Is There Life On Mars?

Today’s blog is dedicated to Life on Mars. Definitely one of my favourite songs and also one of the most enjoyable TV shows in recent years. Obviously the storyline was blithering rubbish, but the cars, the music and DCI Gene Hunt made it very watchable (as long as the Champions’ League Footy wasn’t on at the same time). The Mark 3 Ford Cortina GXL that Hunt drives took the biscuit. Please excuse me for coming over all Clarkson-esque but I used to have a Mark 3 GT and here is a photo of it. Glorious.

The GT was better than the GXL, fact. It cost me £200. What a totally fantastic wide-boy’s car? Look at that spoiler, and the four small headlights. The huge bonnet. So styling was clearly based on the car that Starsky and Hutch drove. I owned this monster during my rebel (make that totally broke) phase when all my doctor mates drove GTI’s, XR3i’s and MR2’s in vain attempts to pull nurses on the basis of their flash cars. Naff. You can’t buy style and I had it in the form of this car, n’est pas?
Unfortunately I killed the purple monster as she was affectionaly known by ramming a stone wall on a small Cornish road near Helston. Nothing to do with driving too fast on slippy roads. It was the girlfriend’s fault, but that’s a long story. She's the wife now.

The car's absolute best feature were the four little dials indicating temp, oil pressure etc. low down on the centre console near the gear lever, which were angled to the driver so that no one else could read them. Don’t ask me why, but male passengers always used to crane their necks to try and get a shifty glimpse of the dials. It used to kill me.


Back to the programme. I know a lot has been written about the twit Sam Tyler, but DCI Gene Hunt was the star. Tyler has been nominated for the Crapta’s or whatever they’re called. Why didn't he give that bird one? Travesty. What is your favourite Hunt quote? Here’s mine. When talking about a small-time crook he was trying to nick.. ‘he’s got his fingers in more pies than a leper in a sausage factory.’ Or, ‘detect me a fig-roll’ to the WPC Cartwright.

The music was another major factor in the success of the series. Whoever chose the songs is clearly an aficionado. With so many classic 70’s tunes, it painted a rather rosy picture of the period. There’s no doubt that the music jogged the old memory cells and we all know that nostalgia is a wonderful thing. What heady brew of chemicals swirls around our brains to evoke those incredibly strong emotions when we’re reminded of the past? My daughter caught me listening to Karen Carpenter (don’t let me start on her voice, I LOVE her) Rainy Days and Mondays this morning, just at the point where she sings ‘Talking to myself and feeling old….’ And I have to admit I was coming over all soppy thinking about my teens and my poor old mum. I may even have been a little moist eyed. I tried to pretend I had a fly in my eye but you can’t fool an eleven year old girl. She laughed at me. Strangely, she finds Blink 182’s album (or should that be CD) Take Off Your Pants and Jacket makes her feel sad because it reminds her of an interminable 10 hour car journey through France.

The first single I ever bought I can hear Jacko ask? All The Young Dudes by Mott the Hoople, written of course by Bowie as a ‘gift’ to Ian Hunter in an attempt to kick-start the Mott’s career. The B-side was an absolute cracker, One Of The Boys. Cost 49 new pence.
First LP? Ziggy Stardust by Bowie bought in Discotrax in Kenilworth for £2-17p.I’ve still got it, a little worn with not much treble response, but still very playable.
And Life On Mars by Bowie? Hunky Dory. It just kicks my memory cells so hard. Why is it that we can remember clear details from over 30 years ago, but only when prompted by hearing specific bits of music? I can remember walking over the railway bridge on my way to the swimming pool in Abbey Fields on a hot summer’s day, trying to work out the quirky lyrics in my head. It was probably 1973. And who played the piano bits on the track? Rick Wakeman I believe.

So, that brings me around to today’s bike ride. I virtually always cycle with my IPod shuffle, and load a playlist just before I set off. Today it was ‘70’s’, what else? Bowie, Mott, Carpenters, Zep, Purple, Free, Tull, Supertramp and so on. Perfect to take my mind off the pain. And it hurt.

I had childcare complications today which meant I could only do a short ride, so my planned route was a 20 mile circuit from my house with one nasty climb at either end. A few weeks ago, top Northern semi-Pro rider Jacko told me that I had to be aiming to do an average of 20 mph for a 20 miler, and so I decided to see if I could get near that sort of speed. Interval training always makes me a little nervous because you know it’s going to hurt. So I gave it the berries from the off, fantasising that this was a Tour time-trial with Ullrich and Armstrong starting 3 minutes ahead of me. My bum felt very tender on the saddle, a legacy from the 77 miler two days ago, but otherwise I felt quite good, and conditions were OK, warm and a moderate cross wind. My rear derailleur was making an annoying rattling noise but I didn’t have time to fiddle with it. Towards the end I could see from my computer that I might do it, so I really went nuts for the last half mile up the hill until the lactate started to make me feel sick. Final score… just failed. Averaged 19.8 mph for 20.01 miles. Not bad, but clearly, I should get better as the training progresses. Before I get too content, the 2004 Tour de France was won by Armstrong after 2107 miles at an average speed of 25.2 mph. That’s amazing.