What do you think might be considered as The Holy Grail of desirable things to happen in a week?
Factor in, that the person doing the wishing is a fifty-something guitar flogger who, along with his good lady, plays choons for all who will listen.
Lastly (and this is a blue-chip clue), if you knew that the aforementioned Guitar Plonkist considered that his Racing Snake profile was under a degree of threat from an unaccountable spreading ‘neath the panty line.
Gotta be The Holy Grail.
So, this week, I did it bigtime. Three of your Earth Kg in four days.
I recommend the weight loss; but not the method.
Be Welcome, Gentle Reader and read on…
Influenza is a much misunderstood illness. Or at least, my capacity for pitiful moaning is not fully appreciated. This week, I have been able to indulge myself wholeheartedly, as nice Mr. Flu came calling last Sunday.
About 11.30 to be prezact.
I’d not long sent last week’s blog to Jesus when I thought, “Eyup, Ah feels reet funny”.
And so I did.
Exactly a week later I’m sitting again in the same place, just about recovered, but feeling slightly battered round the edges, and the preciously described 3Kg lighter.
Two cancelled gigs, several cancelled work appointments and much lying in bed later; let’s get on with it, shall we?
Work on the new CD has, as you might have expected, stalled. It is however, very, very close to completion, and should be ready sometime next week. It will be called ‘A String in the Tale’, and will feature seven tracks. Four new originals and our take on three traditional songs. All the songs feature somewhere in the new show.
Perhaps cynically, we’ve done it this way as we often get asked for the CD of the show folks have just seen. On the other hand, the idea is to sell ‘em and get the music out there so…
Just the artwork to do next and the mastering tweaks. I’ve been using Wavelab to master with, but oddly enough, Audacity with the Bootsy plug-ins (all free, oddly) do a sonically equal job, without the distractions of very colorful spectral analysis, which means as much to me as Humility means to Donald Trump.
You have to remember that my Degree is in Underwater Knitting(applied) from the University of Anne Diamond, so I have very little intellect with which to play; free stuff is fine.
It’s odd the tricks the mind plays as you lie, feebly moaning ‘pon your bed of pain.
Mine did this:
Never was a very large horse. Black as Midnight Below, and twice as silent. Beside him, steaming in the hours before dawn his companion Friend was also large, just less monumental.
The two faced each other, while their human fussers loaded their carts with more milk. The hours before dawn clacked each day to the sound of Never and Friend as they marched methodically up and down the dark streets. The two regarded themselves as occupying a position in the vanguard of the Co-op Milk Delivery System, and not as was actually the case, at the bluntest end of a Tesco Lasagne production run.
The two horses faced each other as the sky considered a change. In between the two, in the South Shields gutter lay, unaccountably, a Dulcimer.
Never could see that Friend wanted it. He knew she harboured ambitions. Ever since she’d heard of the Four Bunnies taking to the Folk Club stage, she wanted to do the same. She knew that there was an open evening down at The Doll, with that Dulcimer she could see herself, lumbering upstairs and taking to the stage and…
The sound of splintering wood, parting steel and breaking dreams announced the end of the instrument under the hoof of a very large Milk Van horsy.
Never looked away.
He really loved Friend.
I’m sure normal service will be resumed.
It’s just a question of when…
And so, as the Carthorse of Fate lumbers into the Folk Club of Fate, Chairman Dave welcomes it with open arms.
After all, a Dulcimer…
The kid might be good.
Until Next Time Acoustic Chums,
 I realize that isn’t fair. I left out Truth, Honesty, Integrity and Charm. But hasn’t he got nice hair?