Do you love me?
Soundtrack: Nick Cave and the Bad SeedsI caught up with the
Rainbow Child, an old colleague and pal, at lunch today- was great to see him after far too long. It got me thinking about friendship in general.
I know perfectly well that I'm not everyone's cup of tea. In my youth I worried terribly about not being liked. Thankfully, I grew out of that.
I'm loyal and I stick by my friends. However, sometimes you have to let people go when they overstep the mark. In the past 18 months or so I've had an interesting time with this. The minute you find yourself dreading seeing someone, ask yourself why you bother seeing them at all. Ask yourself, 'would my life be better/not discernibly different without this person in it?'.
At the extreme - if someone causes you pain or hurt , shut them out, and change the locks. I'd highly recommend this. And
don't look back - like Dylan in the movies.
One of my chiefest joys is seeing old pals and taking up the conversation just where we left off. This summer I plan to come out of my anti-social bunker and do this with a few folk around the country. Hooray!
All the gold that's in Fort Knox couldn't buy this happiness
Soundtrack: Pussy Galore, The Waitresses, The Go-Gos, Adam and the AntsWhat a fun-packed, late-night Saturday we had. Sadly, I was too drunk to take any photos at
Pandaman's do, but it was great to see him and his lovely missus, as well as the excellent
Marcoose. It had been far too long since I'd last seen these folk.
Here's an approximation of our set-list, in no particular order.
The Evolution Control Committee: Rebel without a Pause
Lori and the Chameleons: Touch (I love, I love, I love Japan)
Can: I Want More
The Fall: Hit the North
Dub Narcotic Disco Plate: Fuck Shit Up
The Droyds: Take Me I'm Yours
Will Powers: Kissing With Confidence
Cosmetique: Lady Di, Why did you have to die?
Noonday Underground: London
Link Wray: Jack the Ripper
The Sonics: Strychnine
The Haunted: 1-2-5
I didn't get a chance to play S-S-Single Bed by Fox, which was vexing - but as it was, our set over-ran, screwing up Marcoose's set (the zenith of which was Love Missile F1-11 by the mighty Sigue Sigue Sputnik).
From this we (foolishly) made our way over to the hinterlands of Kingston to attend a party hosted by the
Estimable Mr Perkins. It was too late, and we were already way too drunk to really enjoy ourselves, so we left within the hour.
On getting home I gave
JJ his birthday gifts: the best of which was a copy of Diamond Lights by Glen and Chris (AKA Hoddle and Waddle). I also managed to hunt down a copy of High Energy by Evelyn Thomas, one of our favourite dance records. It's an incredibly uplifting song.
On Sunday
Ms Robinson came over to escape the football. We ate sausage sandwiches and sponge cake, while studiously ignoring the England game. Which wasn't such a bad idea, because bugger all happened in it anyway.
One of these things first
I'm often surprised at what a lovely setting our flat is in. Which is a bit stupid - we've been there almost five years. But you know how it is - sometimes you look up and see something that has never struck you before, or perhaps you're looking at it from a different angle, and it suddenly catches you...
On Wednesday night I was watching the football and noticed the sun streaming through the kitchen windows. Not very exciting in itself; but the wind was shaking the boughs of the trees outside so much that it had a glitter-ball effect on the living room. The pic above doesn't quite do it justice. It was pretty mesmerising.
So, to the weekend. It's
JJ's birthday and we are DJing at
Pandaman's birthday do. Set list and pics to follow.
Oh, make me magnificent
Soundtrack: BlondieOh, oh my hair is beautiful.
Well, it's
enormous at the moment, as it always is when it's clean...As I've mentioned here before, I really like my hair to be dirty because it falls into ringlets. But it's satisfying to feel like I've
just stepped outta the salon.
If you know what I mean.
When the next mini-heatwave arrives, I'll probably be looking for an excuse to go all
Leslie Caron again though.
I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth
Soundtrack: The Who, PJ Harvey, Magazine
Just got back from a weekend with the family. I had a pretty good time all told, and caught up with a lot of people. I also visited my Dad's stone up at the cemetery, which I always find a difficult thing to do. Luckily I was in the company of the
Greatest Dog in the World (see left), whose persistent excitement about everything in the universe took my mind off things.
At
Sister Number 3 and
The Last Remaining Brother-in-law's Pearl Wedding anniversary party I heard the song
Dance Away by late-period Roxy Music. I was surprised at how poignant the song was. [I'm not even sure what made me remember this and note it here.] It's that line 'You're dressed to kill and guess who's dying?'. It's heinously unfashionable to say that you like Bryan Ferry, I know. But since when did that ever matter to me, eh?
I also helped my Mum run a coffee morning on Saturday. Now I know where my organisational skills come from. At one point I thought that the helpers would outnumber the attendees...however, the total raised was in excess of £400. Jolly good show.
You have to sleep late when you can
Soundtrack: Bad Days by Flaming LipsThe World Cup is here, it's sunny. I'm feeling bouyant for a change.
Obviously I haven't been posting here much. This is down to a number of things, but mainly to a) not really doing much and b) not having a spare minute to do this at work. In the evenings I get home and the last thing I want to do is look at a PC screen.
Recently I've been enjoying:
Broad beans from the allotment
Season 2 of Lost - seemingly getting weirder and scarier every week
Getting up and coming home in the sunlight
I was recently frustrated by:
Charles Hazlewood being indisposed on the day
this concert was due to happen. Man, I was looking forward to it...but I guess the refunded ticket money will be useful for buying beer for enjoying during
the greatest tournament in the world.
What would Copey do?
Soundtrack: Floored GeniusBusy, busy, busy. WWCD? This is a question that
JJ often asks me when we're at home, knowing the fondness I have for the
Arch-Drude.
Here's what he would do if he was late 80s Copey: he'd probably wear a turtle shell and perhaps construct an elaborate mike stand/seat. And then he'd have some kind of minor wig-out onstage. Nineties Copey would probably be considering some standing stones in the Outer Hebdrides and wearing some ill-judged orange trousers.
I'm caught between apathy and a simmering weirdness at the moment. Give me those summery, psychedelic sounds to get me through.
'Busy at home, I was happy for a while but the joke is over...'
