Friday, 24 June 2016

So Far This Year I Have

Sang at a surprise 30th birthday party.  (I was the surprise.  The birthday boy was surprised.)

Been incensed by an errant “is” in the text on a display screen and used the classic quote “depends what your definition of “is” is” in response.

Partied like it was £19.99.

Used the above joke fourteen times, including this time.

Had a rye smile to myself about everyone suddenly remembering all the Bowie songs, as if they are suddenly more relevant than when he was alive.  And then listened to Ashes To Ashes, Rebel Rebel, Life On Mars, Space Oddity, Moonage Daydream, Starman etc., and remembered how good (and relevant) they are. 

Been woken up by my brother crushing a clothes horse in the room next door, as he stumbled around in the dark.  (And also been annoyed that he broke the thing.  And left a stain on my nice clean shirt in the process.)

Wondered if anyone else calls it a “clothes horse” (it’s a dryer, isn’t it?  But my Mum calls it a clothes horse, so I always have as well), and if this is the most quaint expression I regularly use.  (It’s not.)

Met the lovely and cute baby Manon.  She had spiky hair.  She didn’t say much.

Played a gig in Australia.  The third continent on which I have played.

Seen the Southern Cross in the night sky of the southern hemisphere, unspoiled by light pollution.  It was amazing.

Fed a wallaby from my hand.  It was a rock wallaby, and it was raw sweet potato, in case you’re interested.

Wondered why I do all this writing, and how much longer I should keep doing it.  A few times.

Wondered why I play music, and whether I should keep doing it.  Lots of times.

Written a blog about football, and noticed that a lot less people read the ones about football.  And written another one anyway.

Performed in character and been taken for actually being that character after the performance.  More than once.  It was exhilarating and uncomfortable at the same time and I felt like I should apologise to anyone who took it literally.  Because it suggests I am good at being that character and this presents something of an identity crisis and a feeling that I have duped people and should be very careful about how to proceed with this, if at all.  For now, it will hopefully suffice to say: no disrespect is intended to anyone.  Truth and honesty and empirical fact are not always the same thing. 

Been to loads of really good gigs and reviewed most of them.  (But not the best one.  I don’t know why.)

Bought a tent, and a shower for the first time.

Turned down a big gig and felt fairly good about it.

Played some lovely gigs that reminded me why I play gigs.

Played some gigs that made me not want to do it anymore.
Played a gig where my support act was the Mayor of Bristol. (The new one.)

Decided not to play gigs for a while.
Voted in a national referendum on an international political matter, even though I thought the whole thing was a squalid idea inspired by narrow, cynical realpolitik, with a campaign based mostly on dishonest bullshit and poorly-calculated (narrow, cynical) self-interest, taking place in an ominous, febrile atmosphere in which senior politicians sound increasingly like stereotypical white male middle-aged cab drivers and pub bores from years ago expressing opinions based on prejudice and anecdotal “evidence”, without regard to facts or thought.

Worried, a little bit, about the result of the above.

Started writing a(nother) blog about the above and then read a better one, by a friend, and abandoned my attempt.  What a relief for everyone…

Sent the following message to a(nother) friend about voting in the above:
“Ooh, lovely
Hand-in-hand with your beloved...
...beatific smiles on your joyous faces... in the knowledge of duty fulfilled,
And the tingling hope of status quo maintained.”

And followed the above message with this:
“I think it will be a bremain bresult, by a narrow margin, which will do nothing to dispel the atmosphere of cynicism. Since everything about the whole process has been narrow and cynical.”

Freed myself, with some kind of catharsis, and to some immeasurable extent, of a football-based prejudice under which I had previously laboured.  For about 30 years.  It feels alright.

Tried to learn how/when to shut the fuck up.  And when to resist offering unsolicited opinion.  (Win some, lose some…)

Won a pub quiz, possibly for the first time.  (Or possibly not.)

Done a pub quiz instead of watching football, definitely for the first time.

Taken part in a live radio session which was a really good laugh.  Even though one of the presenters spoiled one of my songs by dropping something and I shouted at him, the ruiner. 

Played a set and worked behind the bar at an album launch for a great band and drank my bodyweight in free beer while doing it.  (First time I’ve been paid in beer for a while….no one ever makes that mistake twice.)

Been disappointed to miss out on Pilton Pop Festival, but cheered to have a really good reason.

Been bored both by facebook statuses talking about going Glastonbury, and those talking about not going.

Been relieved to not be getting trenchfoot.

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