Tuesday, September 29, 2009

8.38 On Time
We did a fifteen minute meditation yesterday. I loved it.

Sometimes chanting is involved, and breathing, and keeping your eyes nine-tenths shut (which is more difficult than you might think) but this one didn’t involve much more than sitting still with our eyes closed emptying our minds.

Sitting still and emptying my mind is a big favourite of mine.

At one point it felt spectacular - like being on the edge of a black hole, peering into infinity, achieving harmony with the universe. Or, more feasibly, being on the point of nodding off.

Garden Ruin - Calexico


Monday, September 28, 2009

"...it's just like Venice, but it's not in Italy"

17.41 Ten Minutes Late
Horrible journey. Never ending stream of people dragging suitcases wider than the aisle through the train in the vain hope of finding their seat, and me conscious that any one of them could, at any moment, stop by the reserved seat that I've claimed and require me to surrender it to its rightful owner.

Luckily, I'm still just about buzzing from the end of a tricky but ultimately triumphal weekend of activity and social dilemma.

The GregsonOpenMicLancasterSongwritersNightLoveIn threatened to collapse under the weight of it's own popularity as the room filled up with the curious, the enthusiastic and the tiny young people (where did they all come from and weren’t they well behaved? Others could learn). The chairs ran out and the List was packed with performers all of whom wanted to be on at "about half nine, if possible". But with minimal bickering and an amazing amount of goodwill, looping & hollering it only overran by half an hour and no one from behind the bar got cross about it or tutted.

What is so funny 'bout peace love and understanding?

New Zealand Story - Not Every Moment Rules x3

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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

8.38 On Time
One day last week we went to the cafe in Stanley Park, to kill some time and eat a bacon barm (me, not him). It was much nicer than you'd think, and with the sun shining the way it was, it was almost like being on holiday.

On the wall is a price list from 1973.

In 1973 I would've had the egg & chips (22p), my Mum would've gone for the ham salad (42p) and my Dad would've wanted fish & chips but, on realising they were offering plaice rather than a proper fish, would've changed his mind. For pudding you could have apple pie or ice cream (or apple pie and ice cream if you were really pushing the boat out) and that was pretty much it.

Not that we would've been in Blackpool in 1973. We would've been in Morecambe.
Or Minehead or Barry Island or Ayr. Which is why I really love
this book.

The Existence Of Harvey Lord

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Monday, September 14, 2009

17.41 On Time
This morning passed in slow motion. It was all about the 'R' word.
This afternoon we were promised "Nothing will be decided until April, and even then... "

That "even then" just hangs in the air, because no one really believes it can be painless.

Grey Skies and Work Things - The Lilac Time
Welcome To The Working Week - Elvis Costello
Not A Job - Elbow
The Employment Pages - Death Cab For Cutie


Monday, September 07, 2009

8.38 On Time
A funny thing happened at the weekend. We didn't go home after the gig on Friday. Instead we went 'on' to another place, which wasn't hellish, where there was dancing.

Then we went up in a lift to a room with views.

Blood From Stars - Joe Henry


Wednesday, September 02, 2009

17.41 Ten Minutes Late
We don't know if it's the weather or the water, but a definite something has got into people recently.

A call on speakerphone is usually a sign that a conversation is degenerating and that witnesses or assistance might be needed, so we all had the benefit of Mr"I'm going to smash his wife's face in and if I committed murder it wouldn't be my fault, it would be the police's fault for not doing anything about it" . Very calm, totally in control: much more menacing than a ranter. You can leave a ranter to run out of steam, by which time they'll probably apologise and tell you "I'm just really frustrated". This one didn't sound angry - he sounded serious.

Then, later, ThesaurusBoy's caller tried for the sympathy angle by following up the promise of violence with the threat of suicide.

Some people seem to lose all sense of proportion when consumer goods go bad.

By The Time I Get To Phoenix - Glen Campbell
Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen
Incident At Conklin Creek - Richmond Fontaine
I Came Here To Say I'm Going Away - Okkervil River


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