My elderly wardrobe

I have an elderly wardrobe. While that’s not literally true, I definitely do have some clothes that I literally have had for decades. There are reasons for that, mostly about me, but several things over the past couple months have made me especially aware of it.

A few weeks ago, a relative complimented me on a shirt I was wearing that day, one that I seldom wear. I mentioned in passing that I bought it more than 20 years ago, and he was surprised (shocked?) at that, because he gets rid of clothes when they wear out. I do, too, of course, but I have enough stuff to wear that I often go months—or even longer—without wearing a particular item (seasonal changes have a lot to do with that). At the same time, I’ve always been a bit, er, um, obsessive about how I care for them.

I’ve always washed most clothes in cold water, which is gentler on fabrics and their dyes, and I’ve always hung up most shorts to dry. I iron shirts that need it, something I’ve been a little bit better about doing after the 2023 loss of what was pretty much my favourite shirt at the time. So, having more than enough stuff to choose from, and treating the garments carefully, is part of why I've had some items for decades. There’s a separate reason why this is necessary for me: I hate clothes shopping.

Back in late 2023, I talked about why I hate clothes shopping. That post, together with a sequel from January 2024, explain why I have so much and try to take good care of it. I should add, though, that for the past couple years I buy some new shirts in the post-Christmas sales, and that, in turn, allows me to get rid of the truly worn-out shirts, because of course shirts eventually wear out.

I was thinking about all this not long after talking with my relative, and it's when I first thought (jokingly) that much of my wardrobe is “elderly”. I think (because, of course I do…) that at least some of what I wear is what younger folks might think was appropriate for an “elderly” (from their perspective) man. That may give me pause, but I also know I can’t control what other people think. Actually, I know that most days, in most ways, but on some days (like on the shopping trips I blogged about), being thought of as an “elderly” man looking for “appropriate” (meaning, “not too young”) clothes is at the very centre of my awareness. I think this is likely to settle down over time, probably by the time I really am “elderly” and—hopefully—have reached the “I don’t give a shit” phase of life. Assuming I’m fortunate to reach those years, of course.

There was one other thing that sparked all this pondering: My decluttering efforts over the past couple weeks.

Last Sunday, I published a post that was mainly about purging things, especially magazines in the living area of my house. However, I also had one paragraph in which I talked about sorting through some of my older clothes that had been stored in the guest room wardrobe. What I didn’t say is that one of those items is close to being something anyone might be tempted to call “elderly”: A sweater vest.

My childhood friend Jason’s mother knitted the sweater vest for by me, probably when I was a sophomore or junior in high school. At the time, I had several sweater vests I routinely wore, and since she was an avid knitter, and made lots of sweaters for her family, she decided to make me a sweater vest. I remember when she was making it, and how she’d frequently hold the back up against me to make sure it would be long enough (since I’m a tall boy). In the end she made a lovely off-white cable-knit sweater vest, and I loved it—and a year or so later I stopped wearing sweater vests at all.

Even so, I’ve kept that sweater vest ever since, through dozens of moves (including to and within New Zealand), because it mattered to me because she mattered to me. The sweater still fits, however, my currently rotund mid-section protrudes too much for me to feel anything other than deeply self-conscious if I wore it in public, though I did wear it recently when I had one of the frequent video chats Jason and I have (while I was sitting down… and at home…). The thing is, that sweater is around 50 years old, and that realisation shocked me. I’ll keep that sweater, of course.

In thinking about it further, though, I realised I also have a (very) few things I brought with me from the USA, like some t-shirts, a couple sweatshirts, a jacket, that sort of thing, and most of that stuff would be around 40 years old, five or take. I also have a shirt my mother made for me, probably in the same era as the sweater vest. However, there is one more thing: My Cub Scout uniform shirt, which is by far the oldest item of clothing I still have, more than 60 years old (although, oddly enough, that doesn’t fit me anymore. Huh.). So, apparently my wardrobe really is “elderly”.

This post, while it talks about real stuff, is, of course, mostly tongue in cheek. Real though all this is, I don’t take myself or the implications of having usable clothing that I’ve had for decades all that seriously. It is what is is, and all that. The reality of my, shall we say, “long-lived” wardrobe may confuse or astound some people, but as far as I'm concerned, that’s more about them.

So, none of my wardrobe is actually “elderly”—maybe “middle aged”. Still, my toungue-still-firmly-in-cheek are I are all getting ever closer to being legitimately categorised as “elderly”, so maybe my wardrobe will achieve that designation, too. Today, though, we’re all doing fine, thank you very much, and none of us are going anywhere any time soon. As far as I know. Right now, though, I need to go iron a shirt for today. That much I’m totally serious about.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 21

On September 13, 1986, a new song reached the top of the Billboard “Hot 100”: “Take My Breath Away” (video up top) by American New Wave band Berlin became the new Number One. The song was featured in the 1986 film Top Gun, which is evident in the video. The song was released on the soundtrack album for the film, as well as Berlin’s fourth studio album, Count Three & Pray.

This is another song that I remember hearing a lot at the time, and I liked the sound well enough, though it definitely was the sound more than the substance. One of my childhood friends introduced me to Berlin several years earlier, and I liked that stuff more than than this particular song. However, I also liked a LOT of the music produced by Giorgio Moroder, who also produced this song, and that could be the reason I liked this particular song even thought it didn’t seem very Berlin-y to me.

At the risk of sounding like an—ahem—broken record, I never bought this song as a single, nor the soundtrack album, or the album by Berlin, either. In fact, the only Berlin album I bought wasBest of Berlin 1979–1988, which I bought on CD in the very early 1990s (shortly after I bought my first CD player…) and I brought it with me when I moved to New Zealand in 1995, and unusually, perhaps, I actually still have that album.

As I was saying last week, back in this era I liked a lot of New Wave (and New Wave-adjacent) songs (as well as other pop music styles, of course), so in this era there were quite a few songs that I liked, but not all of them made it to Number One—in fact most of the ones I liked the most didn’t. This is another one that did.

“Take My Breath Away” reached Number 2 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), 4 in New Zealand (2x Platinum), Number One in the UK (Platinum), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” as well as the CashBox “Top 100” charts. It was certified Gold in the USA.

The Top Gun soundtrack album reached Number 3 in Australia (5x Platinum), 2 in Canada (5x Platinum), 5 in New Zealand (Platinum), 4 in the UK (2x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 9x Platinum in the USA.

Berlin’s Count Three & Pray album reached Number 38 in Australia, 85 in Canada, 20 in New Zealand, 32 in the UK (Silver), as well as reaching 61 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart.

This series will return next week, on September 20. That song will take us into October.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19 – August 30, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 20 – September 6, 2026

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19

40 years ago today, a song reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”, the final one for August. On August 30, 1986, “Higher Love” (video up top) by English singer Steve Winwood hit Number One, the first of Winwood’s songs to do so. The song was the first single from his fourth studio album, Back in the High Life.

I remember the song begin on the radio back in the day, and I liked it well enough, though I wasn’t a fan of Winwood. I never bought any of his singles or albums back in the day, though years later Nigel and I bought a compilation that included his 1980 Number 2 hit, “While You See a Chance”. I was also familiar with Winwood’s work with the 1960s band, The Spencer Davis Group, but arguably the main reason I knew about them was because Olivia Newton-John included a cover of SDG's “Gimme Some Lovin” on her 1978 album, Totally Hot, and because two years later, it was included in the soundtrack for the movie The Blues Brothers. And that’s pretty much the entire extent of my connection to Steve Winwood.

“Higher Love” reached Number 8 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 11 in New Zealand (2x Platinum), 13 in the UK (Platinum), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Mainstream Rock” charts. It wasn’t certified in the USA.

The album Back in the High Life reached Number 11 in Australia, 6 in Canada, 19 in New Zealand (Gold), 8 in the UK (Gold), as well as reaching Number 3 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 3x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return next week, on September 6. Also, how is it September already?!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026

Nigel would’ve been 62

Today my Nigel would’ve turned 62, and, just like last year’s, that would basically be “a shoulder-shrug birthday”. For me, however, the notable thing is that this is the seventh birthday Nigel never got to experience, and I use the word “experience” deliberately, because he hated being the centre of attention—and I loved to try to make a fuss of his birthday at least a little bit as much as he made a fuss of mine (sometimes I even succeeded)..

So, here we are, another birthday missed by the most important person in my adult life, and once again I’m reflective about—well everything, and this year in particular. Last week was the tenth anniversary of when I got my cardiac stent. The thing I haven’t really said often enough about that whole time is how utterly terrified I was. I was worried about how snaking a probe up through the vein in my arm and into my heart was something that might end up killing me, but that wasn’t what I was actually focused on. When they said I was going in for the procedure much earlier than I expected, I was even more terrified, not of the procedure, but that I might die without Nigel even getting the chance to say goodbye (because he couldn't get to the hospital before I went in). The only thing—literally the only thing—I kept focusing on was how much I wanted to get through the procedure so I could see Nigel again. Fortunately for us both, everything went well, and even though we only got some three more years together, we got three more years together than we otherwise might have had.

In last year’s post, I wrote, “I’ve been thinking lately how time feels to me like it’s moving far more slowly than it really is,” and that’s still true. I don’t really have any feeling for how long it’s all been, but I’m always keenly aware of Nigel, who he was, his character, his intellect, his humour, and, of course, how very much he both meant to me and also influenced me. Every single day I remember things he did, said, joked about, and, especially, the way he made me feel. All of that is because of who he was, and I was just the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth that I got to share life with him, far too short though that time was.

As it happens, I visit Nigel’s mum, my mother-in-law, on Thursdays, and I joked with her at one point, “It’s really convenient that Nigel’s birthday this year coincided with my visit day,” and she laughed and said, “Isn’t it!” It’s always nice to spend those Thursday visits with her, but I’m particularly glad that I was there with her on Nigel’s birthday, and I think it made the day a little bit easier for her. This evening, again just like last year, I made Nigel’s signature dish for my dinner, a meal I talked about back in July of last year, and just like last year, it was a good batch. That, too, made me happy.

As always, I’d much rather be celebrating Nigel’s birthday with him (obviously…), and “living whatever our life would have become”, as I put it last year. But the main thing is that he’s still a real presence in my life, and always will be.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Always.

Previously:

Nigel would’ve been 61 (2025)
Nigel would’ve been 60 (2024)
Nigel would’ve been 59 (2023)
Nigel would’ve been 58 (2022)
Nigel would’ve been 57 (2021)
Surviving the day and being okay (A 2021 post on how I handled his birthday)
We celebrated Nigel’s birthday (About the party in 2020)
It won’t be a good day (2020 – the first birthday after he died)

Special Note: I didn’t talk about Nigel’s birthday on this blog while he was alive because I wanted to protect him, and so, I didn’t share stuff that was personal to him. I talk about it now because I have no way of knowing who may run across my posts, and maybe they'll help someone else in a situation similar to mine. Besides, I love talking about my Most Important Person.

A reminder of reality

Today was an interesting day. A guy came round to change the filters in the HRV home ventilation system, something they do every two years. It was, as usual, uneventful, but it also ended up being a reminder of how old I am. It happens.

The guy who came today was different from the one who changed the filters the first two times, and it turned out that the operations in the Waikato were bought by a new company. Makes no difference to me obviously, and yet…

After he changed the filters, he checked the airflow from each of the five vents (they were all good, of course), then he sat down to fill out the paperwork, and said, “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but do I hear an American accent?” He didn’t offer why he thought it might be rude, though legend has it that Canadians get tired of being assumed to be from their southern neighbour, which is ironic because these days it’d probably be best if people thought I came from north of that same border.

I said to him, “yes, that's where i came from originally.” He asked whereabouts, and I said, “Chicago”, which is literally the place I moved to New Zealand from, however, that reminded me that whenever my parents took me on holiday—whoops: “vacation”—and someone asked where we were from, she always answered, “near Chicago” (it was really about an hour’s drive from where we lived, but she knew no one in another state or country would know of the town we actually lived in).

The guy then reasonably asked, “how long have you been here?” I said, “30 years,” and he said, “Oh!” and paused no more than a split second before adding, “As long as I’ve been born.” I probably smiled a wry smile, knowing that I’ve actually been living here for closer to 31 years than 30.

That wasn’t the first time my age has been driven home for me, and it’s usually been inadvertent, except when it wasn’t. When I turned 60, Nigel had great fun saying to me, “Fuck you’re old!” Well, that and “I can’t believe I’m going to be married to a SIXTY year old!” I was so looking forward to being able to return the favour when he turned 60, but I never got the chance: He was 55 when he died.

The real truth is, I don’t actually care about how old I am, though sometimes I like to pretend I’m offended when someone mentions my age. Mainly, I’m on team “getting older beats the alternative”. However, I also know that the disconnect between my actual age and how old my brain thinks I am is widening, and I’ve read that’s quite common for people as they age. It certainly is for me, anyway.

I’m not sensitive about my age—it is what it is—but I’m definitely aware of it and of possible future issues. That’s why I started walking every day (except for sick days) for more than a year and a half, and why I started researching more things I can do that may help keep me in reasonably good condition as I get ever-closer to a true “elderly” age.

At the same time, I’m also keenly aware that getting older is a gift not everyone receives, and that’s particularly true this month: Next week is Nigel’s birthday, the seventh he never got to experience, just like the seven of my own birthdays he also never got to experience—or tease me about.

These are things I’m always aware of to some extent or other, but it’s usually front of mind only when something raises it up in front of my face and says, “Hey! You’re old!”. Today a guy innocently reminded me that I’ve lived in New Zealand longer than he’s been alive, and, of course, I also had an even longer life in my native land before that. There are plenty of other everyday things that can remind me, too, of course, but overall, I’d rather be reminded of my age than not be here to be reminded.

One thing is certain: There will be more reminders for as long as I live. And I’m fine with that.

I wrote a detailed post about the HRV system when it was installed in 2020.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18

Sorry, one week off and I nearly forgot that 40 years ago today there was another song that reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. On August 16, 1986, “Papa Don't Preach” (video up top) by American singer Madonna hit the top of the charts. The song, which would be Number One for two weeks, was the second single from her third studio album, True Blue (the first single was “Live To Tell”, which was the subject of Part 11 of this series back in June).

I liked this song well enough at the time, but if I’m truly honest, that was at least in part because of the reactions of two different groups of people (I could be contrarian that way). The Wikipedia article linkd about describes it well:

The song sparked controversy upon release for its subject matter, drawing criticism from women's and family planning organizations, who accused Madonna of glamorizing teenage pregnancy. Conversely, pro-life groups praised it for seemingly endorsing motherhood over abortion.

I distinctly remember rolling my eyes at back then, snarling something like, “It’s just a fucking song, for fuck’s sake”. I had no more patience then for what I thought was over-reacation than I do now. Some things don’t change. Mind you, my snarl was only in my mind because I hardly ever swore back then—okay, some things DO change. Apparently.

I also well remember the music video, and part of the reason for that was the actor who played Madonna’s boyfriend, actor Alex McArthur, who I thought was quite pretty (he’s just under two years older than me). However, I also recognised Alexander from promotional materials from the 1985 lesbian film, Desert Hearts—even though I can’t remember actually seeing the film. None of that has anything to do with the song, really, but it was a thing back then. Watching the video now, I was struck by the times that the Twin Towers appeared in the background of the shots filmed in Staten Island. I doubt I paid any attention to that back in the day, but now it was the first thing that stuck out for me. Time can change some things.

“Papa Don't Preach” reached Number One in Australia and Canada, Number 3 in New Zealand (Gold), Number One in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Dance Singles” charts, as well as Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart and the Radio & Records “CHR & Pop” charts. It was certified Platinum in the USA.

The album True Blue reached Number One in Australia (4x Platinum), Canada (Diamond), New Zealand (5x Platinum), and the UK (7x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart and on the Cash Box “Top 100 Albums” chart. It was certified 7x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in two weeks, on August 30, with the final Number One for August. How will September go?

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026

The stuff of life

Many years ago (up to 15, I think), I switched us to the soy and linseed variety of a supermarket bread called Bürgen. It was for specific health reasons, and that decision meant that bread was a part of the life Nigel and I shared. Today it was announced that the Australian owners of the Bürgen brand are withdrawing it from New Zealand. That baked up some memories.

I suggested to Nigel that we switch to the bread because its soy and linseed were good for heart health, and especially because at the time it was the only low GI bread sold in supermarkets (this was well before my cardiac stent). Nigel and I ended up having some nearly every morning after that—in fact, it was part of Nigel’s weekday breakfasts for the last several years of his life (usually prepared by me): Peanut butter and jam on toast, and put on a plastic plate so he could bring it in the car on his commute to the office, and he’d use an old tea towel as a bib so he wouldn’t drop any on his work shirt. Because he’d often forget to bring them back into the house when he came home, he’d sometimes bring in a stack of plates and tea towels for me to deal with—and several times I had to go out to his car to collect them myself because we were starting to run out of the supplies (I mentioned all this in a a 2023 post (forst iterm).

After Nigel died I moved to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton and noticed that particular variety of bread was getting harder and harder to find, especially at my local Woolworths, where it was often out of stock (I could get it for more often by home delivery from Woolies, or from the nearest New World). So, I started using my breadmaker sometimes, and then started experimenting with other supermarket brands, including others with soy and linseed. That led to a bit of a revelation.

I was surprised at how much more fibre per 100 grams other brands had than the Bürgen loaf we’d always bought. In fact, I thought about blogging about that, since I’d talked about the bread and it also relates to my continuing health journey. If I’d done that post, I would’ve mentioned that the Bürgen Soy and Linseed bread has 4.4 grams of fibre per 100 grams of bread, along with 347g of sodium per 100g, and total cabs of 27.6g per 100 grams. This compares to the bread I usually buy these days, a “lower carb” loaf: Fibre is 8.9g per 100g, sodium is 355g per 100g, and total carbs is 24.8g per 100g. Well, at least the fibre of the current bread is a lot higher. But, there’s more!

As it happens, I’ve been learning a lot lately about healthier eating, and I learned that if you freeze bread, the carbs are turned into what’s called “resistant starch”, which is important because the body can’t break it down as quickly as normal starch, and that means the body treats it more like dietary fiber, which reduces the bread's glycemic index (GI), reducing blood sugar spikes (and lower GI bread was one of the reasons we switched to the Bürgen all those years ago). Bonus fact: refrigerating cooked pasta or white rice overnight does the same thing for them, and that doesn’t change when you re-heat it the next day. I definitely plan on starting to keep my bread in the freezer, but I need to clear space—and I only learned about these “resistant starch” tricks in the past week, so I’m cutting myself some slack on this.

in the past couplpe years, and probably partly because it was often difficult to get the Bürgen bread here in Hamilton, I gradually became less enthused about the bread we’d had for all those years, so I doubt I’ll miss it. However, the Bürgen slice size was smaller than most supermarket breads, and that I will miss.

Seeing the announcement this morning made me think of two things. First, how even something as small (literally) as a loaf of supermarket bread can be a constant in our lives. The other thing was that I really ought to resume trying to find a breadmaker recipe that I actually like (the results have been mostly “meh” for me for several years, which is why I hardly ever make bread any more). I know I probably won’t do that, though—there are far too many other things demanding my time, attention, and my sometimes limited energy. Besides, there are plenty of options available already made for me.

Yes, all that. But what I wouldn’t give to still be making peanut butter and jam on toast for Nigel. Of course.

Framing my egg choices

It’s not unusual for me to revist ttopics I talked about in previous posts, and it’s usually because something’s changed or I have new information. This post is about both. I actually had two cooking-related posts planned for last month, but only one made it onto the blog, and that one was without the relevant photos. I worked on the other one at the end of last month, and it was meant to be about revisiting my past—until I discovered something that meant I needed to start over, and that’s where this story truly begins.

In two different posts I talked about a breakfast meal Nigel called “Toasty Eggs”, which is basically a fried egg cooked inside a piece of bread with a round hole cut in the middle. It’s unhealthy, but also really nice, and I’m sure part of that is just because of the nostalgia. Both of the posts I mentioned the meal in were about memory.

In the first of the two posts, from October 2023, I talked about it in connection with my memories of Nigel and also from my childhood, and I talked about two things that struck me when I looked at the post last month. In that post, I mentioned how challenging I found making it because:

The hole in the bread had to be big enough to contain the egg, but not big enough to compromise the structural integrity of the bread frame—it was delicate work. Then, I had to flip it at exactly the right moment to cook the white on the other side without breaking the yolk, and then cooking it just long enough to cook the white without overcooking the yolk.

The second thing I noticed was that I mentioned the children’s cookbook we had in the house when I was growing up, which I later found online as a facsimile edition, something I talked about back in January, and I even referred to my 2023 post and how the cookbook had confirmed my memory of the book calling the dish “eggs in a frame”. However, neither in January nor since did I ever actually read the recipe—until I was getting ready for the July post that didn’t happen, and it was all because I wanted a photo of the recipe page.

When I actually read the recipe (at right), I saw that it said to cook the bread one side and flip it over before putting the egg into the hole. When I made it in late July, I thought about doing exactly that because I thought it might make the bread stronger before I added the raw egg. When I saw that the recipe said to cook the bread on one side first, I also realised that it would make it unnecessary to flip the bread.

When I make ordinary fried eggs (or poached eggs, for that matter), I break the raw eggs into a ramekin first, both in case the yolk breaks and I need to switch to scrambled eggs, and to make it easier to pour the egg into the pan. For fried eggs, I then add a teaspoon or so of water to the frypan and put a lit over it. The point is to let the steam cook the top of the egg while the hot pan cooks the underside (I saw some TV chef advise that). The lid I use is see-through, and I can watch until the yolk and white is properly set, and over time I’ve worked out by watching it when I can turn off the heat and let the residual heat finish the last few seconds.

I did basically the same thing with the “eggs in a frame” in the photo up top, and it was far easier than it was at any other time in New Zealand: The bread was, indeed, stronger after frying one side first, and the final result was more like a fried egg in a frame, which was the intent. The thing is, though, I know that when I was a little kid I followed recipes precisely, and that means I probably cooked the bread on one side first (and that I probably used butter to fry it in…). And I simply forgot that detail in the decades between when I made it in the USA and when I started making it again in New Zealand. If Nigel minded my mucked-up method, he never said anything—but I know he’d prefer it done the “proper” way.

When I was researching the post in July and read that 2023 blog post, I realised something else: I spelled it “Toasty Egg” because in my mind it was toast-and-egg. While Nigel never wrote down the name (and never had any reason to, of course), I think he’d probably have spelled it “Toastie Egg” because a toasted sandwich (sometimes called “grilled” in the USA, though there are differences) is often called a “toastie” in New Zealand, as in “a cheese toastie” instead of the USA’s “grilled cheese”. In my mind, Nigel used a common NZ term for something with fried bread to name this meal, while I made the name from the two elements in it, not directly connected to any other dish. Nigel would sometimes tease me, joking that, “you Americans are a simple people,” and this is exactly the sort of thing he’d tease me about—and I now know that he wasn’t wrong (to paraphrase a common Kiwi saying).

Back in July, this post was going to be about me making a meal I made as a kid, then again decades later for Nigel, and more recently for myself. I wanted to add the specific cookbook reference I mentioned in 2023, and that led me to a whole bunch of realisations, all of which I may never have connected together if it wasn’t for this blog. And that right there is why I still blog.

Eggs, cooked whatever way, are optional.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16

On July 26, 1986 “Sledgehammer” (video up top) by English rock musician Peter Gabriel became the month’s final one-week Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. Released on April 16, 1986 it was the lead single from Gabriel’s fifth studio album, So. I first heard of Gabriel when he was a founding member of Genesis, where he would remain until 1975 when he began his solo career. I think it’s kind of, sort of, ironic that the subject of last week’s “Weekend Diversion” post was a Genesis song.

I was aware of Gabriel’s solo work, and it was impossible to miss “Sledgehammer”—especially its music video (above). That video! It was ground-breaking at the time, and went on to become the all-rime most-played music video on MTV. In fact, the story of the video is so expansive that I can’t do it justice with a brief discussion here, so instead I’d recommend Wikipedia’s section discussion of it in its article about “Sledgehammer” (the entire article is linked above). I was fascinated by the video. It reminded me of a lot of stop-motion animation I’d seen over the years—and yet is was nothing like any of those. As I remember it, it was the video that made me like the song though, as was so often the case, I never bought the song or the album—or any others by Gabriel, for that matter. I liked the video and song, though.

“Sledgehammer” reached Number 3 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 3 in New Zealand (Platinum), 4 in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, “US Album Rock Tracks”, and on their “US Dance/Disco Club Play” charts, as well as reaching Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. I didn’t receive a certification in the USA.

The album So reached Number 5 in Australia (3x Platinum), Number One in Canada, New Zealand (5x Platinum), and the UK (3x Platinum), and Number 2 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200”. The album was certified 5x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in next week, on August 2, and it’s not a last one-week Number One song!. As I said last week, August will be less work for me.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14­

This week forty years ago saw the second July 1986 one-week Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. On July 12, 1986 “Holding Back the Years” (video up top) by English pop and soul band Simply Red reached Number One. Released on November 4, 1985, the song was the third of five singles from the band’s debut studio album, Picture Book, which was released on October 11, 1985. The song was written by Simply Red’s lead singer, Mick Hucknall, and Neil Reid.

I remember that when “Holding Back the Years” came out I thought it was one of the most interesting songs I’d heard in ages. I can’t remember for sure, but I think I may have had the album Picture Book, but since my albums didn’t make it to New Zealand when I moved here 30+ years ago, I can’t remember for sure (as I recall, I had a couple hundred vinyl albums when I left Chicago).

However, if I liked Simply Red, it was nothing compared to Nigel, who really liked them. While I don’t remember what he had before we met, I know that we ended up with five of their CDs (including Picture Book, which we got very inexpensively at discount store The Warehouse, where Nigel and I bought a lot of inexpensive CDs and some DVDs). We also bought the band’s 1998 DVD, Simply Red Live In London. I still have all of those, and Simply Red is still among the most-represented acts in our collection. There were times during which Nigel would play little else (something he did with plenty of other artists, too, like Nina Simone, for example). All of which means that, for me, “Holding Back the Years” was one of many Simply Red songs in the soundtrack of my life with Nigel.

“Holding Back the Years” reached Number 16 in Australia, 6 in Canada, 40 in New Zealand (Platinum), 2 in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, 4 of their “US Adult Contemporary” chart, and 29 on their “US Hot Black Singles” chart. It also reached Number 4 on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart.

The album Picture Book reached Number 6 in Australia (2x Platinum), 7 in Canada, 9 in New Zealand (Platinum), 2 in the UK (5x Platinum), and Number 16 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200”. The album was certified Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in next week, on July 19, with the next Number One song from July 1986.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026

Successful return to the past

Yesterday morning I did something I haven’t done for nearly 60 years: I made scrambled eggs in a cast iron pan. That sentence raises so many eyebrows (even for me), that there’s only one logical solution: A blog post. And here we are.

When I was a young boy, my mother used cast iron pans—a larger-sized one, a medium one, and a small one. She also had a large deep-sided pan with a cast iron lid that she called a Dutch oven, but, to modern day me, it was like a very deep fry pan with a lid, though the use is what matters. Her pots, on the other hand, were all aluminium.

At some point around 1970, my parents got an aluminium fry pan with a Teflon coating, and that’s what I used after that—and nearly all my fry pans from that point were also aluminium with a nonstick coating right up until very recently. Some years back, I became aware of the research showing evidence of the potential toxicity of PFAS, the chemicals that are the artificial chemicals that are used in nonstick coating for cookware, but also in flame retardants, waterproofing treatments, carpets, yoga mats, wall paint, adhesives, and lots of other stuff. The stuff stay around in the environment for such an incredibly long time that they’re commonly known as “forever chemicals”. Some PFAS are carcinogens or endocrine disruptors and have been linked to all sorts of health problems. I wanted to move away from non-stick cookware to avoid PFAS.

Sometime between 15 and 20 years ago, Nigel bought us a set of stainless steel pots and pans from an online liquidation auction company, and I still have them all. He later got us a set of name-brand non-stick pots and pans that were all in a line carrying the name of a famous British chef and TV cooking show presenter (the brand and names aren’t relevant to my point). Nigel preferred the non-stick pots and pans, and for a time I was indifferent—though the nonstick frypans were undeniably easier to clean than the stainless steel one we also had.

Around 2015, give or take, I’d started becoming increasingly concerned about the proliferation of chemicals in everyday life—but I still used the non-stick cookware. That all changed after Nigel died and I moved to Hamilton: The hob (cooktop) in my new house was induction and incompatible with the non-stick cookware, apart from the two frypans, which had a steel plate in their bases for better heat capabilities (the pots’ metal were all exclusively aluminium). I gave the pots away, and kept the frypans.

The smaller of the two frypans (the oldest one, which Nigel bought separately) began to lose its non-stickiness, and I knew I needed a replacement. I decided to go back to my roots and buy a NZ-made cast iron fry pan, which I did in 2022. I didn’t mention that here at the time, but I did in 2024 when bought the same company's cast iron dutch oven to replace our older one that was also incompatible with my induction hob.

Cast iron has to be “seasoned” to be used, and over time it develops a natural non-stick surface. However, I only recently started using that pan reasonably often, so I didn’t know if it was non-stick enough. But it was becoming more urgent that I use it because a similarly sized ceramic-coated pan I was using was losing its non-stickability, and I needed an alternative.

It turned out that the cast-iron pan performed very well, with only a little sticking at the edges, where the base meets the wall, which is acceptable to me. It was, in fact, better than either the failed nonstick pan or the ceramic one, and the scrambled eggs stayed together, which is what I was after that day. My next attempt will be to try making fried eggs, and if that’s acceptable I’ll no longer need either the ceramic pan or the last remaining nonstick pan I have, although that one I’ll need to replace regatless because it’s slowly losing its non-stickability, and its surface is starting to get pits in it, which means it’s time for it to go).

I’m still mastering (re-mastering?) the use of cast iron cookware, a lifetime after I last regularly used that kind, but I feel good about this change—actually, it’s not a change as much as it’s going back to my roots. Apparently, this really is a successful return to my past from decades ago, but one that’s been in the works, one way or another, for many years. It’s about time. And patience. And the right cookware.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13

A new month and a new song reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100” forty years ago today. Today’s song was the first of four one-week Number One songs in July 1985—a new Number One every week that month. On July 5, 1986 “There'll Be Sad Songs (To Make You Cry)” (video up top) by Trinidadian-British singer and songwriter Billy Ocean (the stage name of Leslie Sebastian Charles) reached Number One. Released on January 22, 1986, the song was the second of four singles from Ocean’s sixth studio album, Love Zone, which was released on May 6, 1986. It was written and produced by Wayne Brathwaite and Barry Eastmond, with Ocean also reciveing a co-writing credit. The song was also reportedly the 600 th song to reach Number One on the Billboard chart.

I liked “There'll Be Sad Songs (To Make You Cry)”, but in researching this post I realised that I had a variety of reactions to his songs. The first of his songs that I was aware of was 1976’s "Love Really Hurts Without You”, a song that I liked because it had a classic-era Motown vibe to it. I don’t recall being aware of another of his songs until 1984’s "Caribbean Queen (No More Love on the Run)", a song I didn’t particularly like, though I also didn’t hate it. The following year, "Suddenly" was a hit, and I liked it. However, in 1986, the first single from Ocean’s album Love Zone was "When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going", and I absolutely loathed that song, and I still don’t like it, even if my negative reaction has mellowed with time.

The thing is, my dislike of both "Caribbean Queen” and "When the Going Gets Tough” was at the front of my mind when I saw what this week’s Number One was. Even so, that was a memory of disliking two earlier songs, and I was aware that I liked this week’s song. I looked at his singles discography and saw that up to and including this week’s Number One, there were songs that I both liked and didn’t like, and that’s something that has happened often over the years: The fact I dislike one song by an artist doesn’t (usually) prevent me from liking a different song by that artist, or vice versa. I presume that’s true for most people, but this is the first time I ever noticed that pattern in my own pop music journey. Learning or understanding new things is one of my favourite things about these “Weekend Diversion” posts.

“There'll Be Sad Songs (To Make You Cry)” reached Number 10 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 8 in New Zealand, 12 in the UK (Silver), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, “US Adult Contemporary”, and “US Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs” charts. It also reached Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart and Number 3 on their “US Black Contemporary Singles” chart. No information on certification for the single was included in the Wikipedia article liked above.

The album Love Zone reached Number 8 in Australia, 3 in Canada, 8 in New Zealand, and 2 in the UK (Gold), as well as reaching Number 6 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” and Number One on their “US Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums” charts. Love Zone was certified 2x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in next week, on July 12, with a new Number One song from July 1986. It’s a similar story for each of the following two weeks, but not for August.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026

Before the later salty tale

Sometimes stories have extra dimensions. I recently saw that reality in a story where I hadn’t seen it before—until someone else’s reaction reminded me. That’s a good thing.

Last Sunday I published “A salty story peppered with more”, which was just a simple story about salt and pepper grinders—until I was reminded it wasn’t. My pal Roger Green left a comment on that post:

I had never HEARD of a salt grinder. A pepper grinder I use regularly.

As I said in my reply, “actually, I’d never heard of one until well after I moved to New Zealand.” Naturally, there’s a story there, too.

When I first arrived in New Zealand in 1995, Nigel had the sort of salt container that was common at the time, as well as a supermarket pepper shaker. The photo above shows both, along with a salt pig (stay tuned…). Nigel and I replaced the salt container several times, but what I noticed about it was that there were two settings: Pour a lot, or, maybe, somewhat less: There was no shaker. I found it very difficult to work out how to use the thing (to “sprinkle” salt, I had to make the opening as small as possible). Eventually we switched to salt grinders, something I’ve used ever since.

The pepper shaker is many years old, and I still use it—however, I don’t use it unless I’m mixing a spice blend that requires a certain amount of ground pepper: It’s far easier to use that shaker than to grind pepper and then try to measure it. When it does run out some day, whatever will I do? Probably buy another.

Now, the salt pig: It's a wonderful thing. A salt pig (in New Zealand) is usually an earthenware pot that contains salt. There’s usually a spoon, often wood (as in the photo of mine above), to help dispense the salt. The idea is that salt is always available when cooking, which is useful plenty of times. However, I personally use mine mostly when making pasta (I salt the water once it’s boiling to help keep the pasta from sticking; contrary to popular belief, salting the water before it boils doesn’t make it boil faster—it’s the opposite, actually—but it does, apparently, help prevent the pasta from clumping and sticking together, or, it seems to do so for me).

Nigel wanted a salt pig for a long time, even though they were kind of old fashioned. When we were out and about one day, we saw and bought the one in the photo. I’m pretty sure it was at our last house together (though it could’ve been the house before that), but I have absolutely no memory of where or when we bought it. At the time, it just seemed like a perfectly ordinary thing to do, not worthy of note—so now I have no idea how or when it came into our lives. Even so, I use it all the time.

What this addendum is about, really, is that every story has annexes and anterooms, some of which lead to whatever our current story is. This is one of those times.

When I posted last Sunday, I thought it was a very specific story about very specific things. Roger reminded me that it was actually bigger than that, and, in fact, there was an origin story behind it. I think it’s good to think more broadly about our own stories, even the salty ones. This has been one of those times.

A salty story peppered with more

Not all the stories in our lives are deep and meaningful, or, often, even worth telling—unless one is a blogger (or similar…), in which case they're "content". In those cases, even small stories may take on a larger roll. Even when they’re "just" about food products.

Many—many—years ago, we bought a salt grinder and a pepper grinder at a supermarket then called Countdown (now called Woolworths New Zealand to align its imagery and marketing with its Australian owner). At the time, one of the store’s own brands was called “Signature Range,” and the salt grinder with that branding is at the right side of the photo at right. Even that has a story.

When I lived in Chicago (roughly 1983 to 1995), I did a lot of my grocery shopping at a supermarket chain called Jewel (or “da Jewels” as some native Chicagoans said it), which is now owned by big US company Albertsons. Jewel started selling a line of Canadian products called ”President’s Choice”. Fast forward some 30 years later and Countdown’s “Signature Range” immediately made me think of the old brand, probably because of the sort of signature-like logo. Countdown began phasing out “Signature Range” and other own brand product names to consolidate their own products lines between 2016 and 2018.

We used the two grinders for many years, refilling them whenever we needed to, which seemed to be fairly often because they were what we used both for cooking and at the table. Over time, we bought other, fancier grinders that would grind both salt and pepper (from different chambers), but we still had and used the Signature Range ones, too, until the pepper grinder broke.

After I moved to Hamilton, I realised that the fancy salt/pepper grinders we had weren’t working as well as they once did, though the Signature Range salt grinder was still going strong. Because I wanted a pepper grinder, I decided to see if Woolworths still sold the grinders, and they do! Well, sort of.

The current Woolworths brand salt and pepper grinders are at the left and centre of the photo above, and they’re different from the old brand: Smaller and noticeably much less well-made. I have a feeling they won’t last very long, certainly nowhere even close to the one or two decades that Signature Range salt grinder has lasted. Still they should last a while, anyway, before I need to find a more permanent solution.

Meanwhile, the veteran salt grinder is now by the hob (cooktop) because, as I recently learned when researching something only barely related to to this story, many chefs prefer courser salt (like that produced by a grinder). Those chefs say that ordinary table salt (like from a shaker) overwhelms dishes with saltiness because it’s finely ground, and so, courser salt is better (some table salt also has additives to prevent caking, among other things, which can affect flavour, too). It turns out that I think those chefs are right, though it hadn’t occurred to me before.

This story is a perfectly ordinary tale about me needing to replace a perfectly ordinary thing, and, as so often happens, that resulted in me remembering things from the past, and also learning new things related to my ordinary tale. Ordinary, yes, but so much of life is “ordinary”. I think that finding the adventure in the ordinary, and also learning new things along the way, makes every day better. That’s my ordinary belief, anyway. Season to taste.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11

A new month and a new song reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”: On June 7, 1986 “Live to Tell” (video up top) by American singer Madonna went to Number One. The song was the first single from her third studio album, True Blue, which was released on June 30, 1986. The song was a re-working of what had been an instrumental to make something suitable for the film At Close Range, which starred her then-husband Sean Penn.

I liked Madonna in this era of her career, and I liked this particular song well-enough, even though it was a bit slower than I typically liked at the time, but I didn’t necessarily like it as much as some of her other songs in that era. However, I was never a super-fan: I never saw her in concert, and I never bought one of her albums, as far as I can remember, though I think I bought a single or two. However, when I arrived in New Zealand in 1995, I found that Nigel had her 1990 compilation album, The Immaculate Collection, which isn’t really relevant to this blog post except that this week’s song is on it. Of course.

As the years when on, I continued to like some of Madonna’s songs, and others not as much. Once again, something that’s not unusual for me. However, forty years ago it was stereotypical for young gay men to be presumed to be big fans of Madonna, and, like most stereotypes, it was exaggerated. Nevertheless, I was 27 when this song and its album were released, and that made me a bit too old to be included in the stereotype, but also, as it turned out, a bit too old to understand why the stereotype existed. Maybe it was my first “kids these days” moment?

“Live to Tell” reached Number 7 in Australia, Number One and Canada, Number 6 in New Zealand, 2 in the UK (Silver), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and on their “Adult Contemporary” charts. It was also Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100”. The song wasn’t certified in the USA.

The album True Blue reached Number One in Australia (4x Platinum), Canada (Diamond), New Zealand (5x Platinum), and the UK (7x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart and on the Cash Box “Top 100 Albums” chart. It was certified 7x Platinum in the USA.

Since I mentioned it, the 1990 album The Immaculate Collection reached Number One in Australia (14x Platinum) and Canada (7x Platinum), 3 in New Zealand (7x Platinum), Number One in the UK (13x Platinum), and also reached Number 2 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 11x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in next week, on June 14, with the next new Number One from 1986. Unlike this week, that one wasn’t a one-week hit.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9

Forty years ago this week, on May 10, 1986, “West End Girls” (video up top) by English synth-pop duo Pet Shop Boys went to Number One. The song was originally released in April 1984, but it was re-recorded for their 1986 debut studio album, Please, which was released in March 1986. It was the first single from the album.

I was taken with the song from the beginning, and I thought the video was interesting because it was so different from other videos of the era. I htink, but I’m mot certain, that I may have bought the albumn Please, but I’m not certain about that, because if I did it was 40 years ago, and I left it behind 30 years ago, and I simply don’t remember. This is a recurring theme.

I didn’t know until I started researching this post that the lyrics were partly inspired by T. S. Eliot's 1922 poem The Waste Land (which I referred to in a blog post earlier today). I also read at the Wikipedia link about the song (above) the answer to a question I’d long wondered about, but never remembered to investigate: Who was the female back-up singer in the song? Her name is Helena Springs, and she worked extensively with Bob Dylan. Mystery (for me…) solved.

“West End Girls” (1986 version) reached Number 5 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), Number One in New Zealand (Platinum), Number One in the UK (Platinum), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and on their “Dance Club Songs” chart. It also hit Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song wasn’t certified in the USA.

The album Please reached Number 10 in Australia, Number 3 in Canada (Platinum), Number 2 in New Zealand (Platinum), Number 3 in the UK (Platinum), and Number 7 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (Platinum).

This series will return next week, on May 17, with the next new Number One from 1986. It’s not a one-week hit.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8

Back again with another Number One from 1986: Forty years ago this week, on May 3, 1986, “Addicted to Love” (video up top) by English singer and songwriter Robert Palmer went to Number One. The song, released in January 1986, was the third single from Palmer’s eighth studio album, Riptide.

I was familiar with Palmer before this song came out because of the song “Some Like it Hot” [WATCH/LISTEN], which was the debut (and probably the best known single) by the project Palmer was part of for a time, The Power Station. I’ve since acquired the song on compilation CDs, but I’m sure I once either had the 12-inch single or their debut album, The Power Station. I can’t be sure, since I have neither now, but I know I had something.

At any rate, I liked “Addicted To Love” well enough, but, um, that video? I didn’t get it. It was visually interesting and different, but the whole “models looking like bored mannequins faking playing instruments” was a bit creepy, and even in 1986 it felt kind of exploitive. It’s possible, though, that my less than positive reaction to this video is because he had the same basic thing going for three more songs, including the fifth single from Riptide, Palmer’s cover of "I Didn't Mean to Turn You On". On the other hand, having grown tired of the schtick, I was glad to see the turnabout treatment in the video for Shania Twain’s 1999 single, “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” [WATCH/LISTEN].

“Addicted To Love” reached Number 17 in Australia, 2 in Canada, 13 in New Zealand, 5 in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and on their “Top Rock Tracks” chart. It also hit Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song was certified Gold in the USA.

The album Riptide reached Number 11 in Canada (3x Platinum), Number 7 in New Zealand, Number 4 in the UK (Gold), and Number 3 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (2x Platinum.

This series will return next week, on May 10, with the next new Number One from 1986. It's another one-week Number One hit, and it’s a song I still like as much as I did in 1986.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6

 Forty years ago this week, on March 29, 1986, the new Number One song was “Rock Me Amadeus” (video up top) by Austrian musician Falco, the stage name of Johann "Hans" Hölzel. The song was the first single from Falso’s third studio album, “Falco 3”. “Rock Me Amadeus” was Falco’s only Number One hit in the USA.

I have all sorts of trivia about this song, starting with the fact that it was the first—and so far only—German-language song to reach Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. The previous highest-charted German-language song hit Number Two in 1983: “99 Luftballons” by the West German band Nena. It was also the only of his songs to be Number One in both the UK and the USA, which I guess is something.

I have my own personal trivia about the song, which I loved because I loved Falco’s work. I first heard of him when I saw his 1982 debut album, Einzelhaft, in a Chicago record shop that had a lot of the New Wave, dance, and “alternative” music I loved. I bought the album and listened to it often. I was drawn to it because I’d studied German (poorly…) in high school, and was instantly fascinated by the album. The second single was “Der Kommissar”, which I liked. I have to add that I was irritated when British rock band After the Fire released an English-language cover of the song, and, predictably, their version did better on the US pop charts. Ganz natürlich.

So, because of my history, both attempting to learn the language of many of my ancestors, and my earlier discovery of Falco, I loved “Rock Me Amadeus” (and the follow-up single, “Vienna Calling”. I think I bought the album Falco 3, but I'm not sure because if I did, neither it nor Einzelhaft came to New Zealand with me. I know—because I still have it—that I bought a 12-inch version version of "Vienna Calling", which included the American Edit of “Rock Me Amadeus”.

I also liked the video (which, as I’ve made clear by now, isn’t always the case, even when I like the song). I particularly liked the surreality of the visuals, especially the folks in biker gear accompanying Falco dressed as Mozart, and mouthing, “Amadeus, Amadeus!, Amadeus, Amadeus!”

All of which means that this week’s song was unusual among the songs in these series of posts: I liked the song, the artist, and the video. That was rare even then,

“Rock Me Amadeus” reached Number 15 in Australia (Gold), 2 in Canada (Platinum), Number One in New Zealand (Gold), Number One in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, and was also Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song was certified Platinum in the USA.

The album Falco 3 reached Number 9 in Canada (Platinum), Number 2 in New Zealand, Number 32 in the UK, and Number 3 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (Gold). The album didn’t chart in Australia.

This series will return in three weeks, on April 19, with the next new Number One from 1986.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026

One of my origin stories

Many of us can point to a moment, person, place, or thing that shaped the course of our lives. I have something from my childhood that was one of the starting points for my cooking adventures. And I was able to recapture it.

In October 2023, I wrote about what I called Memory meals”, and in that post I said in passing that “There was also a cookbook for kids in our house”, and that cookbook, first published in 1957, was called Betty Crocker’s Cookbook for Boys and Girls. That cookbook is seared into my mind because it was the first one I ever used, when I was around 7 or 8 at most.

Last year, I was planning on writing a blog post about memories of how I learned to cook various things, and that made me think of the long-gone cookbook I used in childhood. I Googled it thinking there might me an online version of it somewhere, only to find that I could buy an authorised “facsimile edition” that was a faithful reproduction of the original, though the original as a fully spiral bound one. Nevertheless, I ordered the reproduction (pictured up top).

I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with an impulse buy. But more about that later.

I made many things in that cookbook, but the main thing I remember about it is using its recipe to make scrambled eggs (image at right), and I’m pretty sure I made that for my mother as breakfast in bed at least once. In any event, I followed the recipe precisely, because I thought it was important. I was like that for many years after that, until I realised that cooking is about experimentation as much as—or possibly even more than—precision.

My mother was also a big influence in teaching me to cook, and I talked about one specific thing: THE Beef Stew (our family recipe), in a post in July 2023. I still make that, and scrambled eggs, but both are now without a recipe. I’m such a renegade—well, no, I’m just well-practiced—and “practice” is the important part.

The cookbook reproduction looks exactly like what I remembered, with the same charming late 1950 drawing style, a few somewhat oversaturated colour photograph pages, and what must’ve been radical for the times: It featured both boys and girls making the various recipes—well, line drawings of them, but still. I grew up seeing that, and that my dad cooked, too, but the reinforcement from those simple cartoon illustrations shows how much representation matters in pretty much everything.

However, there is a significant difference. The last page in the reproduction, right after the index, is a page entitled “Enjoy your cookbook today”, because “some ingredients are no longer available or have changed.” For example: “Please use only pasteurized eggs or pasteurized egg product…” in two recipes, one of which was eggnog—and as a kid I made that with raw eggs as the recipe called for. Quelle horreur! I survived, apparently.

There aren’t many things I can point to as a starting point in part of my life’s journey, but that cookbook was one of them. And that’s why I was so glad I followed my impulse and bought the cookbook. I’ve said a few times that I have very few “treasures” from my childhood and youth, and so, I have very few touchstones for the journey on how I came to become me. That means I treasure the few things I do have, and that includes this facsimile cookbook. As well it should.

When I mentioned the cookbook in that October 2023 post, it was in the context of a dish I made that, as I remembered it, the cookbook called “eggs in a frame”. It turns out, it really does call it that (and the recipe was on page 66, for the record). Sure, my memory was more reliable when I was decades younger than I am now, but there’s a part of me that’s especially happy to be able to verify that, in fact, my childhood memory was correct. Maybe that, too, shows what a big part of my young, impressionable life that cookbook was. I’m glad about that, too.