John Mayer, Herbie Hancock, climbing the bridge, figuring out contemporary art and banging a drum.

So, last night I was dragged to see John Mayer. Well, not dragged, I had kind of agreed since before I knew who he was. For two reasons. I had confused him with John Butler (slightly cooler, I think, though it's hard to tell now I'm too old to be cool). I also heard he'd done something with Herbie Hancock, which makes anyone cool. Even seeing Beverly Hills Cop was made cooler by the knowledge that Herbie did one of the tracks.

John Mayer is alright. He's an excellent guitarist, if a little unimaginative in places. He's a fine singer, and a fine songwriter. In fact, I think he'd be a much happier musician (aside from the money and the Jessica Simpson thing) if he weren't so pretty. There were a lot of screaming girls there. I was one of five straight guys in the audience. Seven if you count roadies. And he does play a mean guitar. And he is a thoroughly nice guy. The sort you'd take home to your mother.

Today I went to Paddy Bedford's exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art, for the second time, and I took the audio commentary this time. Much better. But I can't help thinking that contemporary art in Australia (and the world over) is only fascinated with Bedford's work because it's running out of ideas. The paintings are lovely, in a way, but they're really very very basic - large areas of bold colour and "composition" over an ability to create something spectacular. Maybe I'm missing a point about aboriginal culture, or maybe I don't understand art. In itself, it's a great exhibition to see, but if you hear about it anywhere outside Australia, it's because the rest of the art world is even less imaginative than I gave it credit for. (Art lovers, feel free to crucify me in the comments).

I also climbed up Sydney Harbour Bridge today, for which massive thanks go to Emma particularly, and to Ben, Paul, Rob, Guy and Caroline for their generous gift. The view from the summit was incredible, and to be up there as the sun went down was a privilege. It's one of those touristy things that is ok, cause it's something everyone visiting Sydney does, but it's something I'll remember forever.

I've just got back from a drumming evening on Bondi Beach. The police broke it up about 20 minutes after we got there, but we hung around long enough for me to poi myself in the balls. I met a chap from Leipzig who cooks a mean Goulash, and a man who used to repair elevators. With that to start it, who knows what this weekend will bring?