name that tune.....

another quiet week in worthing following my birthday celebrations. i think i survived. nice family meal (both nice, the family and the meal) and onwards for some musical diversion. knowing that i like the odd bit of music (yes, very odd sometimes) my family got me an ipod with the capacity to put a man on the moon - undoubtedly more than enough to hold my eclectic collection. anyway it got me thinking about what music has meant to me over the years. why do i like certain types of music? some people go for technical ability, or the words, or the mood or simply the moment. it’s not about “genre” whatever that means. surely you just listen to music you like but maybe that’s my defensive response to being defined as a country fan. i confess to liking some country music but i defy anyone to sit through a steve earl or wilco concert and not feel the walls shake. even allison krauss (an excellent though relatively refined bluegrass musician) has recently achieved acclaimed album success with an old led zepp stalwart. besides; how many rock legends pay homage to the influence of hank, gram and the man in black amongst others on their music? but where did my love of music start?

mid 50s: my sister olga and brother john loved music and sang in local halls. i remember and could still sing ‘singing the blues’ by guy mitchell, ‘last train to san fernando’ by johnny duncan, “rock island line” by lead belly (later lonnie donegan). and then there was ruby murray (remembered for the wrong reason today); who remembers wink martindale’s ‘deck of cards’ or ‘who’s sorry now’ by connie francis. frankly i’m surprised at the tunes and lyrics that are flooding my brain as i sit here, late at night, in front of blank screen with a mind that can’t remember what it had for dinner. must move on quickly or this could be the longest blog in history….

the 60s: we all remember, or know of, the music of the era. beatles, stones, dave clarke, manfred mann, marmalade..... the list goes on and on. but the music that is etched in to my psyche belongs to the mamas and papas, simon and garfunkle and in my college years, leonard cohen - a much maligned writer. a rare poet with a wry sense of humour. if you cut your wrists to his songs you missed the point! i didn’t go to much live music in those days – there wasn’t too much to go to in norn iron but i did get to see taste with a young rory gallagher, nina simone, woody herman and his herd - still remember that gig vividly although we didn’t use the word “gig” then. what does it mean literally? the best brass and woodwind musicians i have ever heard! even went to see our cilla, englebert and herman’s hermits live. englebert kindly did requests and someone in omagh asked for “the cow with the crumpled horn”. sadly , he didn’t do it.

just realised how long this blog could be. it could become a serial to run through the 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s to include neil young ...ryan adams.....dylan....van....nanci griffith....emmylou....kristofferson.....morrissey....elvis costello....cowboy junkies....iris dement....gary moore....john prine....moody blues....joan baez....jeff finlin....roger mcguinn...bob woodruff....suzy bogus...billy bragg...thea gilmore....tom russell....jason downes....bruce springsteen....brian wilson....chip taylor...josh ritter....richard thompson and many many more. who? i hear you ask. you don’t know my favourites any more than i know yours but that’s the joy of music. it’s what you like and when and where you liked it – loud, quiet, meaningful, subversive or simply nonsense. it doesn't matter.

finally leo - keep singing the blues. it still works for me. we’ll get our free bus pass together.

you are old, father william, the young man said……….

another quiet week in worthing so time to reflect –

what is “old”? can you see, feel, smell, taste or touch it? i hit 60 tomorrow and i still don’t know. is it in the body, the mind or the soul?

is it simply the perception of others or is it within me? when my dad was 60 i was 11. that seemed old then but he was a survivor and he hung around long enough to become my best friend. my mother too. neil young said it best “once an angel, always an angel. you’re as close to heaven as i will ever be”. whatever the family crisis, she simply said “och”. there is no word in the dictionary to adequately describe the calm that expression conveyed. it came straight from the heart, nowhere else, and said everything we needed to hear; sympathy, remorse, pain, rebuke….. but that doesn’t answer my question. am i old?

my body has seldom been good. rugby, athletics, cricket, football, volleyball…. all quite useful in my youth with awards to confirm a modest prowess. once scored a try at ravenhill and trod the same hallowed turf as the great mike gibson, the all blacks, the springboks and even my brother roy who did so in a much more distinguished way. played rugby in dublin on the day they blew up nelson’s column. shook hands with nick faldo, chris eubank, terry neil, lawrie sanchez, sven and nancy amongst others and watched the hurricane play snooker in a dingy hall in belfast before he blew out the lights all over the uk. transient!

my mind has never grown old. i still see myself the way i was and sometimes the way i would like to be. but what of others? mary was, is and will always be the best person i ever met. david, tony and iain give me equal pride and reason to go on. remarkably, i still have some good friends who walk with me, talk to me and tolerate my ramblings.

what of the soul? inherent guilt! an old prayer too often rattles round my brain “i have done those things i ought not to have done and left undone those things i ought to have done…...” true: but i really hope i have not hurt anybody along the way.

hey, ho. still time to put things right. lots to do. normal service resumed tomorrow….

i was alright for a while

yet another quiet week in worthing so what should i write about? really don’t want to write at all and had resigned myself to the fact that nobody read this nonsense. it is my confessional. but it seems a few disconsolate souls await the next instalment. sadly i could name them – you know who you are. this is for you.

what have i done, where have i been? donegal again - if you die without seeing it you haven’t lived. elsewhere billy connelly was outrageous but predictable. cowboy junkies were magnificent. the producers was the best musical i have seen. but there has to be a highlight - don mclean? “we love you, don” someone shouted from the floor [who, why?] but he was gracious enough to reply “i know you do and that’s why i come back”. call me sentimental but that meant a lot to some of us old softies.

i met a girl who sang the blues
and i asked her for some happy news,
but she just smiled and turned away.
i went down to the sacred store
where I’d heard the music years before,
but the man there said the music wouldn’t play……

or –

flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
swirling clouds in violet haze,
reflect in vincent's eyes of china blue.
colours changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
weathered faces lined in pain,
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

that’s life!

oh ireland

another quiet week in worthing so went back to hibernia. the main attraction was to see stephen rea [great actor in my opinion] in a new play, specially written for him. frankly, i had never heard of the playright but surely he must be good to be in the famous abbey. don't ask! had absolutely no idea what was going on. rea was the only person on stage apart from a dead horse (and a young girl who emerged too briefly from the grave wearing very little - o/k there were some good parts) but it was absolute nonsense. thoroughly agreed with one reviewer who said "despite the celebrity appearance in this play, the one star rating goes to the horse". what a waste. could have been watching ireland getting hammered by france – it made more sense.

but things got better. thoroughly recommend a visit to kilmainham gaol. lots of history and, despite my "loyalist" background, i was moved by the sacrifices made by people who feel strongly enough to die for their country. but why? taking a cold war analogy would you rather be dead than red or red than dead? i think i prefer life. is that wrong?

next: went on a literary pub crawl. great crack. lots of clever quotes and anecdotes but the one i remember best is around brendan behan [look him up on google]. apparently, in the early 50s, the catholic clergy decreed that women shouldn't be allowed in to pubs because they corrupted men and encouraged evil thoughts. behan disagreed saying that an irishman is the only person on earth who would climb over 20 naked women to get to the bar. good man!

ted crilly remembered

another quiet few days in worthing, the calm only being disturbed by the delivery of our new recycling bins. don’t know why but it made me think of writing a song for europe.

My Lovely Bin

I’ve just been given a lovely bin.
It’s great for putting my rubbish in
It’s much bigger than the one I had before
and sits proudly outside my back door.

Chorus:
My lovely bin, oh my lovely bin.
It looks so pretty it makes me grin.
And when I gaze at my lovely bin
I think of all the nice things that I put in.

The council’s kind, they gave me two
One for food and one for news-
papers, plastic, tins and glass.
And you’ve got to say, they look really class.

Chorus.

I’ve had to put my number on
In case one day I find them gone.
Now it sits outside number 55
with all my detritus inside.

Chorus.

So when I die, don’t grieve for me
Just place me there, beneath that tree.
Decomposing slowly amid all my sin
Snugly inside my lovely bin.

Chorus.


Harry Gregg
September 2007

humble pie

another quiet week everywhere in worthing except in my bathroom. gastric distress! don't know what i ate, when or where but the outcome was torrential - followed by a period of acute flatulence. not pleasant. perhaps it was retribution for my unwarranted attack on the current state of english sport. o/k, before a plague is visited upon me and my family (who don’t deserve it), i admit i was wrong. i'm sorry. you did win at rugby, football and cricket. barry is the new messiah, heskey the phoenix and pieterson is still a springbok. norn iron were shit....doh! memories!

but there is always a bright side. tomatoes! remember my strawberry debacle? well i have had considerable success with the solanum lycopersicum. sweet, juicy and loads of them. having them with cream next summer - sod the ragaria.

my fingers are as green as the iridescent green beetle commonly found in the tambopata rainforest.

it's only a game

a quiet few weeks in worthing so i've had to look elsewhere. let's try sport. the "sport england" website in january 2006 [latest update as far as i can see] said -

"England is the second most successful sporting nation in the world. End of year world rankings based on sporting world championships and commissioned by Sport England suggest that, England is riding comfortably high ahead of the US, China and Germany. We are now in second place behind Australia . Three years ago we were in fourth place. More significantly, England is ranked fifth in the world in sports that matter most to the public, such as football, rugby, cricket and tennis, a move from tenth place, three years ago. Roger Draper, chief executive of Sport England, says:“We have always been a passionate sporting nation and done well in minority sports. But now with victory in the Ashes, and with a real chance in next year’s football World Cup, the momentum is with us.”

o/k tempus fugit but who writes this bollocks? it was wrong then and it's wrong now. where's the evidence? let's have an update!

tip: take 33/1 each way on ireland rugby!

if cricket's your game support findon at lords on sunday. free entry, no excuse for not being there!

scary or what?

what the hell is it? the first wife saw it first and i haven't seen her since. no wonder the strawberries didn't make it. it's a wonder i have a garden at all with these buggers lurking in the undergrowth.

there it was. munching like mad amongst my fuchsias. did it intend to be there or was it simply confuchsiad? perhaps it was looking for my tomatoes, or maybe my first wife, or even steve irwin? still haven't seen her for the last couple of hours. if i knew where she was hiding i would be there.

but pleased to see that my geography degree has at last proved useful after 37 years. you will notice that the pen is strategically placed to illustrate the scale of the beast - not to encourage mating. the last thing we need are pens with multiple bloody eyes and big teeth. tried to dispose of the thing by throwing it into an adjacent playing field. big field. very big field – missed! now afraid to go down the alleyway. what size might it be by now? local cats have gone missing

afraid to go to bed. sod this gardening!

no more leg overs

another quiet week in worthing.

o/k i know my blog is supposed to be about walking but it’s much more than that - a man thing. peter took us on a trek a few weeks ago where we encountered innumerable insurmountable objects - stiles. stiles. bloody big ones. my inside leg 29.5 inches; stile height 32 inches - outcome bollocks or lack of. no more walking for me until the ointment works.

who said "you should always train hard and bust your butt"? you guessed – tiger after his 13th major. and I always thought it came so easy. i could do beer festivals for ireland – is there a competition?

went to the edinburgh festival last week. lots of shows. the more i laughed the more i expected to laugh until i didn’t know if i was laughing at all - but I knew when I wasn’t laughing. my favourites - family meals (not a show), tom russell, deafy’s island discs, simon amstell, forgotten voices, this piece of earth.

good times never seemed so good

getting the hang of this "picture" thing just as it seems to be going out of fashion. well that's an improvement. i normally get the hang of things just as they come back into fashion.

much excitement this evening! went to watch brighton play northern ireland. well fulham actually but they are gradually bringing lawrie's green and white army on board. split loyalties! i like the seagulls and they played well promising hope for the coming season. but i really wanted to see the boys in green playing in white. i even brought my norn iron shirt (last worn in underarm, underarm copenhagen) to the game; carefully concealed in a lakeland carrier bag - that's how proud i am to wear the colours.

anyway! learning from my ignominious and groveling remarks to mr eubank [see earlier] i decided to be more courteous towards mr sanchez. having attracted the great man’s attention by brandishing my green cloth and scribbling nonchalently in the air (similar to the action used to attract a waiter's attention in a restaurant) i told him he "should be proud of what he had done for northern ireland football" and wished him and his team well in the coming season. he smiled benignly and graciously, probably fearing assault by an imbecile wielding an indelible marker pen. friendly fire i think it's called. if truth be told he was charming and went on to sign my shirt and programmes left, right and centre for folk around.

hence the picture. i know it's sad but i'm happy.

eureka

well! this is it! was it worth it? the result of several gallons of water, many renditions of leonard cohen favourites and much love and attention. one, yes one, strawberry - but a very nice one. invited the neighbours around to share a fruit cocktail but couldn’t help feeling they went away disappointed.

what's in a name?

another quiet month in worthing. unseasonable weather and events in hibernia conspired to numb my funny-bone. is it better to celebrate a life [too] well lived or mourn wasted opportunities. i don’t know but, as mr cash said, "i still miss someone".

back to thoughts about the real world. remember the strawberries? i promised never to mention them again but i must. they were crap. they looked like albino haemorrhoids and tasted like….well i didn’t dare taste them. might never speak to peter again. my mates had great success. all down to a lack of sun apparently. perhaps it really does only shine on the righteous?


you may also recall that i made fun of place names in eire a few weeks ago. well it’s no better up north. ballinamallard (why not remove it?), lack (only a useful place name for limericks), gillygooley (a limerick in itself) and so it goes on. don’t get me wrong, i love the place . indeed nigel will soon have lawrie’s army strutting their stuff on the world stage again.

getting into summer sports. very disappointed that the slovakian girl is out of wombleton. i miss those legs. but darren has nice legs too and he will soon be crazily carving his way round carnoustie (do all the celts go in for funny names?). the sharks have lost their teeth and are playing like a shoal of suckers.

off to see thespians soon in london and edinburgh so more later, when the sun comes out…..but then it might be a long wait

top o' the mornin' to you

another quiet week in worthing, i think - wasn’t here for most of it. went to see the cork and kerry mountains. stereotypically they were wrapped in cotton wool so didn’t see captain farrel either. everything and everywhere seemed to have a song written about it – except macgillycuddy’s reeks. wonder why? are the place names real? skibbereen, ballydehob,, ballynacarriga (perhaps that’s a dance?). i’m going to rename my town....worthyjinglybobs

came back refreshed and, as promised, got the waggler out. not a bite. however better luck with the pole – hope it had a work permit! note: must review my bait. thought the carp would succumb to the scrummy spar spam sozzled overnight in five spice. knew i should have added balsamic vinegar. delicate palates at passies. the only thing i got all day was a lobster complexion, without sun. how bizarre.

exciting weekend. went to a bar-billiards competition. what’s that all about? the balls kept scuttling down random holes scattered all over the table only to be replaced in their original positions. surprisingly nobody seemed pleased when i helpfully sellotaped the holes to avoid more accidents. why hasn't anybody else thought of doing that? and where/how do people practice this game? does it really exist? is there a world champion? perhaps he lives in worthydejinglebobs .

went walking along the seafront yesterday. counted 1,947 seagulls. interesting!

still walking

another quiet week in worthing.

wednesday: we went walking across part of the south downs. deep joy! if you haven’t been there, no matter where you read this across the globe, then you must come to enjoy the moment. all four of us walked from cissbury to chantonbury - so pleasant, so tranquil. we even strayed up buddington’s bottom – how we enjoyed the crack. leo was intrigued to find evidence that sheep had got there before us. we wondered if buddington liked his vice versa.

who said climbing up hills is a struggle? not me. it’s the coming down. gravity is a very strange thing. i don’t like it much and feel we would be much better off without it. body screaming i remembered what my son told me. do it in zig-zags – it will take the strain off your knees. no it bloody doesn’t! it sends you off, hurtling helplessly towards the precipice with no obvious means of recovery. but we reached the bottom, slowly. very envious of buddington. he only had the sheep to contend with.

took the bus home. such a good idea we wondered why we hadn’t taken it in the first place. might retire my legs.

thursday: intend to paint the soffits. don’t ask – i don’t know either. never thought i’d see the day when i spent the day painting somebody who deceives people with clever-sounding but flawed arguments or explanations.

friday: hope to get my waggler out for the first time this year. looking forward to catching the first carp. sorry! what did you think i meant?

oh doctor i'm in trouble

another quiet week in worthing. to my amazement the strawberries seem to be thriving. i sing to them a lot. at first i worried that they couldn’t understand me. oh how they drooped out of their sad little apertures! but when i stopped the leonard cohen cheerful tunes they perked up remarkably. they seem to like jaunty little irish ditties best. i notice my neighbour has put his house up for sale. not sure i need to wear the balaclava.

went to the theatre this afternoon. excellent show - a “who done it” in the vatican. actually i'm not sure if anything was done at all; we needed cardinal colombo but alas he never appeared. however i was somewhat unnerved at having a real doctor who (the fourth one) sitting directly behind. you know the one. big chap, bushy black hair, long scarf. wanted to ask if they grew strawberries on gallifrey but discretion got the better of me. i had learned from the time i met chris eubank and told him he had given me a lot of pleasure over the years. still haven’t recovered!

i was disappointed the doctor didn’t have sarah with him. my first wife was disappointed it wasn’t the tenth doctor in the first place. too surreal. went home much amused thinking the first step is the tardis.

fandabidozi

another quiet day in worthing. sore heads after we celebrated late into the night in bosnia and herzegovina following our neighbour's success in the singing world cup. it is good that wee jimmy krankie has at last found international fame.

word gets around

another quiet day in worthing. thought there’d be lots to talk about following the curry and darts but alas, the curry passed (boy did it pass) and the darts flew. ephemeral is the word that springs to mind but not sure if that was the curry or the ointment. anyway it’s gone now and i don’t miss it.

to jolly our curry conversation along i made the mistake of mentioning my strawberries (again but for the last time i hope). amazingly everyone seemed to have heard about my tribulations and were willing to embark on their own adventures. peter now has an order for several dozen plants. they’ll all end in tiers and we’ll be on the curly kale next.

we’re an odd crowd – sort of last of the summer wine meets men behaving badly. we talk a lot and laugh a lot but mostly we try to remember what we talked and laughed about. do you know, when we were in france the other day, paul pointed out something he had never seen before; a satellite dish that faced down instead of up. how did that work? we were perplexed but impressed at french ingenuity. was it picking up aussie soaps or something from the underworld? or was someone watching us as we sat in the roadside bistro? no, it was a street light. oh how we laughed when realisation dawned. we came home to worthing much relieved.

not sure I can keep these daily bulletins up. do you realise how difficult it is to write about nothing? i will now wait for something interesting to happen. blimey......what was that noise?

fretting

another quiet day in worthing. worried myself silly about my earlier reference to the two strawberry planters - would they turnip on my doorstep? thankfully not yet!

anyway the strawberries are now planted. have you ever tried to plant things in a planter; hard to describe but it is a tallish pot with holes in the side for the fruit to grow out of. well it's not easy. how do you fill anything with holes in the side? if this works it will be a miracle.

don't fret, there will be more exciting news tomorrow. going for a lunchtime curry and it's darts in the evening. can't wait.

what day is it?

another quiet day in worthing. got my hair cut this morning - just off the ears and straight across the back. no idea what that means in terms of snipping bits off all parts of the cranium but the barber seemed to know and nodded knowingly. this always leaves me feeling quite satisfied, don’t know why! glad i didn't ask for a number one as some of my friends do - that must look awful on top of the head. went to b&q to get some grow bags. my mate peter gave me some little strawberries last week and said that's what they need so i did what he said. when i was there i also bought some petunias (wonder what they will look like - do they also need a grow bag?), two strawberry planters (earthenware things to put strawberry plants in, not two blokes.) and two tins of cuprinol. spent a fortune. if he hadn't given me the bloody strawberries i wouldn't have had either the expense or the additional work. friends – doh!

good old fry up for dinner. 2367 calories but it tasted great.

am i wise?

it seemed like a good idea to write a blog. lots of people do it and seem to enjoy it so why shouldn't I? my sons are very good at it - well they make me laugh. trouble is, at this moment, I don't have anything remotely interesting to say - so why bother? part of me says if i don't start now i never will. the other says i have to write a sentence that doesn't end with a question mark. another part (i have lots of parts - some work, some don't) seems to think i am incapable of being disciplined enough to keep this up. well i'd like to see if i can so if there are rotund walkers, decrepit gardeners, goofy golfers, pathetic painters or generally inebriated gentle-folk out there i hope i will write something moderately interesting for you. or if any younger folk wish to join in you are very welcome. as tom paxton said to me once (and to a few hundred others in the audience) "i still feel as young as i ever did but i seem to knock around with an older crowd". is that the way the world goes around?

just startin'

this is my first attempt at a blog - more to follow