Just read the news about poor old Rolf, or not, as his case may turn out. Was that just a budgie he was smuggling in his Speedo's after all? No doubt we will find out. George Thornton makes an interesting point - do you rush out and buy his art or sell up? I'll leave that to George, but no one should ever buy any of his bleedin' records.
Just returned from a local council planning meeting at Rushcliffe Borough Council. I can fully understand headlines now when we read "local man goes mad with machete...." For those not familiar with such things, councillors not machetes, the elected great and good, or should I say egotistical failed wannabe politicians, pontificate on building design and development within their local borough - giving it a thumbs up or down. How many great building schemes have melted away through such a stone-age system. Councillors dismembering building designs, contrary to advice of their own professional Planning Officers and with no respect for talented hard earned architectural qualification and schemes prepared at huge expense and great consultation. I cannot believe how bloody ignorant, hypocritical and narrow minded they are. Many barely breathing, 500 years old, if a day. I think every Joe Public should have to attend one of these just to see how their hard earned coin is wasted.
I've just received an email saying Terry Alderton's playing at Ronnie Scott's Establishment Club comedy night in a couple of weeks. Check him out on Youtube. He does this weird split personality thing. Very funny and scary. Looks like Eddie Izzard on steroids. You wouldn't want him sliding through your letter box in the small hours. I went there a few months ago to see John Cooper Clarke. I thought he was dead. He looks about 200 - as he said "He doesn't buy green bananas at his age. I do know he was dead funny. What a talented bloke. I suppose there's a pattern emerging here, all the best stuff seems to be old....
I'm still trying to work out how to remove the bird guano from the body cavity of an old semi-acoustic, all over that essential red label. Not to mention the Barney Kassel covered in something I'm sure you need a licence and enviro' suit to handle. I think I'll scrape it off and post it to Kim Jong-un for one of his war heads. Somebody ought to stick it up his arse. What a nut job.
The place is filling up fast with musty guitar cases reeking of nicotine and beer. Some look like they've been stored in a barn under a leaky tractor. God knows why Fender spend so much time and effort on their Roadworn Series. I could sort it in a heart beat.
Back to work trying to arrange long distance packing and delivery of a vintage Hofner, worrying about transit damage, will it turn up? It's turned up handled and packed to perfection but looks like a breeze block was left inside the case along with a bunch of firewood and wire. Turns out it was originally sold at the legendary Frank Hessy's in Liverpool around 1959. Only the place where John's Aunt Mimi bought him a guitar - who knows whose played it...
... the first one. The day got off to a flying start, impulse purchase of Hyde Park tickets to see the Strolling Bones, you can call them all you like but they are still one of the best rock and roll acts in the world, probably not for much longer. Pleased with myself, I then discovered it's the day after we go on holiday.