Thursday, March 14, 2013

more thursday!

Write on your blog, they say. People that matter read that kind of thing, they say, and take notice. Yet here we are, despite my previous complaint, Thursday again. I thought this was a democracy.

Last night we went and saw Neil Young & Crazy Horse. It was an extraordinary show, with just the right amount of preconceived theatre, and just the right amount of what (what must surely have been) improvisation. Almost all of the recent album got a look in, which was great, I like that album a lot. A few gems from the back catalogue. 'Cortez the Killer' was particularly amazing, for what was left out and what was overlaid. Sensational drumming and he was just using hot rods for crying out loud! During one atonal workout some wit in the crowd yelled 'Yeah do it in your own time Neil' but really, no one who was even a passing fan of NY (&/or CH) could have felt that there was something better they could have been doing last night.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Swan Hill on a Sunday

'Jeez, it's like Swan  Hill on a flamin' Sunday round here,' grunted Alf.
'Pull the other one, Alf,' drawled Lance. 'I think you'll find it does in point of fact have bells on it.'




Monday, March 11, 2013

I dreamt about Patti Newtown

It is getting later in the year, despite the appalling weather (over 30 degrees every day for weeks now). I am writing just before 7 am and it has not yet got light, which shouldn't surprise me but it does, a little. I dreamt last night that I was about 10 stories above Swanston Street, perhaps on a precipice, north of Latrobe Street. I saw a block away someone walking a ridiculous amount of dogs - probably about 30 of them - all in order of size, in a line. There was only one beagle. They did tricks in the middle of the street. Patti Newton lived in a Manhattan style apartment at ground level on the opposite side of the street, and I saw her leaving her home to do some errands. We had had some limited contact in the past, and I knew if we got to know each other we would be firm friends, but at this point I was not even sure she would remember me.

I am not sure why I would dream about Patti Newton, although she seems very nice. 

Friday, March 08, 2013

the building where I worked for six years, pretty much gone

Oddly enough the section that contained my office was almost the very last bit to go, a scenario I choose to interpret as a mark of respect.