Saturday, May 28, 2005

Copperhead Road

Thanks to Steve HERE I've now nailed Copperhead Road on Mandolin. I am quite pleased with myself. Steve sent me an mp3 of him and his mate playing it live on stage. I was impressed enough for it to inspire me to learn it. I don't play it exactly the same way but I think I've got the flavour just right. So Del and I could be playing Copperhead Road live one day, maybe even Monday night at our next gig. Which is the day after tomorrow. We're dining out tonight for Mikeys birthday, going cypriot. Luckily this year I'm not being forced to wear pink ladies undies, which totally traumatised me for months afterwards. So not much time for a rehearsal. What! Rehearsal? What am I thinking? Shame on me. We never rehearse. It's like a mantra we say to each other "No rehearsals". Keep it fresh, keep it immediate, keep that delicious frisson of terror that you're going to totally cock it up on the night. We did once. It was a Mike Da Hat and friends gig. We'd played all night and at 10:50 we ran out of songs on our set list. Bad planning. So being full of bravado and confidence I suggested we did a run through of "Hey Jude" knowing full well that every one loves the Na Na na Nanana nar singalong bit. Unfortunately we started in the wrong key and no one (read me) could sing it comfortably, so I'm struggling to sing Hey jude and in turns singing in a pathetic falsetto and then basso profundo and nothing in the middle. So the grand finale was a grand failure.

Last night I met the man who should not be named at the pub, who explained to me why he didn't want to be mentioned on my blog. "My life is already a cartoon." and I suppose he doesn't wants to end up in a cartoon graveyard. Each comedic episode posted for the world to see further emphasising the cartoon nature of his existence.

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Thursday, May 26, 2005

Rehearsals

Del and I have a gig on Monday this is how last nights rehearsal went.
45 minutes of misery watching Liverpool get absolutely trounced by AC Milan. They looked like a sunday league side up against the top team, totally outclassed. Then the second half where in shear disbelief we watched as Liverpool made an incredible comeback a completely different team came on in the second half. Then 30 minutes of extra time and 15 more minutes of penalties. meanwhile Charlie is sitting there with my Ovation "playing quietly" while we told him to shut the fuck up there's footy on't telly.
"So Del, what's the plan for Monday?" I ask after full time and the fists in the air and high fives etc.
"I'll Email you a set list."
"er........ok."
So that was our rehearsal. No going over songs with a fine toothed comb, no getting arrangements nailed. Nothing. But then why change the habits of a life time, we've never rehearsed before so why should now be different?
Meanwhile Charlie was in the zone playing a new song he'd written. We recorded it with him on guitar and vocals, Del on Bass and me on Mandolin. It was wasn't bad. Although Charlie kept begging me to let him rerecord his vocal track because he'd just thought of some more killer lyrics.In the end I had to kick him out but not before playing football in our carpark at one in the morning.
So that's how we rehearse in Rock and Roll land. I knew you'd be interested.

Meanwhile courtesy Petal, here's your sex tip of the day........
When buying a vibrator place the switched on model on the tip of your nose. If you sneeze that's the one you should buy. Well I don't know about you but that's certainly got me thinking ......... why would anyone want to stick a vibrator up their nose? Anyway should the occasion arise I'll know what to do. You see I know how to excite the girls. Being a Rock and Roll sex God with crowds of adoring fans throwing themselves at my feet and stripping off in front of me while I play guitar. Actually that's only happened once. We were playing at the Whistle Stop in Tallington and this lady of ample proportions felt the need to strip off in front of the band. There was a lot of jigglage on view. Oh dear and while I'm thinking of it memories keep coming back of all those cheers leaders dancing in front of us at the Exeter Arms being really sexy and doing cartwheels right in front of the stage. It's enough to put you right off your Eb diminished 5ths. How can you concentrate? But we were professional. ha ha. Played to the crowd. Life doesn't get much better.
Rock on dudes

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Monday, May 23, 2005

Tempting minors

That's it. I've had enough. It's time to shout from the roof tops, demand action and put a stop to this torment. This torture. This mindless, irritating phenomenom which is the crazy frog ring tone adverts. God! It drives me mad. I want to throw things at the tv when it comes on. That and those bleeding "cute" birds.
Text to 88888 and get three ring tones for £3. Then if you look very carefully at the small print it's not £3 it's £3 every week. By texting that number you are effectively subscribing to the ring tone club which charges £3 every week. That's £12 or £15 pounds a month. And who subscribes to this service? Kids.
Now tell me if I'm wrong but don't companies usually ask for your age before entering into a business contract. You must be over the age of at least 16 if not 18. But the phone company is making contracts every day with kids. Kids who don't understand or even care about responsibility of entering into a contract to pay £3 every week.
The ring tone company recently announced a profit of ten million on the frog ring tone alone. They are encouraging the kids to "join in the fun".
Let's see how much fun they have when someone sues them for extortion of a minor.
The MD of the company on TV blatantly said that they will not withdraw this service because not enough people have complained. Actually he said "not everyone is complaining". How many people does he want to complain before something is done about it?
Meanwhile this noise pollution continues to fill our ears and empty the pockets of unsuspecting children. Or more likely their parents pockets.

On the bright side one mobile phone company has brought out a new phone for technophobes and or old age pensioners. No gimmicks. No internet access, no camera, n0 WAP technology no multimedia features. Just send and receive calls and texts. The buttons are bigger and your phone number is on the screen, because as you know as you get older you cant remember your own number.
I might have to get one.

We've got a gig. Hoorah! Del and I are playing the Wheatsheaf in Peterborough next monday. The landlord is leaving so we're putting on a farewell do for him. Tony is coming and his band, so it's gonna be a mix and match night. No one has a clue what's going to happen. but as usual with Del, Tony and I we just blague it. No rehearsals. We just wing it. And I think that's what's going to happen next Monday and it will be great. I have great confidence in Del and Tony. I need to have because I organised the gig. I can honestly say the happiest days of my life, music wise, has been on stage with Del and Tony. We were good. We had such good fun. We never rehearsed, ever. And every week they'd throw a new song into the set that I'd never played before, sometimes more than one. It's a very steep learning curve when you get thrown in the deep end.
Sandra brought back my mandolin after six months. I've been playing it all weekend. She pointed out that Mondays gig is exactly a year since "Mike Da Hat and Friends" played their one and only gig, supported by the "TM blues band".
Del and I have spent the last few months recording. I'd like to say the results were brilliant. But we've had serious problems with sound quality. For instance we tried our version of "substitute" by The Who. My guitar was pretty good on lead. Dels Bass line was good too. But we had real problems with sound levels. And when I put down the vocal track. I almost died of embarrassment. Quiet then loud then quiet then loud. Appalling.

Wednesday we tried to do justice to Steve Earls "Copperhead Road". A brilliant track. All I will say about that was recording and a bottle of Metaxa doesn't mix well. But we had a lot of fun trying. I daren't listen to it right now.

Meanwhile my friend Richard has sacked his alcoholic guitarist. If you've paid attention you'll know who I mean. He's asked me to stand in so he can finish his album. I haven't a clue what he wants me to play. We'll see. MY main reason for agreeing to play for him is to learn more about the recording process and maybe find out what we're doing wrong.

So that's it for tonight playmates. Pick up a guitar and play it for all it's worth. It's great therapy. Pick out a rythm on your coffee mug with your pen. Feel the music within you. You can do it. Shit! If I can, so can you.

Rock on dudes

Mike Da Hat

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Monday, May 16, 2005

It's the Real Thing

COKE
1. In many states (in the USA) the highway patrol carries two gallons of Coke in the trunk to remove blood from the highway after a car accident.
2. You can put a T-bone steak in a bowl of coke and it will be gone in two days.
3. To clean a toilet: Pour a can of Coca-Cola into the toilet bowl and let the "real thing" sit for one hour, then flush clean. The citric acid in Coke removes stains from vitreous china.
4. To remove rust spots from chrome car bumpers: Rub the bumper with a rumpled-up piece of aluminum foil dipped in Coca-Cola.
5. To clean corrosion from car battery terminals: Pour a can of Coca-Cola over the terminals to bubble away the corrosion.
6. To loosen a rusted bolt: Applying a cloth soaked in Coca-Cola to the rusted bolt for several minutes.
7. To bake a moist ham: Empty a can of Coca-Cola into the baking pan, wrap the ham in aluminum foil, and bake. Thirty minutes before the ham is finished, remove the foil, allowing the drippings to mix with the Coke for a sumptuous brown gravy.
8. To remove grease from clothes: Empty a can of coke into a load of greasy clothes, add detergent, and run through a regular cycle. The Coca-Cola will help loosen grease stains. It will also clean road haze from your windshield.

FOR YOUR INFORMATION:
1. The active ingredient in Coke is phosphoric acid. Its pH is 2.8. It will dissolve a nail in about four days. Phosphoric acid also leaches calcium from bones and is a major contributor to the rising increase in osteoporosis.
2. To carry Coca-Cola syrup (the concentrate) the commercial truck must use the Hazardous Material place cards reserved for highly corrosive materials.
3. The distributors of coke have been using it to clean the engines of their trucks for about 20 years!

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Friday, May 13, 2005

The good news

Now the good news. Father seems to be making a miraculous recovery. Despite all the predictions of the doctors nurses and specialists. Yesterday he was up and walking about albiet with a zimmer frame. They are thinking of letting him go home soon if he continues to improve. So it seems all your prayers and best wishes have made their mark. Someone up there was listening. Thank you to everyone who sent there thoughts. I appreciate it more than you realise.
The bad news. The doctor said it's common for someone who is very ill to rally round a bit and appear to improve before they finally succumb.
Hey thanks Doc! We're hoping for the best and at the moment the birds are singing more tunefully than normal, there is a lightness in my step and I'm singing happy songs. All is well with the world.

Rock on dudes.

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Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Phone rage

Is it the frame of mind I'm in at the moment or is it affecting everyone. What am I talking about? Phone Rage.
You all know me by now, I'm always calm and I don't get flustered easily. I'm laid back and nothing upsets me. Nothing that is until I have a phone in my hand. I have found that the engaged tone on a phone drives me crazy. I want to thrown the phone through the window, smash the little fucker up into pieces, jump on it. I find myself gripping the handset with a vice like grip and saying to myself "Calm down one two three four....."
But that's only the tip of the iceberg.
"For the possibility of no one answering press one."
"To be completely ignored press two."
"To take a chance that the youth opportunity worker manning this line will stop playing solitaire on his PC and pick up the phone press three."
"To speak to someone who's day off it is press four."
"To be connected to an operator press zero."
Whoopeee! Press zero.
"Sorry the line is busy, please hold."
Fucking Henry the Eights Green sleeves comes on. It might have been cute in Tudor times played on the lute, but played electronically in a monotone it's bleedin irritating. So you wait getting madder and madder.
Ten minutes later and greensleeves is still plinking away in your ear and you are considering slitting your own wrists, suddenly "Goodbye!"
The bastards have cut you off.
So you phone back "Sorry all our lines are busy please try again later."
It's about time the people who deal with phone systems realise it's not "For your convenience" to have to deal with a fucking machine. I want to talk to a person because I don't know which button to press, none of the options apply to what I want to discuss.
And while I'm at it I am fed up with people phoning asking to speak to the person in charge of.... the phones..... the electricity supply.... or water rates.
If you're reading this ......
FUCK OFF! I'M NOT INTERESTED!
And I don't want someone from Dehli who can't speak English asking me about my pension plans.
FUCK OFF!
The person from Dehli is called Susan or Robert. Yeah right! I'm going to believe that one.
And the ones who start off "Just a courtesy call to see if......."
FUCK OFF!

There I feel much better now. Back to phoning people.....

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Monday, May 09, 2005

Slipping away

So my darling sister came to see us today in professional nursing mode. No emotion, shooting straight from the hip. Dads been pink slipped. That means theres a pink sheet in his notes to say no rescucitation if he has another attack. He's had an ECG, his heart is damaged beyond repair and the doctors are amazed it's working at all. But working in the smallest sense. It isn't pumping hard enough to even register a blood pressure on their normal meters. It's just a matter of time before it packs in altogether. He wants to go home. When he's awake he's quite lucid and together but that's getting less often as he's sleeping most of the time now. The thing is if he's sent home that's it. He comes off dialysis and it's a matter of days before he dies. Maximum 15 days. But in his condition more like five. When sis told me this I had a cold shiver straight down my spine. He will go home to die. No ifs buts or maybes. He will die. I want there to be hope. But there is none. He has told the doctors himself that he can't live with this quality of life. He wants to die now.
It tears me apart. Am I being selfish that I want my dad to live for just one more day? Am I being cruel to wish he stays alive despite the fact he can't do anything for himself? He hasn't the strength to sit up by himself anymore. We have to lean forward to hear what he says. His voice is so quiet. But he's still there telling me his words of wisdom. His mind is still there but the body is failing.

Tonight I told my children that their Grandad was dieing. Before I'd just told them he was ill. Gemma at university and Jamie at home. Gemma told me she didn't know what to say. I said "I don't know what to say either so it's OK."
"Jamie wanted to know if he should go and see his Grandad before he died."
Shit! That's a difficult question. I could tell he was scared of the prospect. So I said he should remember his Grandad as he was, not as he is now and not go and see him. I don't know if I said the right thing. Really I don't.
I am getting to the point where it's difficult for me to go and see him. It's too traumatic. I am not very good at this. I have had no practice. There are no lessons to tell you what to do or how to feel. So I play my guitar very loud and very hard. I sing my songs to dull the pain and tears run down my cheeks as I sing. You know my Dad has never heard me play. He has never been to a gig. He often asks me how the music is going, but has never asked me to play for him. He asks about Del and what we're doing now. The other day he told me he wished he'd paid for guitar lessons for me like my little brother had. I'm totally self taught.

I'm on the verge of tears most of the time now. But I have to keep going. I have a business to run. People who rely on me. I've got to keep it together.
Del came to see me tonight. We played pool. He has this ability to keep things normal at the same time as giving the right amount of sympathy and advice. We were laughing and joking and making up lyrics to imaginary songs. "Marshmallow in a penny slot" That was one of the crazy ideas we had. Then we were singing along to the TV video channel changing the words to things about Kebabs. He went home. My instinct was to go home with him and get absolutely paraletic. But that's not a good thing in real terms. I feel safe with Del. Of course he's a fat bastard. But then he's my best friend. So I don't care. To paraphrase the man himself I get twice as much friend for my money. He is in the process of writing a new unit for the course he is teaching. How to let children express their anger. Pretty soon I am going to be an expert in child welfare. He's going to give me the lecture. I know it's preparation for the real lecture, but it's interesting and that's another unit under my belt. I could end up with a degree in child welfare just by getting pissed with Del.

I've got to go to bed now. Morphius beckons me.

Rock on dudes

You may have noticed that there is no "iPod now playing" anymore. I haven't the heart. I can't do it right now. There is no music. It will return.

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Give it to me

We had a call from the hospital. Dad was fading fast he had just hours to live. So of course we dropped everything and rushed round to his bed side. He was laid there in his bed talking about our business and when he was coming home. There's some famous person who I can't recall who said the new of my death is premature. Something like that. But he's hanging on in there. The hospital told us he had contracted MRSA. Shit! That's serious. It nearly killed him last year. But today he's telling us it's nothing he had a chest infection and he's had the anti biotics, he's getting better.
I know he isn't going to live much longer. I know my Dad is going to leave me soon. Leave us soon. I've come to the stage where I think death is the kindest thing. He is a proud man. He hates not being able to do stuff. I don't want to lose him. He is my everything. But it's inevitable. I am torn. I want him to be healthy and still with us, but I know he wouldn't want to be incapable of even standing by himself. So do we let him go?

Shit! That's aweful. I could easily sound like I am callous and wishing him dead. But I really want my Dad to be with me forever. I don't want him to go. But at the same time I don't want him to suffer having to have bed baths and some nurse helping him onto a commode. I know he'd hate that.

I told him today I had so many questions I wanted to ask him. He just smiled and said "ask away." but I couldn't think of one question as my eyes filled up with tears. My questions seemed so trivial compared with his troubles. I guess my questions will have to be answered by myself. But Christ! I wish I had his point of view on them. And then he shut his eyes and fell asleep. He was so tired. He sleeps most of the day now. I grabbed his hand he didn't notice, or maybe he did. I don't touch my parents. I never have. I hate any physical contact with my parents. Does that make me wierd? When I was little I remember I didn't want to be hugged I didn't want to be kissed, I just wanted to be left alone with my lego to play in the corner. When my little brother was born I rejoiced because I was no longer the youngest, they could turn their attention to James and leave me alone.

But now my little brother is dead. Once again I am the youngest and I miss him so much. Perhaps it's because my Dad is dieing I feel so down. I don't want to be the baby of the family. Shit! I'm 46. I'm a musician. Rock and roll isn't like this. Today I sat on my stairs all by myself playing guitar. I was brilliant and there was no one to hear me. I wish Del was here. I was playing guitar and impressing myself I was note perfect. I played so many songs allm the way through. Not just snippets of songs but whole songs from start to finish.

The other day I went to visit Blind Dave. he is a much better guitarist than me but doesn't play live. He wanted to play my Ovation. So I took it along for him. He played stuff I could never imagine being able to do but only played snippets. He couldn't play a whole song to the end. That's the discipline of being a live performer. I am not that good. But at least I can get to the end of a song.

Without knowing it Del and Tony have taught me so much. 20 years ago I was in a folk rock band and I suffered incredible stage fright. I was throwing up before each gig. The leader of the band was a stickler for getting it right. He fucked me up big time. In the end I couldn't do it any more. Then I met Del. Del showed me that I could make mistakes and it didn't matter. Although once he threw me a terrible look on stage when I fucked up but it was only the once. Tony was out in the crowd with his radio Mike and I couldn't see him, he was doing what he is best at. Working the crowd. He signalled Del but I never saw it. So Del went into one and I was way behind. Still into a holding pattern.

You may have noticed with live bands that when someone goes into one, the band goes into a holding pattern. Playing the same chords over and over. Well I was in a holding pattern. Del saw the signal I didn't. So it got fucked up. I felt terrible. Del apologised later for getting angry with me.

Today the man who should not be named turned up at my gaff throwing stones at my window. He needed to use my phone to phone Di. Dels wife. He's just been to watch a football match with Mikey. Mikey needed entertaining while Di turned up. There was a scrap Vacuum cleaner in my yard. Mikey wanted to kick it. I said "Go ahead give it some stick"
So he kicked it. Not a lot happened. So then he picked up a stone and threw it at the vac. It bounced off. Jools said "Rock and roll"
So we devised more ways of destroying the vacuum cleaner.
Bricks were thrown at it.

Then we climbed on the roof of the shop. Me and Mikey and we threw the vacuum off the roof. It fell with a satifying crunch. So we did it again. Smash! Bit flew off it in all directions.
Just then Diane turned up with Cerrys the poppet. Six years old and wanting to get on the roof with Mikey. So Jools had to help her on top of the skip so I could reach down and hoist her up to the roof by her arms. She stood on the roof singing "King of the castle". Before I let her down by the arms back to the skip and into Jools arms.

I know Jools doesn't want me to mention his name in this blog but this is a nice mention. A mention that shows what a top man he is. He deserves credit for being a top man.

So my assistant manager has left her fuckwit fiancé. The potential inlaws have shown their credentials by demanding all money be paid back ASAP. Along with all the other abuse. I found out today he'd been engaged three times before. perhaps by now he's seen a pattern? Anyway my assistant managers own mother has demanded her money back as well. Can you believe that? her own mother. That defies belief. How can a mother be so insensitive? My assistant manager has said she has now written off her mother and she is never going to speak to her again. I don't blame her. I value her more than her own mother and tomorrow I am going to give her a cheque t0 cover her expenses, with the advice that she now puts all this behind her and goes and has a good time. Holidays are on the cards. Even if I have to pay for it myself I am determined my assistant manager has a holiday to remember. I don't need her down hearted. She is too valuable to me. Do you know how hard it is to get a good employee? I want to keep this girl.

As the boss of my business I am prepared to carry her for a while. I am giving her a lot of leaway. Days off? No problem. Time to get her head together? No problem. I can cope without her. It's going to be hard. But if I can keep my girl it will be worth it. She will come back bouncing. She doesn't have as much confidence in herself as I have with her. I can see a time when she takes over from me when I retire. But until than I want her to have a life, to have fun, to enjoy herself. She needs to grow up. Get a grip of life. To find out what she really wants.

I'm not sure many employers would take this attitude. But I have faith in this girl. She is special. She needs space right now and I'm prepared to give her that space and still pay her even if she is taking time off. If you met her you would love her. You would give her time as well. You would see her potential. One day she will take over my job and do a much better job than I ever could. But until than I have to teach her. Teach her about business, how things work. Just like my Dad gave me the chance and gave me the business to run. She will take over from me. It will be a few years down the line. But...................... Have you ever loved someone who is in no way connected with you? I could have left her to rot in her own making. I'm not religious. But she is special. She deserves more................

I don't know what you guys are going to comment on. There's so much. But comment away. Give it large. Tell me what you think. I need some input.

Rock on dudes

Mikel

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Friday, May 06, 2005

The fuckwit has gone

Yesterday my Assistant manager came in Bawling her eyes out, sobbing fit to bust. She's finally decided she can't marry her fuckwit boyfriend, her Chav in uniform.
This is the boy friend who after being away in the army for two months comes back on leave for a weekend, spends an hour with the girl then announces he going clubbing with his mates, and can she pick him up at two in the morning. Is he taking her? No!
This is a guy who has no tax on his car and is always making excuses blaming other people for him not having tax.
The guy who on seeing a policeman walk past makes obscene gestures to him and when challenged as to why the gesture replies "Coz you bastards are always arresting my bruvver." I wonder why?
Fuckwit is in Iraq.
Assistant manager phoned him last night at 8:00pm to tell him to take a hike.
At 8:20pm his mother sisters and the rest of the family were hammering on her front door screaming abuse.
Now I don't know about the rest of you but isn't the usual or preferred reaction to come round for a quiet chat and see what's wrong, see if she's just suffering from pre-wedding nerves see if there's anything they can do to reassure her? NO they come storming round in force and hammer on the door and scream abuse through the letter box.
So if she was just unsure and a little nervous before she sure as hell aint now. She is convinced she doesn't want to marry into that family. They have shown themselves to be total scum. They don't deserve my Princess of an assistant manager. She's had a lucky escape.
As Petal pointed out to her while giving her a hug, "you don't want to end up bare foot and pregnant in the kitchen a million miles from home."
Petal was round here a lot yesterday on Hugging detail. Did a fabulous job at least it stopped me from getting a soaked shirt with the tears.
So we're all going to her and doing the "There there it'll be alright" routine and then going round the back to cheer loudly and do high fives because she's finally dumped the fuckwit.
I don't know when I've been happier. Was it when she told me she'd dumped him or when I bought my Ovation guitar? It's a close call.

Del on the other hand is gutted. He's just realised that he's playing a gig about the time his Beloved Arsenal are playing Liverpool on Sunday. I think a portable TV strapped to the back of a speaker is called for with the sound turned down. He can play bass and watch the footie at the same time. He can do that. He could play bass with his eyes shut whilst delivering a lecture on the rise and fall of the Russian Tzars.

Rock on Dudes

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Quit complaining about your job #6


So you're poolside chilling and this bloody great Killer shark turns up flips over on it's back and in fish talk says "Check this out baby!" Well someones got to check the equipment. Did you know the Right Whale has testicles the size of cars each one weighing in at one ton? And a Dick the length of a double decker bus. And a goat can shag a whole flock of lady goats without resting inbetween each. Now that's what I call a talent. And the female praying mantis devours her lover from the head down whilst he's still giving it large in the shagging department. It brings a new meaning to the phrase "I'm a virgin be gentle with me." This is the last in the series of "quit complaining about your job" Hope you've enjoyed them. Posted by Hello

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Wednesday, May 04, 2005

and the blind shall see.......

I have a musician friend, David. He's blind. The interesting thing is although he can't see he is very aware of his surroundings, we were walking down the road and HE says to ME "Mind that bush."
"What? How the hell did you know that?"
"I could see it."
"David! Hello! You're blind."
"Yeah but this is a different way of seeing....." and he explained to me how he sees. It goes like this..............

Imagine you've been blindfolded and taken into a room, if the room is completely empty you will hear the echo of your footsteps. From that echo you can just about imagine how big the room is. If it's a fully furnished room the echo will be seriously muffled and you can judge by that too. So without even realising it you've already got some sort of blindfolded vision. Now take that a few stages further. You are outside and you've got traffic noise and your own footsteps and voices all echoing around you, by moving your head you can zone in on various sounds. David tells me he can tell the difference between a bush and a Mail box by it's sound.
Completely bleedin amazing.
The only thing that worries me about his claim is that in the pub he can't tell which way the bar is when it's his round...... Hmmmmm!

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Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Quit complaining about your job #5


Now here's someone really enjoying her job. It's the body language that gives it away. She works for an up market Garden centre that sells quality rose fertiliser to the rich and famous. In her spare time she wanders the rain forest looking for monkey poop from which, with her bare hands, she extracts the partialy digested coffee beans, that are then graded and roasted to make Monkey poop coffee at a thousand quid a cup. Hey! Someones got to do it. So get back to your lovely desk job and be thankful. Posted by Hello

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