Quit complaining about your job #4

I love this picture, but this is not a job I'd want to be doing. I don't suffer vertigo and I'm not scared of heights. But even so ... yikes! This is high. The words terminal and velocity spring to mind. Oh yeah and Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Quit complaining about your job #3

I'm sure this is another setup picture. The expression of the guy on the right gives it away. He's posing. But we've all been there. Done that. Been on a flight sitting next to that huge guy who takes up all his seat and half yours. Or in the cinema when you can't even use your own armest because he's spilt out all over it so you're sitting there trying to enjoy a film whilst being squidged. No! No! No! No!

My Dad #3

Well you wouldn't believe it. The Doctors said he was done for. The nurses told us to prepare for the worst, he wouldn't survive the night. We were all in tears. But you know he pulled through. So many people offered up prayers and someone somewhere listened, because he's made a miraculous recovery. MY dad has had two sessions of dialysis and although he's still weak from his heart attack mentally he is as sharp as ever. I can't believe that just two days ago the Doctor told us he was done for and now he's sparkling as if nothing had happened.
He can't remember a thing. He doesn't remember his heart attack he doesn't remember all the daft things he was saying that made us laugh. To him it's like it never happened, and he can't understand what all the fuss is about. He feels great and wants to come home.

The funny thing is when I thought he was dieing I had a million questions I wanted to ask him. I wanted his opinion on all sorts of things. I've spent the last few years taking it for granted that he will be there and my questions could wait until tomorrow. But when he is here the questions aren't. We just live our lives and we chat of course, but I never ask the questions I want answering, it seems too much to start asking loads of questions just in case he dies . So I don't know if I'll ever have all my questions answered. I have a hundred different questions, tomorrow there'll be a hundred different questions. the day after a hundred more. I guess one day I'll have to answer them for myself. Maybe my children will want to ask me questions and so it goes on. My boy Jamie asks me a hundred questions every time we're together. Perhaps he's got the right idea. I wont be here forever. Just as the sand is falling from my fathers clock. We all want to live forever.

There's a jewish joke about being a parent. "I want to live to see my children grow up get married and live a long life. Then when they've had a full life I can go myself. I don't have to worry about them anymore."

What can I say? Thank you. Thank you for your messages of support and good wishes. Thank you for your prayers. It meant a lot to me. When I was in my darkest hour I knew there were people thinking and praying.

To finish here's a last thing. Before I knew my father was on the mend I was really upset. How embarrassing can it be when you burst into tears in front of your customers? It happened this morning. I was being brave. OK I was trying to be brave. Before I opened the shop I went to the flower shop just to say "hello". I cried. I got a hug and got sent back to work. In a nice way. Then the first customers came in. I couldn't control the tears. I'm apologising like mad between sobs. Yeah I'm a rock star but even rock stars have emotions.

Rock on Dudes

Quit complaining about your job #2

This is not a job I would want. Although I wonder if this is a real situation. There's shops behind the guy and an air conditioning unit on the wall. It could be a set up. Who sends me this stuff? Actually it's a guy called Les who I've know for many years. He sold his little house in London and bought a huge house in Thailand and is now living very nicely thank you on the difference. I'll let you be the judge as to whether this is a set up of not.

My dad #2

Thank you all for your kind comments. Dad is stable now. He is confused he is telling the nurses that Mother is visiting my little brother, James, in Scotland. Which is great except my little brother died four years ago. He can't remember a thing that has happened to him. He doesn't remember Mother coming to see him. He was going to discharge himself but the nurse told him "You haven't even the strength to lift a pen never mind get up and walk out."
He said "Haven't I? You're right I am a bit tired I'll have a sleep and go home this afternoon."
He has three tubes into his neck and more in his arms. Then there's the sensors stuck to his chest. I've never seen so many wires and tubes stuck in and on one person. He's getting his moneys worth for all the times he's paid his national insurance.
He made me laugh. he said to me "Mike give me a pull up."
"Why?" Thinking he was just uncomfortable.
"I'm going home now."
"No you're not."
"Why not?"
"Because you've had a massive heart attack and you're very weak."
"Am I?"
"Yes Dad."
"I must admit I'm a little tired right now. OK I'd better have a sleep and I'll go home this afternoon. Where's your mother?"
"She was just here two minutes ago."
"Was she? Isn't she in Scotland visiting James?"
"No dad she's in the waiting room with Chris."
"Well tell her to go home and put the kettle on. I'll be there soon."
He's very confused right now.
I'm all cried out now. I can't cry anymore. I've passed a point. I don't know what that point was. It's not that I don't care anymore. I do. But I cried so much over the weekend. That it's out of my system.
Now I am strong again. I have had so many messages of support thatit's given me strength.

Del though he wont believe it has been my rock. Saturday night when I was at my worst I went round to Dels house. I just sat there while he kept talking about anything. It didn't matter what. I just sat there listening to him. It went in one ear and out the other, but he kept on talking to me.
At one point I remember him asking me if I wanted to do something like play guitar or try and record a song. I didn't. I didn't want to do anything I just wanted to sit there listening to him talk. I felt safe and secure as long as Del kept talking. It would have been aweful if he'd stopped. But he didn't. He kept it normal for me, talking about any thing and everything. He never stopped talking. I don't know if it was instinct or what. But he seemed to know..............
Del has his faults just like anyone. But I couldn't ask for a better friend.

I run the family business. I have done so for the last ten years. My father has never officially retired so I've run it with him in the background. I make all the decisions now. Any major decisions I refer to Dad who invariably agrees with me. The stupid thing is I am now the youngest of the family and everyone looks to me to sort things out. I have an older brother who works for me and an older sister. I've always been cool with that until now. Why can't my older brother and sister look after me for a while? Why do I have to make all the decisions? Why do I have to be strong? When I'm falling apart at the seams. Where is Helene when I need her? I'm not going to cry anymore, but I need some slack right now. I need my Helene.
She's gone from me now. Gone back to her fuckwit husband who she hates.

God I feel angry right now. I'm angry my Dad had a heart attack. I'm angry he can't remember a thing. I'm angry that I am helpless and I can't do a thing about it. I'm angry that I'm the youngest and have to be the strongest. I'm angry that Helene fucked off and dumped me when I needed her most. I'm angry that I'm angry.

But I have you guys. I have Del. I have Diane. I have you. You will keep me sane. Del will keep on chatting to me and Diane will give me hugs. You will give me your thoughts. Petal will be realistic and tell me to pull myself together. I will flounder meanwhile for a while until I get my shit together.


There is no iPod tonight so nothing is playing. And I don't know why it's all gone italicised. I don't give a shit.

Mikel

My Dad

My father had a massive heart attack yesterday. Luckily he was in Hospital at the time on dialysis. My sister was on duty on the dialysis ward as well. So they had to drag her off to let some one with more objectivity try and save his life. They managed to bring him back but he was in a bad way. A very bad way. I was called and I shut the shop to dash over to the hospital. I arrived to find father unconscious but in convulsions thrashing and bucking about the bed due to oxygen starvation.
The doctors told us it was all over and it was only a matter of time before he died. We prepared for the worst. They were pumping him full of morphine to stop him flayling and thrashing. That was traumatic for me I just cried my eyes out and fell into my sisters arms. Who by this time had gone back into professional nurse mode.
They were just about to read the last rites. The doctor had agreed with my sister that if he had another attack they weren't going to even try to revive him. He was too far gone. My mother was on holiday with my cousin in Majorca and they were back very late last night. We couldn't tell them because they had to drive all the way from Gatwick airport. So we thought it was kinder to let them get home before we gave them the devastating news, rather than let them drive in tears all the way back.
Father continued with the convulsions. That was the worst thing. It reminded me of a cat I saw when I was 8 years old in Cyprus, that had been hit by a car at high speed. It convulsed for several minutes. John our neighbour shouted to me to get a kitchen knife to put it out of it's misery. Without thinking I ran to our house and got a fucking huge kitchen knife and ran back, I gave it to John and he sat by the side of the road with the knife in his hand weeping, he couldn't do it. The cat pulsated some more then fell still. It was dead. I thought about that with my dad.
Then with Mother and Me and my cousin standing next to his bed he fell silent. He wasn't dead. The morphine had kicked in and he was asleep. We kept vigil by his bedside for hours until for me three in the morning and for my mother four in the morning.
I was absolutley exhausted, dead on my knees. I got home had a whiskey and went to bed I couldn't keep my eyes open. But as soon as my head hit the pillow I was wide awake. Funny that. I couldn't have been more tired but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned for hours finally falling asleep seconds before I woke up again at 10.

I rushed to the hospital to the intensive care unit to find the screens round his bed and the nurse talking to father. What? He's supposed to be dead. In a coma even.
Mother and my sister and cousin turned up. We waited until we were called.
Two by two we went to see him.
"Mike give me a lift up." whispered my father.
"What for?"
"I want to go home now."
"You can't you've had a massive heart attack."
"Have I?"
"But I'm OK."
"No you're not. You are very ill."
"I feel tired."
"Well just rest then."
"Can I go home? I want to go home."
The nurse came over "You can't go home there's no one to look after you at home."
He points to my sister "I have my own personal nurse."
"Don't be silly dad." says my sister.
"I want to go home now." says my dad. "I'll bloody well discharge myself."
The nurse patiently said "You haven't the strength to lift a pen to sign the forms."
"Haven't I?"
"No."
"Oh! ......... When can I go home then?"
"In a few days time."
"A few days? I want to go home now." and he tries to get up but doesn't even manage to get his head off the pillow. I can see he's trying. He swings a leg off the bed. That's all he can manage. The nurse puts it back.

We take it in turns to be by his bedside until it's obvious he's so tired he needs to sleep some more.

Rosemarie is there, the friend from Cyprus whose husband is John (with the cat) I ask Rosemarie "Where's John?"
"John can't cope with hospitals. he hates to see anyone suffering."
I know that. We all laugh. It's funny that we all laugh despite the seriousness of the situation.

I was dashing to the hospital and seeing all the people wandering about do their own thing smiling and laughing and thinking "They wouldn't be smiling and laughing if they knew my dad was dieing. How dare they?"
But then I thought there are times when I'm having a great time and someone somewhere is in great pain. It didn't seem real though. I am in the depths of despair and everyone around me is laughing and smiling.

Father is still not out of the woods yet. He needs dialysis urgently but there's no beds free. He is like a child in his bed. When once I was a child in his arms, he is like a child in mine. When once he was strong for me and my idol, now I have to find the strength in me to be strong for him. It's not easy. There are no evening classes available to prepare yourself for this. For many years he has been my safety net while I trapeze through life. I haven't needed that net for many years now but it's always been there, giving me confidence.

Its inevitable he is going to die. Just like it's inevitable I will die. But it doesn't have to be today does it? Just one more day......please. I don't want to lose my dad.

Quit complaining about your job #1

So you hate your job? Today starts a series of photos that's gonna make you really appreciate how lucky you are to have that crap job that you hate so much. Just remember there's always someone worse off than you. I Know a lot of you complain about your pokey little broom cupboard of an office. How about working here? They treat animals better. Or you'd hope so.............More amazing work related photos to follow.

Then he went an' got busted

Some of you may recall a while back I mentioned a shop very near here that sold or rather didn't sell Afro-carribean produce. Well as a recap they have on display all this produce but no one buys it. It's the same stuff everyweek until it rots in the baskets. It is in fact a front for a drug dealing operation. Last night the police turned up and raided the place. The owner was taken down the road well away from the shop and "interviewed" whilst other policemen ran in and out of the shop. It was all good fun and Del and I were leaning out of my flat window watching it all go down. Some much for recording our new single "Lions ate my sister" * we were too busy hanging out the window.
So we went back to recording laying down a drum track when we heard voices outside.
"Have you been drinking?" and "How much have you drunk?"
So it was down guitars again and leaning out the window to witness the police pinning this guy up against my front door. He was a bit wibbly.
"Now I'm going to ask you to blow into this one one long breath no stopping. Do you understand?"
"yesh"
So the policeman puts the tube to the guys mouth and the guy sucks.
"Now what did I tell you? If you don't do this properly I will arrest you for failing to take a breath test when asked by a police officer."
"but I just want to tell you something......."
"you can tell us after you taken the test."
"But I don't need to take a test I haven't ben drinking that's all."
"So you won't be worried about breathing into this tube then?"
He breathes into the tube. Del and I are still hanging out of my window right above their heads.
The police man goes on "...if this light comes on you will have failed the test......."
Del and I craned out to look for the light on the machine that was being held up in front of the perp. It lit. "Yeah!"
The policeman looks up and see's us grinning ear to ear. He is not amused. We'd both fail a breathalyser, but then we're not driving are we? Our cars are safely locked up.
He looks back to the "I arrest you for being drunk in change of a vehicle anything you say etc" and he slung the guy into a cage in the back of the police van.
"he wont be back home before morning." says Del who is grinning so hard I begin to wonder if he's got a flip top head.
The police leave and two minutes later Charlie is banging on the door. He's stoned already, he's standing on my doorstep swaying "Mike do I want a cup of tea or do I want another beer?"
"I don't know. What do you want?"
"Fuck it! I'll have a beer." He comes in and zones in on Dels Telecaster which is plugged into my effects pedal and he's away, massive distortion and enough noise to wake the dead which is great because there's a cemetary just across the road.
We record a couple more of his songs but they're not great, he's too stoned to get it right.
This morning Petal came to see me. "The drug bust last night wasn't."
"How do you know?"
"I've just been speaking to him. The police came round because they suspected his son had broken a window."
Well that's his story. I can't think a broken window merits a full scale police raid. So we'll be watching the local papers very closely from now on.
He certainly isn't going to admit he's been collared by the old bill is he?

* The new single is going to have a tribal feel, though I don't quite know how I'm going to fit the hollowed out tree trunk into my recording studio for the rythm section. Del has this idea of a sort of hip hop disco feel to it running along side the relentless tribal beat with a few whoa whoas thrown in. The song is about how Lions ate my sister while she was fetching water from the well in Eastern Zaire, except there's a parrallel with Lions as in a rugby team eating my sister because she's a bit of a slapper. Not my real sister you understand she's a real cutie and very proper, no she would not let a whole rugby team eat her well not all at once. This is the hyperthetical sister. Anyway it's far too deep for the likes of you. I'm an artist and you don't understand. Why the hell do I bother? My talent is wasted.

So this is what's going down in the every day life of this every day Rock star.

Rock on Dudes

iPod now playing - Signs by Charlie

Tattoos 4 U

So I'm opening up the ol' emporium and Petal calls me over (read Biker Chick) "I've got something to show you" she says.
"What's that?"
"Oh come inside. I've got to strip off to show you."
See we go into her flower shop and out the back where she proceeds to strip off, down to her bra. "Well?"
"It's lovely....... but where's the tattoo?" I joked. It's a tattoo of a fairy flying across her back.
"I wasn't drunk either when I had it done. But I was when I did this and she rearranged her jeans to show me the cuts and bruises gained whilst falling down a pot hole. This is what a very large bottle of Red label Smirnoff does for you.

iPod now playing - War Pigs by Black Sabbath

New Single

Del and I have finally finished recording our new single. Based on lyrics supplied by my good friend Doctor Robert . It's pretty good. We've got drums and keyboard, Guitar and backing guitar, vocals and backing vocals. All we need to do is mix it down. Certain musical friends of ours suggested a gospel choir to sing the chorus. Where the hell am I going to find a gospel choir round here? Another friend mentioned a dodgy group of gospellers from the local baptist chapel but we're not sure. They're all from Lithuania on an Arts grant. Supposedly here on a fact finding mission and exchange of musical talent. But they are all working in the fields picking vegetables for gangmasters.
Anyway without the gospel singers led by the Reverend Hugh Janslipzin the song is pretty good. It's gonna be Heee-oww-ge.With the new system of popular music ratings we'll have a monster on our hands. Internet sales will go through the roof and massive air play on the radio. Then we're going to have to go on world tour. Madison Square Gardens, Che Stadium, Rome, Hamburg, Paris, Tokyo and of course the Fox and Hounds. But being as there's only me and Del we'll need a band. Ginger Baker Ex Cream isn't working right now so we could round him up to be the drummer. Bill Wyman should be free for Bass unless he's busy with his Rythm Kings.

Del has his bright red bandana all washed and ready to go on stage with along with his Hawaian shirt. My hat has just been in the washing machine on a gentle wash and the boots have been polished so we're ready rock.
The man who should not be named will come along as technical assistant and road crew. He may not be very tall but he's very useful. Although one of his conditions for going on the world tour is a private lear jet to get him back here every Saturday to watch his Beloved Ipswich play.

The fingers are heeling up nicely, and we're confident. We're thinking of getting Toots and the Maytals to support. Nice bit of reggae.

So watch out in the press for Delandahats world tour coming to a city near you soon. All we've got to do now is sell a few records.

Rock on dudes

iPod now playing - Drive in Saturday by David Bowie

Petal

Let me tell you about Petal. The flower shop girl who comments regularly. I bet you have a picture of some Kate Blanchett type who spends the day arranging flowers looking serene and lovely. Well she's nothing like that, apart from the lovely bit. She's a biker chick who's into heavy rock. She has a husband who could easily have been an extra in "Easy Rider". He drives a trike. Petal has a Trike as well. She can sing along with the best of them to Black Sabbath.
I can tell you all this safe and secure in the knowledge she won't be reading it as she's gone to a Bike Rally down south somewhere. Just before she went I said "I hope you have a good time. Tell me about it when you get back."
Her reply typically was "If I have a good time I wont remember a thing about it." and she left clutching a very large bottle of Smirnoff Red label.
Rock on Flower girl Dude.

iPod now playing - Hole in the sky by Black Sabbath

Half the size twice the fun?

Flipping 'eck there should be a health warning on some kids sweets. I was in the corner shop today and a little yellow tube caught my eye with a black thing poking out the top like a fuse, like a little stick of dynamite. Memories came flooding back to me and being as I have such SORE FINGERS right now I thought a little comfort food was called for. So I bought my first "Sherbert fountain" in God knows how many years.
Rip off the top strip of paper to reveal the cardboard tube and there lieing inside is a load of white sherbert. With your liquorice stick to dip into it.
Then I remembered you bit off the tip of the liquorice stick to make it into a liquorice straw. oh what fun!
So I'm sucking away at my liquorice straw and it gets blocked. Shouldn't have sucked the other end first and used it as a dipper. So I'm sucking like mad and suddenly dooofff a straw full of sherbert flies straight to the back of my throat and into my lungs. I cough violently. Straight into the opened tube of sherbert, there's blow back and I get a face full, in my eyes and up my nose and I'm coughing fit to bust. There's tears streaming down my cheaks and I can't speak. Customers walk in to find me apparently having a fit clinging onto the counter, my face white like I'm wearing Michael Jacksons make up.

So later I went to Tescos and noticed fun sized Mars bars and Fun sized Milky Ways. What's that all about? Where's the fun in a Mars bar that's one inch long? Everything is shrinking. I remember when Wagon Wheels were huge. You could survive a weeks route marching on one Wagon wheel and a Mars bar. Now they're tiny.
Further round Tescos I found fun sized apples. I mentioned it to Petal. She commented that in her youth the fun sized apples were the ones that weren't ripe and gave you tummy ache. They've got tiny fun sized bananas as well. What next?

I'll be with Jamie Lee Curtis one night we'll have watched the DVD shared a home delivered pizza with extra olives washed down with the bottle of fizzy wine and in an intimate moment when I drop the kecks, she'll burst into hysterical laughter and I'll say "But it's fun sized."

iPod now playing - You can talk to me by The Seahorses

Sympathy? I don't think so.

I'm not getting a lot of sympathy for my sore pinkies. Last night we were recording again. I was playing sound engineer. I've since lost part of my finger nail and it hurts. Yeah Yeah Yeah I'm a wimp and proud of it. I was the original model for the Mr Universe adverts I was that man who had sand kicked in his face. Wrestle poodles and win. Kick that sand right back in his face and get pulverised.
Anyway Delbert and Charlie came over. We were recording one of Charlies songs or more to the point trying to record a song. The problem was the jack plug fell out of the back of my Ovation. Luckily there's a round inspection hole at the back to get at it easily. The same thing happened to the hated one, but to repair that I've got to take the strings off. I can't be bothered right now.
The other problem was Charlie was absolutely stoned. The song 4 minutes 30 seconds. He'd manage to sing for 2 minutes before he fell apart.
Meanwhile my Zen master Delbert was explaining to me how I should embrace the pain in my fingers, rejoice in it. I should play the hated one more and then on stage the Ovation will be so easy.
So Charlie was building a tower out of empty beer cans on my coffee table in between takes, while Del sat at the keyboard waiting patiently for him to get his shit together and I'm at the controls saying "You ready Charlie?"
"For what?"
"To sing."
"Yeah man it's like.... er .... yeah... er.... man this is like ...er.... shit man what was I saying?"
"Are you ready?"
"Yeah man. Just push that button I'm there. I'm in the zone. I'm ready."
"OK you're on in three two one................"
"Have you started recording yet Mike?"
"Earth to Charlie."
"Yeah man I'm there I'm in the zone, keep going I'll blague it, what song were we doing? Oh yeah............."

I phoned Charlie this morning to make sure he was up for work.
"Shit Man I'm wrecked." he said. "But I'm there I'm in town already, I'm not late this week. Next time we record, no weed. We've got to be professional."
"Yes Charlie."
Rock on dudes!

iPod now playing - The poacher by Ronnie Lane's Slim Chance

My old Guitar

Last was my music club. A good turn out. But get this my fingers are really sore. I've been playing my old guitar. This is a guitar I bought about two years ago, a "Crafter",had it set up and it was brilliant it was the best guitar I'd ever had. (until I got my Ovation) I played it all the time. Then I got my Ovation and I never picked up the old Crafter ever again. I always took it to the music club for other people to use but I stuck with my Ovation. So tonight a load of people turned up and were queueing up to have a go at my Ovation so I was playing my old Crafter. It was painful. My fingers are so sore. I can't believe that a guitar I loved so much can hate me like that. It's even hard to type. I don't love my old guitar anymore. I hate it. Yes I know you're going to say"Hate" is a strong word. But my old guitar has betrayed me. It's hurt me. It was painful to play. It didn't respond to what I wanted to do like my Ovation. It's like a lost love coming back to dig the knife indeeper and wiggle it around. It's got to go. I'll never play it again.

iPod now playing - Louie Louie by the Kingsmen

Helene

For those who have noticed and been kind enough to read "my novel" here's an update on the Helene situation.
Quick recap. Met Helene when I was fourteen on school trip to France, became pen friends, met her again when 19, father took me for a bad un and took a shotgun to me, never saw her again for 20 years, met again and fell madly in love. After two and a half wonderful years she chose to go back to her husband who was seeking custody of the children, he was certain to win, she couldn't lose her children. We parted. I haven't seen her for nearly two and a half years now.
So now I have my life, I've got used to her not being around. The pain has mostly gone and I'm having a great time.
Last Friday I had a letter from Helene, telling me she still loves me and misses me a lot. 1st letter in over nine months. So that opened a shit load of emotions that I don't know what to do with. The best thing is she tells me that she still loves me and in the next paragraph says she's not getting divorced she's going to live her miserable life with André still. So what's the point? Why torment me like that? It's not fair. Just as I've got used to living without her she goes and does that to me. I haven't replied yet. I haven't the heart. I supposed I'd better one day. But I don't know what to say. I don't want to go back to that. It's not worth the pain. If she said in her letter "Yes I'm getting a divorce." it would be different but she's giving me all this shit at the same time as telling me we have no future. I knew that the day she went back to her husband two and a half years ago. She's probably as confused as I am. I can do without it. I guess I should be old enough to know better. But emotions have the habit of taking a fucking great swing at you when you're least expecting it and I wasn't expecting it. So that's me right now. And I'm still angry about it, but mostly calm.I was sailing along quite nicely as well. Living my life and having fun the best I can.

iPod now playing - Watching the Detectives by Elvis Costello

The Art of Being Famous

So last night I help out Mike Stewart with his "Rockology" show, it's an anthology of rock music over the last three decades. Mike paid me mega bucks for last night. So don't tell the tax man. I'm not complaining. In fact it was a long night; we started setting up at 7pm and got home about midnight. I had loads ofpeople say hi! to me. I guess it's because of my hat. It seemed everyone knew me. Or was it that they pretended to know me because I was with the band and they wanted to have some of it for themselves. An incredibly cute blonde girl came up to me and kissed me. She was pissed obviously, it wouldn't happen to me normally. I didn't recognise anyone apart from my own friends. It's a tricky thing being famous (even locally) people come up to you like they are your best friends and you haven't a clue who the fuck they are. But you smile and say hello and exchange all sorts of pleasantries and hope to God they don't expect you to know their names. Which I rarely do. I've noticed Del has the same thing, loads of people stop him to say hello even more than I get. He always gives the impression of being pleased to see them. I'll have to ask him one day if he really knows these people.

I phoned Jamie Lee Curtis last night to see if she wanted to come to the gig with me but she was otherwise engaged with a premiere of some film somewhere. Typical.
I'm very jealous of John Clease right now. He got to do a scene with her in "A fish called wanda." OK it was a long time ago but I can still be jealous. I might not phone her anymore being as she is playing so hard to get. She's the same age as me except she's older than me by one week. Hey I'm in showbizz. I know the score. We have things in common. OK I haven't made any films except for a trade film once where I played someone who had discovered a fire in a factory, and had to run from stage left shouting "There's fire....... come quick." That was my only line. But I spent weeks practicing and trying to get into character, I wanted to totally immerse myself in this important acting role and be as convincing as possible. I think setting fire to my own clothes during rehearsals may have been a bit over the top. So if your company makes you watch a fire safety film it could be me in the starring role. Jamie Lee Curtis eat your heart out. I'm famous. Famous in factories up and own the length and breadth of England. The companies pay their people to watch me but people have to pay to watch you. Last week I phoned Jamie Lee to see if she wanted me to come round with a bottle of fizzy wine and a dvd. But as usual she stood me up. You'd think she'd make time for a fellow actor.

iPod now playing - Smooth by Carlos Santana

Buying Shoes

So I go out to buy a new pair of trainers and I come back with a new car instead. It's a Renault Meganne Scenic 1.6. It was a lot easier to choose a new car than choose a pair of trainers, but the price difference............

My new car is great but it has a few niggles, like corners that I usually take doing 60mph in my Nissan Primera 2.0 have become really scary. Road holding is not a top priority with this car. Then there's my usual thing of coming off a roundabout straight intothe outside lane of the dual carriageway and booting it. The two litre Nissan just leaps away leaving all other traffic excepting police cars way behind in my rear view. So I d the same with the Scenic. Off the roundabout into outside lane and boot it. Nothing happens. Pedal to the metal. Still nothing. Cars piling up behind me impatiently. This is getting embarrassing. My car says "Wanna go faster? I'll take that into consideration and get back to you."
"Sometime this century would be nice." I scream.
"Relax." says my car, "Take your time, I'll get you there."
So tail between my legs I slope off into the crawler lane while my car winds itself up to go faster. And yes it does go faster. It'll cruise quite happily at 90mph all day. But then again it takes all day to get there. I exaggerate of course.
My new car even has a fridge. Yes really it's got a fridge. It's a tiny poxy little thing that holds three cans of coke and works off the air con. I've never had a car before that has a fridge. It's got two sun roofs. Yowser!
It's got secret little cubby holes to hide stuff. There's three under the rear seats. I had a look and found a forgotten hoard of road maps and A-Z books, tow ropes (ominous) jump leads (double onimous) and a first aid kit (Yikes).

Last night Del and I were recording again. We've been recording a couple of songs based on Lyrics supplied by our good friend Doctor Robert judging by the pile of empty beer cans we worked really hard last night. Del was getting down and funky with loads of Jazzy chords and licks. We're using Cakewalk for those who are interested. Recording straight onto my PC through my Berhinger mixing desk. Falling down water supplied by Kronenberg and Jack Daniels. Instruments supplied by Ovation Yamaha and Fender.
I've suggested to Andre that he supplies some lyrics for us to play with so he can tell Coffee Shop Girl he has written her a song. We could go into business putting peoples lyrics to music. Very reasonable rates all professionally done. Del had a fit of the giggles while recording Robs lyrics. On play back he said "That's got to stay in." God we're so professional. Which reminds me "by the way Rob what's the song called?"

iPod now playing - Grace by Jeff Buckley

The Shallow Grave

I was tootling round Lincoln yesterday having a look when I chanced up a city centre church. I had a look round the grave yard and there lieing in the loose soil was a human jaw bone complete with teeth. It was just on the surface right next to the entrance. I can't believe no one had noticed before. Well it got me thinking. Next time I feel the need to dig a shallow grave what better place than a grave yard or cemetary. It's the last place people would look for a body and if they found one they wouldn't be surprised because there's supposed to be bodies in there.

Here's an interesting thing, in France when you arrange for your burial plot you can order your plot for 50 years or 100 years. After that you get dug up and disposed of elsewhere. What happened to being laid to rest? That eternal slumber? Hardly eternal peace when you're gonna be dug up in fifty years or sooner if the nearest interested relation is already pushing up the daisies.

iPod now playing - Soldier Blue by Buffy Sainte-Marie

How much?

Today a friend of mine came to visit me. he's a rep for an Audio company selling HI-Fi equipment. he told me something that amazed me. You know those phono to phono leads 1.2m long they come to us at 56p each we can sell them for £1.50. That's your basic crap standard 12 strand lead. Then you get the 42 strand leads which are pukka, they would cost us £1.50 trade and we'd sell them for £4.00. Customers are very happy. But then you have the Hi-Fi enthusiasts who consider the 42 strand leads pathetic. They demand the best. Gold plated contacts, reduced oxygenated copper wire and silicone shrouded. These are the creme de la creme. You'd have to have the hearing of a bat to notice the difference but what the hey. Us humans don't have such good hearing but the Hi-Fi enthusiasts truly believe they can tell the difference. These fantastic cables cost £60 trade. Yes you read it correctly £60 plus tax trade each. My friend told me that there was a customer of his that sold these 1.2m phono to phono leads for......... wait for it........... £499.00 each.Shit on a stick! How much? £499.00. And they happily pay that much because they are the best. In our shop we sell light bulbs 40p each our customers quibble that they can get them from Tescos for 35p they moan about a poxy 5p. And this guy down south is selling phono to phono leads for £499.00 and the customers don't bat an eyelid. They could pay just £3.50 and get just as good sound quality.He sells 10 a month. Where am I going wrong?

iPod now playing - Whippin' Picadilly by Gomez