Pants

An early morning call from my new solicitor this morning. Since the last one has gone, things actually seem to be moving along a bit. I had to give them permission to contact my employers and my father again. I can understand why people milk these things. When asked how much help I needed around the house with cleaning, whilst in plaster....I queried the word cleaning...surely that's only once a year. To be serious though, I told her I am ex army, proud and trained to fight through. Yes, I could say I needed care every day and it cost my dad a fortune in petrol... but I couldn't live with myself if I lied. They say cheats never prosper....but with claims, I fear they do. Honesty is the best policy...even if poorer one. I was born in a terraced house and my cot was a bottom draw. We never had much money and I was taught to live within my means. I intend to go out this world as I came in....but I am in the middle draw now.

Bomber

So the logistics of getting my new sofa and getting rid of the old one the same day,were as complicated as Brexit. The delivery slot was narrowed to between 12 and 2018. I had my dad on standby to come to my house as I was at work. A prolific tinkerer, my dad bought his tools , just in case anything needed fixing. True to form, when I got home, my internal door was in bits on the floor, the lock having mysteriously broken...although it had done ok, for the last 20 years ! Also while sliding my curtains into a better position  ..he snapped the curtain rod. So I am now living in a house that wouldn't look out of place in Beirut. To make matters worse, my friend who was buying my old sofa, hired a man with a van to fetch it. He was in a mad rush and took half the paint off my other door. When it got to my friends house, it wouldn't go through the door ..so she has to take the window out? Driving for another company today in one of their vehicles. I literally had seconds to work out where indicators and hand brake were...any chance of a break?

Chinese whispers

The music world can be cruel sometimes. I was offered a weeks work playing in a show. I turned it down owing to other commitments. The seat was passed to a good friend of mine. Unfortunately the MD decided to use some other bone player, but failed to inform my friend. He had cancelled numerous things , just to honour the show. Very sad, but it seems that communication in this country is non existent.

Taking the Mickey

Amazing what you find, whilst digging around in the back of the garage. Lord Lucan. Shergar....oh and this old phone. Many years ago, I collected anything trombone related. From ornaments to badges. This phone was a must have. The whole band play Dixie and move around when the phone rings. The trombone slide even goes in and out..in fact...a lot smoother than mine. So I plugged it in...and waited....and waited....but no one called... so I put it in the garage !

Livingstone

A surreal night last night. We played in an area, where if your car breaks down, and the AA is called and can't fix it.....then they will pinch you another!! Despite numerous poster drops     ..no new faces turned up. Lots of loyal fans...and by the middle of first set...a local from the bar...who danced in the middle of floor on his own. Expecting trouble, I used him as a focal point and gave him a prize for his creative dancing. That broke the ice. He told me he never had won a prize in his life before. Suddenly...more and more people filtered in from the bar.. sheepishly at first...fear in their eyes as to what this new fangled music was. More used to Sex me up and boom box rap....they slowly entered the room like a long lost tribe, seeing civilisation for the first time. By the end of the evening , I had them doing a barn dance a waltz...and singing along to Minnie the Moocher. Music is an international language of peace...and on this occasion we made many converts. Job done.

One man

I would like to thank a very good friend of mine, for setting the seeds of guilt. The sun comes out for an hour....and they mow their lawn!!!! I hate gardening. My dad used to drag me out to help him...which scarred me for life. So on my bike ride yesterday, the pangs of guilt started to eat away at me. That I should not be enjoying myself...but oiling my fly mo and sharpening my prunes. Guilt won...and I retrieved my Victorian push mower from the depths of my garage. The front lawn was easy...but then I made my way to my tennis table sized back lawn. Soddened with a an overactive cat spray deterrent...my mower gracefully died on me. I now have a postage sized neatly trimmed area...and the set of Tarzan Lord of the jungle. So thanks friend ...

Goodness nose

I now know that this country is beyond help. I sat through of some of the red nose rubbish last night. Many years ago I was brought to tears..and donated regularly. Last night was a cringe festival of innuendos and embarrassment. It culminated, in a rather over weight lady...stuffed into a leopard skin body suit...trying to use observational humour, using the F word continually, then breaking into Nessum Doner kebab. The most exciting part of the programme....which biscuit is the best. But to sink even further into the pits. You can now buy a mother's day card, saying thank you for letting me come out of your vagina. Rest in Peace England.. you sicken me.

Sofa no good

I bought 2 new sofas...I don't need 2...but the first was bloke shopping. Out of a catalogue, without actually seeing. When it arrived, it took 2 minutes to get in the house....and a further 30 to bring all the bloody cushions in!!! It's a tad girlie. So with female help, I tried about 300 and ordered a new one. 6 weeks to make it? Finally got delivery time....between 7am and 7pm!!! That's like us in funeral world being asked what time the service is...and we say....just wait at the crem all day and we will text you 2 hours before? Thought we were in a scientific age now...but oh no...get up at 6...wait...and delivery at 6.55...pm. Not a good reflection on modern life...

Not in my name

Awful events in London yesterday. There will be many more to come in the name of Islam I am afraid to say. So what's the answer. In this country ...it's simple. Shock and horror. Ban the worship of a book that can be so misinterpreted. The bible says. Thou shall not kill. That is impossible to read in a different way.Let the good Islamists turn against the bad, to educate the terrorists the true meaning. If that's not possible, then we have to be cruel to be kind and this false worship has to be stopped in this country.

Kennel club

Was taken back to my childhood today, as I chased a stray dog around streets. The dog had been running out in front of traffic. I had no chance though. The one time I got close to grabbing scruff of his neck , I got the evil eye and evil growl. No amount of luring with tempting treats, would get him close. I hope he gets home safe. As a lad, I used to drag stray dogs home, asking my dad..' can I keep him'  the answer was invariably NO. I would drag them home, even if they had collars, leads and their  owner on the end. Dad..it's a stray..Honest. We had many a surprised dog owner stop for tea. I never got to keep the dog, although a nice owner of a pug...stopped for 2 weeks.

Hot

Great rehearsal with the other group last night. Never thought I would be playing fever on bass guitar. Total concentration though...didn't blink for 4 minutes. Home for a cheeky beer, shared with my friend Angel. My reversing skills in a limo always challenged...off a busy road with cars and pedestrians leaping out like lemmings. Only 2 inches spare either side of wing mirrors. Breathe in.

Oliver

There are those that do...and those that don't. I am a doer... if that's a word? Out in the middle of the countryside... not a cafe in sight. Coffee withdrawal symptoms. Country cottage just up road from church. Speak to owners. Ten minutes later, a steaming mug of the black stuff in my hands. Cheeky? Maybe. But my fellow undertakers looked on in envy... at least I think it was that. Downside...little old lady at cottage charged me £3....

Rawhide

I like a challenge. Well, if I have slept more than 20 hours in a week I do. I am taking the band into unknown territory next Sunday, with what I have named..A Mothers Day special. I have been doing poster drops and social advertising over the last month and until the day itself, won't know if anyone is coming. As I have received no phone calls asking for details, I am hoping, that all that is needed to know, is on the poster? We could have the local domino team only ....or have to hire bouncers for crowd control. All I know, is that its been hard work....and if it's a no show, I may throw the towel in on publicising great music.

Baldly

There is a great little page on a well known social site, that allows bands to contact dep musicians. Saw a plea for a bass guitarist. Now, I know I am only on Janet and John, connects the bass to the amp...book one. But I was fascinated what the position would entail. The group was a tribute band working round a well known 60s singer with black glasses and a connection to Xmas.. I asked the question to the band...does the bass read from dots...or is it all impro. Apparently the band have numerous gigs and travel nationwide. The reply I got.
' Don't know what you mean mate. We just practice in my kitchen ..over a cup of tea, until we get it right ' !!!! Ok.. for one important reason...I won't be applying. Tea!!! Bloody Tea!!@

Curtain call

When I am tired, I tend to reflect on my life. I have been doing a lot of reflecting just lately. Have I really done all those things? It almost seems sometimes, that I am looking in, on someone else's life story? I can never say my life is boring. I don't like routine. I like challenging myself, especially when short on sleep and working like a zombie. Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes its rewarding. I have a friend, who was told they were a superb musician and could they book them for a future gig. Like me, they can't handle compliments. See compliments equals pressure. Well in my book they do. Your only as good as your last performance, whether on stage, or in life.

Running buffet

Professional musicians are well know for their crazy demands on risers ...or food and drink demands after a concert. It has to be precise...Take Sinatra for example. He always had Jack Daniel’s, Chivas Regal, Courvoisier, Beefeater Gin, red wine, white wine, shrimp cocktail, and Life Savers.Beyonce has a special seasoned chicken. Now undertaker have no demands...but it usually revolves around sweet things. Biscuits or chocolate etc. Rarely getting chance of a hot meal at lunch.. digestive biscuits are our fuel. Occasionally we get chance to partake in the wake buffet. But if I see another sausage roll or cheese on a stick...I think I will go mad!!!!

Woof

Anyone that suffers from anxiety, will know, that the fact, is often less stressful, than the fear. If going into a difficult situation, the brain can go through some horrific scenarios...of 'What if's ' There is nothing you can do about it. The Brain is your computer going through all parameters of your challenge. Running silently in the background, but playing havoc with your adrenaline levels.  Thus sleep and appetite is affected. But it's also giving you the script and stage direction in multiple ways, on how to approach the fear. There are only 2 ways you can alter this. Fight or Flight. Well seeing as I don't have a passport.. I try and choose fight every time. Yes it's exhausting..boy is it. But fear has to be faced. Fear of failure or making a fool of yourself is in everyone. Some handle it, by doing the mere basics in life. Sleep eat work sleep. Me....well I may pop clogs at an early age...but will go knowing that I did all I could. Bring on the dogs.

Inspiration expireration

Well after yesterday's funeral, I finally know what I want doing when I don't get up one day! It's expensive, it's flamboyant and it's lasting. Plus it's given me peace of mind. My dad promises he will carry out my wishes...as long as I have put money aside. What is it? Nah not saying. You will have to wait and see. But it's certainly took a weight off my mind....and my bank balance.

Wings

I blame June Allyson. Her theme tune is played every time she pouted at James Stewart in the Glenn Miller story. Too little time is the tune and twas last night's solo for me. Only my heart wasn't in it. The emotion I normally put into solos like this was non-existent . This was due to the fact of being tired and anxious and basically off it. It's amazing when under the weather, how many other challenges come along. Like my hot water boiler playing up. Being asked to front the night before a massive challenge. I have learned now, that some I have to deal with and some...I can just say ' no ' ...I could never do that before, as I feared letting people down. If it's loved ones then it's more important. But the rest....no one really cares. They don't see what you're going through....Yes the show must go on...but I decide on the curtain up performance now.

Less yuk

The show did go on. I had to draw on all reserves, as it was a very long gig, with almost 3 one hour sets. I crawled into bed and slept more than my usual 4 hours. Still feel drained, but managed some food and a walk. I have a long week ahead, so back to taking one hour at a time. I am very aware of the survival strategies now.

Yuk

Since waking up.at 4am feeling rough...I have been slumped on sofa all day..trying to get energy for tonight's gig. I have no idea what's wrong...but drained my energy levels. The show must go on.

Pane

Whilst searching through some old photos, I found this one. It was secondary school. I was being bullied and my mum was Ill at home and spending all her time in bed. I went to school and went home and she would still be asleep. I had no idea she was suffering from severe depression, nor what was in store later on in life. The bullying culminated in being stabbed with a compass thrown into my back. I don't know if this was taken before or after the incident. But the eyes, which are Windows to the soul..say it all.

Fluff

I had to record a bass line for a song last night. Firstly I had to rewrite it a tone down. From almost the third note, I noticed how my transposition skills had dwindled....I blame the acidentals. I also noticed...that although a simple piece...as soon as the recording button lit up...I became all fingers and thumbs...not good when playing guitar. But thinking back to my recording days in the army and onwards...certain bands freeze as soon as a microphone is shoved in front of them. You can smell the fear.   But why the nerves? No one wants to fail. I could guarantee, that during a solo, if I knew a top note was approaching and depending on my confidence that day...I would convince myself that I would miss it. Invariably I would. That can happen in most things in life. All it is, is the fear of failure, of letting your fellow musicians down.. not the audience...to be honest...I have always played for the musos in the band. Mutual respect and all that . It can become a vicious circle though. Fearing that one thing. Invariably it will go wrong if that top c is meandering it's happy way towards you, behind all the safe notes. The secret is...not to care. I don't think I will ever master that.

Pineapple pen

I have finally found the perfect coffee. So much so, I have ordered a posh coffee tin to keep it in and a posh spoon to delicately place into my coffee maker. Hawaiian Hazelnut decaffeinated...it fills the house with aromas of Sandy beaches and hula hula girls...I just wish they would keep the bloody noise down when I am trying to sleep. Strange thing is, I don't like pineapple...my mum was convinced that I was conceived, when she had a bowl of that yucky fruit. In fact her nickname for me was ' chunk' do you think this is classed as child abuse?  I have also sourced someone to do the PAT test. He works on a car breakers yard. He told me to drive into the yard...leave car...and find his office...! You just know what's going to happen don't you ?

Frikadela

I dread to think how much we all drank, when serving in the army. Especially in Germany, where you were basically forced to drink beer at 8am whilst you played at a German Shooting festival. Don't get me wrong, we also were fed...with sausages and raw steak...of which I was very fond of. Play a number...drink a beer. Playsh a numbersh, drinksh a beer.In fact, the whole band did a marching display, having consumed their own body weight in beer and schnapps. So seeing this today, I wished it was around as standard Army issue.

Patricia

I am tired of this pink fluffy countries health and safety laws. A country that doesn't allow school children to play conkers or eat worms? Not allowed yo yo's in case they shoot up your nose..or worse. Total madness. But what actually angers me more is bloody PAT testing. Another money making con. Today I took a friend to a crematorium ( I know how to entertain,) to show her around a chapel. She will be singing at a relatives funeral and wanted to get the feel of the place. When I mentioned she would be using a small power amp...Sharp intake of breath....oooh not without a certificate you can't. Now don't get me wrong. I have been a bass player for only 3 years..but never has my amp exploded, killing members of the audience. My shocking playing, is more likely to do that. And here is the clincher. On the other side of the chapel, separated by chip board and plaster...are three massive incinerators...kicking out thousands of degrees of fire and heat?? At the very worst...the good old fuse invention will kick in, if the amp decides to turn into a thermo nuclear device. Truth is, you could be PAT tested on the Monday...and a fault could develop on the Tuesday, destroying the planet as we know it. Next they will be banning sky diving for the under fives.

Breast is best?

SEX. There. Now I have got your attention. It's complicated. Always has been. Men are basic. Females are complicated...and I wouldn't change that for the world. Feminism is more than complicated ..it's a minefield. Harry Potter? Ok where am I going with this, you are thinking? Well. Any male that watched the series of films, knew that Hermione Grainger was going to grow up to be a great actress and a beautiful woman. She did...and she took on the role of fighting for women's rights...to be considered equal. Ok, then what does Emma Watson do? She gets her breasts out for a magazine!!! This is where I get confused.....what is the message? Look at my gazoobies, they are beautiful...but don't look, I am not a sex object? It's caused an uproar in feminist world and women from many countries are trying to retrieve their charred bras from the embers. I am no prude.. but a well known red top newspaper, had me turning to page 4 in public...in case anyone saw me lingering a second too long on page 3!!! But even they have covered their models charms up now. Don't get me wrong...I love breasts...I find them fascinating...but these days, they should come with a warning sign....Stare if you Dare.!! Yep, sex is complicated and it would take many juggernauts to carry the instruction book.

It don't mean a thing.

I am working really hard, trying to promote a concert our band is putting on. I have done numerous poster drops around the area. The poster is top quality, designed by a very good friend of mine. It has every detail anyone would need. Including free admission, but I was still asked by one person...how much is it to get in. Fact is,many people are not observant and live in their own safe bubble. Be it driving or walking along staring at a mobile phone....it's their world and they ain't coming out of it. So all I can hope, is that all the people who have seen the poster....are bubbless...and have taken in all the information, because I have received no calls. I have to admit to being a little scared, especially if no one turns up. But I did say a quick prayer to the big band agent in the sky. I wonder if a free concert by a big band in the 1940s would attract hundreds. No e mail in them days. Good old word of mouth. Then again, when you are only used to karaoke and bingo in a pub, to be met by 16 men and women..swinging...can be a tad daunting?

Ear ear

Lots of drivel coming out about the new laws on mobile phone use while driving. People saying that hands free just as bad ..as you still have to touch phone screen??? Erm no!! Hands free are for mainly incoming calls...answered by pressing button on ear piece whilst still having eyes on road. If you want to make a call. You stop somewhere safe. Switch engine off. Make call and when connected, drive off again, when safe to do so. Using those little twinkley light things called indicators, which BMWs, taxis and white vans, unfortunately don't have.It really is quite simple. But some folk will never accept common sense.

Nicked

Following on from my post, about the theft of a laptop from a Funeral Directors...it's been handed back. But not by the scrote that stole it. After the burglary..he went straight to the pub and sold it to a geezer for 40 quid. When the guy got it home and switched it on, there was the Funeral Directors home page. To be fair, even though the guy had accepted stolen goods...he rang the FD and gave it him back. Obviously he knew the thief, but couldn't say, because he would also be done. There were enough clues though to get a name...maybe karma will catch up.

No hands

Going through daft head stage again. To me, that means poor sleep and walking round like a zombie. I am sleeping, but loads of dreams, so not quality. I was excited today though. Today they raised the penalties against drivers using mobile phones. 1 young driver, was caught and will have to 're sit his test. Interviewed on the radio, he didn't seem bothered? What will it take? I will definitely collect evidence and hand over to the police, if I see anyone disobeying the law. It's my pet hate....well one of many.