuck in and really do your worst.
    But this night won't last forever.
    So let's get started. All together.
    Grab a friend. Get off your seat.
    Don't get left behind the beat.
    On the count of three all go!
    One. Two. Go!

    Be the first to the floor and get a prize.
    A chance to be seen by all those eyes.
    That man there is getting stuck in.
    Or has he just drunk too much gin?

    Get on your feet and show no fear.
    Do all those things you said coming here.
    'Cause if you don't dance it won't be long.
    Before we play that flamin' Birdie song!

    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    Four people dancing round and round,
    The handbags placed upon the ground.
    If you look close the bags are three.
    I wish that other man was me.

    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    Form a circle right 'round the room.
    Get arm in arm or two by two.
    The middle one now has to show.
    What they can do, or else they go.


    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    Now this record's over. Stay up on the floor.
    Hang around together and we'll play you some more.
    An' if you don't like what you hear, you can always say,
    Let's play this song again, again...
    ...Why don't you play it again, forever and a day?

    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    I cannot stand those parties where no one stands a chance.
    'Cause people stand around the place and no one starts to dance.
    Now that we have started, we want it more and more.
    So come on up and join us on this crowded disco floor.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.012 25 Oct 2017
    Lyrics written in 1992
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts Vince dancing at a family party with three women in 1982 and was added, along with the link in Version m5.012 25 Oct 2017 [now no longer included]


    Written in 1992

    The multi-headed traffic light tree in Canary Wharf

    I see roadworks, traffic jams.
    Polluting gases in our land.
    There's litter on the street.
    Shoe's cost more than aching feet.

    Filled the car with carbon juice.
    Credit limits blown a fuse.
    Talk of having light pollution.
    Eight lane roads are no solution.

    Nothing in this world of mine.
    Emptiness and less.
    Worried 'bout my state of mind.
    Always in a mess.
    Never seem to get it right.
    Failing every day.
    Not a perfect world I'm told.
    At least that's what they say.

    Vandals thrash in their steel cages.
    Crush themselves to death.
    Police get blamed for all the killing.
    When they clear up the mess.

    Nothing in this world of mine.
    Emptiness and less.
    Worried 'bout my state of mind.
    Always in a mess.
    Never seem to get it right.
    Failing every day.
    Not a perfect world I'm told.
    At least that's what they say.

    Nothing in this world of mine.
    Emptiness and less.
    Worried 'bout my state of mind.
    Always in a mess.
    Never seem to get it right.
    Failing every day.
    Not a perfect world I'm told.
    At least that's what they say.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.022 22 Oct 2017
    Lyrics written in 1994
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the multi-headed traffic light tree in Canary Wharf and was added, along with the links in Version m5.022 22 Oct 2017 [now no longer included]. It was taken by the author around Jul 2000


    Written for a theatre group and performed live in 1992

    A photograph of two white ponies in a New Forest landscape

    Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a horse?
    Standing in a field things could be worse.
    With all your mates around you running fast,
    And nowt to do all day but eat the grass.
    I doubt if you would ever think you're lonely.
    I wonder what it's like to be a pony.

    Running on four legs across the dew.
    Going to the blacksmith for your shoes.
    Jumping over fences six feet tall.
    Giving rides to children one and all.
    If someone gave a wish, I couldn't lose.
    A New Forest pony's what I'd choose.

    Of course, there are some bad things that's not right.
    Being branded on the bum I would not like.
    Having only grass and hay to nibble on,
    Oh, I would miss orange jelly and blancmange.
    But all in all there really is no doubt,
    A pony's what I'm really all about.

    But unfortunately dreams don't all come true,
    So here I am stood talking here to you.
    I wish I were a pony. It's not fair.
    But remember - Grass is always greener over there.
    I shouldn't make a fuss or be so sad.
    'Cause I'm a donkey and that isn't quite so bad.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.033 7 Dec 2017
    Written and performed in 1992
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts two white ponies in a New Forest setting, taken by the author in May 2013. It was added, along with the tags, in Version m5.033 7 Dec 2017


    Set It Free

    Forbidden Love, written in 1991

    A photograph showing a spurting fountain and a duck in a park

    Running my eyes up and down your body where my hands would rather be.
    Feeling you close within my soul. Searching for that ecstasy.
    Can't bide my time 'til the moments right.
    Wanting to do, settling for sight.
    Just take a chance on us and arouse this dynamite.

    Stealing a glance or touching your hair. Remembering the look in your eyes.
    Saying the things the way you do. Seeing through your little disguise.
    You want me, I know that's true.
    We are both planning what to do.
    If only we could say the things that we both knew.

    I want you and you know it.
    Let me take you to a place we both can be.
    Now's the time to show it.
    Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
    You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
    Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
    Set it free. Set it free.

    Make special dreams come true tonight for all those tears you cried.
    My hands are cold but your body's warm and time is on our side.
    I'm aching in the places that you haven't got.
    An' you are feeling deadly hot.
    Let's entwine our loving and give it our best shot.

    I want you and you know it.
    Let me take you to a place we both can be.
    Now's the time to show it.
    Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
    You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
    Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
    Set it free. Set it free.

    The moment's good and we are sharing time, with blood gushing through my veins.
    I'm reaching out to be within. You're holding on my reins.
    You're searching out for a new height.
    Breath so heavy but head is light.
    Bodies a' shaking but our soles are in full flight.

    Musical crescendo

    We're feeling good with me in you. A moment true and pure.
    With peacefulness embracing us. We're wanting for no more.
    We've taken chances on or love attack.
    Seen the light with no going back.
    Broken down the barriers...
    ...Now we're on the right track.

    I want you and you know it.
    Let me take you to a place we both can be.
    Now's the time to show it.
    Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
    You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
    Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
    Set it free. Set it free.

    I want you and you know it.
    Let me take you to a place we both can be.
    Now's the time to show it.
    Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
    You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
    Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
    Set it free. Set it free.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.037 13 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1991
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts a park scene gushing with symbolism and a good duck photographed by the author in Nov 2016. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.037 dated 13 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]


    A duet for a lost love, written in 1991

    A photograph of an old cathedral glass window design comprising multiole coloured rectangles

    (Man) Have you ever been so lonely that you feel you couldn't care?
    That your life is full of nothing and you're going to nowhere?
    (Woman) Have you ever been so lonely that your cares no longer feel?
    That your loving days are over and your heart is now of steel?
    (Man) Then something that is said.
    (Woman) Or something that you see.
    (Man) A prompt. A nudge. A noise perhaps...
    (Woman) ...brings back a memory.
    (Man) Have you seen the situation when you see someone from afar?
    (Woman) Is it them or just a mirage?
    (Both) Are you who I think you are?

    (Woman) I won't accept these facts at all. I won't believe my eyes.
    I cannot start on mending all those painful days and lies.
    (Man) I won't be seen to go back on all my promises to me.
    The days and nights of total pain as I tried to cut you free.
    (Woman) I won't believe in miracles.
    (Man) I've suffered so to learn.
    (Woman) I can't believe that in one glimpse...
    (Man) ...I've seen the past return.
    (Woman) But when I take a closer look, it's like finding a new star.
    (Man) I'm sure that I am certain.
    (Both) Are you who I think you are?

    (Both) Are you from my past or just made of glass?
    Are you really there?
    Take a look at me. Do you long to be,
    Here without a care?
    Just give me the eye. Make a tear run dry.
    Be the one I knew
    Could we re-light the flame? Do you feel the same?
    Please tell me are you who?
    I think you are.

    (Man) I thought I'd put the fire out. I thought that you were gone.
    I said I'd never would go back or listen to our song
    (Woman) But deep inside I knew that you were just on ice.
    Hidden in a secret file but thinking it was nice
    (Man) All my burdens are lifting.
    (Woman) My chains are breaking free.
    (Man) Seeing you has brought about...
    (Woman) ...a long lost melody.
    (Man) I heard you were around here. I thought I saw your car.
    (Woman) Please tell me with all honesty.
    (Both) Are you who I think you are?

    (Both) Are you from my past or just made of glass?
    Are you really there?
    Take a look at me. Do you long to be,
    Here without a care?
    Just give me the eye. Make a tear run dry.
    Be the one I knew
    Could we re-light the flame? Do you feel the same?
    Please tell me are you who?
    I think you are.


    (Woman) Hang on, I need a minute. I'm back from hell today.
    I can't think straight. I need some time for things that I should say.
    (Man) Don't say a thing. Just do it. Just make this dream come true.
    I'm sure that what I'm feeling is going on in you.
    (Woman) Do you feel the same as I do?
    (Man) Don't you want to grab this chance?
    (Woman) Should we take things as they happen...
    (Man) ...Or try to find our old romance.
    (Woman) We can't know that it will happen. The fact that we've come far.
    (Man) Do you sense that what you're saying is.
    (Both) Are you who I think you are?

    (Both) Are you from my past or just made of glass?
    Are you really there?
    Take a look at me. Do you long to be,
    Here without a care?
    Just give me the eye. Make a tear run dry.
    Be the one I knew
    Could we re-light the flame? Do you feel the same?
    Please tell me are you who?
    I think you are.

    (Both) Are you from my past or just made of glass?
    Are you really there?
    Take a look at me. Do you long to be,
    Here without a care?
    Just give me the eye. Make a tear run dry.
    Be the one I knew
    Could we re-light the flame? Do you feel the same?
    Please tell me are you who?
    I think you are.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.041 18 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1991
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    Text first presented in colour to mark the singer contributions in version 2.00 in May 2005
    The image depicts a cathedral window in Buckfastleigh Abbey. Literally from the past and made of glass. Photographed by the author in 2010. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.041 dated 18 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]


    Best of All Angst

    These song lyrics were composed by the author in 1990 and represented a feeling of anxiety I often felt whilst living as a teenager in the 1970s.

    In those days a common expression was that your childhood and teenage years were the best of your life but if there were any self doubts this sentiment could easily have a negative effect. As written below if this is the best, forget the rest.

    Too many young people took a radical approach some even choosing suicide or maybe withdrawal from society or they decided to self harm in the downtime when their peers were not administering this themselves.

    I knew of no outlets to discuss these issues, there were no help groups, no targeted TV programming nor any internet forums because foolishly no one thought of starting up an internet so a young person often felt very alone and vunerable.

    The messages received were unhelpful. Boys were told to stand up to their issues and fight back 'like a man' even if they didn't have the ability or attitude to do this. Girls who felt unliked or drab would be told to 'make themselves attractive' to alter their happiness, ergo all a girl needed was a short skirt and pretty face to succeed in the world. As if having a pretty face was merely a life choice.

    In composing this song I attempted to recreate and sympathise with these awkward growing years.

    The unedited original lyrics are reproduced below and appear somewhat short of some musical accompaniment. On the simple basis is that it isn't there. Perhaps you can assist? You don't have to be a teenager to participate.

    Version 5.005 14 Oct 2017


    Teenage suicide anthem, written in 1990

    Vince as a teenager laying out in a back garden by a waste bin

    They say that at my age that fantasies are real,
    There's no evil in the hating, no feeling in the kill.
    They say there is no time that's better in my life.
    No malice in the thinking nor sharpness in the knife.

    They say that those around me are playing just for fun.
    That there's no real tomorrow, no bullets in the gun.
    They say I've got it good and life is just a scream,
    And all I have to do is just play around and dream.

    But I don't see things this way ...

    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    If this is it all, don't want no more.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just don't see any point.
    If this is the most life has to give,
    If this is the way you have to live.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just can't take any more.
    The questions that I pose them are always passed straight by.
    I ask them if their childhood was also fed by lies.
    They say they had it good and happiness was there.
    And tell me I'm to live it out without a single care.

    But I can't seem to manage ...

    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    If this is it all, don't want no more.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just don't see any point.
    If this is the most life has to give,
    If this is the way you have to live.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just can't take any more.
    So I'm left with just one choice. To chance it will improve.
    To risk that they are wrong. That I will make it through.
    The alternative is radical and frankly I'm not keen.
    It must be worse than living in this place with what I've seen.

    But I am still not convinced ...

    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    If this is it all, don't want no more.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just don't see any point.
    If this is the most life has to give,
    If this is the way you have to live.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just can't take any more.

    If this is the most life wants to show.
    If this is the case I want to know.
    If this is the time to top it all.
    I'm heading for a fall.
    If this is the icing on the cake.
    If this is all there is to take.
    If this is the best, forget the rest.
    I just won't take any more.

    If this is the best ... forget the rest.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.283 3 Jan 2020
    Lyrics written in 1990
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the author showing angst in 1977 and was added in Version m5.005 14 Oct 2017
    Preamble incorporated into main article Version m5.283 3 Jan 2020


    Plea For A Bike

    When I was a child and through to a teenager I, like most of my peers, had a desire to own a bicycle. It was like a right of passage. Part of life development. It seemed natural and ordinary. It represented growth, freedom and independence. It was after all the status symbol of a generation. A chance to explore wider boundaries and meet new friends.

    Bicycles were certainly an expensive thing. In my world at the time it had serious financial implications for parents. As one of three children getting expensive gifts was an extremely rare thing. In those days toys were reserved for special occasions like Birthdays or Christmases and the cost of bikes were probably more than treble that were spent on those days combined.

    Plus there was an element of danger. Children, bikes and traffic didn't mix well with the former usually coming off worst.

    It was for the above reason my father steadfastly refused to buy his children a bike. And of the three of us I was the most upset by this. Very upset. Extraordinarily upset. Boundary tantrum upset.

    I reasoned that bicycle ownership would help me develop. I was a timid child, small compared to most school colleagues, a pacifist in an angry world, scared with insecurities about being considered part of it. I struggled to have close friends at school and was further alienated by being unable to be part of the cycling gangs developing. With no bike I appeared to be a loner. A loser.

    It didn't help that my circumstances took me away to a remote school at twelve years old and getting there was a pain. Bus rides, long walks and being miles from friends when socialising was unbearable. It is even probably the reason I never became a rock star.

    I argued long and passionately about these points with my dad but he was unrepentant. I pointed out that I, more than other children, would treat riding with respect and care to avoid becoming the jam in a car sandwich. I reasoned that by restricting this activity he was cruel, stunting my development and curtailing any after school activities. I even offered to have nothing else if only I could have a bike. But to no effect. There was no way he'll change his mind.

    The duet character of the song, coupled with the chorus elements serve to suggest a West End musical style because that is exactly what it was intended to be. This passionate episode in my life was written to be part of a plan for a musical of my life that I was considering and working on in the 1980s. These lyrics were penned in 1989. The musical has yet to be completed.

    The unedited original lyrics are reproduced below and despite their apparent complexity do not yet have any musical accompaniment. I will eventually get around to doing this but will first need to learn how to write music. This was a serious flaw in my plan to write that musical. So, can you help?

    If the tune is great and it becomes a success I may buy you a bike. Providing you don't bloody well go on about it all the time.

    Version 5.006 16 Oct 2017


    A spurned plea, written in 1989

    Vince sat on a Dawes racing bike on a driveway

    Daddy will you buy me a bike?
    Daddy will you buy me a bike?
    I'm asking just right.
    Will you see the light?
    Daddy will you buy me a bike?

    Daddy. Go on, buy me a bike
    Daddy. Go on, buy me a bike
    I'll borrow a bike.
    To make you see right.
    Daddy. Go on, buy me a bike.
    There is no way he'll change his mind.
    The reason's simple. He thinks he's kind.
    And yes we know that don't suit you.
    Appreciate his point of view.
    You'll make him angry if you don't care.
    And force the issue. Pressure to bear.
    His choice is made. And so is yours.
    But you must give up. Abandon cause.
    Son, I will not buy you a bike?
    Son, I will not buy you a bike?
    Can shout if you like.
    Loudspeaker and mike.
    No, I will not buy you a bike?
    There is no way he'll change his mind.
    The reason's simple. He thinks he's kind.
    And yes we know that don't suit you.
    Appreciate his point of view.
    You'll make him angry if you don't care.
    And force the issue. Pressure to bear.
    His choice is made. And so is yours.
    But you must give up. Abandon cause.
    Daddy please, I just want a bike?
    Daddy please, I just want a bike?
    I'm going on strike.
    I'll fight for my rights.
    Daddy please, it's only a bike?
    Daddy will not buy you a bike?
    Daddy will not buy you a bike?
    Can cry all you like.
    You won't budge his might.
    Daddy will not buy you a bike?
    Please Daddy.
    Please, please Daddy.
    I've never asked for anything else in my life.
    Please Daddy.
    Please, please Daddy.
    I'll have this and nothing else if you like.
    Sorry, but I won't buy a bike.
    Sorry, but you won't have a bike.
    You could fly to great heights.
    Push and die in the fight.
    But, no way will I buy you a bike.
    (Chorus and verses sung simultaneously)
    (Son) I won't give up. (Chorus) There is no way he'll change his mind.
    (Father) I think you must. (Chorus) The reason's simple. He thinks he's kind.
    (Son) It's important. (Chorus) And yes we know that don't suit you.
    (Son) A bike or bust. (Chorus) Appreciate his point of view.
    (Son) There is no way I'm giving in. (Chorus) You'll make him angry if you don't care.
    (Father) You may as well. You will not win. (Chorus) And force the issue. Pressure to bear.
    (Son) I know with you the temper's short. (Chorus) His choice is made. And so is yours.
    (Son) But I will fight to the highest court. (Chorus) But you must give up. Abandon cause.

    (Father) You can fight but I won't break. (Chorus) There is no way he'll change his mind.
    (Father) The cause is dead, for heaven's sake. (Chorus) The reason's simple. He thinks he's kind.
    (Son) It will not die. I am not through. (Chorus) And yes we know that don't suit you.
    (Father) I'm in charge it's not up to you. (Chorus) Appreciate his point of view.
    (Son) If you could... (Chorus) You'll make him angry....
    (Father) No way I will. (Chorus) ...if you don't care.
    (Son) I just want... (Chorus) And force the issue...
    (Father) I'm certain still. (Chorus) ...Pressure to bear.
    (Son) It's a... (Chorus) His choice...
    (Father) When you live on your own. (Chorus) made. And so is yours.
    (Father) Then... (Chorus) But you...
    (Son) Then I'll run away from home. (Chorus) ...must give up. Abandon cause.


    (Chorus - repeats softly without music)

    There is no way he'll change his mind.
    The reason's simple. He thinks he's kind.
    And yes we know that don't suit you.
    Appreciate his point of view.
    You'll make him angry if you don't care.
    And force the issue. Pressure to bear.
    His choice is made. And so is yours.
    But you must give up. Abandon cause. Abandon cause. Abandon cause.

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.283 3 Jan 2020
    Lyrics written in 1989
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the author on one of the first bikes he owned and was added in Version m5.006 16 Oct 2017
    Preamble incorporated into main article Version m5.283 3 Jan 2020


    A Dream Come True

    A photograph of Vince squatting next to a Vincent Rapide motorcycle

    The heat from the ground rose defiantly, shimmering above the winding road, the distortions playing havoc with the clear cut edge of the tarmac strip.

    A feint roar could be heard from the distant horizon. The noise grew louder and louder, now heard well above the relentless chanting of the birds and insects. A glint of light was caught in the distance and as the rumble drew closer it could be observed that a motorcyclist, resplendent in his white leather jacket, was riding his mount rapidly towards the ancient monument half a mile away.

    As the rider rode faster into the foreground it could be observed that this was no ordinary day tripper. The open megaphone type exhausts echoed a note reminiscent of track racers, the rapid acceleration shattered only by the tortuously hard braking for his next corner belayed an experienced street racer. Each gear change was just a flick from his right boot just a fraction of momentum lost. At every corner the hot black rubber of the tyres scrabbled for grip, the footrests causing sparks to be flown from the tarmac. Then again the rider pulled upright rapidly towards the next bend in an ecstasy of speed and tormented delight.

    This frantic moment of riding soon came to a close. The rider having pulled out of a sweeping right hander screwed open the throttle, laid on the tank and watched the long straight unfurl in front of him. The speedometer needle indicated seventy, eighty, ...ninety passed as his right foot forced the next gear into operation. The black chromed exhausts bleated out in beautiful harmony as one-hundred and ten showed. Ton-twenty and the motor screamed for more, the airstream battling with the rider for control of the machine.

    The needle peaked at one-hundred and twenty-five as the next bend loomed into the distance. Within a split second the rider’s right hand was gripping the brake lever. The motion abruptly spoiled as the black calipers grabbed the shining twin front discs. The front end dropped as the weight fell on the front wheel, the forks diving in pain as ninety, seventy, fifty passed. Then a quick gear change and the bike cruised gently round the next bend.

    Now that the riding was more sedate the details of man and machine could be seen. The rider wearing his black crash helmet, bearing the mark of a Greek God painted delicately in gold, faded blue jeans and studded leather boots was haunched over a mainly black bike.

    The heart of the bike, a mighty V-twin motor, thumped it's power through a huge chain and was converted to power by a massive oversize rear tyre. The front end, braced by two powerful looking forks, boasted a huge tyre, twin discs and rather unsubstantial but neat looking mudguard. Above, the double headlights were gripped in a small nose fairing suggesting night racing but were taped over as it was a sunny afternoon.

    Above the unburstable black motor lay a shiny, glimmering petrol tank. As with the rest of the machine it was gloss black and only the golden letters broke the monotony. The name reminiscent of by-gone days where the engine once ruled the roads, now emblazoned on the most beautiful bike in the world, read...VINCENT.

    A pencil sketch of the Vincent motorbike concept, a sports style motorbike with a Vincent engine and large rear tyre
    The Vincent motorcycle concept I envisaged for this story in the early eighties. The café racer is influenced by the Vincent Black Shadow, the Moto-Martin CBX and Ogri

    Vince was proud of his bike. Very proud. He had read how customers spend hundreds of pounds and thousands of hours churning out visually appealing machines, only to be torn to pieces and then rebuilt in time for the next custom show. Also, like it as not, they don't run, or can't because they have sixty-nine carat gold plate on the rear sprocket or something.

    But Vince's bike ran, and it ran well. He remembered how his old CX500 used to bounce and weave along this, his favourite stretch of road. Even the Suzuki GS750 seemed to wallow above eighty on these curves. But his Vincent, that he was riding now, seemed to eat potholes and white lines as though it were stood still on a bowling green. Most bikes seemed like a roller-coaster on speed compared to this machine.

    And what a machine it was. A speed machine, an accelerating machine, an enthusiast's machine, a reliable machine...? Vince pondered on this for a while as the shining black beauty purred slowly into town, the passers-by admiring the immaculate lines and enviously noticing the smug look of it's pleased rider. The reliability, he thought, was probably the machine’s weakest point, although this would probably be complimenting it's other features. The speed was electrifying, the finish superb, the handling perfect. Even the fuel consumption was favourable compared to the modern multis.

    In reality, Vince thought, nothing should go wrong with his bike. After all he had built the engine and bike from scratch, so he knew it inside out. He remembered how his grandfather had nearly thrown out the old engine. Now neatly restored, painted black and brightly polished it looked like it had been brought just yesterday. It's one-thousand cc's of sheer muscle seemed to ooze character as it fired it's cylinders in turn after every second lamppost on the pavement. Beautiful, Vince thought.

    Up ahead were traffic lights. They were about forty yards away by now and Vince knew that if he opened the throttle the black sensation would roar easily through before the red, even if the amber showed up now, but he was in no hurry. Vince used to scream along at fifty or sixty in town on the Suzuki thinking he was a king, but on this machine he knew he was and therefore had no need to prove it. He casually glanced down at the large Smiths speedo and read twenty-seven miles an hour.

    Sure enough the lights turned red and Vince pulled up resting his front wheel just short of the white line. The traffic system was a slow one so Vince knew he would be able to look around, revelling in the fame this bike seemed to bring him. When he stopped in the street it was almost as if every male over the age of fifty had owned one when they were young. So strange that there was only one other Vincent in the country now.

    He noticed his reflection in the mirrored glass of a shop front, the bike's weight resting gently on his left boot. Vince placed his right foot down and raised his left, seeing his reflection as though he were riding. He crouched low over the tank and smiled as he imagined Brands Hatch wind around in front of him, the chequered flag waving as he passed the finishing line well ahead of the competition.

    Today however, the only competition was the buzzing RD250 that had pulled up right next to him.

    The Yamaha was the usual two-fifty seen around suburban streets. Vince himself had owned something similar when he had started motorcycling just a few years ago. This model, being about two years old now, and obviously thrashed, was naturally tatty. The scratches, twisted footrests and bent handlebar levers seemed to compliment the Vincent perfectly.

    The rider too was the standard eighteen-year old Vince had been three years back, with his painted polycarbonate hat and Foster-Grants. A wry smile told the message Vince was expecting. The rider rocked backwards and forwards revving his engine and grinning widely. This guy wanted a race.

    Vince casually clicked the gear-lever into first and gave a quick blat of the motor to show the competition that he meant business. The revolutions died down to it's normal thumping tick-over as he held in the clutch and watched the ominous red light.

    The Yam owner was now sweating. He loved racing cars and bikes away from the lights and considered himself good at the 'sport'. After all he had only been beaten once and that was because he had missed a gear. A criminal act in the unwritten law of street racing. And today he was challenging no ordinary Escort. This black monster next to him seemed to ooze power, even stood still. His eyes locked onto the lights, only blinking to remove the sweat gathering on his eyelids.

    Suddenly the red light was joined by the amber. The Yamaha owner dropped his clutch holding five-thousand revs. The front wheel pawed the air, nearly sending the rider off the back. Seven-thousand on the clock and the rider plucked his next gear from the box, the front wheel again falling to the ground. Another seven-thousand was showing and again the front tyre was losing traction with the tarmac as the rider flicked a higher ratio into operation in a frantic dash for victory.

    The red and amber had now dissolved and had been replaced by green and Vince knew he could now start. He had not been tempted to jump the lights with his opponent, after all he did have the capacity advantage over the Yamaha. He noticed that the other rider was across the other side of the junction and was only about fifty yards away from the narrowing gap, caused by the parked cars, which they were racing for.

    The huge motor only showed two-and-a-half thousand on the tachometer when he slipped the light clutch away from the left handlebar. He knew that he had over seventy miles an hour in this gear so it was now down to his right hand. Vince preferred to release clutches gently and let the motor do the work rather than lose valuable forward motion trying to control senseless wheelies.

    The tachometer was showing four thousand now and the scorching black rubber of the rear tyre was acting like a clutch as a plume of white smoke emitted from the back. Vince leaned forward onto his forearms to prevent the aerobatics of the front end and watched as the little Yamaha appeared to be coming back towards him.

    It was now only twenty yards to that gap and the Yam had the best line, with the rider obviously happy as he seemed well ahead. Having jumped the lights and gained that extra twenty or thirty yards he was confident that it would take something pretty special to beat him past that red Cortina parked ahead. The juggernaut approaching the other way prevented any alternative route and as his front wheel was way ahead of any competition, which was the only thing that mattered, he guessed that the other rider was braking fiercely.

    The competition, however, was something pretty special and Vince wasn’t going to loose easily. The gap may have been only fifteen yards away and they may have been travelling well above fifty by now but Vince knew that his bike only needed a gap of about nine feet to get through and saw that his front wheel was in line with the Yamaha’s rear and he was accelerating like he had never experienced before.

    With the throttle against the stop and the motor now screaming in delight he was being physically stretched by the power. His arms seemed to be pulling from their sockets and his eyes watered with the pain at the tremendous G-force, pushing him against the moulded seat hump.

    The bikes were level now and the red Cortina seemed all too near. With his acceleration Vince knew that if he were to back off now he would have no time to stop or swerve. It was now or never. His right hand forced the throttle harder against it’s stop causing the rubber to twist painfully, as the bikes edged closer together, the gap drawing nearer. Now even the Vincent’s front end lifted as the two battled for first place.

    Luckily for Vince his front wheel was now ahead, but the Cortina was very close, however, rules are rules and he decided to swerve towards the gap, just missing the car by a few inches. The Yamaha rider sensed this and threw his right fist forward, shutting off the throttle and grabbing the brake lever. The tiny black caliper clutched it’s shining disc and sent a thin black run of rubber down the tarmac.

    Vince had won, but only just.

    Further on down the road the mighty Vincent pulled up at another set of traffic lights. It burbled away on tick-over as it’s last competitor silently drew up next to it.

    Vince looked at the Yamaha's owner and smiled confidently. The rider gave a return nod.

    "Nice Motor."

    "Thanks." Replied Vince.

    "Quick..." he continued "...isn’t it?"

    "Quick enough." Confirmed Vince.

    "What is it?" Asked the Yam owner, as the lights turned to green.

    "A dream come true." Vince replied, dumping the clutch. The mighty motor again responded and he roared off into the distance…

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.175 17 Aug 2018
    The first half written for an article in The Southampton and District Motorcycle Club magazine under the title The Ultimate Ride, published in 1982 with the remaining penned to fit the requirements of Bike magazine, but sadly never published meaning the writer had to get a proper job.
    At the time of writing the Southampton and District Motorcycle Club was based in Woodside Avenue in Eastleigh. It can now be found via
    First published in this website Version 3.0 Mar 2010
    The header photograph shows the author squatting next to an immaculate Vincent Rapide motorcycle. The Rapide was produced between 1936 and 1955 and remains a collectable bike. The more famous, faster Black Shadow model had black enamelled engine casings. The photo was taken by the author's wife in Skegness in April 1996
    The sketch was drawn by the author to demonstrate the bike envisaged in the story. It was influenced by the Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle's V-twin motor sat in a frame similar to the eighties Moto-Martin CBX1000. Also there is just a bit of Ogri in it. Orgi was a cartoon character drawn by Paul Sample for Bike Magazine between 1972 and 2009. Ogri actually rode a Norvin, a Vincent engined Norton café racer. Actually he didn't as he was just an ink drawn character. Ogri continued in motorcycle magazine Back Street Heroes until 2012


    Written in 1982 and dedicated to a very special person in my life, who shall remain nameless.

    A photograph of Lynda lying prone wearing blue jeans and a white and red tee shirt on top of a bed

    You lay there, you're crying. I'm thinking 'bout my dying.
    How I'll live 'til then and never see you gone.
    You think I cannot love you. Though I serve you, always hold you.
    And believe I'll stay around you for so long.

    I never want you to leave me. I'm hoping this so dearly.
    I fear the thought of being so alone.
    And if I wake up and you've gone, you know it won't be so long,
    'Fore I come running for you back upon the 'phone.

    Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
    I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
    And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
    And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
    I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
    I'll always help you fight away your fears.
    Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
    And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

    So hold your head up high and please don't make me cry.
    'Cause I do when you are sad and you are lonely.
    From the day that we first met you know I could have bet,
    That you, my girl, would be my one and only.

    Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
    I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
    And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
    And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
    I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
    I'll always help you fight away your fears.
    Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
    And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

    You made my life worth living, your caring and your giving.
    I'm never lonely now I must confess.
    And if thanks were made in time you can have the rest of mine.
    We'll live together now and forever more Lynda...
    ...I love you

    Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
    I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
    And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
    And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
    I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
    I'll always help you fight away your fears.
    Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
    And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

    Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
    Believe me now 'cause I mean it. I do...

    Author: Vince Poynter
    Version m5.029 1 Dec 2017
    Lyrics written in 1982
    First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
    The image depicts the eponymous subject and was taken in 1982. It was added, along with the links in Version m5.029 1 Dec 2017 [now no longer included]