ir·i·des·cence

I awoke this morning to the noxious scent of cat piss.  I could smell it on the pillowcase - whether it’s the pillow underneath and now therefore the pillowcase as well or just the case itself I don’t know - and on the duvet cover near to where my head was positioned.  The material wasn’t even damp so I must have gotten into it last night and dropped off too quickly to really notice it.  I wonder if one can be damaged by breathing in animal urea while asleep?  I told Mum and she said I was imagining it until she stepped into the room and was hit with the full force of this rather nasty feline-related pong, one that makes a wet and angry looking cat turd sitting in a litter tray seem positively fragrant by comparison.  Not long after, Bramble got up and began sniffing all around the areas where I’d smelled it.  Is anything worse than the acrid ammonia stench of cat urine?

There were 6 of us going to the Sinatra show, so we all met up at one cousin’s house and it wasn’t long before we had loaded up the people carrier and were off.  We encountered a little congestion on the way but once we came off the Chiswick flyover, it was a piece of cake.  We drove to Turnham Green and parked the car and if we hadn’t got a space so quickly, looking back, there’s no way we would have got to the Palladium on time.  We walked across to the Tube station and paid for 6 tickets at £4.90 each and then headed for the train.  We took it to Embankment then changed trains via the Bakerloo line to Oxford Circus.  The theatre was just a few hundred yards away and we arrived literally as the lights were dimming.  Another minute and we would have been left outside until the interval.

What was the show like?  In some ways it was a little disappointing.  I was led to believe that images of Sinatra had been cut from the archival footage so it was as if he was walking across the stage but this wasn’t really the case.  He was cut from footage for the scenes where he was interacting with other people in footage images but at no point were we, the audience, made to feel he was there in the flesh for us.  Screens would obtrusively come down with images of Frank on it and they would move from left to right, so in effect what you were seeing was a sort of documentary but with a 40 piece orchestra and dancers. 

There were some great set pieces though.  Early on, there was black & white footage of a street scene playing out on a screen and it showed people walking about and the dancers would time it so that the people on screen appeared to be coming out of the picture and onto the stage then an actor would walk across and go behind the screen and their exact 1940’s doubles would then re-emerge as part of the film footage.  That was quite novel.

There was another scene whereby Frank was sitting at a bar and there was a female dancer on stage and by the use of cameras she became a part of the scene so there was an interaction between them, with him looking back on a couple of occasions to where she was standing.  The other scene of note was when Frank was walking about in a room with Ava Gardner by a window.  They had managed to throw a shadow from him onto the wall so it was as if he was actually there with her.  The bizarre thing though was that she was stationary, a picture, within the scene whereas he was walking about. 

These things irritated very quickly and added to the sense of disappointment I felt regarding the show.  Yes, he was being cut from the surrounding footage for the film sequences and then placed into that context and that was all good and fine but for us, the audience, the same respect wasn’t to be afforded.  Sure, we were treated to dazzling dance routines and a brilliant big band with fantastic musicians but set to these screens coming down with Frank on them.  It felt like we were watching a sort of giant 3-D TV special.  I felt slightly short changed by it.  However it was a night out in London and that’s no bad thing though the Palladium seemed a lot smaller than I thought it would be, which in a way was indicative of the evening - the limited sense of something that should have been far more ambitious.  Still, I’m glad I went.

I’m taking a temporary break from blogging. I shall still visit the neighbourhood but shalln’t be posting at the moment. Love to you all xxxxx.

I opened the door this morning and looked out and you could have been fooled into thinking that Autumn was here - it was damp, freezing cold and windy and even the cats, who love all things natural, weren’t having any of it and shied away from the door.  I don’t blame them.

I went out yesterday to the charity shops and picked up some things.  I got a book I’ve heard about and wanted for some time entitled The Curious Incident of a Dog in The Night-Time by Mark Haddon, which is a murder mystery seen through the eyes of a 15 year old boy living with Asperger’s Syndrome.  The Onion tells me it’s excellent so I bow to her superior peely layered loveliness!

I also picked up Billy Connolly’s World Tour of Scotland on 2 videos in a boxed set for £2; a dvd for Mum called Connie & Carla; some Mills & Boon books for her; the film Awakenings which I’ve never seen all the way through; a little something extra to send out to The Onion for her birthday next month and an album entitled Perspective by Jason Becker. 

Jason’s story is one of the greatest tragedies in the music industry.  He was one half of a stunning guitar duo called Cacophony in the 80’s, alongside Marty Friedman who later went on to play with Megadeth.  His last full album was A Little Ain’t Enough for David Lee Roth when he noticed he’d developed a limp in one of his legs and felt a numbness and slight weakness in his fingering hand.  By the end of the aforementioned album, he couldn’t play the guitar without his hands shaking quite considerably. 

Well, he went through a battery of tests and ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) was diagnosed.  Within 5 years, he was living in a wheelchair as the Photos page attests.  There’s a pic of him with his head on one hand and he’s sitting over a guitar, that was taken in 1992 just 2 years after his diagnosis.  If you go further down you can see him beside a tree with all his guitars around him and that’s just 3 years later and it’s like looking at a different person.  It’s such a waste, a terrible shame in musical terms though I admire his tenacity and determination to carry on in the bleakest of circumstances.

On another note entirely, I was across at Longrider’s blog when I saw this post.  I couldn’t have said it better myself.  Brilliant. 

I’m sitting here listening to Vulture Street by the Australian band Powderfinger and loving it. I would put them up there with Spiderbait. Brilliant. It rocks. Praise be The Onion!

I’m sitting here at the computer (obviously) and I have 3 CD’s by my side - Vulture Street by Powderfinger; the Original Soundtrack to the film Ray; and From Clarkesdale to Heaven - Remembering John Lee Hooker.

Oh and I must tell you (and I wish I had a digital camera) a phenomenal lilac shirt with a unique kind of lined pattern. Help me Onion, how would you describe it? I LOVE IT and can’t wait to wear it. The canal trip is the obvious day. When I took it out of the now familiar handwritten (I LOVE YOU, thank you babes) packaging, I actually said “Mum, wow! Look at this” and Mum came over and said “ooooh I like that” I said “yeah so do I” and came upstairs with it.

It’s hanging over the banister - hang on, I’ll try it on brb - okay I’m back and it fits brilliantly! The cats love it, I tried it on in Mum’s bedroom where they’re both currently residing. Okay, so I need to lose my paunch but it’s the right length in the arms and body and there’s sufficient room across the chest. Wonderful. I’m very happy. I get down days where I just feel terrible about myself and yesterday was one of those and now I feel on top of the world again.

Thank you Onion xxxx.

I’m off on another railway jaunt in September. Yesterday was so much fun that I wanted to see if all the tickets had been sold for the trip to Havenstreet Railway on the Isle of Wight. Nope, there were a few left so I booked up and that’s where I’ll be heading off to very soon. The woman that sat across from us yesterday will be going but I doubt if I’ll be sitting near her and as I said, she likes to dash off on her own when she’s reached somewhere, so I doubt we’ll get to connect. Still, it will be another day out and a chance to see something different.

After visiting the railway, the rest of the day will be spent in Ryde. The Onion and I have been there and seen practically everything so I’ll see about getting a train or bus ticket for the island and using that. I’m not going to revisit the Donkey Sanctuary or The Buddle Inn as they’re things I’d like to do with The Onion if she fancies it? I’ll find something to do though and I’m sure I’ll have a nightmare either getting to it, getting in or getting back from there, knowing me! Right, that’s that trip taken care of. Mum, Pam & I are going on the Kennet & Avon Canal Cruise next Tuesday and The Onion & I are heading to Brighton in October, so it’s all fine and dandy where day trips are concerned.

I boarded the coach outside Primark and got out my Does Anything Eat Wasps? book and my boiled sweets and waited to set off, thinking this will be a bloody long trip.  Then this old chap came and sat beside me and we basically spent the whole day together, which was fun and certainly passed the time.  Him and I chatted the entire length of the trip.  There was a woman sitting across from us, we were sitting facing back on all journeys including trains for some reason, and although she went off on her own was a mine of information about all types of things, churches, dinosaurs, travel surveys, railways, you name it. 

There were tea/coffee/hot chocolate facilities on the coach and a toilet.  We set off at 7.45am and arrived in Kidderminster at just before 10.30am though our train wasn’t due to depart until 11.45am.  We walked down the main street where Ray (that was my companion’s name) found himself a cafe and got himself a hot bacon sandwich.  We headed back up to the station and into the pub they had there and enjoyed a glass of Cornish Knocker and a cigar each!  It was just what the doctor ordered.  It was then time to board the Severn Valley Railway for our trip through to Bridgnorth. 

We went through some beautiful countryside; past a Safari Park with elephants, buffalo, antelope and all sorts; over bridges; past reservoirs; through valleys; and of course, quite a few lovely little restored stations including one which was used for the crap BBC comedy “Oh Doctor Beeching!”  We arrived at Bridgnorth at just after 1pm and were told to be back by 2.40pm for our 2.50pm departure back to Kidderminster to get the coach from the station at 4.15pm.  Ray wanted to find the Funicular Railway, so we trudged off across a bridge and then down into Bridgnorth itself before finding what we were looking for down a tiny alleyway which if you’d blinked you’d have missed. 

The Bridgnorth Castle Hill Cliff Railway was wonderful.  It was 80p return, a bargain.  We took a pic each (I let him have a disposable camera, as I’d brought two with me) of the cliff rail above us and after a few others had got on, we went up the track.  I looked at the actual cables and they both looked very worn and that worried me slightly but I coped and made it.  Our tickets were ripped in half at the top (and sadly taken at the bottom so no souvenir of that I’m afraid!) and we made our way along the walkway and took photos of the town below, then walked to a great big church and went inside.  They had a guestbook there and was very tempted to put as my name Beelzebub or Satan and as my location “here, there and everywhere” but Ray was like a limpet and as he was Roman Catholic, I thought he probably wouldn’t have seen the funny side. 

We left there and found ourselves a lovely little Tea Room, where we had a cuppa each and a slice of bakewell tart warmed up with custard, which was lovely.  He looked at his watch (it was 2.15pm) and said we should head off back to the Funicular Railway and so we did.  When we arrived at the bottom it was 2.30pm and he said “I don’t think I can make the hill Jon.”  At this point, I must confess, I did start to panic.  “We’ll get a cab” he said.  Only we soon realised that there were no cabs local to the town and there was no way one was going to get to us before the deadline so we set off, me going slightly ahead and basically lying to him and saying “not far now Ray” and with him (an 84 year old man, 1 year shy of his Diamond wedding anniversary, aided by a walking stick) hobbling away behind me.  Well, we did make it but you could have lit the darkest train tunnel from the light and heat from his face. 

We got to our seats and he just slumped there clutching his chest and arm.  I said “blimey, don’t go dying on me Ray” and he grinned and said he’d be okay in a minute or two.  The train left and it wasn’t until we were about a mile or so out of Bridgnorth, I saw that the chap directly opposite me looked just like Chris Hughes, the big fat-necked bloke on Eggheads and the chap sitting to our left looked like an elderly Basil Rathbone!  Anyhow, we got back to Kiddermister where some more pics were taken of each of us though now I realise I don’t have any of Ray on my camera, as I’d used his to take ones of him for his missus and family.  We got on the coach, set off and were back in Reading by just before 7pm.  I caught a 23 which brought me back home the long way round but was indoors by 7.25pm.  All in all, not a bad day, even if the chap sitting across from me on the coach was wearing the exact same jumper as me!  What were the chances of that?

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’

Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?’
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Mum and I headed into town today but not before she’d taken some pics of me out in the garden for The Onion. I took one of her too. We shopped, we stopped for a cuppa and a slice of carrot cake, then we shopped some more. I bought 3 new jerseys, a pic of me in one of them has been taken for the very same Alium Cepa. I also saw an album The Onion had bought when we were in Winchester - Remembering John Lee Hooker - in the poundstore. I bought all they had - 9 copies. It normally retails at £12.99 so it’s all good. I have a copy on its way to me, so that’s 9 Xmas pressies sorted out except I opened one by accident. So, 8 Xmas pressies and 1 spare for me in case Mum goes on a cleaning blitz in my bedroom and I lose one.

I also picked up a book in FOPP entitled Does Anything Eat Wasps? and 101 Other Questions. It was £7.99 in Waterstones and I picked it up for a fiver! Mum bought herself some clothes in Marks & Spencer, they were all £2 but she can’t take them back but that’s okay. I also found what I’m very likely going to get my beautiful darling Onion for her birthday and I know she’ll love it. We got a sandwich each from Sainsbury’s and sat in Broad Street and ate them then made our way back home. It was a really good day. Tomorrow, I’m off on a trip with Goldline to the Severn Valley Railway so have to be there at 7.30am for that. Mum’s gone to see if she can find me a paper bag for the trip as I will inevitably get a panic attack on the coach but if I don’t go and face this it will only get worse. Right, I’m off here to get another cuppa and spend time with the cats.