Had another chat with Rod and Shirley, our good friends in Nashville, because we'd seen on the news that they'd had some pretty violent tornados in their neck of the woods, but they told us the storms narrowly missed them. Rod said that the weather they'd been experiencing was the worst since records began, and I can't help feeling that the worst is yet to come when you see the freak weather which is occurring all over the world. It's laughable in one way, all the talk of global warming, the ozone layer, etc etc, saying we've got to do this, and we've got to do that, when in reality it's all a bit late, the damage has already been done. In a way it's a comforting thought that we won't be around to see what happens!
There's another batch of good jokes on the JOKES page!
Sunday 17th Feb Chris and I spent the evening visiting the Tamar Valley Westerners at the Hyde Park Social Club. The artiste appearing was a gent I'd never come across before called Beau Blake who, I was told, originated from Georgia in the US of A, and was now living in Saltash of all places! He certainly looked the part, and his backing tracks, which were all on CD, sounded very good. Bearing in mind my ability to say the wrong things, I won't elaborate further. except to say that he was very adept at "assuming the position", which, those of you who have been reading my site for any length of time will understand. For those unfamiliar with the expression, it means that he stood on stage with a guitar slung round his neck which he spent a considerable amount of time leaning on rather than playing. I had a quick chat with him about his guitar which was a nice Washburn, and while we were chatting someone came over and asked him if he could sing one of the tracks on a CD that they'd just bought from him. His reply was that the song in question was not in the show that night ........ the mind boggles! I had no idea I was in the prescence of royalty. I thought he was there to please the crowd any way he could, which includes doing requests. Still, who am I to criticize, I've only been at it for fifty years. Nuff said.
Sunday 24th Feb was the big Party for the Tamar Valley Westerners, to celebrate 25 years since Lin and Lawrence first founded the club, and Hijack and I had offered our services free as we had played for the Westerners on a regular basis from day 1, which amounts to a lot of bookings! It was well publicised from what I was told, (although I don't listen to the radio much these days, Chris was listening to one of the local stations, Radio Devon, and heard it being advertised), and it seems I've got a new name. I'm now called "Mika" (sounds like a bloody Russian immigrant). Never mind, I'm too long in the tooth to worry about what people call me but it does prove a point. It doesn't matter how long you've been performing in public, there's still a lot of people out there who won't know you from Adam! Let's get back to the plot, the party. There was an excellent turnout and the place was packed, and the question "why can't it be like this every Sunday" was voiced by quite a few of the regulars, which is fair comment. Admission was by ticket and included a basket meal of your choice and everyone was well satisfied with the quality of the food. Hijack opened the show and did a 40 minute spot and then I did 30 minutes. Then there was a break for a raffle and some speeches which ended with the cutting of a lovely celebratory cake. Unfortunately, although I had in fact, put my camera on the table to take with me for the evening, I went without it. I think they call it Senile Dementure! Anyway, then it back to the music with Hijack. Now, don't get me wrong, Jack (0f Hijack) is a very good friend of mine and the salt of the earth, but he gets carried away when he's on stage. He likes to invite friends up to do a turn which is something I don't encourage having learnt from bitter experience that it can all too often turn into, as my mate Bobby Jones would say, a debaucle. I find it more explanatory to say, "go to rat-shit". Consequently Hijack's spot ran well over and by the time I got back on stage, there was only time for a couple of songs, one for Lin and Lawrence called "Look At Us", a Vince Gill song which was very appropriate for the occasion, and then the Trilogy, at the end of which there was a minute's silence to remember friends no longer with us, which I thought was a very thoughtful gesture. All the favourite requests that I normally would have played for different people had to be left out, and for that you have my apologies, although it was beyond my control. Having said that, the evening was a great success, and I feel sure that everyone had a good night.
Sunday 2nd March already, it seems like times going by a little faster these days. A good mate of ours, Ramrod, was playing for the Tamar Valley Westerners so we went along to say hello. It's a long old day for him, time he drives from Clevedon where he lives, to Weston Super Mare to pick up Steve who goes with him on the gigs, then drive down to Plymouth, do the gig, then the long drive home after, but we all do it and it's certainly not for what we make doing it. I think most musicians must have dropped on their heads when they were babies because there ain't that many sane people who would do what we do for the money you get doing it! Ramrod was in good voice and sang all the favourites including "Louisiana Way" so Chris and I could have our favourite dance. Being a reb through and through he gave Jimmy ( a true Blue) the usual ribbing including singing "The South Will Rise Again", at which time Jimmy decided to go out for a cigarette, but it's all done in the "best possible taste" as they say. We apologised to Ramrod for leaving before the end of the evening as both Chris and I were feeling more than a little knackered but thoroughly enjoyed the time we spent there.
It came to my notice recently that a new radio station had gone on air called Radio Scilly which, as the name says, is broadcast from St. Mary's on the Isles of Scilly. Having spent a lot of time over there in my younger years, and having written a few songs about the Islands, I decided to contact them and was pleasantly surprised to receive a nice email back from Keri, one of the presenters, asking me to send them the CD. So I've packaged it and will send it for their appraisal. More on that when it happens, but it will be interesting to get the reactions of people on the Islands who will recognise the names of the places and things I wrote the songs about.
You may have noticed one of the additions to the JOKES page, about Bubba going to the Doctor's. I know it's just a joke but it has a ring of truth which is becoming all too familiar unfortunately. I've been to see the Doc several times since Christmas regarding the problems I've experienced for a long time now with a Hiatus Hernia which seems to be getting progressively worse. I'm not going into detail about the ins and outs of the cat's backside, suffice to say that the doctor I have been seeing just doesn't seem to listen to a word I say. Consequently the last batch of medicine he dispensed to me, which I had told him on more than one occasion were doing anything for me, I packaged up and sent back to him along with a letter voicing my opinion of his "bedside manner", and have decided it might be prudent for me to try another doctor before I say something I might live to regret. I appreciate that they see a lot of patients these days but I wouldn't say no to what they earn for doing it, and, as another old saying goes, "if you can't stand the heat, get out of the bloody kitchen"!
The next two items are courtesy of Fran who emailed them to me. The first is a subject that is all too prominent these days in most countries, certainly here:
Britain Needs A Leader Like This!
Muslims who want to live under Islamic
Sharia law were told on Wednesday to get out
of Australia, as the government targeted
radicals in a bid to head off potential
terror attacks.
Separately, Howard angered some Australian
Muslims on Wednesday by saying he supported
spy agencies monitoring the nation's
mosques.
I watched a bit of News 24 a couple of days ago, and part of it was some interviews with Kenneth Clarke and some other MPs. With this in mind, if anyone out there happens to have the telephone number of any of the ancestors of Guy Fawkes, would they please pass it on to me, I've got a little job for them! .....
Sunday 16th March, another visit to the Tamar Valley Westerners to watch and listen to a young guy we'd never met before, Richard Palmer. I'd been talking to my old mate Bobbie Jones and mentioned that Richard was due to appear and Bobbie said he knew him and that we should go and see him, so we did. The first thing I noticed was he had a good Country-style voice, and the second was that he was actually playing his Takamime accoustic (albeit with a capo occasionally) which was nice to see. A good variety of songs (although I did get the sneaky feeling that he likes Garth Brooks), and even a Froggie song requested by one of the ladies, which he played just strumming along with no other backing which was very good. It showed that, although still extremely young, he's there to do his best to please his audience, and that's a good sign in anybody's book. I had a quick chat with him during the second break and, although we've never met before, we've got a lot of mutual friends that we've both played alongside over the years. One piece of sad news he passed on that I wasn't aware of was that Dillinger are no longer playing together, so I'll have to try and get hold of Richard Harding and find out what happened. To sum up, the evening was enjoyable, and it's good to know there are youngsters out there to carry on where us old buggers leave off.
Friday 21st March we were invited to a surprise birthday party meal at a New Orleans Steak House in Plymouth. It was my mate Scott's 50th, and as far as he knew, he and his partner Michelle were going out for a quiet meal. I'd love to have seen the expression on his face when, not one, but two stretch limos pulled up outside his house packed with family and friends. We'd arranged with Michelle to meet them at the Steak House because it's literally on our doorstep, and so we were there when the limos turned up and everyone clambered out all 33 of them! The menu was an education, I saw things on the menu I'd never heard of, let alone eaten, and, try as I might, I couldn't find anything that I could eat. I haven't had a good steak in ages, not because I've gone off it, but because it's gone off me. I should explain perhaps that steak is one of the hardest things to digest, so anyone with a Hiatus Hernia like mine would probably enjoy eating it, but suffer for days after! One of the waitresses came around and I asked her if it was possible to have just a nice piece of chicken with some chips and peas without any of the spices, peppers and whatnots they bugger it up with, and she was extremely helpful and told me it wouldn't be a problem, except that, because it wasn't on the menu, it would appear on the bill as the nearest thing they had to it. So that piece of chicken, along with some chips and peas cost me £9.75! Still, we were there for the company, not the meal, so what the hell... There were a few hilarious moments, like when everyone opened the little boxes on each place setting, and found these balloons which blew out to about four foot long and which, when you let them go went screeching around the restaurant and had everybody diving for cover. One that Scott launched went straight between a loving couple sat in a secluded corner before running out of steam and the looks on their faces was a picture. Then some were inhaling the helium from some of the other balloons tied to the backs of their chairs, and we all know what happens but it's always funny when they talk. As is the norm these days, the smokers all had to go outside for a cigarette, and it was real brass monkey weather but, on this occasion, an eye opener because there was a hen night going on and some of the costumes didn't leave much to the imagination! Particularly 2 young ladies(???) who were prancing around in the freezing cold in skimpy bikinis! Chris said, "That made your night" but as I told her, I've seen more meat on a butcher's knife. It was a great evening and made a pleasant change, not that I would like to make a habit of it at their prices.
Saturday 22nd March I was booked to play at another 50th Birthday party. We left home in plenty of time and drove to the venue I had written down in the diary, and on arriving, found it was all boarded up. I asked a local out walking his dog about the club, and he told me it had been closed down a while ago through lack of support. So now I had a problem, all dressed up and not knowing where to go because I didn't have the contact number with me, so we drove home again and I tried ringing the number I had in my diary. As I feared there was no answer, because everyone was at a party waiting for the band to turn up! Then I had a brainwave and phoned Lin and Lawrence of the Tamar Valley Westerners because the lady who had booked me used to be a member of the Westerners and was well known by them. Luckily Lin knew where the party was being held and so we got back in the car and drove to the Leisure Centre at Derriford Hospital, Plymouth, and I vaguely remembered that Edna, the lady who booked me, had rung a second time to tell me about a change of venue, but muggins had forgotten to change it in the diary! It's an age thing! As I mentioned earlier, we had originally set out with plenty of time to spare, and so I still wasn't late, in fact, after apologising for my mistake and setting up, I started playing 5 minutes late, which was pretty good going! They say it's a small world, and on this occasion it certainly was because I met people I knew from the dim dark past that I hadn't seen in a lot of years, and found out that one couple we've seen regularly at one of the western clubs, Debbie and her husband (whose name escapes me), live just a short distance down from me in Grenville Road, Plymouth, and we've never seen them in the 2 years I've been there! It was a nice evening although no one seemed to want to dance but just sat and chatted and listened to the music, which is fine by me as long as they're enjoying it. It was an 11pm finish so we were home before midnight which was ideal.
Having spent six months doing up the flat I now occupy in Grenville Road, Plymouth, I thought I would now be able to "hang up" my tools so to speak, except for the odd maintenance job, and take it easy....... silly me. It all began just over a month ago when a friend rang my doorbell, and when I opened the front door, she was standing there in tears. She told me how a flat she had been renting out to, what seemed to be a reputable young man, had literally been wrecked by said young man. Chris and I went with her to survey the damage and it was horrendous. The young man's father was a solicitor, and his mother was a head mistress which you would think would be ideal credentials for a would be tenant. It just shows how wrong you can be to trust anyone these days. Anyway, Chris and I agreed to try to put right everything that needed doing, and didn't really realise at the time just how much work was going to be involved. For the first 3 days Chris worked like a Trojan, using a huge amount of bleach, just to get rid of the dirt and grime on the floors, walls, and even the ceilings, and on a couple of occasions on returning home, was violently sick from the stench. The deep freeze and fridge which were switched off, had been left with food in them, which was well rotten, and the toilet I'll leave to your worst imagination! Eventually she had the place ready to start painting and decorating and got stuck into that. Meanwhile, I made a start on the repair work that needed sorting and it was a long list. To start with, there had a water leak, which Lee, the guy who occupies the upstairs flat, who happens to be a plumber, had traced and sorted. Unfortunately, to find it, he had to dig a large channel in the kitchen floor which is concrete, and so that had to be refilled with sand and cement. That, plus the pieces of skirting board which needed replacing in a couple of rooms, was a doddle. Some of the other jobs I could quite cheerfully left for someone else to do, if anyone would do them! The wall heater and shower in the bathroom, had been completely wrecked, and, as I couldn't budge the screws holding it up, I literally had to dismantle what was left of the shower unit, and break the back plate, before being able to get at the screws with a pair of stillsons to get them out. I got them out and found them to be No.10 steel screws about 3" long, nothing like a bit of overkill! The light in the passage wasn't working, and on checking the switch boxes, I found that one switch was even wired up! I had to renew one of the back boxes because the switch had been screwed in with self-tapping screws rather than the usual 6BA. On trying to rewire the 2way switching I found I was a cable short so it couldn't be done. There was a weighty chandelier light in the lounge which was literally hanging on the two switch leads, no sign of a bracket to take the weight! A double socket in the kitchen was loose so I thought I'd just tighten it up a bit, and found that the plaster board it was mounted on was non existent. I won't bore you with any more of the nightmares I came across, suffice to say I've only scratched the surface, and it took us four long weeks to get everything straight.
You might think that's the end of the story, wrong again. My dad died sadly years ago and so I'm always doing the odd job for Mum from time to time. Although I am the eldest of three siblings, both my brother and sister have lived in different parts of the country, that is, until a couple of years ago when my sister finally put down roots with her husband Ron in Saltash, not far from Mum's house, and Pat, bless her is always there for Mum when she needs her. Anyway, whilst Pat and Mum were chatting one day, it was decided that a change was needed in Mum's place which required moving all the furniture from the front room into the dining room, and vice versa. It was, in point of fact, a logical decision, because the front room (at present) faces north, while the dining room (which is obviously warmer and lighter) faces south, and as Mum spends the majority of her time in the front room, it seemed logical that it should be the most comfortable one. The trouble is, nothing is ever that straight forward, like the fact that in the existing front room the two alcoves had been boxed in with fancy wooden arches which would have to be removed to make room for the two units that needed to be put there. At this point it might be a good idea to explain that this particular house is where I spent my childhood days, but shortly after myself and my brother and sister had flown the nest so to speak, Mum and Dad moved to another house in Saltash where they lived for quite a few years, looking after his mother, her mother, and one of my great aunts. Can you imagine what that must have been like, God, it doesn't bear thinking about, three old ladies under the same roof, it must have been a nightmare! Anyway, I digress, back to the plot. Eventually, when all three dear old ladies had passed on, Mum and Dad started looking to move again and guess what.... they rebought the old house I grew up in! Unfortunately for me, the husband of the family who had been living there, fancied himself at DIY, and someone should have told him very early on that he was clueless. Has anyone ever seen a kitchen worktop which was held together with... not screws.... not even nails.... but the rivets used for patching up car bodywork! Needless to say this plonker had designed and built the wooden archways for the alcoves, and the shelf support units were attached to the wall with 3" masonry nails, so that, even with a crowbar, I ended up breaking them rather than getting them out in one piece! A new cellar door was needed as the old one was rotting and so I made one. I'm not blowing my own trumpet but, when I make something, I try to do do it properly, and one of the tools I used is a square. Something, it would seem, which is not an item in some people's tool kit, because, although my door was square, the hole it had to go in was not! We've almost finished what needs to be done, so hopefully, in the not-too-distant future I'll be able to put my feet up again, and I swear, if I ever come across the cowboys whose work I've had to put right ...............
Had a call from Fran & Joe today (21st) of the Two Tribes club. Chris and I met up with them a few years back when I played for them, and we've been firm friends ever since. I'm booked to play for them on 14th June this year, and it had been arranged that we would go up on the Friday, even though I wasn't playing until the Saturday. Fran called to let me know that the tent we normally sleep in was not going to be available, and was wondering how we were going to overcome the problem. I told her her that it was funny because I was going to give her a ring explaining that we wouldn't be arriving until the Saturday anyway because of the ever-increasing effects of my Hiatus Hernia which makes lying down to sleep a problem without a stack of pillows. I told her we would be there in plenty of time for some socialising, do the gig, and then drive home again. It's going to be a LONG day but it's the lesser of 2 evils. The disappointing part is that, aside from cutting down the time we can spend with the friends we've made, we'll miss out saying hi to Bobby D Sawyer on the Friday night, and Grandpa T (Tony) Smith on the Sunday. C'est la vie.
On a more serious note, I received the following email, which makes me ashamed to admit to being a member of, what is purported to be, the most intelligent species on this planet. The mere fact that, after thousands of years of supposed advancement, it's still necessary to send young men and women to fight for a cause in a strange land, is a sad reflection of how far we've progressed in the grand scheme of things. The message was about the Military fighting overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan and paid tribute to them. I did, in fact, copy it all into a file in Microsoft Word and put it on this page, but on checking it's size (15mb), I had to take it off again because it put me over the website limit! My heartfelt sympathy goes out to everyone of our troops overseas, and their families and friends who wait anxiously at home, it's a crying shame that, even after all those years of, so-called evolution, we still can't get it right.
A few weeks ago I was watching a news item where the newscaster was interviewing a scientist regarding the odds of there being intelligent life elsewhere in the Universe, and the chances of them (if they exist) coming to Earth, and one of the comments the newscaster made summed it up really. He said, "Even if there is intelligent life somewhere else, why would they bother to come here because they wouldn't find any here !" If you sit back and take a good look at what goes on around you on a daily basis, you've got to agree, he hit the nail right on the head, God Help Us.
Sunday 27th April, one of these evenings where I wished I'd stayed home and watched the box. I was playing at the Parkway Club for our good friends of the Renegades/ Medicine Wheel combined club. I set up the gear and on checking the sound found one side of my speakers was down, so I set about tracing the fault, which I eventually found to be a dual track volume control on the power amp. Obviously, over the years, there had been a build-up of dirt which was affecting the tracking in the pot, and I just prayed that giving it a good "wiggle" would get me through the evening. After a couple of attempts I got it working reasonably, but was on edge all night waiting for it to go down again. I seemed to be getting away with it until, in the third set, I played "The Fields of Athenry", which is always popular, and everything was going great until it got to the solo which I had played in using a flute, and it started playing in a completely different key to the rest of the backing. It sounded bloody awful so I had to stop the backing and apologise for the flute player who had obviously had one too many pints of Guiness! How it happened I have no idea, and just to confuse the issue further, the next day, when I set the gear up at home to rectify the faults I had experienced, I played the backing track again, and it played all the way through with no problems whatsoever! One of life's mysteries, but something you can do without when you're trying to entertain people. All I could think at the time was "I'm getting too old for this crap".
I've just had a load of jokes sent to me by Fran bless her and I'll put some on the JOKES page.
Diesels are far more reliable than petrol engines as is reflected in the motor trade prices. They seem to start in any weather conditions which leave petrol engines struggling. In short, if you can afford to pay a bit more, get a diesel you won't regret it, that is until something does go wrong, and then be prepared to dig deep. My old Vauxhall Astra 1.7TD has served me proud and with almost 200,000 on the clock still runs like a dream. Unfortunately all that changed last Friday when we went to leave Mum's place to head back home. I got in, switched on the ignition, waited for the heater plug light to go out, and keyed it to start and .... nothing, it just refused to fire and umpteen attempts made no difference. It was turning over but that was all. It was time to contact the RAC who arrived about an hour later and had no more luck than I did, but at least the guy was able to tell me what, in his opinion, was wrong. There is, what the trade calls, a kill switch in the fuel pump which is opened when you insert the ignition key into the ignition switch via a chip in the key being recognized by a receiver in the switch assembly. It all sounds very technical but boils down to the fact that the fuel pump has got to removed and the faulty solenoid replaced. So next the RAC guy gave me the options I had, being towed home, or to a garage. Luckily, where I live now in St Judes, Plymouth, there is a little garage about 50 yards from my front (or back) door run by a couple of guys who must know what they're doing because they are very popular with all the local hackney cabs, so I chose the "home" option and we drove home in the RAC van with the poorly car on the back. We dropped it off by the garage and Ian, the mechanic, promised to have a look at it as soon as he could. It's a small world because it turns out that his sister Debbie is a friend of ours on the Country Music scene and we'd only been speaking to her a few weeks ago. At the moment I've got everything crossed, fingers, legs you name it, that the problem can be resolved without getting too expensive, I'll let you know......
I've often thought, during the last couple of years, that moving from Saltash into Plymouth has been to my advantage in a lot of ways. Granted I no longer have a scenic view of the River Tamar out of my front room window but that's a small price to pay compared to the advantages gained in other things like being able to forget about the car and walk into Plymouth City Centre in just over 10 minutes, having a small shop which is open all hours literally across the road, a great chippy just down the road, and now a garage about 50 yards from my back gate. I walked over to see how the car was doing and Ian, the mechanic I spoke of earlier had sorted the problem and just needed to do a short test drive before handing it back to me. As anyone who has a car will understand, it's always a bit of a worry when something goes wrong with it, and you don't know what sort of expense is likely to be incurred. As this particular problem involved the fuel pump, a very expensive item, I have to admit to being more than a little worried as to how much I would be forking out. So my delight at getting the car fixed was doubled when Ian told me the bill was £50 when I had been thinking the worst. Needless to say any future problems I'll be taking it straight to him to sort out. I admit I feel a bit guilty that I won't be taking the car to Malcolm in future as he's been very reliable over the years, but when it comes down to the travelling involved to Malc's garage, there's no contest. For example, when I took the car to Malc for a pre MOT one day, and the MOT the next, I clocked best part of 100 miles in the two trips whereas now I can leave the car parked at the back of my flat, walk over to Ian and give him the key, he'll let me know when it's done and I'll walk over and pay the bill. No more sitting around in the middle of nowhere in the rain or cold, definitely a plus!
They sat that "into every life, a little rain must fall", and just when I thought the sun was coming out again the bloody microwave decided to weld Chris' dinner, along with the bowl it was in, to the plate you put things on! There was thick smoke everywhere and it didn't smell very nice either which is understandable so it was a case of open doors and windows to let it blow through. Luckily the weather had been lovely all day and it was still warm in the evening. We sorted it out and then it was a quick trip up the road to Tesco's to buy another one. It would seem that somebody up there is determined that I've got to fork out one way or another, I wonder what comes next.....
Funnily enough, for the past weeks or more I've been having trouble with the Self Care site on Blueyonder (now Virgin Media). To the uninformed it's a site I can log on to to check the daily statistics of my website. How many people are logging on, what they're looking at, what they're downloading etc etc. I do this so that I can get an idea of what you, the readers, are interested in, so that, hopefully, I can keep the website interesting. Anyway over the last 3 weeks or so I've phoned the 0906 number umpteen times and heard all sorts of promises and excuses which haven't amounted to a donkey's fart. The site was "upgraded" a while ago, and hasn't been right since, they're having all sorts of problems. Why the hell they couldn't leave well alone Christ knows, they obviously aren't familiar with the old saying,"If it's working, don't fix it"! At present I have been promised a phone call from their "second-line team", who it would seem are supposed to be the whiz-kids at putting things right when they go wrong. It might not seem to be a big thing to make a fuss about but, it's an integral part of the service supplied by Virgin Media; and one which I, and thousands of others, are paying for so I'm sticking to my guns. I expect many of you have experienced something similar when you've had cause to contact Virgin Media or a similar organisation, it seems most of the time, you feel you're talking to a brick wall for the the satisfaction you're getting. It would seem that the only way you'll get their attention is stop paying for the service until they sort it out. One other small point I'd like to make is regarding the telephone number 0906 212 1111, the number you have to ring when there's a problem. They tell you at the start of the call that you'll be billed for the call unless the outcome of the problem proves to be a fault at their end and not yours. I checked my bill for last month and there were 2 calls to that number at 98p a call that they were billing me for even though I had been told I would not be charged for them, so watch them. Lastly, and I've got a feeling I've written about this before, why the hell do they employ people from foreign countries whose accents you have a job to understand answering the phones. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against people from faraway countries coming to live and work here in the UK, I admire their ambition and determination to make a better life for themselves and learn another language. All I'm saying is, just because you learn another language, it doesn't necessarily follow that you can speak it fluently, which would appear to be the case with the majority of the people being used as telephone operators. It obviously boils down to the crap wages being paid for doing the job which is yet another sad example of the bloody society we live in. "Value for Money" is no longer in the English Dictionary.
Further to my last entry, I have been on the phone to Virgin Media again and, at long last, been given a very reasonable explanation for the problems I have been experiencing. It appears that when Virgin Media took over Telewest Blueyonder and two other companies they inherited a load of problems because of the differences in the operating systems of said companies, and are at present climbing a huge mountain trying to bring all the systems together into one which will be efficient for all users. I wish them all the luck in the world, and in the meantime the likes of us will have to bite the bullet until it's all done. Another point which came to light during our conversation is that Virgin Media have offices all over the world, and often, when you ring the 0906 number, if the main office in Liverpool are snowed under with calls, you could be connected to an office in India or wherever, which goes a long way to explaining why you could be talking to someone with a very strong accent which you've got a job to understand. I haven't yet worked out why it's done that way and I don't suppose I ever will because I'm what you might call a "homeboy" who has never really felt the urge to visit faraway places. Hell I haven't really seen that much of the UK let alone the rest of the world. The trip we took to Nashville is the farthest I've ever ventured and I won't be fussed if I never do anything like it again.
Had a phone call from Fran who, with Joe, runs the Two Tribes CWC, a great club that I've had the pleasure to play for over the years. It was regarding the booking in June that I mentioned a while back and it was to say that unfortunately, through lack of support on the booking of caravans etc for the weekend, she had no choice but to cancel the event which was a shame because it's always a good do. I tried to console her as she was extremely upset at having to cancel all the entertainment but as I said, the money to pay artistes has got to come from somewhere, and if you ain't got bums on seats, you ain't gonna git any. The sad part is this little episode is it's a reflection of how things are going with the majority of clubs and I feel for anyone trying to make a living touring around because, if the downward trend continues, there's not going to be enough venues to go round. Another thing you can thank bloody Brown and his cronies for because, let's face it, the no smoking ban was the final nail in the coffin for clubs that were already struggling to survive. I don't get around much nowadays but wherever I've been it's plain as the nose on your face. I had to laugh at a bit on the telly where they interviewed people in different communities about the lack of neighbourhood spirit and one old guy who was 80 odd and lived in a house in this village all his life didn't even know the name of the people next door! Sadly signs of the times we live in and it's a downward spiral it's going to be extremely difficult to get out of. It's at times like this I'm glad I'm an old bugger because I wouldn't want to be a youngster nowadays, if you think of all the negatives you haven't really got a snowballs chance in hell. I'm off for a cup of tea and a fag!
Fran may have been a bit down re having to cancel the gig in June but she's still got her sense of humour... check out the latest addition to the JOKES page!
The saying goes "bad luck always comes in threes", well, I' ve got news for you, it ain't necessarily so as you'll see here. First, the DVD player/recorder started playing silly buggers, kicking out halfway through a film; then I got caught speeding; then the car wouldn't start as I explained recently; and then just to be awkward, the bloody microwave went manic and welded a plastic microwave approved bowl and it's contents, Chris's tea, to the Pirex plate filling the kitchen with smoke! Needless to say it was knackered after that so I had to go out and buy another one, but what caused it to go apeshit is anyone's guess. Let's hope things are back to normal with no more rude surprises for a while. Funnily enough, I had a chat on the phone with my old mate Bobby Jones, and he's had a bit of a run of bad luck too, but that's not strictly true because on one of the incidents there's two ways of looking at it. He'd driven to a gig, parked up, unloaded and set up his gear, played the gig, and was packing everything away when somebody came up to him and said he'd better go out and have a look at his car. When he went out and inspected it he noticed that it seemed to be listing badly to one side at the front, and a closer inspection revealed that one of the main suspension springs had broken. When I said there were two ways of looking at it this is what I meant. The spring had snapped while the car was parked up which is strange to say the least, but imagine what would have happened if he'd been doing sixty when it happened, it doesn't bear thinking about! The other incident could and should have been avoided. He'd driven 90 miles to play at a Sports Club somewhere only to find when he arrived the venue that it was all boarded up. It turned out that the bloody club had closed down 2 weeks before and nobody had bothered to tell him! I won't repeat his words but I know exactly where he's coming from because most of us with a few miles under our belts have been down a similar road at some stage in our careers, I suppose you could say it's occupational hazard but to me it's just a crap attitude and should never be allowed. If the shoe was on the other foot and he hadn't bothered to show up for the gig, there would have been a right song and dance and Bobby's name would have been mud, but it has always seemed that it's alright to treat the artistes like shit because they're ten a penny.
I had another phone call, this one was from Gwyndaf (formerly part of Closing Time, presently part of Kickback Country). It was great to hear from him as we hadn't spoken for quite a while and there was a lot of catching up to be done. One of the things he told me could well be the death knell for those still trying to make a living touring around the country. He and his mate had driven from North Wales to Ipswich to do a gig and it cost them £113 in diesel! With the dwindling numbers in membership in the clubs because of the no smoking and the ridiculous rise in the price of drinks, how the hell can you pass on the extra travel expense to clubs that can't cover it. Deep down in my gut I firmly believe this is the beginning of the end.
On a happier subject, (for me anyway), I've treated myself to a new toy. For several years I have been using a great digital camera, a Panasonic DMC-FZ5, which has served me well. The only drawback has been it's size. Don't get me wrong, it's not huge, it's a normal size digital camera, but there have been many occasions when I've thought "I can't be bothered with the hassle of carrying it". Then, out of the blue, I had an email from Gizoo, an Internet company that specialise in "boys toys", offering me a tiny digital camera that you slip into your pocket and take with you anywhere. It interested me enough to do a search on Google for reviews on the camera but the reviews I found warned me off that particular model, so I had a look on Ebay for something similar. I found a Canon SD1000 Powershot advertised which looked very promising so, once again, I searched Google for independent reviews, and all the reviews I read praised this unit highly, so I bought it. The offer included several bonus gifts which, when I priced them all up, made the camera an even more attractive deal. Anyway, the camera with all the extras arrived and I wasn't just impressed, I was utterly gobsmacked at the amount of technology they'd packed into something the size of a credit card! For the more technically minded it is a 7.1megapixel camera, which is nearly half as big again as my Panasonic, and has umpteen facilities including crystal-clear video which is amazing. With the 4gig memory card which was one of the bonus gifts you can click forever, and being the size of a credit card and 18mm thick, there's no excuse for leaving it sitting on the desk when you're going anywhere.
Today (27th May) we're recovering from a hectic Bank Holiday Monday which we spent travelling up from Plymouth to Court Farm (near Weston-Super-Mare) to play for the Big W on the last evening of their Roundup. After a week of good weather, on the day we could have done without it, we had to drive the 100 plus miles up and back in bad weather, torrential at times. To make matters worse there was a massive traffic build-up from Junction 24 on which lead to a stop - start journey over the last 20 odd miles. Luckily, the weather abated for the time we were at Court Farm and we spent an enjoyable afternoon and evening in the company of our good friends Ramrod & Di, and Steve & Mary, and it was great to see and talk to a lot of friends we hadn't seen in quite a while. The Big W Westerners are very "family orientated" much like the Tamar Valley Westerners, and it's great to see so many young people taking part. At the back of the farm they've built a western town with a jail and a church etc and during the afternoon we were treated to a look around the shacks that Ramrod and Steve had built and it was like stepping back in time. The venue for the evening's entertainment was a huge barn which makes a great setting but was, unfortunately, like playing in a fridge, and it took me a while to get my fingers warmed up playing my guitar. When I look back at some of the places I've played like the decks of ships, in open fields, tents, you name it, it was another reminder that I'm not as young as I was and by the end of the evening it certainly felt that way. Add that to a 100 plus mile drive home in torrential rain it's not hard to understand why I felt a trifle knackered. Just to add insult to injury, we drove into a very dense belt of fog at Haldon Hill near Exeter and were reduced to 35mph as it was a job to see the front of the car, let alone the road it was on, and so it was a welcome relief to finally arrive home at 2am, off-load the gear, and have a well-earned cuppa before falling into bed.
Having just watched an item on News 24 relating to the facts surrounding a broken toilet on a space station orbiting the Earth, I couldn't help but laugh at the picture it brought to mind. Just imagine you're up in space and you have to use the loo. You do the business, pull the flush, and wash your hands etc etc. Here on Earth the waste goes down through the sewer and ends up, (hopefully), at a waste recycling plant, but where does it go up there???? My warped sense of humour presented me with a mental picture of bits being shot out into space to float around for eternity and splat on the windscreens of passing shuttles. I've heard of bird shit on your car windscreen but the other doesn't bear thinking about!
Monday 9th June, and not really very much to report on the music scene. I played for the Tamar Valley Westerners last night, my first gig since Court Farm, and noticed that a few faces were missing but it was just down to people being away on holidays etc. As usual, I tried to play all the favourites songs of different members, including the "Red Hot Salsa" which is Regan's (Lin & Lawrence's grand-daughter) favourite. She's only 5 and has loved to get up and dance to that song literally since she was able to walk, but I could see last night, that she now has it off to a "T", and will be a great asset to the Ladie's Dance section in the near future. As I said before, it's great to see youngsters growing up with a love of the Country scene and carrying on their traditions. I had a few "funnies" with the PA but can't really expect any other because, nowadays the gear spends more time in the cupboard than it does on stage! It was probably just that the circuitry was a bit damp and needed to heat up a bit and dry out but, after an uneasy start, everything settled down and behaved itself and I had a good night. Even going out for a smoke during the breaks was fine because it was a warmish night and you weren't freezing yours nuts off which made a change. I've always said, the bloody Government were crafty as a bag of monkeys introducing the "No Smoking" ban in July when the weather is supposedly warmer. I think if they'd done it in November or whatever, there would have been a lot more reaction, but by the time it started to get colder it was well established. Still, the way things are going it's not really going to matter one way or the other because, with the rocketing price of fuel, the ever-increasing price of drinks etc, people won't be going out anyway!
I had an expensive visit to the optician's recently. It was only April last year that I bought a new pair of glasses but I've never really felt comfortable with them, mainly because, being the smaller, supposedly more fashionable frames, I'm always aware of the frame when I look through them. Anyway, whatever the reason, I decided that, as I'm wearing them all day every day, it would pay me to get something different, and opted for rimless. I explained to the examining optician the problems I had been experiencing with my existing glasses, and the resulting examination took quite a time, even Chris commented on how long it took! Even the assistant who had to set the frame adjustment had her measurements double-checked by the optician and a more senior assistant, so, hopefully, I won't get any more problems when I get them. I say "when" because, being categorized as special needs, these particular lenses are not carried in stock and have to be ordered, but you still have to pay up front which is understandable, and, with discount for Pension Credit etc, they still cost me £324. I think in my next life I'll make glasses because it never ceases to amaze me how expensive it is for a couple of pieces of reinforced plastic!
I would like to spend a little time and pay tribute to my kid brother Dave. He is, in my humble opinion, an incredible example of how some individuals can display more courage and fortitude in dire situations, than most of us are capable of imagining. It all started literally with a sore throat, which, after a series of bad diagnoses, turned out to be cancer in the back of his tongue. Of course, by the time they got it right, the damage was done, and the tongue was damaged beyond repair and that, together with a load of treatment including chemo-therapy, signalled the end of solid food for Dave, and a sketchy forecast as to how long he could hope to be a living member of the human race. What nobody took into consideration was my brother's strength of will and determination to beat the odds stacked so heavily against him. He taught himself to speak, which without a tongue is a feat of extraordinary proportions, and even continued his love of participating in kareoke! Normally it is the younger brother who looks up to his big brother but I have the greatest respect and admiration for Dave who is, not only a lot more intelligent than I am, but has shown a level of courage and determination reserved only for a very special chosen few among us. His latest hobby is writing poetry and he gave me a booklet containing a collection of his work so far. He, like me, has always had an interest in English Language, probably down to Mr Jones, our Primary School teacher, who gave us a great start on the subject, and gave us the desire to be able to express ourselves fluently. I can imagine if Mr Jones, sadly deceased, was around to receive text messages on his mobile phone, he would put a line through it and text back "REWRITE!", but I digress. Having read Dave's booklet of poems I thought it would be good to put one on this page and you can come to your own conclusions, so here, together with Dave's words of introduction, is one of his renditions:
Introduction. At the time of writing, (June 2008), I'm a sixty-three year old survivor of cancer. I don't want to make too much of that fact and I'm certainly not looking for the sympathy vote. I mention it to explain the nature of some of my poems in order that no-one is upset by their content. In fact, one of my thoughts in assembling this rather peculiar melange is that, should anyone find themselves facing what I've been through, it may give them them and their friends and carers a bit of a smile and maybe even encouragement. Some might think it's a bit late in life to start something new but my attitude is, why not? So, here goes. I hope you enjoy...
The Art of Writing Poetry
I don't know if you're int'rested in letters set in rhyme, I began to do it recently now it happens all the time
At first it was quite difficult to find a word to fit, but like most things, it does in fact, get easier bit by bit
My first attempt, some years ago, was an ode for my wife Chris which I felt was a masterpiece with my usual hubris
For that great word I had to search my online thesaurus, and "Arrogance" is what it means in case you're thick - like us
I didn't try it any more until a month ago, as we approached my Mum's birthday - a fabulous nine o
Yes, ninety years she's been around and this I had to mark with something quite original, and then I felt this spark
A flash of inspiration just came to me one day, so I sat down to set to rhyme the words I had to say
Our daughter's birthday then came next, two days before my Mum and, because I'd started soon enough, I had time to spare - and some
By now, of course, the die was cast and poems were expected for every member of the tribe considered close connected
The question now I have to ask is where does this all end? I really think I'd struggle to compose for every friend
But just for now I quite enjoy the challenge and the effort of finding words to suit the time, and a rhyme that works of some sort
So, as it stands, I'll write again when need and mood combine and hope that someone out there thinks it fair, this work of mine
"Why did he bother?" some will ask when considering my poem, but if, in time, I come to fame, I can say then that'll show 'em
If just one soul finds what I write engenders some emotion, or has some bearing on their journey over life's great ocean
Then I can feel my time well-spent and my offering worth making especially since this really is a personal undertaking
To discover just how well I cope and, without giving myself airs, discover if I have the knack like my heroine, Pam Ayres
So if, dear reader, you've been moved and feel you'd like to try to emulate what you have read then there's no reason why
You shouldn't do much more than me, 'cos I'm just a beginner at setting out my thoughts in rhyme, but you could be a winner
Next time that you sit down to write a letter to a friend, why don't you see if you can choose some words with the same end
To make them rhyme and scan just right and long before you know it, I'm sure you'll find that, just like me, you've now become a poet!
Having composed quite a few songs including lyrics which are, in fact, musical poetry, I was impressed by the above, and the rest of the booklet's contents, and if any of you who read this echo my sentiments, I feel sure it can be arranged should you want to read more of his works. All I can say is,"Good one mate, keep up the good work!" and now, something completely different.....
Gents, are you fed up with hearing your other half talking about healthy diets and the extra inches which seem to be accumulating? Just show her this bit of video and you should be guaranteed a bit of peace & quiet.......... Red Hot Salsa (click)
Have you ever heard about that dream where you're at one end of a long narrow corridor and you can see the other end but it seems a long way away? You start walking and the other end of the corridor never seems to get any closer no matter how long or fast you walk, it's still a long way off. I've found out what it means because I'm experiencing it at the moment with Virgin Media! Part of the package I (and everyone else who deals with them) get is a website called SelfCare, which is website you can visit to check the statistics of your web pages. It's extremely useful to be able to log on to this site and see at a glance how many people have logged on, what they're looking at, and what they're looking for, it gives you a good idea as to what sort of thing you should include in your write-ups. Unfortunately, for the best part of 2 months, apart from the odd day now and then, I haven't been able to log on as the site is down, and after umpteen phone calls and letters, I'm no farther forward than I was when I started! I've had a wide variety of reasons why, excuses, empty promises and conversations with people in India that I can't understand, and I'm sick of it. The final straw was an email from Virgin Media informing me that the contents of my website was nearing the maximum limit, which was like showing a red rag to a bull. Here's the message I received, followed by my reply to said message:
Dear mikeaguitarman,As of this morning your website is 95% full. You are using 55872 KBytes of your limit of 56320 KBytes.I sent back the following...
This is either a wind-up which is in extremely bad taste considering recent events and my current opinion of "the team at Virgin Media" whose inability to do their job defies description OR, just goes to prove that the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing in the Virgin Media organization. I followed the link in this message in the hope that at long last I might be able to gain access to the Self Care site, but, silly me for trying as I STILL CAN'T LOG ON, A SITUATION THAT HAS PREVAILED FOR THE BEST PART OF TWO MONTHS. I am fed up to the back teeth with all the excuses I get when I try phoning in the fault, fed up with the "brick wall attitude" I get when I try to go up through the chain of command, and am seriously contemplating suspending my monthly direct debit to Virgin Media UNTIL THE FAULT IS FIXED. As you so rightly say, the SelfCare site is part of a service I'm paying for, and I'm not getting it so, FINGERS OUT GUYS AND DO WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO - FIX IT !!!!!!
Virgin Media's response was to send me another email, this time an "auto response" offering different avenues for notifying them of the problem, one of which was going onto the Virgin Media website and filling out a proforma. I went to the site and found that none of the items listed came even close to the problem I had, so I tried another option, a telephone number they supplied, and the number was no longer available! As you can imagine, by this time I've got steam coming out of my ears, but I was determined not to leave the matter unresolved and so I did it the long way, I wrote them a letter.......
Dear Sir / Madam, or whatever robot happens to be in charge when this letter of complaint gets read.Where it goes from here is anybody's guess but I'll keep you posted.
On a more sombre note, I saw on the News today that Primark were being hauled over the coals for selling clothes that had been made by children in the poverty-stricken areas of India. Much as I abhor the thought of child slavery like this I think the media ought wake up and smell the roses. This practice, along with others of a far more sinister fashion, have been going on forever, and as long as Joe Public buys stuff on the cheap there'll be a market for it. Primark have been targeted in this instance but, let's face it, they're all at it and sadly, trying to put an end to the practice would be an almost impossible task human nature being what it is. In the so-called civilized parts of the world we all make the right noises of reproof but life goes on and it's soon forgotten. Just close your eyes and try to imagine the kind of existence some people have to cope with and thank your lucky stars it's not you.
Finally, some new additions to the JOKES page, thanks to Foxy.
I've got to admit that, like a lot of people, I'm an Ebay freak, and if I'm looking for something, that's usually the first place I'll have a look. A couple of days ago I decided that I wanted to upgrade my mobile phone. The one I have using for a few years is a Sony Ericsson P900, which is a great phone but has a couple of disadvantages. The largest external memory stick it will accept is 64 meg which is useless if you want to put on a load of mp3's, and the battery life isn't too hot. With this in mind I did a search on Google with those criteria in mind and it came up with another Sony Ericsson, the W850i. As I'm not really into what the P900 is capable of, and this phone was literally a radio and mp3 player with a huge amount of battery time, this is what I started looking for. Brand-new they retail at anything up to £250, hence the search on Ebay. I found a couple, one black one and one white one (I know, and with with a bit of shite on), and decided that I liked the look of the white one so I started watching it to see how the bidding was going. I also kept an eye on the black one just out of curiosity. It was strange because, where the bidding on the black one went up steadily, there were no bids for the white one which was in "as new" condition, whereas the black one had a few marks through wear & tear. With less than an hour to go I placed the opening bid asked for and waited. As the black phone auction was due to finish about 5 minutes before the white one, I kept an eye on how the bidding was going, and with about 3 minutes to go, the fun started. The bid jumped from £37 to £100, then to £150, then to £400, and finished on £410!I felt sorry for the seller, because it was obviously somebody's sick idea of a joke and meant that, if the seller wanted to sell the phone, he or she would have to start all over again, or offer it as a second chance to the highest bidder before the idiots jumped in. Needless to say, my backside was twitching when I went back to the one I'd bid on, just in case it started happening there as well! Thankfully the final 5 minutes passed without incident and I won the phone, in fact I was the only bidder which was ideal, and have been in contact with the seller and it's on it's way. As a matter of further curiosity I pulled up the site of the black phone today and saw that the bogus buyer, a certain "tommyrose12345" is no longer registered with Ebay. That's as may be, he was on long enough to bugger up some poor sod's day!
Sunday 29th June, a celebration with the Tamar Valley Westerners to Derek, (son of founder members Lin & Lawrence), who'd reached the big 40. It was great for Chris & I because the entertainment for this auspicious occasion was being provided by Terry Maher who we hadn't seen in a long time. We made a point of getting there in plenty of time so we could sit and chat to Terry and his lovely wife Bonny. He had been playing at Gareth's festival in Tumble the same weekend alongside my old mates Bobby Jones, Mel and Mary, and Sherri & Steel, so I got all the latest news. Funnily enough, I'd received a new CD from Bobby a couple of days ago with a letter promising to contact me after he and Anthea got back home from the Tumble Festival. We may be hundreds of miles apart but we always keep in touch, that what friends are for. Anyway, it was a good evening and, for us, the star of the show was Derek's young daughter Regan, who is officially now a member of the Confederates, and proudly took part in the Trilogy at the end of the evening and did her parents, grand-parents, and everyone else proud. She really was a star, and reflected the true spirit of these Westerners, well done sweetheart!
To all mobile phone users, and let's face it, that covers just about everybody these days, you might find this interesting. Have you ever had a phone was originally on contract to people like Orange or Vodaphone, and has all their crap on it as well as the maker's? Well, what you probably didn't know is that all that extra rubbish might be conflicting with the manufacturer's specifications and, if you decided, as I did, to opt for pay-as-you-go, you can get all the extra stuff removed to make the phone more efficient. It's called De-Branding, and the list of advantages is a mile long. I got the W850i mobile, which I bought recently, unlocked locally, and happened to mention to the guy who did it, how nice it would be to get rid of all the Vodaphone crap that was on there. He told me it could be done but was expensive and not really worth the cost. My curiosity was aroused so I did a search on Google and found firms advertising their capabilities of doing this de-branding so I dug deeper and found to my disgust that I could have not only had the phone unlocked, but de-branded as well for the same money I'd paid just to get it unlocked! Of the two sites I checked, one stood head & shoulders above the other as it had a telephone number readily available that you could ring and talk to somebody about any queries. I rang the number and spoke with a guy who was very pleasant and down-to-earth, and he was extremely helpful to boot. He talked me through the procedure necessary and suggested that, if I didn't really fancy trying to do it myself, I could send the phone to them and they would do it and send it back to me. I opted for this method and duly packaged up the phone and sent it to them on Monday afternoon with a cheque. I found after doing this that I could have used Paypal, so the next morning I phoned them again explaining that the phone was on it's way with a cheque payment, and as I didn't really want to wait for the cheque to be cleared for payment, I would go on line and pay via Paypal. The guy on the other end of the phone told me not to worry, the phone would be done the same day it was received and posted off same day back to me. True to his word the phone was back with me today (Wednesday) all done and working far better than it did before. Gone are the Vodaphone icons and all the other garbage and it's back to the condition it was in when it came out of Sony Ericsson's factory. Anyone interested in checking out their very comprehensive site should go to; www.fonefunshop.co.uk it's well worth a visit.
Just had a good ol' chat with Foxy who's back home after the Tumble Festival where he was in charge of Security as always. His good lady, Doreen, who's had her fair share of bad luck one way or another, had a nasty fall and broke her wrist! Poor Dor, she's been through the grinder enough without having that to contend with, hope you're better soon darlin'. I'd already had snippets about the weekend after talking with Terry Maher last Sunday night and "my adopted son" Chris James, last night, so Foxy filled in the gaps, especially regarding the antics he and John (the DJ) got up to when Mel Paul & Mary Lacey were on stage. The trouble is, Mary's got a mischievious streak, and John and Foxy are always game for a laugh. The weekend went well from all accounts with one little incident which left a bad taste in Foxy's mouth, and on hearing what it was, I must admit that I agree with him. The last thing you expect when going to a Country Music Festival is to find thing's going missing because Westerners have always had the reputation of being an honest bunch and, let's face it, it should apply where-ever you go (but unfortunately doesn't). On this occasion it wasn't anything valuable, just a tea-towel sized Welsh flag that had been placed on the bar by Foxy, but it went walkies when it shouldn't have. Foxy asked around and, with the help of a member of the barstaff, and a CCTV camera, was able to see the thief in action, a woman who shall remain nameless. As I said, it was only a tuppeny-ha'penny item but there's a principal involved. Let's face it, if they'll nick something like that, imagine somebody leaving a wallet lying around. You might say, with something like that, they'd hand it in as Lost Property, but then again, Pigs might Fly! The galling part of it to Foxy is, he knows who did it, she knows he knows who did it. but she brassed it out and didn't say a word, but take it from me, if I know Foxy, he'll have the last laugh, say no more!
I have recently watched a TV documentary about the unfortunate demise that befell Buddy Holly and the other unfortunates who sadly died in that horrific plane crash, and a TV film dedicated to the rise to fame of the Beatles. Both of these events happened shortly after I had decided that going on tour was not really beneficial to my health (physically, mentally or financially). Our band, like all the others doing the same thing, was bouncing around the country in ever-decreasing circles with no rhyme or reason it seemed except putting money into the agent's pocket because we certainly didn't make much at it with all the expenses we were forking out. Over the years I have talked with different artistes who are still touring, and it would appear without a doubt that agents nowadays are no better than they were over 40 years ago. They're still the same greedy robbing bastards who couldn't give a shit about the artistes as long as the money rolls in. Silly me for thinking things could change.
I've never been one for celebrating Birthdays. Over the years I've been on stage as usual and, on many occasions, been asked to play "Happy Birthday" for someone in the audience! So, after opening the cards I received from family members and good friends, imagine my surprise when, on checking my emails I found that my baby brother (well, he's only 64) had spent time composing the following poem:
I’ve thought about it long and hard, because you are my brother, Does this mean that you qualify for a rhyme just like our mother?
Needless to say I was touched and extremely chuffed that Dave took the time to write it and I will treasure it. Who knows, if he gets all his poems published, I could be related to a real celebrity! No matter what, in my mind, he's a tower of strength when I think about what he's gone through and continues to battle with.
Ironically, (not having played for a while), I'm playing today on my birthday, never mind eh!
We drove the 70 odd miles to West Buckland without incident and found the Village Hall with no problems. Getting the gear in was a doddle and I was set up and ready to go with loads of time to spare. I had been told by Freda, who booked me, that, although it was a Country Music club, they like a good helping of Rock'n Roll, so I did my best to oblige, and played songs I haven't done in a long long time. The only problem was, although I still had the backing tracks I'd laid down years ago, I didn't have any song sheets showing me the lyrics and the structure of the song, so I was definitely flying by the seat of my pants, and needless to say the mistakes came thick and fast. Not that the dancers seem to mind, they had great time and joked about it saying "Well, at least it proves you're playing live music". Although I must admit I enjoyed the gig, it's not something I would want to do too often. Belting out Jerry Lee Lewis, Chuck Berry etc is fine when you're in your 20's - 30's, but it sure takes it out of you when you're the wrong side of 60! Needless to say, the shirt I was wearing was saturated, and the sweat was stinging my eyes. I have always perspired a lot, and have a lot of salt on my meals to replace what I lose sweating. Unfortunately, it's a vicious circle because I then sweat more salt out and so on and so on. The other thing that always tickles me is, it must look pretty comical to see a grey-haired old git like me thumping out "Great Balls of Fire", especially when I think I was doing these songs when they were first released! I had to laugh recently when Scott, my mate, told me about a live concert they'd been to, to see (hang on, I'm having a senior moment, what was the name again? Ah yes..) Meatloaf. Scott was saying it was dire, and he felt embarrassed watching this so-called superstar trying to do the songs that made him famous, and let's face it, in the run of things Meatloaf is still a youngster! I'd be very interested to know just how many guys of my era are still doing it. One who does spring to mind is Mel Paul, who joined Screaming Lord Sutch's band the "Savages" as a drummer the year after our band at that time had toured with them. Of course, all who know Mel Paul & Mary Lacey will know that now he plays guitar and would seem to have given up the noble art of knocking 7 bells out of pigskin. Another local character in Plymouth area is my good friend Dave Cawse who formed the Country band "Medicine Bow" many years ago, a band that became a household name in the Country Music scene. Dave still dabbles and occasionally goes out with a 5-6 piece band which he puts together. Unfortunately, in this day and age, the big bands are not much in demand because the clubs, with their dwindling membership, cannot find the necessary funds. If there are any guys (or gals) out there who are in their mid 60's, and they're still playing, I'd love to hear from you.
Again, my apologies for the lack of entries lately, but, with one thing and another, we've had a busy time. Mum has been very poorly over the last few weeks, and at the tender age of 90, has been a bit of a major concern. My faith in the NHS has never been that strong and events of the last couple of weeks have only borne out my opinions on certain aspects of the organisation and job dedication of certain departments. Things more or less came to a head when, having seen a replacement doctor (because her's was on maternity leave), it was arranged that she was to be taken to Derriford Hospital by ambulance, for x-rays on her hip to try to find the cause of the immense pain she was experiencing. So, the Friday before last we went to see her at home where she was sat waiting with Pat, my sister, for the ambulance to turn up. Up to the time we said our fond farewells it hadn't shown up, and on contacting my sister around tea-time, discovered that it didn't turn up period. It seems that Pat, had finally phoned the hospital to ask the whereabouts of said ambulance, only to be told that, because of a bad traffic accident somewhere, it would not be available to take Mum to the Hospital. That part, although unfortunate, was understandable. What I couldn't understand is why use an ambulance in the first place when a Hospital Car could have done the job. It turned out in the end that my sister had to take Mum to the Hospital in her own car, which, if she'd been kept informed by the Hospital, she could have hours earlier, because, as a result of the time delay, they had to sit in a busy corridor for hours before a slot was available in the X-ray department. They finally arrived back home around 10pm, tired and fed up and, to really rub salt in the wound, no further forward in the diagnosis of the problem because the resulting X-rays had not helped one bit, except to eliminate the possibility of any broken bones. Mum had been referred back to the GP for further investigation which was another factor that rubbed me up the wrong way. It would seem that "forward thinking" is not part of the vocabulary in the Hospital because,,in my mind, if one team of so-called experts can't find out what's wrong, they would pass the ball on to someone who might be a bit more in the know on that particular part of the body. When I voiced my displeasure regarding how things were being conducted, my sister recommended that I bite my tongue, and not cause any unpleasantness which might reflect in the future handling of Mum's problems. Unfortunately, (or fortunately as it turned out), I have always been very outspoken, and to me, as a song I composed says, "A Spade's A Spade", and so, much against everyone's wishes, I started making waves. I contacted the Doctor's Surgery and found the name of the one handling Mum's present predicament, and arranged to go and see him to voice my concerns on certain things. As it turned out, I never got to meet him because that day, while we were over Mum's the phone rang and it was the doctor that I'd arranged to go and see. After a brief conversation with my sister Pat, he asked if I was there, and, if so, could he have a word with me, and so we had an in-depth conversation on the phone re my concerns and he agreed with every criticism I made of the treatment done to date. From the moment our telephone conversation ended, thing's started to happen. The doctor visited Mum at home later that day and it was arranged that she would spend some time in Hospital where, she would not only receive the care and attention she needed, but she would visited by various specialists in an attempt to diagnose what exactly was wrong. She is still in Hospital, but there has been a marked improvement in her well-being on the whole even though the problem hasn't been solved. Other aspects of my conversation with the Doctor will also be brought into play when she does finally get home which, after all is said and done, is all I thought was necessary in the first place. All I can say is, there are times when I'm glad I am who I am because, sad as it is to say it, there are times when you need to be that way because if you don't make waves, nobody'll do it for you!
On a lighter note, we've had company this weekend in the form of our adopted children Chris James and Dawn. We met around 5 or so years ago and have been great friends ever since even though there's a huge age gap and we're old enough to be their mother and father. It was obvious from day one that Chris and I are kindred spirits where music is concerned so we have a very strong bond and, as time went on, although we live in different parts of the UK, we would all four be like a family, hence, when Dawn started calling us "Ma & Da" it stuck! This particular weekend came about because our good friends Bobby Jones and Anthea, who were due to visit us, were unable to come which was a shame because, like Chris and Dawn, we only get to meet up once in a blue moon. Another unfortunate part was that Bobby was due to play for the Tamar Valley Westerners that particular Sunday and had sadly had to cancel the gig. So it was that, knowing that sadly they wouldn't be down to see us or do the gig at the Tamar Valley Westerners, my Chris's positive thinking kicked in and she suggested, "Why not contact Chris and Dawn to see what they were doing on that particular weekend. First we contacted Lawrence and Lin who run the Westerners and voiced the suggestion that Chris James, who had never played there before, might be available to do the gig in Bobby's place but we'd have to find out first if he was available. Anyway, it all turned out right because Chris and Dawn came down, stayed with us for a couple of nights, and Chris did the gig for the Tamar Valley Westerners on the Sunday night. They arrived Saturday afternoon after a terrible drive down through the holiday traffic which explodes onto the M5 at this time of year, and were then able to put their feet up and relax while we caught up on everything that had been going on. The weather wasn't very amenable so we didn't manage to go anywhere but it was nice just to sit and chat about anything and everything. Chris asked about the Tamar Valley Westerners club and I filled him in on how things were done there including certain songs that he should try to include in his repertoire if possible. It's always a bit of a worry for artistes due to play at a new venue, what sort of crowd are they, what sort of music do they like etc etc, but I assured Chris he would thoroughly enjoy himself, and he'd go down a storm with the crowd who I've had the pleasure of knowing and playing for for a long long time. Of course, it works the other way as well because the club members are unfamiliar with the artiste, so they curious as to how the evening's going to turn out, but, as I knew it would, the evening was a great success from the moment Chris started singing, and Lin was talking about getting Chris back again for more gigs! One of the songs I prepped Chris to play was "The Red Hot Salsa" as I explained about it being Regan's (Lawrence& Lin's grand-daughter's) favourite dance and, when he announced it, she was out on the dance floor like a shot! Another proud moment during the evening for grand-dad Lawrence was when he presented Regan with a certificate which stated she was now an official member of the club's American Trilogy team. The whole evening was as good as I had forecasted it would be and Chris, having given the members a great night's entertainment, was more then happy to do it all again at some time in the (not too distant we hope) future. One other thing to mention is that Chris has another website that you can visit. It's at www.chrisjamescountry.co.uk but please be a little patient because it's still under construction.
I've just received a picture of the write-up about the Welshpool Festival published by Ken Dyche in his "Crazy Cowboy" magazine, in which he supposedly covers Country Music Festivals in the area and comments on the artistes appearing at said festivals. I won't bother to publish it because it seems that he was more interested in griping about the price of a cup of tea than the performances of any of the guys and gals performing there. I wonder why he bothers to go or, if he does intend to be there, might I humbly suggest that he takes a flask and some sandwiches. Maybe profits on the magazine are not all they could be, I wonder why!
Another 4 years has passed (where does the time go), and it's the Olympics again, time for the "armchair athletes" to exercise their tonsils! I must confess that I'm not a fan, not that I didn't participate in my younger days, in fact I tried my hand at a lot of things, football, hockey, running, long jump, necking behind the bicycle shed, etc. Then later, swimming, scupa diving, water polo, life saving, the list goes on. I even did archery, but I was asked to leave the club because I was using an Apollo steel long bow with an anchor strain of 40lbs, and my aluminium arrows were going through the targets and sticking out the back! Nowadays I'm more of a "highlights" person, I like to see the result but can't be hassled with watching it all the way through much to my Chris's disgust because she loves watching it all. Never mind, each to his/her own.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I played for our old friends "The Renegades" down at the Parkway Club last Sunday (10th Aug) and it was nice to see them after quite a long while. The "Medicine Wheel" contingency of the combination of clubs was absent, probably because they've just finished a 2 week camp-out of the "Authentics" at Newnham Park on the outskirts of Plymouth. Still, although numbers were down, it was a good night, and I did my best to remember to play all their favourite songs.
Tuesday 12th & Wednesday 13th of August, the National Fireworks Competition took place on Plymouth Hoe, so, on the Wednesday evening Chris & I walked in to watch the display armed with a couple of flasks of tea and some munchies. The advantage of living where I do now is that it's only about a 20 minute walk to get there and, bearing in mind the amount of cars trying to get there, this is a great advantage. We arrived, along with a few thousand other people, in time to claim our usual vantage spot which gave us a great view of the displays and settled down to wait about 30 minutes for the first of three 10 minute displays. Dead on 9.30pm the signal rocket went up for the first display and, at the end of that one, there was about about a ten minute break before the next, and so on. All three displays were very good, but we both agreed that the 3rd one was the best. Each team uses an awesome amount of fireworks, probably thousands of pounds-worth, and it's all all free to the public, certainly makes a pleasant change, getting something for nothing! When it was all over, we had to fight our way through the huge crowd to get home but managed with no trouble at all. Luckily, the weather was kind to everyone, considering what it's been like lately, and it was ideal for the displays with clear skies and very little wind. I found out that, out of the six teams taking part over the two evenings, the team we picked as winners did in fact win the competition, and, although I don't know the name of the company, it turns out that they're based in Wales. I know that they all write off the displays as incurred expenses on their Income Tax but I would love to have had the amount of money that any one of them had literally sent up in smoke that night!
From rumours I have heard, it would appear that, not all the hypocrites are members of Parliament, some of them are members of the Chinese Olympic committee! Anyone who watched the 2008 Opening Ceremony will have seen a cute little Chinese girl singing but, and this takes some believing, it seems that, in fact, she was miming because the actual little girl doing the singing wasn't pretty enough in the eyes of the organisers! Words fail me, at least, printable ones.
Sunday 24th August I played for the Tamar Valley Westerners and we enjoyed another good evening in their welcome company. They really are a great bunch as all the artiste friends I have introduced to the club will verify and I don't think any of them have had a bad night in all the times they've played there. Funnily enough, next Sunday, Gywndaf and Brian of Kickback Country are there, and I first introduced them to Lin and Lawrence when Gywndaf was with Len in Closing Time! It sounds like we're going to be going to the Westerners quite often in the next few weeks because after Kickback Country there's Dave Cawse & the Bow, and after that, my old mates Jim Ryder and his son Adam are there!
On another tack, we spent Sunday afternoon visiting Mum who is a lot better, thank God, and sat watching the Closing Ceremony of the Olympics. Although I criticised the business regarding the little girl singing, you can't really find fault with the opening or closing ceremonies, they were spectacular. At least, up until the time when the flag was handed over to the scruff who's the Mayor of London, Boris whatever-his-name-is, then all the grandeur seemed to evaporate with the appearance of a red double-decker. From then on the whole thing just seemed to go downhill fast and turned into, as my mate Bobby Jones would say, a bit of a debaucle. What with the overdrive guitar of Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin, some bird screaming her head off, and David Beckham kicking a football into the crowd, all I can is, they've got four years to have a good think about the London ceremonies, because, if what they did in Beijing is a sample of what they're thinking about doing, I for one, wouldn't want to watch it.
I sent an email to two lovely people we got to know when we went to Nashville, Shirley and Rod, and have just had a reply. They really are nice folk and made us very welcome on our holiday and showed us around. Shirley is an incredible musician covering a huge range of instruments including drums, and to cap it all, she has an amazing voice, and yet she and her partner Rod are so unaffected and down-to -earth. Over the years Shirley has mixed with giants on the Country Music scene like Vince Gill, Waylon Jennings and Garth Brooks to name but a few, which speaks volumes re her abilities and popularity on the Nashville circuit but a lovelier person you couldn't wish to meet and we're proud to call her and Rod friends of ours. She's been on my site and offered me her website address to add to my list of Friends, so, if you want to browse Shirley's site, go to the Friends page or, here's the address: www.shirleymyers.com.
A couple of articles ago I wrote about Gwyndaf and Brian of Kickback Country coming down to play for the Tamar Valley Westerners on Sunday 31st August but it didn't turn out quite as expected. A few days before it was due to happen, I phoned Gywndaf to say hi and arrange for the lads to come to my place before the gig as usual, and he told me that, in the not-too-distant future, he was retiring from the circuit as he had had a belly-full of charging all over the Country paying top dollar for fuel and playing to ever-diminishing crowds. Sad as it is, I have been saying for a long time, I'm afraid it's inevitable because touring is bloody hard work even when you're in your prime, and as the years go by, it's gets harder to bounce back. You try driving hundreds of miles in a van, grabbing what sleep you can, keeping yourself clean and tidy, and then having to jump up on stage and give it hell for 3 hours or so, the magic will soon wear off believe you me! Anway, Gywndaf said he'd ring me back after he'd spoken to Brian re the weekend. The next day I had a call from him and he said he wouldn't be able to make it as, while doing his full-time job, he'd managed to damage his hand and wasn't able to play! He explained that Brian was still coming down to do the gig, plus one at the Golden Garter Club on the Saturday night. Chris and I had only met Brian once before but we both liked him and I told Gwyndaf we would go along to the Tamar Valley gig to say hello.
We arrived at the club just before 8pm, a little later than we would have liked, and, as soon as we walked in, Brian's face lit up as if to say "thank God you're here", which was understandable because he'd only ever played there once before with Gywndaf, and didn't really know anyone. I'd often thought that Brian was quite capable of playing on his own, but he's a bit of a social animal and loves company which is why he prefers to play in duos. He told me, in fact, that Eddie Haywood had stood in with him on steel on the Saturday night which was a great help. I could see he felt nervous about doing it on his own and offered to nip home and get my guitar which he jumped at so I ended up doing the gig with him. I'm afraid it was a bit basic because I didn't have the effects unit or anything so the guitar sound was pretty flat apart from a little bit of reverb which Brian added on the desk. It brought back memories of the old days with Brian calling out the keys of the songs and key changes when they were due but I managed even though I didn't know quite a few of the songs he did. The sets went by in, what seemed, no time and before I knew it, it was time for the Trilogy, followed by a couple of songs to round off the evening. We helped Brian to break down the gear and load the car and went back to my place for a well-earned cuppa and something to eat. Again the time flew by as we sat and chatted and it was 2am when Brian left to drive back to where he and his wife Gail were staying with her sister for the weekend up near Bude which is a good hour's drive from Plymouth. He promised to keep in touch and let me know what was happening, so when I know, you'll know. In the mean-time I'll be giving the invalid (Gwyndaf) a ring to see how he is!
Today (4th Sept) I received an e-mail from my old mate Dave Brown containing the following which, although sad, doesn't stop a smile after reading...
The Love Story of Ralph and Edna.
It seems that the crappy old fender Strat that Jimmy Hendrix set fire to has been dug up in a garage somewhere, and is going to be auctioned for £250.000 or more. THAT is a far better example of insanity. Anyone who needs a load of distortion and compression to make the noise he made is not playing music, it's just a bloody awful noise! In my younger days I played Modern Jazz which requires considerable thought as you play around the tune but if anybody had used the gimmicks Hendrix used they would have been laughed off the stage. Maybe that what it was, he couldn't play the bloody thing so he set fire to it! Maybe he'd been listening to a REAL guitarist like Joe Pass or Vince Gill or Chet Atkins or Albert Lee, because when I hear them play I feel like burning mine!
Big Trouble at the OK Corral!
The expression "A Good Craftsman Never Blames His Tools" took on a whole new meaning on Sunday 7th September when Dave Cawse & The Bow played for the Tamar Valley Westerners at the Hyde Park Social Club. We went along for the evening although I wasn't feeling 100% and settled down to listen to the music. I'm afraid what I heard was definitely not the same as I would usually associate with the band. Everything sounded flat with no expression, nothing like the Medicine Bow of old. Dave, who has always been notorious for his stage patter, seemed to be talking more than usual, and some of things he came out with were decidedly un-called for, especially in a family-based club. It was if he was trying to cover up with patter what was missing in the music and it wasn't working. I'm afraid I'm not really a social animal and usually I just sit and listen to the music and, on this occasion, soon started to get a feeling of "What am I doing here?" which didn't help. As I said, I wasn't feeling that clever in the first place so I made my apologies and went home after arranging to return just after 10.30pm to pick up Chris. I duly returned to the club and learned that things had taken a nasty turn due to the utterances of some woman visitor (not a member), who had loudly and openly criticized the Trilogy and several other things regarding the Tamar Valley Westerners. She had obviously never heard the expression "When in Rome.....". Comments from Dave Cawse, such as, "I've seen more life in a mortuary" which was one of his milder utterances certainly didn't help what turned into an evening most people would like to forget. It certainly did nothing for the band in this time of rising fuel costs and ever-diminishing clubs because it's bound to leave a big question mark regarding future bookings. As for the mouthy woman who caused the final upset, she should remember that "What goes around comes around" and eventually someone will put her down on her substantial ass, that's if they've got a boot big enough to fill her mouth!
I wonder how many of you out there are customers of Virgin Media for Internet packages, TV packages or phone packages, quite a few I would suspect. I also wonder how many of you have had cause to complain about the service you are getting. Again, quite a few I suspect. The problem is with Virgin Media, although they advertise that all you have to do is call 151 (if you're on their phone), it's never that straightforward because it's all automated, and even if you happen to get the right combination to the questions they ask you, you probably end up talking to somebody in India whose accent you can't understand! For years I was a faithful customer of Telewest Blue Yonder, and their service and support was excellent. Running this website I found it extremely handy to be able to log-on to the Self Care site where I could view the website activity on a daily basis, and could see what sort of things people were looking for (or at). This way I could try to keep the website interesting. Everything was fine up to March of this year and then I learned that Telewest had been bought, along with NTL and another company, by Virgin Media and then the fun started. To begin with I found that trying to log-on to the Self Care site was very hit and miss, sometimes I could get it, sometimes I couldn't, so I did what they recommended, I phoned customer support. Back then the number you used for the call cost 25p a minute but the call would be re-imbursed if the fault was at their end. This was later changed to the 151 free call, (probably through sheer weight of complaints) but did nothing to improve their so-called Support because the fault I was getting trying to access my Web Page Statistics never got any better, in fact it got worse, and despite umpteen phone calls, emails and letters, is still not working. I have had a running battle with Virgin Media for over 6 months, heard every excuse in the book, and have been promised the earth, all to no avail. It's got to the stage now where I record the telephone conversations as well as storing all the emails and letters to keep for future reference. I contacted the Office of Fair Trading and was told that, on the facts as I related them, Virgin Media were in contravention of the Supply of Goods & Services Act of 1982. Finally, last Monday I had a phone call from a senior member of the Complaints Dept (which I duly recorded) during which she apologised profusely for the ongoing fault and stated that, to date, Virgin Media technicians were unable to fix it! It's pretty appalling when you stop to think about it that, ever since they took over Telewest, they'd managed to bugger up a small, but very handy, part of the service, and no one knew how to fix it! It doesn't really instil confidence does it. The only positive comment I can make is regarding the lady who rang me and admitted the fault was Virgin Media's. It would appear that she's got a bigger set of balls than all the male staff, because at least she had the decency to admit there was a fault and that it was at their end. If there is a happy ending (which I doubt very much) I'll be sure to let you all know what it is.
Further to the above entry re my battle with Virgin Media, today I received a letter from the lady who I had been talking to re my complaint. I thought the best thing to do was publish her letter and then my reply, so here goes:
and my reply:
In response to your letter dated 9th September, I can’t help but wonder if we’re on the same page.If anyone does happen to know where Richard Branson lives, let him know I'm gunning for him!
Sunday 14th September, another busy day, especially for Chris. Our old friends Jim Ryder and his son Adam were due to play at the Tamar Valley Westerners club that evening and we were going along to see them. I'd phoned Jim earlier in the week and he told me they were playing at the Exe Ranch, Exeter on the Friday, down to Trevisco in Cornwall on the Saturday, and then up to do Tamar Valley on the Sunday. Knowing what it's like on the road I suggested that they come to my place on the Sunday when they came to and relax a while and have something to eat, hence Chris was busy preparing a nice roast. We were sitting waiting for them to arrive when the phone rang. It was Jim saying that they were standing outside, had rung the bell but the door wouldn't open. Chris looked out the window and there was no one there, then it dawned on me, they were standing outside my old flat in Saltash which I left over 2 years ago! Jim had written down the new post code during our telephone conversation, but had left it at home, so he drove to the old flat without realising I'd moved. Anyway, with the right post code they duly arrived about 20 minutes or so later and all was well. The time flew as usual and they drove off to the club to set up the gear with time to spare because Jim was a bit apprehensive about two new condensor mikes he'd recently bought. We turned up before the start and settled down for a nice evening's entertainment with Jim mixing it up well, old and new. He certainly got Lin going when he did Ghostriders and Champion The Wonder Horse! That's the trouble with learning a load of new songs, you tend to overlook the old stuff which a lot of people still like to hear. It was a good night with a good crowd in and was over all too soon. Jim and Adam declined my offer of a cuppa and something to eat before they hit the road saying if they went back and relaxed, they wouldn't want to get up again which I can understand having been there. Considering the trip home would take a while it was the best thing to do, keep going while they were still wound-up so to speak. As it turned out, I had a phone call from Jim on Monday afternoon saying that the rain had stopped and they made good time arriving home about 3.45am which is good going. I don't know when our paths will cross again but at least it's nice to know they're only a phone call away.
Further to the ongoing saga regarding my battle with Virgin Media, after further telephone conversations with their Complaints department I have come to the conclusion that, short of cancelling my account with them, there is nothing I can do to improve things. The structure of the organisation makes it impossible to speak to, or stand face to face with, anyone in a position high enough up the ladder to make a difference. I found this to be the case after speaking to the lady I had been dealing with and asking to speak to her Manager. He, in turn, contacted me and we spent 45 minutes going around in ever-decreasing circles getting nowhere with regard to solving the problem. Before his call, the lady had arranged for a technician to ring me to check my on-line settings. According to him, with the settings he was reading off at his end, he was amazed that I could even get on line, let alone get the "up to 20meg" that I have been paying for for months! He asked how long I had been using the current modem, and I explained that it had been sent to me over 6 months ago after a bout of complaints by me with regard to download speeds. His attempts to put the problem right ended up with me losing my Internet connection completely which didn't go a long way to improving my already crap attitude toward Virgin Media. The technician promised to post a new modem off to me which, hopefully, I would receive in a couple of days. The next morning I received another phone call from the lady asking me if the problem had been resolved which showed me yet another complete lack of communication between departments, and was horrified when I informed her that I was now without an Internet connection altogether. Again I asked to speak to her boss and, when he rang, I let him know in no uncertain terms, what I thought of Virgin Media. He promised to look into the matter and ring me right back. An hour and a half later I was still waiting for his call and decided to take matters into my own hands. Having been told during recent conversations that I couldn't speak with the local area manager, I thought " if the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed will have to go to the mountain", and with that in mind I got into the car and drove to the local depot, formerly Telewest, but now Virgin Media. I should explain at this point that this is not the first time I have been there, but you can't get in, and you can't see anyone in the spacious lobby whose attention you can attract, and this, coupled to the posters in the windows telling customers that they need to ring blah blah blah for support speaks volumes. On this occasion, I was determined I was going to get in, come hell or high water, and so I sat in my car in the car park until I spotted someone wearing a Virgin Media identification badge getting out of a van and heading for the entrance doors. I collared him and demanded to speak with the Local Manager. He took me into the Reception area and asked me to wait while he got hold of someone to deal with my enquiry. When someone did appear from the managerial level it wasn't the guy I wanted to speak with but he offered to help in any way he could. When he asked what the problem was I suggested he check the records of complaints on my account as I was fed up with explaining everything every time I contacted a different member of staff. He went away and returned shortly with a small bundle of print-outs which covered only fraction of the big picture and, after reading these, stated that an engineer was due to contact me at home the following day and put the matter of the modem right. He also apologised for the way the entire matter had been handled and hoped it would soon be resolved. That's one thing that all the staff of Virgin Media have in common, they're all very good at apologising. Crap at getting the job done efficiently, but good at saying sorry! I asked him if he had, in fact, worked for Telewest before the take-over and he said he had. He agreed with me that before the merger things ran a lot more efficiently, and there had certainly been teething problems since. That is the understatement of the year, it's gone to ratshit! Anyway, I returned home and, a while later, the phone rang and it was the Complaints Manager apologising (yet again) for being a little late getting back to me. He eventually rang off after another chewing-out by me, promising to ring me after the weekend to check that something had been done. He didn't suggest it, I demanded it! The whole attitude reflected by staff of Virgin Media is sadly lacking I'm afraid, the personal touch between customer and supplier has vanished off the face of the earth, and the word INTEGRITY is not in their dictionary. INCOMPETENCE- yes, LACK OF INTEREST IN COMPLETING A JOB SATISFACTORILY - yes, and COULDN'T CARE LESS ONE WAY OR THE OTHER - yes but as long as you're paying out your hard-earned cash, they really don't give a shit, aside from making sympathetic noises in the right places. Should their attitude change, I'll be the first to sing their praises, but to date ....... Obviously this won't appear on site until the modem's working which time is anybody's guess.
Further to the Virgin saga, I had, yet again, another classic example of the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing, when early in the morning of the day the engineer was coming between 12 and 4pm, the postman handed me a package which, on opening I found to be a brand-new modem from Virgin Media. I didn't install it, I thought I'd let the engineer do then there's no excuse if it didn't work. Anyway, at about 1pm the engineer arrived with another modem so obviously nobody bothered to tell him they'd already sent me one. Never mind, he connected everything up and, after a bit of fiddling, got everything up and running. Great, I had my Internet back, so I asked him about the MAIN problem I'd been having for over 6 months and he looked at me as if I was discussing a problem in Astro-Physics! So the be-all and end-all is that although they fixed one problem (which they caused) they were no nearer to fixing the other problem which is ongoing with no forecast date of rectifying. A few days later, the manager I'd been talking to rang me to ask if everything was to my satisfaction, and I tore him off another strip. It got to the stage where he suggested may be I should consider cancelling my contract, which for them would have been the easy way out, but I was having none of it. I merely pointed out that, with regard to the Supply of Goods & Services Act 1982, they were in breach of contract, and I would report them to the Office of Fair Trading rather than cancel my contract as all I wanted was what I was paying for, nothing more, nothing less. The solution he came up with was a generous discount for the next 3 months which would help to ease the current situation, so, although there's still a problem, at least it's not costing me as much as it was before.
Have you ever seen something and thought to yourself "I want one". Well it happened to me when we were visiting our good friends Scott and Michelle. When we arrived, two other friends Brian & Jo were there as well and during the conversation the subject of mobile phones came up, and I happen to comment that the new Sony W850i I had was a great phone but texting on it was a pain in the ass. I'm old-fashioned and hate using the predictive text, so to type the Queen's English takes forever pressing the buttons umpteen times. Scott said, "This is what you want", and showed a picture and write-up on the new HTC TyTN ll which is not just a phone, it's a PDA, which slides out to reveal a full QWERTY keyboard, but that ain't all, the screen tilts making it very easy to see what you're typing. I decided there and then "I want one", and, when we got home, started searching on Ebay to see what was available. As it retails for around £460 I wasn't expecting to find much but there were a few on there, mostly "Buy it now" offers from dealers, and most locked to a network. Then after a day or so I found one being sold by a doctor, unlocked and, more importantly, unbranded, so I bided my time and watched how the bidding was going. It was like something you'd see in a cartoon when I finally put in a bid. I used the second-hand on my watch to place my bid with seconds to go and was the winning bidder and, although I won't say what I paid for it, I will say that it was well below half the retail price. Anyway, the phone duly arrived and when I unpacked it, it looked brand-new, even the classy box it was in was brand-new! The instruction manual is 280 pages long! This thing does everything but make tea and it's got Tomtom navigator in it as well! I know sometimes after you've gone mad and splashed out you live to regret it but, this definitely wasn't one of those occasions. This phone is so easy to use, and has so much in it, and it's got a fantastic reputation, I haven't found a single review which criticizes it in any way. I'm not going to rave on about all the things it does because it would take forever but, if you're curious, try this link for one of the reviews - http://www.tracyandmatt.co.uk/blogs/index.php/2007/09/07/htc_tytn_ii_review
I've just had a phone call from Jaynie and Gregg (Souls & Stone), it was lovely to hear from them, it's been a while since we last met. Jaynie was saying that they were on the road to Carlisle to do a gig and had already worked out that, after taking out the price of the diesel, it wasn't really worth loading the van and going. I hate to say it but I've been saying for months that this was going to happen. It's going to kill the touring bands which is a crying shame because it'll mean that clubs will have to use the local talent and it's going to get repetitive for members who are going to start moaning about seeing the same old faces all the time. Another thing Jaynie told me about, which was very disturbing, was an incident they had recently while driving in their van to a gig. A van they were following on the road suddenly pulled up and men jumped out and approached them. At the time she was in the back, out of sight, so Gregg was the only one visible to passersby. The men ordered Gregg to get out but when Jaynie came into view they beat a hasty retreat and drove away. It seems, according to the local Police, there has been a series of similar incidents recently where these men have stolen the vans of people and left them standing by the road-side. It's hard enough nowadays putting in horrendous hours trying to make ends meet without some thieving b*****d taking the tools of your trade namely expensive musical equipment which is necessary and cost an arm and a leg to replace. There's enough thieving b*****ds in the form of agents without having to contend with anything else!
Sunday 5th October, my first gig for 6 weeks! I can't say I miss humping all the gear and sweating my nuts off for 3 hours these days but, having said that, it's nice just to keep my hand in once in a while. Hearing all the stories from my friends in the music business I feel extremely lucky that I've reached the age where I no longer depend on playing to make a living. As an O.A.P. I'm not rolling in it, but, touch wood, I won't go hungry. For this gig I'm back with my friends the Tamar Valley Westerners and, as usual, it was a good evening. They always make the appearing artiste feel welcome and are quick to show their appreciation which is nice. I can remember many gigs I played where I might as well have been playing to a brick wall for all the appreciation or feedback I was getting from the audience, especially some of the social clubs."Social", that's hilarious, some of them are the most un-social places you could ever wish to be. I remember one particular New Year's Eve in London when I was booked by a social club to do 5 hours in the downstairs bar while a 6-piece band was playing upstairs. Why they wanted me to play downstairs I'll never know because everyone was upstairs and it was the longest, loneliest 5 hours of my career in music. I vowed there and then, no matter how much money I was offered, I'd never do it again! One of these days I might write a book about my life as a musician, the only thing with that is, people would swear blind I was making things up!
I've just had an email from my brother Dave containing 2 cracking jokes so I've put them on the JOKES page.
This entry has nothing to do with the music business but is, especially to my Chris, well worth a mention. Although all four of her thankless children have deigned to snub her, there is one person who hasn't, the apple of her eye, her grandson Kieran, who has grown into a fine young man at the tender age of 15 years. He is already as tall as me and takes a size 12 in shoes, he's going to be a big bugger! Chris brought him up for the majority of his life from age 11 months to age 6 years, and it shows. He is one of the nicest lads you could ever wish to meet, courteous, well-mannered, and very switched on. On Saturday 11th October, he took part in a "Action for Children" Charity event in Plymouth City Centre and abseiled down 100 feet from the top of one of the stores. He had seen it advertised somewhere whilst out with his young brother and filled out the entry form with no prompting from anyone. Obviously he had to be sponsored to raise the necessary money to take part and, with the help of his parents and his loving grand mother he raised £179.50, well over the required sum. At 2.30pm we watched him and I got it all on video as a memento plus some still shots which I've since burned onto a DVD. His ambition is to join the Army and is hoping to enrol in about 7months time. Whatever he does he'll make us all proud.
I've just had an email from Foxy containing a scanned page from the Crazy Cowboy magazine which is produced by Ken Dyche. It shows two entries relating to a subject which is as old as time - audience noise during artiste's performance. I'll type them in and then comment:
Country Clubs or Social Clubs?
Whatever is happening to our Country& Western Clubs? The majority are turning into social clubs with all the noise going on when the artiste is on stage. It is so disrespectful to the artistes when all they are dong is trying to entertain you and earn a living. If you want to go out and spend the evening talking to your friends then go to a social club where they have CDs or a Disco. If you must talk at a Country Club, do it quietly, other people in the room have paid their money, the same as you, but want to hear the artiste, and why are the people who run these events so afraid to tell people to be quiet when the artiste is on stage, and I know three or four clubs where the biggest talkers are the people running them. Well I think that the only way forward in Country Music is the concert clubs where you can listen to the artiste, maybe this way artistes can have the respect that they deserve, and the talkers can go to their social clubs and everybody is happy. I have spoken to a lot of people who agree with me, but it seems, no one wants to do anything about it. (Entry by Marg)Well! What can I say about that little lot? Quite a bit actually. Firstly, as an artiste of 50 years plus, I must say I agree with the sentiments of both writers, but come on, we live in the REAL world not Disneyland. If an artiste expects the entire audience to sit quietly and hang on every note and syllable, he/she is in the wrong business, it ain't gonna happen! First rule - There's a lot of people out there who are pig ignorant and couldn't give a fish's tit about anybody else. Secondly, if you want an audience to listen you've got to earn their attention by playing what they want to hear. Unfortunately there are a few artistes doing the rounds who play what THEY want to play, never mind about the paying customer. I can think of one individual who has chairs put out on the dance floor because he won't perform to a dancing crowd!On the one occasion I heard him perform, I only managed to sit through one and a half songs before I had an overwhelming urge to leave. My point is, it doesn't matter how big you are, or how good you think you are, you're being paid to please the audience, not yourself, and if you're unlucky enough after all that, to be in a club that has more than it's fair share of wankers, you just don't go back there again. All I can suggest to artistes is, if the material you are using doesn't seem to be holding the attention of the audience, switch to something else, or, better still, ASK THEM what they want. If it's stuff you don't do, you're in the wrong place, and just have to soldier on to the end of the evening with the view that you won't go there again. As mentioned by the writer of the second article, Ken Dyche, the only venue where you can expect a reasonable level of audience participation, is a concert club, anything short of that you've got to take it as it comes. I have played at one of the venues mentioned and had good night with no problems whatsoever. The music business is a hard business to be in so, if you can't cut it, try bus driving or something. Having said all that, my advice to those who do want to listen, go down by the stage. If there's no seats available, just stand around the noise makers, maybe jostle the occasional table or spill a drink or two down some yapper's neck. Hopefully they'll get the message and bugger off somewhere else!
At long last the Virgin Media saga is drawing to a close because I received a letter from one of the Chief Executives full of apologies for all that has come to pass in the last seven months. He stated that the solution to the problem had been found and was in the process of being introduced into the system. That letter, together with the credited discount that has been applied to my account for the next three months, proves that if a problem rears it's ugly head, you don't give up at the first hurdle, you persevere using every means possible until you get a satisfactory result. Let's hope everything runs smoothly for a while because I've had a bellyful of trying to talk to the switchboard in India! I have taken the added precaution of adding the name and address of the Chief Executive to my address book just in case....
Just had this email from Fran which needs circulating quickly, especially with Xmas round the corner:
Postal Scam
Can you circulate this around especially as Christmas is fast approaching -
it has been confirmed by Royal Mail.
The Trading Standards Office are making people aware of the
following scam:
A card is posted through your door from a company called PDS (Parcel
Delivery Service)suggesting that they were unable to deliver a parcel
and that you need to contact them on 0906 6611911 (a premium rate
number). DO NOT call this number, as this is a mail scam originating from
Belize.
If you call the number and you start to hear a recorded message you
will already have been billed £15 for the phone call.
If you do receive a card with these details, then please contact Royal
Mail Fraud on 02072396655 or ICSTIS (the premium rate service regulator) at
www.icstis.org. uk
Here's a little thought for the day to ponder on. How many of you out there who log on to the Internet daily and enjoy the fruits of our society one way or another, but may be a little worried about the current financial straits worldwide, have stopped to think that a good 75% of the world's population don't know what a computer is, let alone own one! They probably don't know what a bank is let alone have an account in one, or, wouldn't really appreciate the gravity of rising fuel prices because the only fuel they know is what they hack out of the forest! We, in general, in the so-called civilised world, have had it so good for so long, maybe it's time we appreciated how the less fortunate get by, that's if you can even imagine it.
2 more crackers, courtesy of Fran, on the JOKES page
Saturday 25th October, I decided to stretch my legs and walk into the City Centre, not to get anything in particular, I just wanted to test my new toy, my phone! I have already used the Tomtom facility a few times in the car and it works a treat so I thought I'd try the walking mode because you can set it for walking, riding a bike, and umpteen things besides driving. I did an advanced programme from where I live to Kev's shop, Computerbase, which is in Market Way, and stood in the lane to let it get a satellite fix. Within seconds it was telling me that it was 1.3 miles and gave me an approximate arrival time, with an arrow on the map showing me which direction I should take. It picked up every junction, every street name, and, even managed to re-route when I tried to confuse it by taking a different route a couple of times. It led me right to the shop and I arrived at the time it said I would so I was well impressed! As if that isn't enough, I've also loaded Google Maps as well which is world-wide and you can zoom down to street names anywhere which is ridiculous but, having said all that, I still can't get it to make me a cuppa with 2 sugars.
I can't believe that the old chestnut about Bill Gates of Microsoft giving away money if you pass on an email is still going around! Come on folks, think about it. Do you honestly believe that anyone's going to do that??? Maybe I'm just an old cynic but over the years I've come to appreciate that you don't get anything for nothing, especially money! I've never been a gambler, I've got no interest in horse racing, poker or the National Lottery, it's a mug's game. Look at Las Vegas, all the fantastic buildings and glitz. Where do you think the money came from to build a place like that if not from the mugs who go there and flush their cash straight down the toilet into the ever-grasping hands of the mobsters who run it. It's sad but true, and a shame that people are gullible enough to think they'll be the lucky ones. The worst of it is that some of the biggest culprits for relieving folk of their cash are the Government who make millions through extortionate tax on things like fuel and tobacco. I've just found out that the current price of a 50g pack of Golden Virginia, (which is produced in the UK),is £4.20 in Belgium, while over here it's around £12. It just goes to show what bloody hypocrites they are advising everyone to quit smoking, because if everyone did they'd lose millions! Just remember, nothing's for nothing.
It would appear that the S--t has hit the fan again at the good ol' BBC with the current row over the actions of a couple of w------s called Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand. Is it just me, or is there anybody else out there who barely know who they are, let alone watch them on TV! I must admit to becoming increasingly worried as the years go by at the level of intelligence displayed by Joe Public regarding what programmes they watch nowadays. Chris and I are quite partial to FX where we watch things like Water Rats, JAG and NCIS, but come 9pm we swiftly changed to another channel to avoid watching some crap called American Dad which is an insult to your intelligence. As I said earlier, I barely know who these Ross and Brand individuals are because, having seen them once (for a brief time before changing channels) I've never watched them since. One thing I heard on the news which I did find disturbing was that this Jonathan Ross is on an 80 MILLION POUNDS contract with the BBC over a period of 3 years. If that's what the licence money is being wasted on God help us! My advice to one and all, if the likes of them come on the TV, SWITCH OVER and watch something else!
The 5th of November, Guy Fawkes Night, when, not that many years ago, he tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament, is now a date that will be remembered for being the day that the people of the America voted in the first African/American President. I have no wish to be a killjoy amongst all the celebrations, and I fervently wish him every success in the huge task he has taken on, but, behind all the festivities going on, I can already hear the knives being sharpened and the guns being loaded by those who have more than their fair share of money and power, and have no intentions of giving anything up come hell or high water. Visions of President Kennedy spring to mind as he rode in that open car and, although time has moved on, and lessons have been learned, so has technology and the ones who can afford the high prices of this technology are the ones I'm talking about. I hate to say it but, in a lot of places in America, the Civil War is still going on so let's hope that history doesn't repeat itself.
On a lighter note, I've put a couple of ringtones an the Song Samples page which might tickle your fancy, the girls seem to like the Donald Duck one.
Sunday 9th October, Remembrance Sunday, was a special day in more than one year. Our good mate Ramrod was due to play for the Tamar Valley Westerners and we intended to go along for the evening because it is a very special evening where the Westerners forego their normal Trilogy and replace it with a Remembrance ceremony to honour all those who gave their lives in the wars and conflicts right up to the present day. I phoned Ramrod earlier in the week to see who was coming with him, and if, as usual, they wanted to travel down a bit earlier and come to our place to relax for a while before the gig. Chris and Di (Ramrod's good lady) spoke at length and Di said she would be coming along which was great as we hadn't seen her for quite a while. They arrived about 4.30-ish and we just sat around and had a good chat until it a time to go to the club. It was a good night, Ramrod is well-liked by the Westerners and he gave them everything they wanted to hear and ribbed the hell out of Jim, who is a stalwart "blue" much to the crowd's amusement. Joy is a great fan of Ramrod's and, a few years back, presented him with a mascot, a teddy bear all dressed up in his "Greys" uniform which pleased Ramrod no end and he promptly called him "John Henry", and now, wherever Ramrod is playing, John Henry goes along. For the next part of the write-up I need to explain that a while back Ramrod went through a bad patch health-wise and, in fact, had to cancel one of his bookings with the Tamar Valley Westerners through ill health. He intimated at that time that he was going to cut down on the amount of travelling he was doing and that, unhappily, he wouldn't be in a position to come down from Clevedon any more after he had fulfilled the last booking (9th Nov). Understandably the Westerners were very disappointed as they'd really taken to him and, as a token of their gratitude for all the good night's entertainment he had supplied they had a whip-round and bought him a small gift. Ramrod knew nothing about it until he was asked, during the second break, to come to the stage where Lawrence and Ken presented him with the gift. It was a small crystal guitar which stood on a plinth which had a plaque with engraved sentiments, and it was great. Ramrod was really choked and thanked everyone for their kind thoughts, but, here's a twist, recently Ramrod's health has improved and, as the Tamar Valley Westerners are his kind of people he hopes to carry on entertaining them for the foreseeable future, which was well-received by the crowd. At the end of the evening came the Remembrance ceremony and, although I've seen it before, I am still impressed by the sincerity with which it is carried out. Everyone files past the Cenotaph, places their poppy, and pays tribute in their own way and Ramrod, being ex-Service saluted with the precision one expects from a Military man. It is a truly moving occasion and one I feel privileged to participate in along with everyone else.
Not long ago I participated in a series of tests which check the colon for any abnormalities which may lead to cancer. The first test results were inconclusive so I was asked to participate again, which I did. The results of the second test were normal but, because I had two conflicting results I was asked to do yet another test. As the result of the third test I was made aware that, because a small amount of blood had been detected, I was invited to have a colonoscopy to be on the safe side. My faith in the Health Service is questionable at best but, for Chris' peace of mind, I reluctantly agreed to have it done, and so followed the following pantomime. The operation was booked for 8.30am on Thursday 13th November and so the preparation of cleaning out the bowels started on the preceding Tuesday when, from 2pm that day I wasn't allowed any solid food. I'm not big eater these days because of the Hiatus Hernia, but not being able to eat any solid food whatsoever seemed to increase my appetite and I was starving! Chris, bless her, nipped into town to do some shopping, and had a meal while she was in there so she wouldn't have to eat with me looking on! I was drinking cups of Beef Oxo, Chicken Oxo, black coffee and Lucozade by the gallon as I was supposed to drink plenty of clear fluids. On the Wednesday the fun really started when at 8am I had to take the first of two powders called Picolax. I had been warned not to stray too far from a toilet and I soon discovered why. Within 15 minutes of taking the foul-tasting concoction I was heading for the hills and thought I was going to blow up the loo! During the next 24 hours I must have been to the loo about 16 times, the majority of which times, I passed nothing but fluid. I certainly know what they mean when they say "S*******g through the eye of a needle! A second Picolax at 4pm just kept the process going and by 10.30pm that evening I was completely knackered and ready for bed, which was just as well because we had to get up at 6.30am the next day in preparation for the trip to Derriford Hospital. We arrived at the Hospital with 10 minutes to spare and, after a quick word with the receptionist, sat and waited.... and waited.... and waited. I am not the most tactful person and I'm a stickler for time-keeping and so I made my presence known again a little more forcefully and pointed out that my operation was for 8.30am, supposedly the first to be performed that day. The receptionist, who was of oriental origin, and whose accent I found it extremely hard to understand, said something about a generator breaking down as being the reason things were running behind time. She showed me to a changing cubicle where I was instructed to get undressed, put on the infamous "open-at-the-back" gown and my dressing gown and wait to be called when the doctor who was performing the surgery arrived because he wasn't due until 9am. Why the hell I had to be there at 8.30am if he wasn't going to be there until 9am I'll never know because no explanation was offered. I was told that after the op I would have to wait to see the doctor before I could go home, and when I asked how long, she wasn't sure but thought that he would probably do about 4 operations on the trot before talking to the patients, which meant I was liable to be sitting around for some 2-3 hours. I told her that that was not an option and refused to sign the consent form until I had spoken with the surgeon. Then a nurse appeared and took me to the Operating Room where the doctor was waiting and I asked him about the waiting time after the procedure. He said that as soon as I felt well enough to go home after the op I could and so I signed the form. The actual procedure was a doddle and, although I was supposedly sedated, I talked to the doctor and the assistants, all the the way through and watched what was going on via the monitor screen. Afterwards I was taken to the recovery room and given a welcome cup of tea and a couple of biscuits and boy, didn't it taste good. After about 15 minutes of laying there I told the nurse I felt fine and intended to get dressed so she pulled the curtains around and I changed. Another guy, who had got out of bed and dressed while I was lying on the bed with a cuppa, was still sat waiting and I was asked to sit where he was and await the person who was driving me home, Chris. Again, after 10 minutes of just sitting there, I decided enough's enough and got up and walked out of the ward. I was immediately pounced on by a nurse who told me to go back and sit down and wait for my escort, to which I replied that I knew the way to Reception where my escort was and that's where I was going. Then I was told that I had to see the nursing sister before I could leave and should wait to see her. I had already been given the results print-out by the doctor and so was heading for the door when I saw the nursing sister who just said everything had gone fine and that was that. It's no wonder people lose faith in the Health Service, there are a few specialists and an army of empire-builders who all make up their own little rules and regulations and, half the time, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing! The end result of this exasperating experience was I had 3 polyps removed which will be checked, everything else was fine, and they stretched my patience a damn sight more than my back passage!
If anybody's still here after that marathon, there's a couple of new additions on the JOKES page, but some might think what they've just read is enough of a joke for one day.
A word of warning to anyone thinking of registering with E-on for their supply of gas or electricity - CHECK THE FINE PRINT BEFORE YOU DO! I recently filled out a form to change supplies after being told that they could save me around £40 a year on my electricity. The process was to take place over a 4-5 week period and I didn't have to bother with anything except supply a few meter readings when asked to do so. I have just had a call from my present suppliers, British Gas, asking why I was changing over and I told the guy it was because I would be saving money. He asked me if I was aware that, with E-on, there was a DAILY standing charge applied on my key meter which, when worked out over a 12 month period, came out to TWICE as much as they promised I would save on their electrical supply! Needless to say, I was right on the phone to E-on to confirm this information and it was correct, so I politely told the lady what they could do with their energy supply and told her that I would not be continuing with the change-over. I have since emailed E-on from their website the following:
Today (13-11-08) I contacted one of your representatives by telephone and, as the result of our conversation, informed her that I would not be continuing the process of moving from British Gas to Eon for my supply of gas and electricity. She informed me that the forthcoming contract had been cancelled regarding the change-over. Please send me a letter of confirmation and, while you're at it, an apology for failing to disclose information regarding the fact that there would have been a daily standing charge for using a key meter, something the sales representative saw fit to keep to himself. I abhor shady salesmanship in any shape or form and, after this I wouldn't trust your company further than I could spit.
Just as a point of note. When I went on their website, the ONLY contact link I couldn't log on to, was the Complaints one so I had to use the general enquiries link. To me that speaks volumes - be warned!
Sunday 16th November, back to the Tamar Valley Westerners, and this time it's my turn to do the entertaining. It was a good night, nothing out of the ordinary happened, just the usual leg-pulling and good-natured ribbing which seems to make the time fly by and before you know it, it's time to go home. There were a few new faces I didn't recognise and they seem to be enjoying the music so hopefully they'll be back because, the way things have been going lately with all the clubs, bums on seats is always welcome. I varied the songs, some old, some new, and made sure I played all the favourites of different members which, let's face it, is what I'm there to do, not play the material I want and sod the punters. That's the advantage of the set-up I use, I have instant access to ALL my material, I don't play specific sets, so if someone wants a particular song, if I've done it, I'll play it. Poor Chris was under the weather having suffered a bad tummy upset the day before which seemed to be lingering on and really would have been better off staying home wrapped up warm but she determined she was going to go, if only to give Leiah and Dancy, who got married on the 15th, their special card that she'd made for them. Still, that's Chris, always thinking about others before herself bless her.
An email from my old mate Bobby Jones had me laughing my socks off. I'd better explain that Anthea & Bobby have a little dog called Holly who is 17 years old! That's hell of an age which ever way you cut but, unfortunately, with old age comes problems and, in this instance it's near-blindness and a weak bladder. Hence sometimes in the middle of the night when she needed to pee she just did it on the carpet and, no matter how many it was cleaned up, it was getting noticeable. So Bobby hired a carpet cleaner and shampooed the carpet but it just seemed to make things worse and an overpowering smell of ammonia was making it difficult to breathe, let alone ignore. After a couple of days Bobby decided enough's enough and ripped up the carpet, cut it up and binned it. They've ordered a new one and, before it arrives, thought it would be the best time to redecorate. Unfortunately for Bobby because he hates painting and decorating! I rang him today and when he answered I asked him if he fancied doing some painting and decorating for me. The reply isn't really printable but it went something like this... ****!!! ***!!!!
I don't know what it's like in your particular neck of the woods but, here in Plymouth, refuse collection, especially the so-called green waste, is very much a hit & miss affair, and you could end up being passed over and have to then find room for another 2 week's worth. In our district the green bins used to be emptied every other week on a Monday afternoon then, out of the blue, it was changed to every other Wednesday. The first Wednesday the bin was put out at the usual time and we then discovered that, in fact, the cart came around very early in the morning so we'd missed it. That meant we had to find room for another 2 weeks worth before the next collection. Luckily, there's never a lot of waste and so it was not really a problem and a fortnight later the bin was put out again. This time however it was put out the night before just in case the cart turned up early again. It didn't, in fact, arrive until about 11.15am and, after giving them time to empty the contents, I went out in the lane to retrieve the bin, only to discover that, although some had been emptied, mine had not. I could see the cart further down the lane so I chased after it with the bin in tow to find out why they hadn't emptied it. One of the collectors rummaged around in the bin and pulled out a chocolate biscuit which he waved in the air stating that this was not on the list of acceptable items and therefore my bin had been left. I told him in no uncertain terms that I did not like or buy chocolate biscuits and so some other ignorant b******d must have chucked it in there because, not knowing what time they were going to turn up, I had left it out over night, furthermore, if, in the future the bin was not emptied, I would take it to the Civic Centre and tip the contents out in the Reception lobby. He more or less told me to do what I wanted, he was only following the orders he's been given by his boss who, it seems, had instructed them that, if they found as much as a cigarette end in the bin, they were to leave it. Considering the bins are about 18 inches square and stand about 4 feet high I found that very hard to comprehend. I went back indoors and tried numerous times to ring the Refuse Department and, surprise surprise, the bloody phone was permanently engaged, so I've written a stinking letter and sent it to them. I'm not really surprised the the phone was permanently engaged because if everybody else is getting the same sort of treatment there must be an awful lot of angry customers out there!
This email I had from Foxy contains a novel suggestion:
Drafting
Guys Over 60
(This is so funny & obviously written by a former soldier.)
New Direction for the war on terrorists. Send Service Vets over 60
years old.
I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down
terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the
whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they
ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit
until you're at least 35.
For starters:
Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old
guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than
28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky
soldier is a dangerous soldier. ' My back hurts ! I can't sleep, I'm tired
and hungry.' We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some idiot that
desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.
An 18 -year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys
always get up early to pee so what the heck. Besides, like I said, 'I'm
tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing
some fanatical radical.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we
put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real
brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed
and yelled at, and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an
appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get
out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course, however. I've been in
combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side,
nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear
the Drill Sgt. in the 'New army' now, 'Get down and give me ... ER ... one.'
Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've
never seen anyone outrun a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning
to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't
figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back
of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little
more about life before sending them off into harm's way.
Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The
last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million
pissed-off old farts with 'attitude' and automatic weapons who know that
their best years are already behind them.
If nothing else, put us on border patrol ... we will have it secured
the first night !
It's pretty quiet in my neck of the woods at present, no world-shattering
events, but I'd like to take this opportunity to say a big welcome to my
visitors from overseas. I recently uploaded a new piece of software called
Stats Counter which, not only shows how many are logging on, it shows where
they are logging on from, and it's a bit of an eye-opener! To my visitor
from near Wichita, Kansas, who was on the site for nearly 6 hours, I hope
you enjoyed your visit and, if you were looking for something specific which
you didn't find, please drop me an email and I'll do my best to help. I have
noticed several visitors are looking for certain midi-files of songs.
Firstly, my files are all converted to, what they call, Work File format,
which makes them load faster (instantly) which is ideal onstage, so, unless
you use a programme such as Virtual Jukebox, they wouldn't work. Secondly,
if again, you drop me an email re a certain file you're looking for, if I've
done it, I might be able to convert it back to normal general midi-file
format, but bear in mind that it won't sound as good because the
instrumentation won't be the same. It all sounds a bit complicated but boils
down to the sound module being used. If you read the
MIDI page this should explain what I'm talking
about. One of these days I might start converting all my files to mp3 format
but it's a mountain I'm not ready to climb.
So, once again folks although I've said it umpteen times, if you are looking for something in particular, want help with something, or just want to say hi, drop me a line to mikeaguitarman@blueyonder.co.uk I'd love to hear from you. Meanwhile, there's a couple of new additions to the JOKES page.
Sunday 7th December, 18 days to go to the day when everyone tries to get along with relatives they'd rather choke than hug. That's a bit cynical, but a lot of people will know what I mean. The trouble is nowadays, the Christmas Spirit seems to come way down the list, after Scotch, Brandy, Rum and everything else that's consumed in large quantities, and it's all so commercial with kids screaming for toys costing 3 figures, and God help everyone if they don't get what they want. To those who are deeply religious, my sincere apologies but I am not a believer any more. My early years of singing in the church choir and attending Sunday school soon opened my eyes to the hard cold facts of life. and the way things REALLY are. I DO believe in Peace on Earth and Good Will to all Men (and Women of course), but unfortunately it's a rare commodity these days, five minutes of BBC News 24 proves that! My advice to one and all is, try to treat people the way you would like them to treat you, and I can't take credit for that gem because it's the code my beloved Chris lives by. She is a shining example of how humanity ought to be, loving, caring and thoughtful in ways that most of us wouldn't even think about. She's very special to me, and I know a lot of others hold her in high esteem because of the way she is. I just hope you all have a good time over the Christmas and that 2009 is a better year.
Saturday night Chris and I drove to West Buckland near Taunton where I was booked to play for the evening. We left home in plenty of time with a couple of new gadgets in the car. The first was my HTC mobile phone, sitting in it's cradle on the dash with the Tomtom programme going and, although I more or less remembered the way, it was reassuring to know that the phone knew where I was going even if I had a memory lapse (which seems to be happening a lot more frequently these days!)The other piece of kit was a Snooper S2 which detects speed cameras of umpteen different types and, on this it's first outing, impressed me greatly. I had read in the manual how it not only detected the static cameras but the mobile lasers as well, and it was just as we had got on to the Parkway (the dual carriageway from Plymouth to Exeter)that we had our first example of how it works. The unit had successfully detected all the static cameras and, as I was accelerating up through the gearbox this little unit beeped once and all the lights flashed. I thought at first it was a malfunction but about 10 seconds later an unmarked Police car with it's light flashing went screaming past probably in hot pursuit of some poor sod with a heavier right boot than me. I was well impressed! Another thing that had us both laughing was other drivers' reactions when the blue or red lights flashed. We'd read some of the reviews about this unit on the web and a couple had said how other drivers had slowed down thinking it as an unmarked Police car when they saw the lights flash, and that's exactly how it was. Obviously it's more prominent in the dark but even in daylight it's effective. As an ex copper one might say I ought to know better than to drive fast and my answer would be, driving fast is not necessarily driving dangerously. You must read the road ahead, not 20 feet in front of the car, as far as you can see; and not just in front, behind as well. I was taught to check the rear view mirror at least every 20 seconds because you never know, especially with some of the crazy buggers around these days. I drive fast because it holds my concentration and I'm more aware of what's going on around me. At slower speeds I find my concentration tends to disappear at times and that's when things can go wrong. It's a standing joke between Chris and I because, when we're coming home from a gig late at night, she looks out for rabbits but she's got to be quick to see them! Anyway, back to the gig at West Buckland. At this gig the crowd like a mixture of Country and the old Rock and Roll, so I oblige, playing songs I haven't played in quite a while. I went prepared this time having dug out a load of old song sheets from way back because the grey cells are not what they used to be! I would like to thank everybody for their appreciation of my efforts, especially one gent whose name, unfortunately I don't know, for his kind words. It still gives me a nice warm feeling to know that people enjoy my efforts because, ironically, I've never really regarded myself as a singer, I'm a guitarist of sorts, not that special compared to some I know, but nevertheless a guitarist. My brother Dave likes to sing at Kareoke venues but, without a guitar in my hands, I couldn't do that any more than I could fly. I literally hide behind my guitar when I sing and STILL get embarrassed when I'm introduced. I suppose over the years I've been so used to just getting onstage and getting on with the job in hand without any introductions that I don't expect anything else. Funnily enough, at a few gigs I've done for the Tamar Valley Westerners, after the first break I've just got back onstage and started up before Ray's had a chance to re-introduce me. That's fine by me, who needs all the bullshit, I'm just doing what I love to do, sing and play my beloved Gibson RD Artist.
There's another good'un from Fran on the JOKES page!
and just to keep the ball rolling, there's a nice Xmas story on the JOKES page, courtesy of my sister Pat.
You know I'm always going on about not giving up at the first hurdle when you come up against a problem which seems unsolvable, well, how about this for a shining example. Around six months ago I splashed out and treated myself to a pair of rimless glasses. As I now wear glasses all the time I thought "to hell with the expense" and must admit that, although they cost an arm and a leg, it was worth it. The only thing is that, seeing there are no frames for the lenses, they are literally bolted to the nose piece and the arms, albeit with very small screws and nuts. Anyway, I noticed recently that there was a bit of movement where there shouldn't be and, upon a close examination of the glasses, saw that the nuts were not the usual hexagonal shape, which made them a little tricky to tighten. I decided the next time I was in the City Centre I would pay a visit to Vision Express, where I had them made up, and ask for the right tool to do the job. So when that day came last Tuesday I went into the shop and asked a member of staff for the necessary spanner to tighten my glasses. I was glibly informed that if I wanted this particular tool I'd have to pay for it, and it cost £3.99! Needless to say I wasn't happy with this suggestion and let it be known that having paid out over £400 (less my credit as an OAP) I would have expected a spanner, which was essential for maintenance, to be included in the price. The woman I was speaking to refused to budge saying that I could bring the glasses in and they would tighten them free of charge to which I responded that it was not always convenient to go into town, and what was I supposed to do if it was necessary when the shop was shut or I was somewhere where I couldn't get to one of their shops. I demanded that they pulled up my account on their computer and make a note that I wasn't happy with the explanation I had been offered, and that they supply me with the name and address of the manufacturer so that I could complain to them as well. Then another member of the staff, slightly more senior I think, walked over to where these spanners were on display, took a packet off the display, opened it up, and proceeded to tighten my glasses. She then cleaned them and handed them back to me, along with the spanner which she asked me to accept with their compliments at no charge. I thanked her very much, wished her a Merry Christmas, and walked out of the shop, leaving the bolshy assistant who wouldn't help standing there with her mouth open! You might think I'm being tight, moaning over £3.99, but it's not the money, it's the principle. After all, they cost an arm and a leg, and they're bound to work loose with constant wear and tear, so the essential tool for maintenance should be included in the price. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!
In the festive mood, I was surfing around looking at different things when I came across a website which purported to save you money making phone calls. It sounded too good to be true so I emailed my brother Dave and asked him to have a read and see what he thought. About an hour later I had a reply from him saying that it was probably ok but that I should check out a site called 1899 which he had been using for the last 2 years with no problems. I logged on to this site and found it was very similar to the one I had been looking at, only better! With this site you could register a landine and/or a mobile to create an account, then, when you wanted to call somebody, you dial a number they supply on registering, then the number you want. It means you transfer to their exchange and pay a fraction of what you would normally pay people like BT or Virgin, then every month they email you a an invoice of the calls you've made and you pay online. It all sounds a bit iffy I know but, as I said, my brother has been using this service for couple of years with no problems and saved pounds. I was itching to try it out so I phoned our good friends Rod & Shirley in Nashville which was great and we spoke for just under 13 minutes. Then I went to the 1899 site, opened my account details, and there were the details of the call I had just made, and it cost me the grand total of 16p! It takes some believing, and just to make it more unbelievable, I could have used my mobile to make the call at the same price! So, for anyone who's interested, go to www.1899.com and save yourself a wad of money.
Talking about saving money, here's another goodie Dave came up with. All of us at some time or other have had to call an 0870 (or similar) number, and, whatever system you're on you've got to pay for the call. Well, try this site www.saynoto0870.com Log on to this site, punch in a search on whatever the number is you've got to call, and hey presto, it'll give you a FREE alternative! I checked it out by doing a search on a number on my latest phone bill from Virgin Media, which turned out to be THEIR number (which I'd been billed for) and there was an 0800 number which would have free. I'm not saying you'll always find a free alternative, but it's got to be worth checking before you make the call because, if you're anything like me, you object strongly to feeding fat cats up the ass when you needn't. Have fun!
I've just had this email from Ramrod which is very appropriate for the time of year:
Spend a couple of minutes to read this outstanding Christmas Poem.