I'm delighted to see that Regatta - they who make waterproofs for ramblers - are teaming up with Bob Dylan to launch the Regatta Bob Dylan soft shell jacket.

Apparently "the black jacket features a Dylan logo on the chest, and a classic print of the singer across the back".

Awesome.

One new year's eve I went to the offie to buy a bottle of whisky and a camera film for the evening's festivities. Brilliantly, that night Bells whisky were giving away a free Kodak film with every bottle.

Yesterday I went into Massimo Dutti to buy a shirt, and I bought a shirt and .... a motorcycle helmet. (They assure me it passes all official safety tests).

Let's see. What else is an obvious match?

Change & Internal Comms went en masse to the Melcrum social media conference today. David and I spoke. I think I got carried away with rock n'roll stories and comparing blogs to pubs, but we might have got away with it.

There were some fascinating presentations.

Sinking a few beers afterwards I had discussions about rock n'roll blogging and the best rock tribute band names (my favourite being the Blondie act "Once More Into The Bleach").

Now that's what networking's all about.

And they're lovely at Melcrum. They gave me a box of chocolates (wife is eating them on the sofa as I write) and they gave me David's box of chocolates too (wife about to set about them also).

My sister bought me this picture of Bob Dylan for my my birthday.

I think it should go above the fireplace. My wife disagrees.

This business of being able to describe what you do in a word. I had my thinking challenged by a rock band last night. Well I say rock band, but I'm not sure what they were, and that's my point.

The Bees were at the London Astoria. After a shaky start they started to sound like a rock band. The next song they became a country band. Then a pop band. They proceeded to sound a bit ska, a bit reggae, a bit funky, before coming back for their encore and sounding like a Motown act!

What were they?

Dunno. I can't describe their sound in a word.

I once had the privilege of listening to Norman Mailer speak. He was talking about a bunch of stuff, but I remember something he said about the dangers of trying to explain too much in too little a space. 

He said one problem with the Bush administration is that they want to explain huge complexity and hundreds of years of history in a soundbite.

So the Bees and Norman Mailer remind me that, sometimes, simplicity won't do.

Elvis Presley is the greatest singer of all time, or so says Q magazine. Here's their top ten in full:

1. Elvis Presley

2. Aretha Franklin

3. Frank Sinatra

4. Otis Redding

5. John Lennon

6. Marvin Gaye

7. Kurt Cobain

8. Robert Plant

9. Mick Jagger

10. Jeff Buckley

This is inarguably a very good list. Here's my alternative ten:

1. Nat King Cole

2. Van Morrison

3. Kate Rusby

4. James Taylor

5. Sandy Denny

6. Bon Scott

7. Roy Orbison

8. Richard Manuel

9. Sam Cooke

10. Ray Lamontagne

Who am I missing?

Columbia Records are collecting people's stories about Bob Dylan. I'm working with my client to collect their people's stories about their organisation. So one's more glamorous than the other, but we're both using the good old story to make sense of something.

Columbia and me are even using a similar online tool to do it.

Anyway, here's the Dylan story I've just submitted.

I'd been a Dylan fan since my schooldays. But it was the summer of 1998, two years into university, that he became a part of my life.

I was living in a caravan in the Lake District with my best friend. We explored the Lakes in the days, worked in the local pub in the evenings, and played Risk and drank whisky through the nights.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend spent the summer in the south of France.

I'd just discovered Blood on the Tracks and Desire. And these songs about Bob and Sara Dylan struck me, like they have so many others, in a very personal way. The intensity of their love, the hurt they caused each other: the joy and the loss. Especially the song Sara. It still brings me to tears.

I guess I missed my girl. Anyway, she came home and I gave her this album Blood on the Tracks. She loved it. Still does. She's my wife now and it's the only Dylan album she likes me to play.

This is one of many Dylan stories I could have told. I would love to hear others, if you have them and want to share.

David and I are playing blog tennis today. We share an interest in the facial hair debate.

I had a moustache when I was 24. Yes, I know that's far too young to have a moustache, but I was inspired by my Dad's Mo and by the 24-year-old bloke at work who smoked a pipe without embarassment.

Perhaps if there's enough demand we could put an H&K contingent into the 2007 Tacheback or maybe Movember. Both events involve making a fool of yourself for a good cause.

p.s. a prize to the first person to name the moustached band pictured