A cut above

The first time we visited our oldest daughter in London she took us to a place that she had visited with her friend, Rachel(advocate of the no. 42 bus route). I don't know how Rachel discovered it but her knowledge of offbeat tourist London puts her up there with Tom at tired of London, tired of Life in my opinion. The place is the Hunterian museum at the Royal College of Surgeons.

It is macabre and inspiring, graphically showing and telling the story of the growth of the science and craft of surgery. There is something respectful and moving about the way the exhibits are  beautifully displayed, despite some of the more grisly and dubious tales that accompany them. I was especially moved by a video presentation of an operation on a brain tumour. Given that 42 years ago my dad's tumour was seen as 'inoperable' I saw hope in the advances made, a way that his illness and death fitted into the development of the life-enhancing skills of surgeons.

And the museum is located in the Royal College of Surgeons, stressing its place as a record of work in progress. On the day we were there some kind of oral exams or interviews were taking place and seeing the hopeful candidates making their way gave a vitality to the place that I wouldn't normally associate with a museum. Go, and be inspired.

More of more of the same

With reference to my post of two weeks ago ('More of the same'), I know I said that the owners systematically dismantle the team by selling the best players, and that humiliation was never far away for Newcastle fans. It gives me no pleasure to be right again. Andy Carroll in a Newcastle shirt just looked so right. He was local, a product of the club, an exciting and edgy presence and now, like Paul Gascoigne, our last prodigy, he's gone. The club have taken the money, they've got nothing to replace him with, and he's a young man out in the world with a huge price tag and massive expectations on his shoulders.

Let's hope that's where the similarity ends.