wendy house

In my dream I was  still living with the *anker  that I actually  left in 2000 after years of building up the pluck to walk out.   Tight black leather jeans, tears bullying,   and that was just his his contribution to the dream, mine was even more icky.   I fell over several times at a cricket match during the game.   Most embaressing.  

Godley and Creme sang Under your thumb

The Wendy House has a novel coil-spring doorbell circa 1960′s. For some reason  it isn’t working.   WD-40 and a bit of fiddling hasn’t yet fixed it.  I do enjoy a personally relevant, memorable, chorus delivered with passion.   Ring my bell!

White Stripes sang Doorbell

Before metro-sexual, with the aide of Niel Innes,  people like me imagined urban spacemen.   I grew-up with a crush on Niel Innes.   He wears hats, plays the piano, and has eyebrowse that raise towards the centre of his brow.   Excellent.

Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band sang I’m The Urban Spaceman

The lines ‘hey you, you’re such a pedant, you’ve got as much brains as a dead ant, as much imagination as a caravan site…  …but I still love you’   have a touching brilliance that appealed to me as a child and are still poignantly pertinent

Niel Innes sang how sweet to be an idiot

The soulful behatted pianist who does not sell his songs to product advertising,  and does proactively support peace and respect for fellow human beings.   I was lucky enough to see him perform live in 2004 on the Real Gone tour.   Hero.

Tom Waits sings Tom Traubert’s blues

Living in windy Birmingham I quickly learned that my umbrella management skills were inadequate. The high turn-over of umbrellas was too burdensome for my student income. I started wearing hats, getting wet.

Walking through fountains.

Specifically the fountain infront of Birmingham museum and art gallery.  A summer night in a fountain, a wonderful temporary innoculation againt the pain of a lost heart. A fountain and The Blue Nile’s album  ’A walk across the rooftops’ took me to the places I needed to be. When they later released ‘Hats’, naturally I was thrilled by their unknowingly knowing  insight.

Game-addict clinic opening in Amsterdam
Dueling piano bar opening in downtown Boise
Archived Items not opening in Microsoft Outlook 2003
croci opening in my garden

Before I had any influence over the parental record collection, and I’m not sure that I do now,  mumzie would play music by  artistes that included at least one keyboard.   Mumzie has an impressive vinyl collection covering Rachmaninoff   through early Niel Sedaka to Barbara Dickson.   Her collection judiciously excludes Barry Manilow and the flamboyant charms of Liberace.  

In 1975 Mumsie was thrilled by a Niel Sedaka cover featuring multiple keyboards,   and a man called ‘captain’ wearing a hat.     Though still pre-teen, I was beginning to develop serious scepticism about my parent’s music tastes…

The Captain and Tenille sang ‘love will keep us together’ in  1975.  

“Non-portable instruments such as pianos are not authorized for shipping.“

written in  my relocation documentation.   I’m not 100% convinced.

Ever since stumbling across a grand Piano being played in the stairwell of a shopping centre I’ve been curious about the places that pianos might be found.   I’ve set up a flick-r photo-group to find Pianos in public  to explore the possibilities.   Here are few examples:

Toronto Metro station:

Impressive wheels:

Cremation:

engine replacement:

Sidmouth Sea Seranade:

French riviera:

during rehearsal the director of an amatuer dramatics group directs the on-stage actors:  

“don’t hug the furniture“

The actor standing behind the chair quickly takes two Irish jig style steps backward.   I smirk, stop caressing the shiny Grand piano, sidestep slowly away in the  hope no-one else noticed my naughty furniture ‘ffection.   Meanwhile, mid embrace,  the lead actor  asks the director if the lead actress counts as furniture.   The director, unlike the lead actress,   does not look amused.   Apparantly, stage furniture has a gravitational-like force for amature dramatists.   Strangely true in my limited experience of a few chairs, tables, and  the occassional  Grand piano.

Needless to type,   this  traumatic experience has severeley curbed my furniture hugging tendencies.   You won’t find me in the corner of bars with my arms wrapped around a lone chair or arms stretched along  a  well polished table top.  

All in all,   it’s probably for the best.