Just Passing Through Podcast

Send us a textEpisode 201She was born in a cave during a thunderstorm. A child so strange in appearance and so wrapped in mystery that whispers of witchcraft followed her from the cradle to the grave. Her name was Ursula Southeil—though most remember her by another: Old Mother Shipton.In the 16th century, England was a place of upheaval. Kings and queens rose and fell. The world was expanding. Science and superstition danced an uneasy waltz. And in the midst of it all, this Yorkshire prophetess was said to foresee it all—fires, plagues, invasions, and even flying machines.But who was she, really? A cunning woman? A folk legend? Or something far stranger?This is the story of Old Mother Shipton—the woman who saw the future, and still haunts the past.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 200Before the top hat, before the roaring solos that defined a generation, and long before the stadiums full of screaming fans, there was just a kid named Saul.Born to a mixed-race couple in the UK — a free-spirited Black American artist mother and a white English album cover designer father — Saul Hudson's early years were anything but typical. He spent his earliest days in the quiet English town of Stoke-on-Trent, a far cry from the wild energy of the Sunset Strip that would later become his playground.At just six years old, Saul was pulled from the rainy streets of England and dropped into the vibrant chaos of Los Angeles, a city that would shape him, challenge him, and ultimately crown him as one of rock's greatest icons.This is the story of those early years — the influences, the chaos, the creativity — and how a quiet kid with a wild imagination became the legend we now know simply as Slash.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textCrazy Horse was a Lakota warrior who stood for freedom, tradition, and resistance. Born around 1840, he grew up watching his people's land and way of life threatened by U.S. expansion. Quiet, strong-willed, and deeply spiritual, he became a fierce leader—most famously at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, where General Custer was defeated.He never sought fame, never signed treaties, and never allowed himself to be photographed. To his people, he was a protector. To history, he remains a powerful symbol of courage, loyalty, and the fight to preserve a disappearing world.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 198On May 11th, 1985, football fans filled Valley Parade with hopes of celebration. Bradford City had just clinched promotion—their first title in 56 years. It should have been a day of joy, of triumph, of banners waving and voices raised in song.Instead, it became one of the darkest days in English football history.In just fifteen minutes, a fire tore through the Main Stand. It claimed 56 lives and scarred hundreds more. The tragedy was swift, brutal, and left a city and its club changed forever.This is not just a story about disaster. It's about what came after. About survival, grief, and rebuilding. About how football, even in its most tragic moments, reflects the spirit of a community.And now, nearly forty years to the day, Bradford City rise again—promoted once more. A new chapter begins, always remembering the one that came before.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 197 He was shot out of the sky over Hanoi, dragged from a lake, and locked away in a prison that would define the rest of his life. John McCain was a war hero, a maverick senator, and a man who never backed down from a fight — even when it was with his own party. This is the story of the trials, battles, and legacy of a man who spent more than five years in a North Vietnamese prison, and decades in American politics — a life of service, scars, and stubborn conviction.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 196He was no mastermind, no cold-eyed kingpin orchestrating a perfect crime. Ronnie Biggs was something else entirely — an unlikely outlaw, a charming misfit who stumbled into one of the most audacious heists in British history and then did something few manage: he vanished. This is not a story of sharp suits and silent safes, but of grit and greed, of panic and passports, of back-alley surgeries and samba drums.It's the tale of a man who coshed no one, fired no gun, but found his name chained forever to a crime that shook the country. From a grey English prison to the sun-blasted streets of Rio de Janeiro, this is the story of a man who ran far, ran fast, and ran out of time.Ronnie Biggs: train robber, fugitive, folk antihero. This is how he slipped the net — and what happened after.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 195He came from the kind of streets where nobody makes it out clean. Brownsville, Brooklyn—where the walls talked in gunshots and glass, and kids learned how to run before they learned how to read. Mike Tyson wasn't born into fame. He was born into chaos.He was small. He was quiet. He had a lisp, wore broken clothes, kept pigeons on rooftops. And for all the fire that lived in him, the world never looked twice—until he fought back.This story begins before the belts. Before the knockouts. Before the roar of arenas. It begins in darkness—where fists were currency, pain was normal, and nothing was ever promised.It's about the boy who found a father in an old trainer named Cus D'Amato. The boy who was broken, then rebuilt in a crumbling gym with blood on the mats and dreams in the rafters.It's about loss, discipline, violence, obsession. About the moment he realized he could become something terrifying. Something unforgettable. Something the world hadn't seen before.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 194There are stories passed from mouth to mouth, drifting like smoke down dirt roads and along backwoods barrooms. Stories of a man with a guitar slung low, fingers that moved like lightning, and songs that made even the dead stop and listen.His name was Robert Johnson. But he was more than just a name.Born into poverty, raised in shadows, and chased by ghosts—he wandered the South like a man searching for something only he could hear. They say he played so well it wasn't natural. They say he vanished one night and came back with the Devil's music in his blood.This is not just a tale of a bluesman. This is a walk through the mist and fire of America's haunted heartland. A story of broken roads, lost love, cursed strings, and the thin line between genius and damnation.This is the story of the man who met midnight.And never came back the same.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 193The battle may have crowned him a hero, but peace made him a problem.In Part Two of our journey, the wild son of Nice is no longer charging into war with a sword raised high—he's limping, wounded, betrayed, and watching the nation he helped forge slip from his grasp. But the fire never leaves him. From the storming of Rome to the heartbreak of seeing his ideals sold off like scraps, Giuseppe Garibaldi's final years are a story of stubborn courage, disillusionment, and an unbreakable belief in freedom.This is not a tale of quiet retirement. It's one of final battles, old loves, bitter enemies, and a man still burning at the edge of history.Strap in. The legend isn't done yet.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 192Before he became a hero of two worlds, before Italy bore his name in street corners and city squares, Giuseppe Garibaldi was just a boy from Nice—driven by fire and a fierce desire to change the world. In this opening chapter of his remarkable life, we trace his earliest adventures: from the windswept coast of Liguria to the chaos of revolution, exile, and first bloodshed in South America.Discover how betrayal shaped him, how exile hardened him, and how the sale of his beloved homeland to France lit a flame that would burn across continents. This is fire, blood, conviction—and the beginning of a man who refused to bow, refused to break, and lived only to liberate.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 191He was the swagger in the storm, the howl in the night, the electric pulse running through the veins of rock ‘n' roll. A tattooed troubadour with a crooked grin and a voice that sounded like it had been soaked in whiskey and set on fire. Bon Scott didn't just sing—he lived the lyrics. Hard, fast, and always one heartbeat away from the edge.But behind the denim, the strut, and the devilish wink was a man far more complex than the screaming frontman of AC/DC. This is the story of a Scottish-born kid who landed in Australia and set the world alight. Of heartbreak, of brotherhood, of the road, and of a voice that became immortal just as its owner slipped away.In this short journey through his life, we won't just hear the music. We'll walk the stages, ride the vans, feel the sting of cold nights and roaring crowds. And maybe, just maybe, we'll understand how one man burned so brightly, even if only for a short while.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 190He wasn't born into power. He wasn't destined for greatness. But by the time James Cook sailed his last voyage, he had redrawn the map of the world.From a humble Yorkshire farm boy to the most celebrated explorer of his age, Cook's journeys were the stuff of myth—charting lands no European had ever seen, facing storms, starvation, and mutiny, and making first contact with entire cultures. He was a genius navigator, a man of science, and—depending on who you ask—a heroic adventurer or an agent of empire.But his story doesn't end with glory. It ends in blood, on the shores of Hawaii, where admiration turned to suspicion—and where one of history's greatest explorers met his unexpected and violent end.In this short history, we trace the life, voyages, and ultimate downfall of Captain James Cook—a man who changed the world, and paid the price for it.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 189There are managers who win, and there are managers who inspire. And then, there was Brian Clough. A man who did both—but never the way you expected. His story is one of belief, defiance, and an unshakable will to prove the world wrong.This is not the tale of his entire career, nor a full chronicle of his triumphs and controversies. Instead, this is the story of one remarkable chapter, a moment in time when Clough, alongside his trusted lieutenant Peter Taylor, took a club from the middle of England and placed them at the very summit of European football.Nottingham Forest's rise from the shadows to the pinnacle of the game was no accident. It was built on Clough's genius, his charisma, his fire. From the quiet struggles of his brief, ill-fated spells at Brighton and Leeds to the unstoppable march through English and European football with Forest, this is a tale of redemption, determination, and an unrelenting pursuit of greatness.And at its heart, there's a night in Munich. A night when a provincial club, fueled by belief and led by a maverick, toppled giants and became kings of Europe.This is the story of that journey. The setbacks, the triumphs, and the man who made it all possible.This is Brian Clough. This is Nottingham Forest. And this is how they conquered the world.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 188Some actors leave their mark on Hollywood with a single role. Others define entire genres. Then, there's Gene Hackman—a man whose presence on screen was so commanding, so effortlessly real, that he became a legend across decades, without ever seeming to try.This is the story of a man who came from nothing, shaped by hardship and rejection, who turned every obstacle into fuel for his rise. From a rebellious teenager lying about his age to join the Marines, to a struggling actor scraping by in New York, to an Academy Award-winning icon who made audiences believe in every word he spoke—Hackman's journey was anything but easy.Yet, through it all, he remained one thing above all else: authentic. Whether playing the relentless Popeye Doyle in The French Connection, the ruthless Little Bill Daggett in Unforgiven, or even the cunning Lex Luthor, his performances carried a weight that felt lived-in, raw, and unforgettable.But beyond the roles, beyond the accolades, was a man who quietly walked away from it all, choosing a life of peace over the spotlight. In this short audiobook, we explore the life, the career, and the lasting legacy of Gene Hackman—a Hollywood great who never needed the glitz to be remembered.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 187Narendra Modi's rise from humble beginnings in Gujarat to becoming one of the most influential leaders of modern India is a story of determination, vision, and unwavering commitment. Known for his bold decisions, strategic reforms, and strong leadership, Modi has played a pivotal role in shaping India's growth on the global stage. His tenure as Prime Minister has seen significant changes in India's economy, foreign policy, and social structure, often met with both admiration and criticism. In this audiobook, we delve into the key events and decisions that have defined his journey, examining how his leadership has shaped the trajectory of a nation and its people.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 186For a man whose name is synonymous with the biggest band the world has ever known, Ringo Starr's story has often been overshadowed. He was the fourth and final piece of the Beatles puzzle, the unassuming drummer who sat at the back while Lennon and McCartney took the spotlight. Yet, beneath the steady beat of his rhythms and the easygoing charm, Ringo Starr's journey was one of resilience, luck, and a quiet determination that carried him from the backstreets of post-war Liverpool to the absolute pinnacle of global fame.Born Richard Starkey, his childhood was anything but glamorous. A sickly boy, he spent more time in hospital beds than in school, narrowly surviving illnesses that could have set his life on a different path. But through it all, there was music. The infectious rhythms of skiffle, the pulse of rock and roll—it was a sound that reached him even as he lay confined to a hospital ward. By the time he was a teenager, he had traded factory work for drumsticks, carving out a name for himself in the smoke-filled clubs of Liverpool's raw and raucous music scene.Then came the call that changed everything. August 1962. The Beatles, already a local phenomenon, had a problem. Their drummer, Pete Best, was out, and they needed someone new—someone rock-solid, with flair, with charisma. The answer? Ringo. In a decision that would alter the course of music history, he stepped behind the kit, and the Fab Four were complete.Yet Ringo was never just ‘the drummer.' His playing, often underrated, was the secret ingredient in the Beatles' alchemy—a backbeat that gave shape and swing to their most legendary songs. And when the band imploded, Ringo did what many never expected: he thrived. While others wrestled with their legacies, he found a new life beyond the Beatles—solo hits, films, collaborations with the biggest names in music, and a second act that has lasted longer than the Beatles themselves.This is the story of the boy from Dingle, who fought through hardship, outlasted expectation, and found his place in history. It's the story of Ringo Starr—the drummer who kept the world in time, the Beatle who never looked back, and the man who, against all odds, just kept playing.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 185For nearly six years, the Yorkshire Ripper terrorized the north of England. Thirteen women murdered, seven more brutally attacked. And for much of that time, the man leading the hunt was George Oldfield—one of Britain's most respected detectives.But this is not just the story of a killer. It is the story of a mistake, one that cost lives and shattered reputations.In 1979, with the public gripped by fear and the investigation at a standstill, a package arrived at West Yorkshire Police. Inside was a cassette tape, its contents chilling. A man with a heavy Wearside accent taunted the police, mocking their failure to catch him, signing off with a sinister warning:"I'm Jack. I see you're still having no luck catching me.'' Tick, tock, tick, tock.Oldfield was convinced. This was their man. The Ripper. For months, the full force of British policing turned its attention to the Northeast, ignoring leads that pointed elsewhere. And while they searched for a phantom, Peter Sutcliffe kept killing.This is the story of how a hoaxer fooled the police, how an entire investigation was derailed, and how George Oldfield, a man who gave everything to catch a monster, became the case's 14th victim.Download Here https://www.buzzsprout.com/259571/episodes/16778207-george-oldfield-the-14th-victim.mp3?download=trueSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 184The story of Samuel Cocking is one of ambition, innovation, and an unbreakable connection between a foreigner and a rapidly changing Japan. In the wake of the Meiji Restoration, as the country opened its doors to the West, a young British-Australian merchant saw not only opportunity but the promise of a new future—one built on modernization, industry, and cultural exchange.From his early ventures in Yokohama to his remarkable acquisition of Enoshima, Cocking's life was a testament to vision and perseverance. He introduced the first lightbulbs to Japan, brought in bicycles, and built vast greenhouses, transforming a small island into a flourishing botanical haven. But his legacy extends beyond commerce and innovation—it is woven into the very fabric of Japan's modernization, a chapter often overlooked in history books.This is the story of a man who refused to let the past dictate the future, a pioneer whose dream lives on in the gardens, pathways, and glowing lights of Enoshima.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 183William Poole ~ The Butcher of the Five PointsNew York City, March 8th 1855. The streets of Lower Manhattan are a battleground of politics, power, and blood. At the heart of it all is William Poole—a gang leader, a prizefighter, a political enforcer, and a man whose very name struck fear into his enemies.That man is about to draw his last.Born into a butcher's family, Poole carved out his own empire, not with a cleaver but with his fists and his ruthless ambition. As leader of the Bowery Boys, he was a fierce advocate for the Know-Nothing Party, a group that thrived on nativist fear and anti-immigrant violence. He terrorized his rivals, clashed with the notorious Dead Rabbits, and made enemies in the city's most dangerous circles. But in the end, it wasn't the streets that took him down—it was a bullet.Who was William Poole? A patriot? A villain? Or just another product of a city where survival meant being the meanest man in the room?This is the story of William Poole—the Butcher of the Five Points.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 182“I would rather die upon yonder gallows than live in slavery.”Jamaica, 1831. A colony built on the backs of the enslaved, where the weight of oppression had long simmered beneath the surface. But in the shadows of the sugarcane fields, a man was preparing to ignite the flames of freedom. His name was Samuel Sharpe.A preacher, an orator, a visionary—Sharpe was no ordinary rebel. He did not raise a sword, nor did he seek bloodshed. Instead, he wielded words, faith, and an unshakable belief that slavery could not, and would not, last forever. What began as a peaceful strike soon erupted into one of the largest uprisings in Jamaica's history, shaking the British Empire to its core.This is the story of Samuel Sharpe—the man who turned sermons into revolution, the leader who dared to defy an empire, and the martyr whose sacrifice helped bring an end to slavery in Jamaica. His name may not be as well-known as other revolutionaries, but his impact was undeniable.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 181The American frontier was a land where life balanced on a knife's edge—where nature was as brutal as it was beautiful, and survival was never guaranteed. Among the countless men who ventured into this unforgiving wilderness, few left behind a story as remarkable as Hugh Glass.His name has drifted between fact and legend—a man who defied death, crawling hundreds of miles through hostile terrain after a brutal bear attack, driven by the instinct to survive and the bitterness of betrayal. But behind the folklore is a story not just of revenge, but of resilience.Hugh Glass was not a hero in the traditional sense. He was a man of his time—flawed, hardened by life, and shaped by the wild world around him. His journey reminds us that history is not always made by great leaders or warriors, but often by those who endure.This is the story of Hugh Glass—a man who refused to let the wilderness claim him, leaving behind a legend that still lingers on the winds of the American frontier.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 180An absolute guilty pleasure.I've been waiting to produce this episode for a while now,but saved it as a tribute to 'The King of the Oche' for Episode 'ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY!!!!'Eric Bristow was one of the most beloved and iconic figures in the world of darts. Known as "The Crafty Cockney," he revolutionized the sport with his skill, charisma, and unforgettable presence. Bristow won five World Darts Championships, cementing his legacy as one of the greatest players of all time. His confidence and no-nonsense attitude captivated British fans, earning him a special place in their hearts. Beyond his victories, Eric's personality and connection with the audience made him a true sports hero. His influence extends far beyond the oche, and the British public continues to hold him in high regard as a legend of the game.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 179Behind the thunder of Keith Richards' riffs and the swagger of Mick Jagger's vocals, there was always one steady, unshakable force—Charlie Watts. As the quiet heartbeat of The Rolling Stones, Watts was never the loudest member of the band, nor the most flamboyant. But without him, the world's greatest rock and roll band wouldn't have been the same.A jazz lover at heart, Watts brought a sense of swing and sophistication to rock music that set the Stones apart. His drumming wasn't about flash—it was about feel. For nearly 60 years, he kept time through eras of excess, reinvention, and legend.So how did this reserved, impeccably dressed drummer become one of the most respected musicians in history?Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 178 Goodison Park has been Everton's cherished home since 1892, making it one of the oldest purpose-built football stadiums in the world. Over the years, it's witnessed countless memorable moments, including hosting an FA Cup Final and serving as a venue during the 1966 FIFA World Cup. The stadium's intimate and electric atmosphere has made Merseyside derbies particularly special, with fans packed close to the action, creating an unforgettable experience.In a thrilling farewell to this historic fixture, the final Merseyside derby at Goodison Park took place on February 12, 2025, ending in a dramatic 2-2 draw. The match was filled with intensity and emotion, culminating in a stoppage-time equalizer by James Tarkowski for Everton. The celebrations led to a heated altercation, resulting in red cards for players and managers alike. This match encapsulated the passion and rivalry that Goodison Park has fostered for over a century.As Everton prepares to move to their new stadium at Bramley-Moore Dock for the 2025–26 season, the legacy of Goodison Park will undoubtedly live on in the hearts of fans. The new venue promises modern amenities and increased capacity, but the memories forged at Goodison will always hold a special place in football history.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 177David Hockney has spent a lifetime looking. At people, at landscapes, at the way light bounces off water, at the possibilities of paint, pencil, and pixels. Few artists have ever been so restless, so endlessly curious. And yet, his journey—the journey that took him from a working-class childhood in Bradford to the sun-drenched swimming pools of California and back to the wild, rolling landscapes of Yorkshire—is one of both movement and return.This is not just the story of an artist. It is the story of a boy sketching on the streets of post-war England, dreaming of a world bigger than the one he was born into. It is the story of a student in 1960s London, pushing against the limits of what art could be. It is the story of a man who found creative freedom in Los Angeles, who captured love and longing in bold, clean lines, and who, even after heartbreak and loss, never stopped painting, never stopped seeing.His work is instantly recognizable—bright, playful, alive—but beneath the color is a deeper truth: a man who has spent decades obsessing over how we look at the world. And in doing so, he has changed the way we see it.This is the story of David Hockney.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 176"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood… and with those words, Robert Frost carved his name into the heart of American poetry. A man of quiet strength and unwavering vision, Frost captured the beauty and the burden of choice, the weight of time, and the whisper of the New England landscape in every line he wrote. But beyond the pastoral charm of his verse lay a life of ambition, tragedy, and resilience—a life spent wandering the roads of literature, loss, and legacy. As always,Thank you.......Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 175During World War II, Tome Tomiyama ran a small teahouse where young kamikaze pilots spent their final nights before their fateful missions. With warmth and quiet strength, she lightened their last moments and took on the heartbreaking duty of delivering their final letters to their families. Decades later, when she passed away in 1992, an outpouring of gratitude followed from the families of the fallen. This episode explores her quiet but profound role in history—offering comfort in the face of inevitable loss.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 174In the darkest days of World War II, when the Nazi regime sought to erase entire communities, one woman defied them—not with weapons, but with courage, deception, and an unbreakable will. Irena Sendler was an ordinary social worker who became an extraordinary hero, risking everything to smuggle Jewish children out of the Warsaw Ghetto. She did this under the watchful eyes of the Gestapo, using clever disguises, secret codes, and sheer nerve.Arrested, tortured, and sentenced to death, she never broke—never revealed the names of the thousands she had saved. And yet, for decades, her story remained in the shadows.This is the story of one woman's quiet defiance against overwhelming evil. It is a story of impossible choices, of sacrifice, and of a legacy that refuses to fade.Join me as we uncover the incredible life of Irena Sendler—a woman who didn't just stand against tyranny, but outwitted it.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 173Takeji Asano, born in 1900 in Kyoto, Japan, was a masterful woodblock print artist whose works continue to captivate art enthusiasts worldwide. His journey into the world of art began at the Kyoto City School of Fine Arts and Crafts, from which he graduated in 1919. Eager to refine his skills, he furthered his studies at the Kyoto City Specialist School of Painting, completing his education in 1923. During this period, Asano was mentored by Tsuchida Bakusen, a distinguished artist and printmaker, who profoundly influenced his artistic development. In 1929, Asano co-founded the Kyoto Creative Print Society (Kyoto Sosaku-Hanga Kyokai), marking his commitment to the sōsaku-hanga movement. This movement emphasized the artist's direct involvement in every stage of printmaking—designing, carving, and printing—allowing for greater personal expression. Asano's dedication to this philosophy set him apart from many of his contemporaries. The 1930s saw Asano contributing to the "Creative Prints of Twelve Months in New Kyoto" (Sosaku-hanga shin Kyoto junikagetsu), a series that celebrated the city's evolving landscape. Collaborating with fellow artists Benji Asada and Tomikichiro Tokuriki, Asano's prints from this series showcased his keen eye for detail and his ability to capture the essence of Kyoto's transformation. As the 1950s approached, Asano began designing landscape prints for the publisher Unsodo. These works, characterized by their serene beauty and meticulous craftsmanship, remain highly sought after by collectors. Original Unsodo prints bear the Japanese date in the margin, distinguishing them from modern reprints. Throughout his career, Asano exhibited a remarkable versatility. While he initially embraced the sōsaku-hanga approach, handling all aspects of print production himself, he later collaborated with carvers, printers, and publishers in the shin-hanga tradition. This adaptability not only broadened his artistic repertoire but also enriched the Japanese printmaking landscape. Asano's legacy is a testament to his unwavering passion and dedication to his craft. His prints, often depicting tranquil landscapes and traditional scenes, offer a window into Japan's rich cultural heritage. Today, his works are celebrated for their artistic merit and historical significance, solidifying Takeji Asano's place as a luminary in the world of Japanese woodblock printing.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 172In June of 1994, with tensions escalating on the Korean Peninsula, former U.S. President Jimmy Carter undertook a bold mission to Pyongyang, North Korea. At the time, the world was teetering on the brink of crisis as North Korea threatened to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, sparking fears of a potential war. Carter, acting as a private citizen, crossed the heavily fortified DMZ into uncharted diplomatic territory.Over three tense days, Carter met directly with North Korea's leader, Kim Il-sung, a figure long shrouded in mystery and mistrust. Against all odds, the meeting bore fruit. Carter secured a pledge from Kim to freeze North Korea's nuclear program in exchange for dialogue and aid—a breakthrough that paved the way for the Agreed Framework later that year.Carter's trip wasn't without controversy; critics saw it as undermining the Clinton administration's official stance. Yet, it was undeniably a moment of remarkable diplomacy, showcasing the power of dialogue to defuse even the gravest of threats. In the end, the trip not only prevented an imminent crisis but also highlighted the profound impact of one man's determination to pursue peace.Jimmy Carter, the 39th President of the United States and a tireless champion for peace, passed away at the age of 99. Known for his humility, humanitarian efforts, and unwavering commitment to diplomacy, Carter's legacy extended far beyond his presidency. From his groundbreaking 1994 trip to North Korea to his work with Habitat for Humanity, Carter's life was a testament to the power of service and compassion.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.com

Send us a textEpisode 171Anna Nicole Smith was born Vickie Lynn Hogan on November 28, 1967, in Mexia, Texas—a small, working-class town where dreams often seemed just out of reach. Raised by her mother, Virgie Mae Tabers, a local sheriff's deputy, Vickie's early life was shaped by a mix of discipline and hardship. Her father, Donald Hogan, left the family early, leaving her mother to raise her largely on her own.As a child, Vickie was energetic and spirited, a bright light in an otherwise quiet and challenging upbringing. She spent much of her time playing with cousins and dreaming of something bigger than the dusty streets of Mexia. In school, Vickie was known for her charm and beauty, but she struggled academically and eventually dropped out of high school.In her teenage years, she took a job at Jim's Krispy Fried Chicken, where she met her first husband, Billy Smith. The two married when she was just 17, and shortly after, she gave birth to her son, Daniel, in 1986. However, the marriage didn't last. Determined to provide for her son, Vickie packed her bags and set her sights on a future far beyond Mexia.Her journey to fame began humbly as she worked in various jobs, including a stint as a waitress and later as an exotic dancer. It was during this time that she adopted the name "Anna Nicole" and caught the attention of photographers. Her striking looks—a blend of Marilyn Monroe's classic glamour and a Texas girl-next-door allure—landed her a gig with Playboy magazine.In 1993, Anna Nicole was named Playboy's Playmate of the Year, catapulting her to fame. Modeling contracts followed, most notably with Guess Jeans, where her bombshell image was splashed across billboards worldwide. She became a pop culture icon almost overnight, embodying a modern-day Marilyn Monroe, though the comparisons came with heavy expectations and scrutiny.Anna Nicole's personal life was as dramatic as her public persona. In 1994, she married J. Howard Marshall II, a billionaire oil tycoon 63 years her senior. The marriage was met with widespread controversy, with many questioning her motives. Despite the criticism, Anna Nicole maintained that the two had shared a deep bond. Marshall passed away just over a year later, sparking a years-long legal battle over his fortune.In the early 2000s, Anna Nicole's fame took a different turn with the launch of her reality TV show, The Anna Nicole Show. The show gave fans a front-row seat to her eccentric life, mixing humor and heartbreak. Yet behind the glitz and the cameras, Anna Nicole struggled with substance abuse and the pressures of fame.Tragedy struck in 2006 when her son Daniel died of a drug overdose just days after she gave birth to her daughter, Dannielynn. Less than a year later, on February 8, 2007, Anna Nicole herself was found dead in a Florida hotel room from an accidental drug overdose. She was just 39.Anna Nicole Smith's life was a rollercoaster of triumphs and tragedies, a rags-to-riches story that captivated the world. Even in death, her name remains synonymous with glamour, scandal, and the relentless pursuit of the American dream.Music:Blondie ~ Picture ThisINXS ~ Suicide BlondSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 170You're born into a world you don't quite fit into. Aberdeen, Washington—blue-collar, gray skies, a town where dreams don't stretch much further than the sawmill. You're just a kid, quiet and sensitive, drawing pictures and listening to music. Then your parents split, and it shatters something inside you. You start to feel like you don't belong anywhere—not at home, not at school, not in your own skin.But then you hear music. The Beatles at first, then punk rock—loud, raw, unapologetic. It feels like someone has finally put words and sound to all the anger and pain boiling inside you. You pick up a guitar and teach yourself to play. It's not about being good; it's about feeling something, anything. You find a friend in Krist Novoselic, and together, you start a band. You call it Nirvana.For a while, it's simple. You're playing shows in dive bars, hauling your own gear, and living off scraps. It's dirty, exhausting, but real. You write songs about the things that gnaw at you—the hypocrisy of society, the weight of expectations, the deep ache you can't seem to escape. The words come easily because they're yours, ripped straight from your soul.Then comes Nevermind. You record it, not expecting much, and suddenly, the whole world is listening. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” blows up, and now everyone knows your name. They call you the voice of a generation, but you don't want to be anyone's voice. You don't even know how to speak for yourself half the time. The fame feels like a prison, the adoration suffocating. People want pieces of you—your music, your words, your pain—but you don't have enough of yourself to give.You find some escape in heroin. It numbs the physical pain—the chronic stomach issues no one can diagnose—but it also drowns out the noise in your head. You marry Courtney Love, and together, you burn bright and fast. She's as chaotic as you are, and you love her fiercely, even when the world tries to tear you both apart. When your daughter, Frances Bean, is born, you want to be better for her. But the darkness is always there, dragging you down.By the time In Utero comes out in 1993, you're exhausted. The album is raw and jagged, a deliberate rejection of the polished success of Nevermind. You want to tell the world, “This is who I am, not what you want me to be.” But the world doesn't listen. They keep asking for more, and you have nothing left to give.In the spring of 1994, you try to escape—to find peace, or maybe just silence. Rome, then Seattle. You write a note. You pick up a shotgun. And then, it's over.But you're still here, aren't you? In the music, in the words. Every time someone plays Nevermind or sings along to “All Apologies,” they're listening to you. And maybe, in some way, you've found what you were searching for all along: to be heard, to be understood, even if it's too late for you to hear it.Music:Smells Like Teen SpiritAll ApologiesSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 169Anthony Bourdain never just sat at the table; he burned it, flipped it over, and wrote a damn good story about it. A chef, a traveler, a provocateur, and a poet of the unsanitized world, Bourdain ripped through life with a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other. He wasn't born into greatness; he clawed his way through the grime of dish pits and the drudgery of New York kitchens until his 2000 memoir, Kitchen Confidential, dropped like a Molotov cocktail in the sanitized world of Food Network fluff. Overnight, the culinary world had its anti-hero—a guy who'd rather eat a questionable sausage from a street vendor in Hanoi than sip champagne in a Michelin-starred dining room.Bourdain didn't just change television; he set it on fire and let it burn until something real emerged. A Cook's Tour was his first attempt at blending food and travel, but it was No Reservations that solidified his place as the Hunter S. Thompson of gastronomy. The man wasn't interested in perfect plating or 30-minute meals. He wanted the dirt, the grease, the stories behind the food. And he found it in the strangest places—drinking moonshine with bootleggers, eating fermented shark in Iceland, or sitting on a plastic stool in Vietnam while slurping pho and changing the world's perception of what food television could be.And the people—oh, the people he met. Bourdain was a magnet for the misfits, the outcasts, the ones with stories etched into their hands and their faces. He didn't just interview chefs or politicians; he broke bread with locals, the kind of folks most travelers don't even see. In Beirut, he ate mezze with civilians in the middle of a warzone. In Congo, he sat with fishermen who had nothing but still shared everything. His genius was his ability to listen, to be vulnerable, to be uncomfortable. He was a tall, lanky, tattooed confession booth where the world's forgotten souls poured their stories, and he carried their weight with a strange kind of grace.Bourdain wasn't fearless; he was brave. Fearless is easy—just ignore the danger. But brave? Brave is walking into a jungle, a slum, a war zone, and still saying, “Yes, I'll try that goat testicle soup.” Brave is telling the truth, even when it's ugly, even when it makes you the bad guy. And that's what he did, over and over again. He called out the bullshit of the food industry, the travel industry, and sometimes himself. He wasn't always right, but he was always honest.In the end, Bourdain's legacy isn't just the shows he made or the places he went. It's the way he made us all a little braver, a little hungrier for the world, and a little more willing to sit down with strangers and say, “Tell me your story.” He showed us that food isn't just sustenance—it's a bridge, a weapon, a love letter, and sometimes, a hard truth. And damn it, we're all better for it.Music:Iggy Pop - Lust for LifeJonathan Richman - RoadrunnerSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 168Ah, sweet freedom. One glorious month to sit back and savor the exquisite schadenfreude of being off while others toil away in the fluorescent-lit trenches of workplace misery. For eight long months, you've endured the delicate ballet of navigating normal coworkers—a refreshing upgrade from the Kafkaesque nightmare that was four years with the Worst People Ever™. Who were they? Sociopaths masquerading as team players? Passive-aggressive micromanagers? Coffee-stealing goblins? Doesn't matter. What matters is they're no longer your problem.Picture them now, shivering at their desks as another winter Monday dawns. Maybe their office heating system is just broken enough to match their frozen souls, while you sit here basking in your own personal holiday utopia. They're probably wondering where their lives went wrong as they trudge through their inboxes, neck-deep in petty email chains about who forgot to CC Karen. Karen's mad, obviously, and probably CCing everyone now. It's all so... small.Meanwhile, you, a beacon of triumph, are staring down the barrel of 31 glorious days of doing exactly what you want. Or nothing at all. It's an art, really, to fill an entire month with absolutely no regard for corporate nonsense. Will you sleep until noon just because you can? Eat breakfast at 3 PM? Binge-watch a series so bad it lowers your IQ? The possibilities are as endless as their TPS reports.Oh, how poetic it is that they must labor through office Secret Santa exchanges and forced merriment while you enjoy the most wonderful gift of all: not giving a damn. Imagine their grim holiday party. Bland hors d'oeuvres, tepid conversations, and Bob from Accounting getting just drunk enough to reveal he hates everyone. Somewhere, someone is wearing a sweater with lights and wishing they'd stayed home.And yet, through it all, there you are, untouched by the madness. You've emerged from the war zone of toxic colleagues scarred, perhaps, but victorious. You've seen the worst humanity has to offer in the form of people who'd steal your stapler and gaslight you about it. You've endured team-building exercises so cringe-inducing they should be banned under the Geneva Convention. And yet, here you are. Unstoppable. Unbothered. A phoenix rising from the ashes of mediocrity.Sure, you've earned this holiday. But there's something sweeter than rest: the knowledge that they can't escape. Not just the worst people ever, but even your current coworkers—decent as they may be—are trapped in the cycle. They'll squint at spreadsheets and juggle deadlines, while you sip something warm, staring out the window, marveling at how the world spins without you lifting a finger.So, take a deep breath, my friend. You're no longer a prisoner. You're a holiday hero. A rebel without an Outlook calendar. When your month is up, you'll return with a tan—or at least a glow—and they'll still be there, complaining about Karen.Music:Echobelly - Great ThingsBadly Drawn Boy - Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 167Zhang Qian was an explorer, diplomat, and a pivotal figure in ancient Chinese history, known especially for his role in establishing the Silk Road, the legendary trade route that connected China to the West. His life and career unfolded during the Han Dynasty, specifically under the rule of Emperor Wu, one of China's most influential rulers. Born around 195 BCE in Chenggu, in present-day Shaanxi Province, Zhang Qian started his career in the Han court and quickly gained recognition for his loyalty, intelligence, and curiosity about the world beyond China's borders.In the second century BCE, the Han Empire faced persistent threats from the Xiongnu, nomadic tribes from the north who frequently raided Chinese territories. Emperor Wu believed that an alliance with the Yuezhi, another nomadic group that had been displaced by the Xiongnu, could help contain this threat. He appointed Zhang Qian as his envoy, with a mission to seek out the Yuezhi and propose a military alliance against their common enemy, the Xiongnu.Zhang Qian set out on his journey around 138 BCE, accompanied by a small party, but was soon captured by the Xiongnu. He spent over ten years in captivity, eventually marrying a Xiongnu woman and living under their watchful eye. Despite these challenges, Zhang Qian never lost sight of his mission. After thirteen years, he managed to escape and continued his journey westward, traveling through challenging terrains and encountering diverse cultures along the way.Finally, Zhang Qian reached the Yuezhi, only to find that they were not interested in a military alliance against the Xiongnu. Nevertheless, Zhang Qian's journey was far from a failure. His travels took him as far west as Central Asia, through regions that would later become key links in the Silk Road. He returned to China in 125 BCE, bringing back detailed accounts of the lands, people, and resources he had encountered, including the sophisticated cultures of Central Asia and the possibilities for trade with distant regions.Upon his return, Zhang Qian presented his findings to Emperor Wu, who was fascinated by the potential for trade and cultural exchange. Zhang's reports emphasized the abundance of valuable goods such as horses, jade, and exotic plants, and suggested that alliances and trade relations with these regions could be mutually beneficial. Emperor Wu seized upon this vision, and it ultimately led to the creation of the Silk Road—a network of trade routes that would carry Chinese silk, spices, and other goods to the Mediterranean and beyond, while bringing new ideas, technologies, and products back to China.Zhang Qian's journey had a profound impact on Chinese history and international trade. By bridging the gap between East and West, he helped lay the foundation for centuries of cultural and economic exchange. His legacy lives on in the Silk Road, which transformed the ancient world and opened China to the broader global community. Zhang Qian's pioneering spirit and resilience continue to be celebrated as key contributions to China's rich historical and cultural heritage.Thank you for all your support,Darren.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 166Hugh Thompson Jr. was born in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1943. He grew up with a strong sense of right and wrong, nurtured by his upbringing in a small Southern town. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy and then the Army, eventually becoming a helicopter pilot with the rank of Warrant Officer. By 1968, Thompson was stationed in Vietnam, flying reconnaissance missions and transporting wounded soldiers from the battlefield.Now, let's fast forward to March 16, 1968—the day of the My Lai Massacre. Thompson's mission that day was to provide air support for a ground assault in the village of My Lai. As he circled above, Thompson began to notice disturbing scenes below: bodies of unarmed villagers lying in ditches, huts on fire, and soldiers firing indiscriminately into crowds of civilians. He quickly realized this wasn't a battle against Viet Cong forces; it was a massacre.Horrified by what he was witnessing, Thompson made the unprecedented decision to intervene, even if it meant going against his fellow soldiers. He ordered his helicopter crew to land between the American troops and the remaining villagers. In an extraordinary act of bravery, he then got out and confronted the platoon, which was led by Lieutenant William Calley, the officer directly responsible for the massacre. Thompson demanded they stop the killing immediately.Risking his own life and career, Thompson instructed his crew to cover him with their weapons as he approached the villagers. He also radioed for backup to evacuate the surviving Vietnamese civilians. Thanks to his actions, around 11 villagers were saved from imminent death.Following the massacre, Thompson was vocal about what he'd seen and reported it to his superiors. But instead of receiving commendation, he faced a harsh backlash. Military officials tried to downplay the massacre, and for years, Thompson's reputation suffered. He was criticized, ostracized, and, at one point, even received death threats.Despite the challenges, Thompson never backed down from telling the truth. Years later, after investigations brought the horrors of My Lai to public attention, the U.S. government recognized Thompson's actions as heroic. In 1998, three decades after the massacre, he was awarded the Soldier's Medal, the highest honor for bravery not involving direct enemy action.Thompson's story is one of incredible moral courage. He was a man willing to stand against his own comrades in defense of what was right, even in the face of immense pressure. By risking his life and career, Thompson saved others and bore witness to an atrocity the world needed to know about. He later said that what he did wasn't brave—it was just the right thing to do.Hugh Thompson Jr. reminds us that even in war, humanity and justice should never be abandoned. His life serves as a powerful example of moral integrity, proving that one person's courage can make a difference, even in the bleakest of times. Thanks for joining us on this journey through history.Once again these bio are cooking in the downloads.Thank you all,Darren.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 165Louis Zamperini's life was a remarkable journey from Olympic fame to wartime survival and beyond. Born in 1917 to Italian immigrants in California, he was a rebellious kid who discovered his talent for running, becoming a track star and earning a spot on the 1936 U.S. Olympic team. In Berlin, his stunning final lap in the 5,000 meters even caught the attention of Adolf Hitler, who requested to meet the young athlete. But just as Zamperini's athletic career was taking off, World War II interrupted his plans.He joined the U.S. Army Air Corps, serving as a bombardier in the Pacific. In 1943, during a search mission, his plane crashed into the ocean, leaving him and two other survivors adrift on life rafts for 47 harrowing days. They battled starvation, sharks, and relentless sun, drifting over 2,000 miles before being captured by the Japanese Navy. As a POW, Zamperini endured years of brutal treatment in various camps, where he was beaten, starved, and targeted by a sadistic guard known as "The Bird."The end of the war finally brought his liberation, but the nightmares didn't end. Struggling with PTSD and alcoholism, Zamperini's life spiraled until a spiritual awakening helped him find a path to healing. He forgave his former captors and spent his later years inspiring others with his message of resilience and forgiveness. His story, told in Unbroken, is not just about surviving the unimaginable, but also about finding redemption and peace after.Thank you for all the support and keep on downloading,folks.Pass this on and let's build this.Darren.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 164we dive into the remarkable story of Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese diplomat who risked his career to save thousands of Jewish refugees during World War II. We explore Sugihara's early life, his work in Manchukuo, and the circumstances that led him to defy orders while stationed at the Japanese consulate in Lithuania. Through his tireless efforts, Sugihara issued transit visas that allowed Jewish refugees to escape Nazi persecution. We also discuss the challenges he faced after the war, including his struggles to support his family and his eventual recognition for his humanitarian acts. This episode honors Sugihara's legacy as a diplomat who stood up for humanity during one of history's darkest times.Support the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 163Welcome to the latest episode of The Unplugged Teenager, where we dive into the drama, dilemmas, and occasional delights of raising a teenager without the smartphone crutch. This week, it's a tale of tough love, Yorkshire-style.Picture this: my 13-year-old daughter, who's been spending more time on her screen than on her schoolwork, found herself phoneless as of last Friday. Her grades have been sliding down faster than a greased-up rugby ball, and her room? Let's just say it's one sock short of being a health hazard. So, in a move inspired by my beloved Yorkshire roots, I pulled the plug—literally.Now, my Japanese wife's approach has always been to give our daughter responsibility, allowing her to manage her time and learn from her mistakes. But with clutter piling up and report cards looking grim, it was time for a change of tactics. Enter: Dad's Yorkshire way. You're getting nowt until the homework's done, the bed's made, and the attitude's adjusted.In this episode, we'll talk about the reactions: the eye-rolls, the door-slams, and even the dramatic claims of “ruining my life.” We'll chat about what it's like to go old-school, navigating the tech-free terrain and helping a teen rediscover the simple joys of real life... like, you know, talking to her parents.So,for a  few parenting confessions, and a reminder that sometimes, tough love means turning off the Wi-Fi.Thank you again for all the support,Darren.Music:Blondie - Hanging on the TelephoneBeastie Boys - SabotageSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 162In a tale that could easily be titled "How to Fund Your Dermatologist and Run from Drama: The Mai Watanabe Story," 26-year-old Mai Watanabe managed to finesse three men in their 50s out of a cool ¥155 million (about $1 million). Armed with nothing but her charm, some well-placed sob stories, and a few existential crises of her own, she made it rain yen in what has to be one of the most impressive cash grabs since Monopoly.So, how did she do it? Well, Mai didn't just ask for the money—she earned it. She spun tales of woe so detailed, even a Hallmark movie would be jealous. First up: the classic “I need to escape my overbearing parents” sob story. Nothing tugs at the heartstrings (and purse strings) like the tragic tale of a girl trying to make her way in the world while under the oppressive thumb of her parents who, of course, don't understand her dreams of freedom and Prada bags.Next, Mai introduced the drama of her “chronic skin problem.” According to her, the medical bills were stacking up, and only the best (read: expensive) treatments would help her glow like the goddess these men clearly thought she was. Suddenly, her requests for cash became "necessary medical aid," and the poor guys—who probably thought they were helping their damsel in distress—were writing checks faster than they could Google "dermatology."But it didn't stop there. Mai added a cherry on top with the most thrilling of her woes: a stalker ex-boyfriend. This one had all the makings of a crime drama. According to her, the ex was lurking around every corner, forcing her to move, hire security, and possibly purchase a few designer disguises to stay hidden. The men, likely imagining themselves as her knight in shining armor, opened their wallets wider, trying to protect their fragile flower from her dangerous past.As the yen piled up, so did the lies—until, inevitably, the police got involved. Despite pulling off the emotional equivalent of Ocean's Eleven, Mai's luck ran out when the truth finally unraveled. In court, she tried one last sob story—this time aimed at the judge—hoping for a bit of leniency. And it worked! The judge shaved six months off her 9-year sentence, reducing it to 8.5 years, proving that even when she's down, Mai Watanabe is still kind of winning.And the three men? Well, aside from some serious financial damage, they're left reflecting on the time they paid for a dermatologist, a private security force, and—probably—Mai's luxury handbag collection. At least now they can tell a cautionary tale to others: if she's asking for money to escape her stalker ex and fix her "skin condition," it might be time to run—not to the ATM.Music:Devon Cole - Sugar BabyNerf Herder - Easy MarkSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 161So there I was, a disciplined warrior of fitness and health, a paragon of self-control, fasting until 2 PM like a monk on a spiritual quest. I was the kind of person who could walk past a donut shop without even a twitch in my resolve. But then, I got a peek behind the curtain of retirement life. Four days off—four glorious, structure-free days. What could go wrong?Turns out, everything.Day one, I woke up with the sun shining through the windows, the birds chirping outside, and I thought, "You know what? I deserve a treat." Next thing I know, I'm face-deep in a bowl  12 PM, feeling like a rebel without a cause. The gym? A distant memory. I traded my kettlebells for the TV remote, and my workout gear for pajamas—yes, the ones with the elastic waistband because, well, you know.Day two, I was firmly entrenched in the chaos. Breakfast? Why not. Second breakfast? Sure. Elevensies? Don't mind if I do! My fridge, which once housed kale, quinoa, and righteous intentions, was now a crime scene of leftover pizza and half-eaten bags of chips. I wasn't just off the wagon; I was driving it straight into the nearest fast-food drive-thru.By day three, I was on a first-name basis with the delivery guy. I forgot what "clean eating" even meant—was it when you wipe the crumbs off your shirt before grabbing the next snack? And lifting? The only thing I lifted was the lid of another box of donuts. My muscles started texting me, "Miss you, bro." I left them on read.Day four arrived, and I realized I had become the very thing I swore to destroy: a retiree without a mission. I had fallen so far, so fast, that I half-expected to find myself in one of those "Before" pictures on a fitness ad. You know, the kind where the guy looks like he's been wrestling with doughnuts instead of dumbbells.But as I clawed my way back to the land of structure and discipline, I learned a valuable lesson: Life without routine is like a treadmill with no speed control—you either stand still or fly off into the junk food aisle. Retirement might be a long way off, but I've seen the darkness that lies beyond the 9-to-5, and let me tell you, it's paved with potato chips and procrastination.So, here's to getting back on track, one broccoli floret at a time. Because chaos is fun for a weekend, but I'd rather spend my golden years lifting weights than lifting pizza boxes.Put it Off - Dolly PartonSuede - TrashSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 160In a shocking and bizarre turn of events, reports have emerged that immigrants crossing the U.S. border are opting to eat cats and dogs rather than risk a meal at Burger King. The reason? According to some, the food at Burger King is just that bad.One anonymous source close to the situation explained, "Look, these people have been through hell to get here. They've faced harsh conditions, crossed dangerous terrain, and survived on almost nothing. But once they set foot in the U.S., they're confronted with the so-called 'food' at Burger King, and frankly, they're saying ‘no thanks.'"Rumors have swirled about the quality of food at the popular fast-food chain, with one recent immigrant reportedly stating, "I've eaten things you wouldn't believe to survive, but I draw the line at that Whopper. I saw the sign, I smelled the grease, and I decided my best bet was catching a stray cat instead. At least that's fresh."Another, trying to blend into American culture, took a bite of a Burger King chicken sandwich but had an immediate change of heart. "I thought, ‘This is what Americans eat? I've been lied to.' My friend had better luck grilling a street dog behind the parking lot. A little seasoning, and it was way better than that so-called burger."The trend has sparked a wave of confusion among Burger King locations near the border, where staff have noticed a sudden drop in immigrant customers. One manager in El Paso commented, "I don't get it. We're offering them a flame-grilled experience, but they're heading off to catch pigeons and stray animals instead. It's disheartening."The immigrants' newfound preference for street food over fast food has raised eyebrows across the nation. One nutritionist weighed in, saying, "Look, I'm not saying eating cats and dogs is a healthy choice, but after looking at the sodium and fat content in some of these fast-food meals, I can see why they're making that decision."Meanwhile, local shelters have seen a rise in missing pets, with one border town vet joking, "Who knew the secret to avoiding fast food indigestion was just a little bit of fur?"Burger King, in response to the unexpected PR nightmare, has released a statement assuring customers that their food meets “strict safety guidelines” and does not pose the risk of the "gastrointestinal adventures" reportedly being caused by street cuisine.But the immigrants, fresh off their perilous journeys, seem to have made up their minds. As one weary traveler put it, "I've eaten some strange things to get here, but after that trip, I just can't do a Whopper. I'd rather take my chances with the alley cats."Whether this becomes a lasting trend or simply another chapter in the complex world of immigration and food remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: when it comes to fast food, even after enduring the harshest conditions, some immigrants are saying, "No thanks, Burger King. I'll stick to the street menu."Steve Jones Duff McKagan - ElectedJohn Lennon - Power to the PeopleSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Send us a textEpisode 159So, I've just come back from the UK, right? Honestly, I've eaten so much cheese, I'm practically sweating cheddar. I'm talking the full Monty – Brie, Stilton, Red Leicester – the whole cheese board. It's like I went on a one-man mission to prop up the British dairy industry. You know it's bad when you have a full English breakfast, and you're sprinkling cheese on your bacon. I was that guy.And let me tell you, when you're not used to it, your stomach goes, "Nah, love, we don't do this anymore." I'm in Japan, right? Lovely country, great food, but they're mostly lactose intolerant. This means I'm safe from the dairy demons. You know, the moment I touched down in the UK, it was like my body went, "Well, there's no lactose intolerance here, is there? Fill your boots!" Before I knew it, I was ordering triple-cheese pizzas like they were going out of fashion.By the end of it, I was having cheese dreams – and not the good ones where you're floating on a cloud of mozzarella. No, it was like I was being chased by a giant wheel of Wensleydale down a hill, with no escape. It was a cheesy nightmare. But could I stop? No chance! Cheese became my best mate, and I was like, "Just one more slice, come on." Like a junkie, but with cheese.Anyway, I get back to Japan – and I'm lugging around an extra two kilos of pure cheese weight. I swear to God, if the cheese had any more power over me, I'd have to apply for dual citizenship. The thing is, the Japanese are mostly lactose intolerant – God bless 'em – and thank God for it because if I lived in a country that embraced dairy the way the UK does, I'd be banging on even more than the two kilos I already did. I'd have a dedicated cheese fridge, a fondue fountain in the kitchen, and be mainlining cheddar in the mornings.But here, in Japan, it's all rice and fish. Proper food, innit? I've never been so happy to see a plate of sushi in my life. It's like my stomach took a bow and went, “Finally! Some bloody relief!” Honestly, my body feels like it's been through a traumatic experience – a cheese-induced hostage situation, and it's only just come out the other side.And then – wait for it – my old employer here in Japan gets in touch. “Fancy coming back to work?” Coming back?! Mate, you had me stuck in endless meetings with nothing but vending machine coffee and "ganbatte" pep talks. No, ta, pal! The last time I worked there, I nearly lost my mind from the company-wide emails about whose bento smelled like fermented nightmares. I'm not going back to a place where the daily excitement is a new brand of instant ramen in the breakroom. No way, mate, I've just survived the cheese apocalypse; I'm not signing up for round two in the land of never-ending overtime.So here I am, two kilos heavier, recovering from a dairy binge, and politely telling my old boss in Japan to jog on. Japan, thank you for your lactose intolerance. You've saved me from a life of cheese addiction and workplace purgatory.Music: Kulashaker -HushJames - Getting Away wit ItSupport the showInsta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 158So, Oasis is reuniting in 2025? I should be excited, right? Back in '94, they were the kings of my world. I was 23, full of piss and vinegar, and those Gallagher brothers were the soundtrack to my wild, reckless youth. Nights spent dropping pills, sniffing powder, and guzzling pints like there was no tomorrow, all while shouting along to "Wonderwall" like it was some kind of anthem.But now? Now I'm in my 50s, and the idea of reliving those days feels about as appealing as a night on the town with a dodgy curry and no bathroom in sight. I've swapped late-night benders for early mornings with the dog, and the only thing I'm popping these days are multivitamins. The thought of seeing those lads on stage, possibly looking as knackered as I feel, just doesn't hit the same.Sure, Oasis made the 90s unforgettable, but do I really want to see them now, when my knees creak louder than their guitars? The idea of watching them belt out tunes while I sip on a ginger tea just feels… well, tragic. Nostalgia's a funny thing—it's like a pint of Guinness: great at the time, but too many years down the line, it's just not worth the hangover.Music: OasisYou know the anthems!!!Keep on downloading folks.Darren.Support the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 157Ah, Britain—a land of rolling hills, quaint tea shops, and, apparently, rioting racists who couldn't run a mile even if you promised them a free sausage roll at the finish line. Yes, the recent uproar in some corners of the nation has done more than just disrupt the peace. It's exposed the far right for what they truly are: a motley crew of pie-pinching, high-blood-pressure enthusiasts who wouldn't look out of place on the set of a particularly greasy episode of "Britain's Got No Talent."Let's be honest here—nothing says "serious political movement" quite like a bunch of middle-aged men huffing and puffing their way down the high street, red-faced and sweaty, looking like they've just polished off the last steak bake at Greggs. If you squint, you could almost mistake them for disgruntled customers who've just found out that Greggs is all out of cheese and onion pasties. But no, these chaps have a cause, though it's hard to take them seriously when half of them look like they'd trade their Union Jack flags for a half-price deal on sausage rolls.It's not just the waistlines that are expanding; it's the irony too. Here we have a group of people who, on the one hand, preach about the purity of the nation, and on the other, seem to spend an inordinate amount of time loitering outside Greggs, clutching brown paper bags filled with the very pastries they've just nicked from under the nose of the bewildered cashier. Their so-called "uprisings" often seem to coincide with a shortage of steak bakes, as if their fury is fueled not by some misguided ideology, but by hunger pangs.You can almost picture the scene: a local pie shop, the heart of the community, suddenly overrun by an army of red-faced, heavy-breathing blokes in ill-fitting tracksuits. "Give us our country back!" they bellow, but their words are muffled by the mouthfuls of flaky pastry they've just inhaled. It's a sight to behold—a patriotic protest turning into a pie-eating contest before your very eyes. If only the revolution were televised; the nation could tune in, popcorn in hand, to watch as these self-styled saviors of Britain struggle to button their trousers.One can't help but marvel at the sheer audacity. These are the people who claim to protect British values, yet they can't seem to walk past a Greggs without succumbing to the lure of a hot, buttery pastry. Perhaps they're just misunderstood; maybe their entire movement is just an elaborate ploy to protest the lack of gluten-free options. It's not xenophobia—it's dietary distress!Their rallies, if you can call them that, are less a show of force and more a parade of poor life choices. The aftermath often resembles the aftermath of a particularly rowdy office Christmas party—except instead of photocopied body parts and bad karaoke, you're left with a trail of discarded pastry wrappers and the faint smell of indigestion.And so, as Britain watched these "patriots" huff and puff their way through the streets, one thing became clear: the far right isn't just dangerous, it's also delightfully absurd. They may talk big, but their actions—particularly the ones involving baked goods—speak louder than words. In the end, it turns out that the greatest threat to Britain's far-right isn't immigration or multiculturalism; it's a well-stocked Greggs and the rising threat of heart disease.Music:The Loving Spoonful - Summer in the CityThree Dog Night - Joy to the WorldSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 156Swapping Zushi's Sun for Bradford's Clouds: A Tale of Two CitiesAs the summer sun beams down on the golden sands of Zushi, Japan, I find myself in a bittersweet state. Zushi, with its shimmering sea and vibrant beach life, is my haven. Every summer, the beach transforms into a lively playground where locals and tourists alike bask in the sun, indulge in water sports, and enjoy the relaxed, seaside atmosphere. Yet, this year, I must leave this paradise behind for the sake of family and friends. My destination? Bradford, UK—a city known more for its industrial history than its holiday appeal.The thought of trading Zushi's idyllic beaches for Bradford's concrete jungle feels like a cruel twist of fate. Here in Zushi, the sea is a comforting constant, its waves gently lapping at the shore, creating a soothing soundtrack to my summer days. The vibrant blue waters invite swimmers, surfers, and paddleboarders, while the soft sands provide the perfect spot for sunbathing and beach volleyball. The scent of saltwater and sunscreen fills the air, and the days are long and lazy, filled with laughter and the simple pleasures of seaside living.In contrast, Bradford is a stark departure from this seaside utopia. Nestled in West Yorkshire, it is a city defined by its industrial past. The old mills and factories tell a story of a bygone era, and while there's a certain charm to its gritty, urban landscape, it's not exactly what one envisions when dreaming of a summer holiday. The weather, too, is a far cry from Zushi's sun-soaked days. Grey skies and drizzle are more common than sunshine, and the closest thing to a beach is likely a pebbled riverside.However, what Bradford lacks in coastal charm, it makes up for in the warmth of its people. My family and friends are the heart and soul of my connection to this city. Every summer, I make the pilgrimage to Bradford to reconnect with loved ones. The embrace of family, the familiar laughter, and the shared stories create a different kind of warmth, one that no amount of sunshine can replace.In Bradford, I trade beach parties for barbecues in backyards, and seaside strolls for walks in lush, green parks. The city is home to a rich cultural tapestry, and I find joy in exploring its vibrant arts scene, sampling delicious curries on the famous Curry Mile, and visiting historical landmarks like the National Science and Media Museum. There's a sense of community in Bradford that's hard to find anywhere else, and despite its urban setting, the nearby Yorkshire Dales offer a taste of nature's beauty, albeit a different kind from Zushi's sandy shores.Yet, I can't help but feel a pang of longing for Zushi's beach life. The contrast is stark, and as I pack my bags, I dream of the sea breeze and the warm sands. But I remind myself that this sacrifice is worth it. The bonds of family and friendship are powerful, and sometimes, the best memories are made not in the perfect settings, but in the company of those we hold dear.So, as I prepare to bid farewell to Zushi's sun-drenched shores and embrace the overcast skies of Bradford, I do so with a mix of reluctance and anticipation. I'll miss the sea, the sand, and the endless summer days, but I look forward to the hugs, the laughter, and the shared moments with family and friends. After all, holidays are not just about the destination, but about the people we share them with. And while Bradford might not be everyone's idea of a summer getaway, for me, it's a reminder that home is where the heart is, even if it means trading a beach for a bit of rain.Music:Dodgy - Staying Out For The SummerOcean Colour Scene - Traveler's TaleSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 155Once upon a time, in the not-so-distant past of 2020, a quaint little Facebook group dedicated to cycling enthusiasts was enjoying its glory days. It was a haven for discussions about the best bike trails, gear reviews, and sharing the sheer joy of cycling. But then, like a derailleur going haywire, things took an unexpected turn.It all started innocuously enough with a post about bike lane safety. But before anyone could say "Schwinn," the comments section exploded into a battleground of pronouns. Suddenly, the group wasn't just about cycling anymore; it had become a crucible for debates about gender identity, preferred pronouns, and the perceived sins of cis-normativity. The once harmonious cycling group had morphed into what could only be described as a Pronoun Dystopia.Cyclists who just wanted to discuss the merits of carbon vs. aluminum frames found themselves navigating a labyrinth of linguistic landmines. Every post required a preface: "Before I share my thoughts on the best pedals for mountain biking, let me first state my pronouns are they/them." Even the bots that moderated the group seemed confused, occasionally chiming in with their own preferred pronouns.The tipping point came when someone innocently posted a picture of their new bike. What should have been a simple "Nice ride!" thread turned into an 800-comment debate on the ethics of gendering inanimate objects. "Is your bike a 'he' or a 'she'?" one member inquired. "Why does it matter?" another retorted. "Bikes have no gender!" proclaimed a third. Meanwhile, the poor bike owner just wanted to know if anyone had tips for adjusting the seat height.By 2022, many of the original members had fled to quieter pastures, creating offshoot groups where the focus remained squarely on cycling. But like all trends, the Pronoun Dystopia began to wane. People started to realize that while pronouns are important, perhaps a Facebook group about cycling wasn't the best place for these debates.Fast forward to 2024, and there's a palpable sense of normality creeping back in. The great pronoun debates have largely subsided, replaced once more with discussions about the best biking routes, upcoming cycling events, and the eternal debate of road bikes vs. mountain bikes. It's as if the group collectively exhaled and decided that maybe, just maybe, they could focus on their shared love of cycling without getting bogged down in identity politics.There's a newfound balance in the group now. Discussions are respectful, and while pronouns are still respected and acknowledged, they're not the central topic of every conversation. It's a refreshing change, like the wind in your hair as you coast down a hill on a sunny day.In the end, the cycling Facebook group weathered the storm of the Pronoun Dystopia and emerged stronger. Members learned a lot about each other, about respect, and about the importance of focusing on common interests. So here's to 2024, a year where we can finally get back to what really matters: the joy of cycling, the thrill of the open road, and the never-ending quest for the perfect bike seat.Music:Buffalo Springfield - For What it's WorthThe Drifters - Up on the RoofSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 154England. The country that gave the world the beautiful game, only to continually break our hearts with it. Supporting the England football team is like riding an emotional rollercoaster that's perpetually stuck in a loop of thrilling climbs and devastating drops. It's an exercise in both loyalty and masochism, and the recent Euro final against Spain was no exception.There we were, once again, donning our Three Lions jerseys, our faces painted with the St. George's cross, and our hearts full of hope. The anticipation was palpable. Could this be the year? Could we finally bring football home? Spoiler alert: No. Football has its bags permanently packed for Spain, it seems.As the game kicked off, there was a collective roar from living rooms and pubs across the nation. We were ready, our spirits high and our faith unshakable. Fast forward to the second half, and there we were, watching Cole Palmer equalize. "Here we go again," we thought, "this is it, the comeback kings are back." But then, in typical England fashion, we conceded late, and our dreams were dashed once more.The post-match scenes were as predictable as the plot of a soap opera. Grown men in Gareth Southgate waistcoats crying into their pints, kids asking their parents why football hates England, and everyone else wondering why we put ourselves through this emotional wringer every couple of years. Being an England supporter is energy-sapping work, akin to running a marathon with lead boots on.We invented this game, for crying out loud! The irony is rich. It's like we're the chefs who created a Michelin-starred dish but keep burning it in our own kitchen. Other nations must look at us with a mix of sympathy and amusement, much like you'd watch someone who insists on assembling IKEA furniture without the instructions.Every tournament, we dust off our flags, dig out our vintage '66 World Cup jerseys, and declare that this is our year. We put our hopes and dreams into players who promise much but deliver heartbreak. Harry Kane, our noble captain, might as well be called the Duke of Disappointment at this point. It's not his fault, of course. The lad does his best, but it's hard to lead a charge when the universe seems to have a vendetta against your team.And then there's Gareth Southgate, the man with the plan, the waistcoat-wearing wonder who has restored our faith and then shattered it with the same devastating efficiency. He's the dad who promises a trip to Disneyland but takes you to the local funfair instead. We love him, we hate him, we want him to stay, and we want him to go. It's complicated, like any long-term relationship.So why do we keep coming back for more? Why do we subject ourselves to this endless cycle of hope and despair? Because we're England fans, that's why. It's in our DNA to believe that one day, somehow, we'll get it right. That the stars will align, the gods of football will smile upon us, and we'll finally win that elusive trophy.Until then, we'll keep cheering, keep believing, and keep getting our hearts broken. We'll toast to the highs, cry through the lows, and come back for more. Because that's what it means to be an England supporter. And who knows? Maybe next time, football really will come home. Or maybe not. Either way, we'll be there, waving our flags and daring to dream.Music:Shirley Bassey - History RepeatingThe Jam - A Town Called MaliceSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 153Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed listeners of our humble podcast, it's time for me to eat a slice of humble pie. Or, in this case, a whole bakery's worth. I've been banging on for weeks about how England didn't stand a chance in the Euros. I mean, I've been more negative than a grumpy cat in a rainstorm. And now, here I am, being made to eat my words by none other than Ollie Watkins, who's just fired England into the final.Ollie, mate, I owe you a pint, a pizza, and possibly my firstborn. Seriously, folks, I was convinced England's chances were as dead as my nan's social life. But, Ollie Watkins decided to take my skepticism, wrap it in a nice package, and kick it straight into the back of the net.Let's get real for a second. I was more certain of England losing than I am about gravity keeping my beer on the ground. I was out here saying things like “England? Win? Yeah, and pigs might fly.” Turns out, the only thing flying was Watkins' shot into the goal. I've been more wrong than a man showing up to a nudist beach in a three-piece suit.So, here I am, hat in hand, eating crow, and any other idioms that describe the glorious sensation of being utterly and completely wrong. Ollie Watkins, if you're listening, I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. Actually, probably more because I'm not enjoying this at all. I'm a comedian, not a bloody psychic.To my loyal listeners, I apologize for my negativity. Clearly, my crystal ball was cracked, and my tarot cards were drunk. I'll try to be more optimistic moving forward, but no promises. I've still got trust issues from all those missed penalties in the past. But hey, if England brings it home, I'll happily eat my words again. And this time, I'll wash them down with a pint of victory ale.Here's to hoping the final is as fantastic as Ollie Watkins making me look like a complete idiot. Cheers, folks!Music:Primal Scream - Moving on UpPulp - Do you Remember the First Time4oSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 152Why, oh why, do I do this to myself? Here I am, a 53-year-old man, dragging myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 4 AM in Japan, all to watch England play football. Yes, England. The team that insists on playing with my heartstrings like a cat with a ball of yarn.So there I am, half-asleep, barely conscious, clutching my mug of coffee like it's a lifeline. The Euros are on, and it's England versus Switzerland in Germany. Penalties. Again. My nerves are shot. We win, but it's like watching a drunk tightrope walker: thrilling, terrifying, and you're just glad they didn't fall.Next up, Holland. Great. More anxiety. I swear, watching England play is like having a second job that pays in heart palpitations and grey hairs. But then there's Saka. That lad. He steps up and scores his penalty, shoving it right up the arses of those racist idiots who abused him online three years ago. Talk about sweet revenge! If I wasn't so tired, I'd have danced around my living room.But seriously, why do I put myself through this? The time difference is killing me. My internal clock is so messed up I wouldn't be surprised if I started sleepwalking. And the games! England are winning, but badly. It's like they're playing a game of "How can we make this look as difficult as possible?"I know, I know. I could just record the games and watch them at a reasonable hour. But where's the fun in that? Live football is like a live horror movie: you can't look away, even though you kind of want to.So here I am, anxiously waiting for the game against Holland. My brain's yelling, "Why are you doing this? Get some sleep!" But my heart's whispering, "Come on, you know you love it." And it's right. For all the stress and early mornings, there's nothing like the thrill of the game, even when it feels like it might just kill me.Besides, if Saka can face down his demons and shut up the racists, I can face a few early mornings and a bit of anxiety. Bring it on, Holland. Bring. It. On.Music:Take Me Out - Franz FerdinandFeel It Still - Portugal.The ManSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta

Episode 151Watching Joe Biden in the presidential debate was like watching your grandad try to operate an iPad for the first time—painful, confusing, and slightly concerning. There he was, the most powerful man in the world, fumbling around with his words like they were a set of keys he'd lost down the back of the sofa. You could almost hear the collective groan of a nation thinking, "This is the guy with the nuclear codes?" Biden's performance was a bit like that one uncle at Christmas dinner who insists on telling a story but keeps forgetting the punchline, so he starts over five times and somehow ends up talking about a completely different subject. At one point, he was so lost in his own sentence I half expected him to pull out a map and compass.There was that moment when he seemed to zone out completely, staring blankly into the camera like a deer caught in the headlights—or perhaps more accurately, like someone who just realized they left the oven on at home. It's one thing to forget where you left your car keys, but when you start losing track of basic points in a high-stakes debate, you can't help but wonder if he's also forgotten what day it is and who's meant to be picking him up after the debate.In the end, watching Biden debate is like watching someone juggle knives while riding a unicycle—you're not sure if you should be impressed or call for medical assistance. Either way, you can't look away, partly out of morbid curiosity and partly because you're desperately hoping he doesn't fall off and take us all down with him.England squeaking past Slovakia in the Euros was a spectacle that had all the suspense and drama of a toddler trying to navigate a stairway. It was one of those games where you could almost hear the collective sound of English fans' teeth grinding from across the channel.Jude Bellingham's wonder goal was an overhead kick that could only be described as pure football poetry. Imagine the grace of a ballerina combined with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker, all while defying the laws of physics. As he launched himself into the air, you'd think he was auditioning for a role in "The Matrix," dodging bullets and defenders alike. When the ball hit the back of the net, it was like watching a magic trick unfold—spectacular, unbelievable, and leaving you questioning reality.Then there was Harry Kane, England's knight in shining armor, coming through in extra time to seal the deal. Kane's goal was like that last-minute save you see in a disaster movie—just when you think all hope is lost, in comes our hero to save the day. You could almost see the relief on his face, a mix of "Thank God" and "Did I really just do that?" As he celebrated, you half expected him to pull out a cape and start flying around the pitch.But let's not kid ourselves; England didn't exactly waltz to victory. It was more like they stumbled and tripped their way there, with Slovakia putting up a fight that was more stubborn than a two-year-old refusing to eat vegetables. The whole match felt like a never-ending tug-of-war, with both teams refusing to let go of the rope.In the end, England's narrow escape was akin to watching a cat narrowly avoid disaster by landing on its feet—ungraceful but effective. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done. And as the final whistle blew, fans were left to breathe a collective sigh of relief, already dreading the next match where, no doubt, their nerves would be tested once again.Music:Hey,Joe - Jimi Hendrix Alive - Pearl JamSupport the Show.Insta@justpassingthroughpodcastContact:justpassingthroughpodcast@gmail.comArtwork @digitalnomadicart on Insta