Divine Spark of Music

Currently battling with the workmen over music.

They're outside in the freezing cold and I'm inside where, if anything, it's even colder. 

I won't allow heating on until November. It's my brother's house but still standards must apply. As Eric Morcombe used to say "It's not the principle it's the money".

Anyway, they are playing some shite local radio station, Forth FM, perhaps. The DJ is veering wildly between mid-Atlantic and Edinburgh cooncil-estate twangs and playing music by artists of no fixed ability. Last heard were Westlife and Dani Minogue. Gay music actually.

In here we have proper man's [1] music - Shostakovitch and Rachmaninoff. But they have a big yellow ghetto blaster and drills so I'm having to turn the radio right up. I can see them looking in at me and sharing a laugh. One even pointed at me. 

I think they think I'm gay.

[1] Not suggesting for a minute that gay men are not proper men. I only mean gay as in, like, poofy.