What’s the definition of a mad dog. Definitely one that has worked out how to climb onto the kitchen work tops, pinches a box of tea bags and then sprints around the garden scattering tea everywhere. Definitely top canine entertainment for the mad one.
After that mad 10 minutes then there could only be one record I played as I sat down to do some work. Yes a bit one music perfection in the form of one of Yorkshire’s finest. Joe Cocker is sadly missed.
This is one if my oldest records. I accidentally pinched it from one of my older siblings. They never noticed all those years ago, so I’m probably safe now. My kind sibling bought it in 1970. I kind of acquired it around 10 years later….
They don’t make them like this anymore. Gatefold with full size poster.
Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun…..
Well we have a mad dog. We have an Englishman. Still waiting for the sun sadly……
It’s amazing how dealing with just a couple of work emails can send me heading towards the chocolate jar and thinking fondly of getting marooned on a tropical island with absolutely ZERO internet connectivity.
I needed to relax.
What better way than dig out a bit of vinyl and listen to music. I love music BUT not enough to carefully categorise and sort the LPs into any meaningful order. Preferring the random, hotchpotch approach. So this afternoon I opened one of the storage cases and grabbed 3 records. Let’s see what musical treats came my way.
First off a definite blast from my long hair, rocker past. I think most teenage rocking males of my generation would claim to have at least one Pat Benatar album somewhere in the bedroom.
Then an odd LP. Sometimes you buy because you love the band. Sometimes you buy because of the music. Then other times you buy because it’s a cool looking picture disc.
Then finally arguably my most random records. When I was 12 I jumped on a plane for the first time. Headed for my only trip so far to the Southern Hemisphere. To visit my big sister who had emigrated to South Africa. A month in Pretoria and Johannesburg. A staggeringly beautiful yet scary and incomprehensible Apartheid dominated land. My sister lived in an area which was still to have a functioning television service. So they listened to the radio, played records and at weekends either went to the cinema drive-in or hired a movie reel and played it on the noisy home super 8 projector.
My sister always seemed to play one record back then. IPI TOMBI. A show featuring traditional indigenous South African music. Fast forward many years and I was at a car boot sale in deepest Yorkshire. Guess what I found. Brings back so many memories.
I accept that those big adventures are seemingly just out of reach for the foreseeable future. Maybe for all of 2021. It’s going to feel like a very small, constrained world. To make this work I need to keep finding ways to live within the castle walls. Even little things can and will make such a difference. Even 12 inches of round vinyl.
Yep I’ve finally dusted down the turntable.
Spent a few minutes listening to some LPs.
There is something reassuring about listening to those slightly crackly recordings. Memories start to flood back in. It’s a nice feeling. A little win.
So what was listened to yesterday.
Richard Burtons wonderful voice.
A little bit of early Pink Floyd
My favourite old group
Yes I did feel just that bit better after a bit of old school listening. Need to remember that. Need to find more time during this year. A little thing that does work.