Thursday, 31 May 2012
One of my favourite venues for seeing bands and having a 'Rock n Roll' night out was Newcastle Mayfair, now sadly demolished to make way for the gentrification of Newcastle (like the Haymarket pub). Back in the the day l saw loads of gigs there, played loads of air guitar, and annoyed the local lasses. As it was a standing venue, you could get as close to the stage as you wanted (within reason), or just stay at one of the many bars and watch from a distance. I usually did a mixture of both
These are photos from when it opened (1961?), and the amazing thing is, it wasn't that much different when rock bands were 'kicking ass' in the 'rock n roll capital of the world' in the 1970's.
Happy days indeed.
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
Sitting on our doorstep drinking red wine the other night (classy, l know), myself and the FPO were talking about plastic tubes going into bodies, such as the ones drips can be attached to (the evenings around our way just fly by). During the course of this discussion, she mentioned they were called shunts. Now don't get me wrong, she may look like a blithering idiot, and may indeed be one, but every now and again, usually on the occasions that Manchester City win the league, she startles me with a minuscule sliver of knowledge that l don't have, and this was one of those rare occasions. I thought she may be taking the piss at first, as l didn't realise they were known as that, and obviously l never mind her knowing something l don't, but suffice to say, once l had looked it up, l sulked from then until now.
I still can't get over it,
If we had a cat that wasn't so raggedy, l'd go and boot it over next doors fence.
It's the last time she gets some wine of mine (someone at work bought me it).
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Well dear reader, l did it. I managed to drag myself out of bed, drove to the train station (setting off at 5.45am) and caught the early train to that there London. I was a bit tired early on at the meeting, but perked up until the train journey home, when l could have easily fallen asleep, but, the trooper that l am, l hung on gallantly, drove back from Darlington, and was home for 8pm, in plenty of time for some chicken and a soak (and no, they are not euphemisms).
The meet was at The Holiday Inn by Kings Cross, where l discovered there were only about 100 of us staff invited (from about 7,500) and due to our splendid work, money has been put aside for our development within the organisation (whatever that will entail). At lunchtime l managed to go outside for some fresh air and have a wander round the surrounding area, as Tavistock Square was nearby (plus Kenneth Williams' childhood home/flat). I know about the Bloomsberry group centred around the area, but it was bugging me what else l remembered Tavistock Square from, and thought it may have been the location for 'Performance', which, it turns out, was at Powis Square. It was only when l got home and checked that l found out - it was the scene of the 7/7 bombing, when an explosive went off on a double decker bus, in the same place as the one in the photograph above, outside the British Medical Association, where there is now a small plaque (which l didn't see).
If you are wondering what the drawing is, it is a representation of my passions, drawn by someone else as an exercise during the day. I'll let you guess what they are from the artwork.
What a gay day.
The sun looked pretty good on the way home from work tonight, and it feels as though summer time is here at last (it probably won't last long).
Hopefully it won't be too hot tomorrow as l have to go to London for the day with work (getting up at 5.30am to do so, as the train is about 6.30am!), and l don't want to be traipsing around underneath the scorching sunshine. I should really have gone down this afternoon and stayed overnight beforehand, and if l am knackered tomorrow, that is precisely what l will be doing next time. Then again, maybe l should have had an early night instead of pratting about on the computer, but l wouldn't have been able to sleep if l went to bed early, as l am not used to it.
Let's see how it pans out tomorrow.
Monday, 28 May 2012
Inside Deep Throat was not as good a documentary as l was expecting, as it hardly featured Linda Lovelace and her views, until right near the end. It was mainly about the making of the film and the aftermath, which involved dealing with government prosecution, bans, Christians and the mob. Artistic freedom was at stake, and ultimately, the more 'the man' tried to ban it, the more people wanted to see it (like everything else). Linda Lovelace starred in the movie, became famous because of it, promoted it, and then joined the feminists and rallied against it, saying she was forced into it and people watching the film are seeing her being raped. Later on, she poses for an adult magazine and finds nothing wrong with doing so, saying she is providing for her daughters and there's nothing wrong with being sexy. She certainly seemed (she died in 2002) pretty contradictory and mixed up, and her partner comes across as a twat, but as to being forced into the movie and the promotion/books etc, it certainly didn't seem like that at the time. She went on to do Deep Throat 2 and pretty much any crap for publicity (and money) but what do l know? I never walked a mile in her shoes (as Elvis would say). As l stated at the beginning, it's a shame she wasn't featured, questioned and probed in depth (unlike in the movie), as that is the real story.
Sunday, 27 May 2012
What a great picture. A Manatee and a child, taken by CMGW photography. It makes the Manatee look somewhat wise and all knowing, as though it is passing a silent and withering judgement on the next batch of humans (or is that just me thinking that?).
Anyway, our idiot rabbit will end up looking like that once we shave his hair off. It's only a matter of time...
While l was out and about today minding my own business, l went to Tesco in Catterick for some much needed provisions (wine/cheese - you know how it goes), when l viddied a load of bikers by the new sports centre. I know it was a sunny day, and they like to meet up, but l think l would rather have been driving through the countryside, rather than hanging around, looking at an industrial estate. Honestly, some people have no imagination, and they are meant to be rock and roll hellraisers.
Saturday, 26 May 2012
A superb documentary about a 1974 tightrope walk between the Twin Towers, and the build up to it, 'Man on Wire' manages to keep the suspense and interest alive, even though you already know the outcome (as he (Philippe Petite) is talking on the film in later life, you can assume he didn't die). There are also some emotional bits, but it is mainly about one man and his obsession and drive. Marvellous stuff.
Jack, our remaining cat, is now about 22 years old, deaf as a singer in Coldplay, stupid, and pretty decrepit. As she can no longer use the catflap, she now has a dirt tray she pisses over the side of, and she stinks to high heaven on a regular basis. This was after we gave her a clean up a couple of evenings ago. Scrawny little git.