Flotsam and Jetsam – Page 18 – The Imperceptible Immigrant

The Lost Chord

June 25, 2020 by admin

On the first day of October last year – nearly nine months ago now – I posted to this journal a celebratory piece concerning the long-overdue uploading to the InterWebNet of some of the music of Anam Danu – the collaboration between the Chanteuse and I that had started roughly a year earlier.

We had chosen the excellent musicians’ site – Bandcamp – for this initial foray and made available a collection of seven tracks on which we had been working since the 2019 new year and which we had had professionally mastered by the estimable CPS Mastering of Vancouver. If you have not thus far been fortunate enough to have heard the Chanteuse in action I commend to you this offering – the which is entitled “Winds of Change” and which may be located here:

https://anamdanu.bandcamp.com

The October 1st post noted that to the seven tracks already uploaded were to have been added a further three songs – to complete the collection. Visitors to the site will, however, not have missed the fact that – nine months down the line – there are still only seven pieces there.

Unfortunately, scarcely had we uploaded the material – and certainly before we were able to make a serious attempt at publicising the fact – the first of a sequence of harrowing events overtook the Chanteuse. I am certainly not going into any of the details of the months that followed but I will just say that had some budding TV script-writer come up with such a far-fetched narrative they would have been drummed out of Hollywood. All I can do is to offer heartfelt sympathies for all that occurred.

As dictated by Sod’s Law we had no sooner held our first recording session subsequent to these events than the pandemic struck – along with the accompanying lock-down. That pretty much put a stop to any thoughts of further work and the powers that be have made it quite clear that singing is going to be one of the last things that we will all be allowed to do again in ‘public’.

What the rest of the musical world is doing at this point is finding ways to work and to record remotely – thus avoiding the problems of isolation. Because of the sequence and timing of the events that lead to this point we were not able to make any provision for such a course as the lock-down was imposed. I am now struggling to put in place a suitable mechanism for working in this manner – but much new learning is required and these things take time. I will – of course – offer updates on this journal as to how we get on.

The thing is – though we have been unable to record, I have also been unable to stop writing songs. Since we last worked together I have written and recorded the tracks for a further nine compositions!

It would be good to be able to finish some of them…

The Journey Home – 5

June 21, 2020 by admin

Well, here we are at the end of this short retrospective – one year on – of our 2019 trip to the UK and Greece. The Girl and I had a wonderful and memorable visit to Europe – a fine balance between spending time with loved ones and old friends, revisiting a bit of the old country and getting to wallow in glorious antiquity in a part of the world that neither of us had known well.

As is the way of such things, on our return to BC we immediately started thinking about and planning further excursions, little knowing that – along with everyone else – our future travel plans would all have to be put on ice for an indeterminate and possibly indefinite period.

The Girl and I loved Athens and you can read the notes of a year ago and view the photos that I posted here and here.

Finally – a few more images from those taken in Athens:

The Journey Home – 4

June 15, 2020 by admin

This time last year we had just returned from the splendid trip to the UK and to Greece that I am re-living vicariously through the medium of this journal.

The timing of this particular post is really quite apposite because – having rounded off our splendid reunion with the UK and headed south to join our cruise ship for the first phase of our Greek visit – it was no longer possible for me to publish posts to the blog, on account of the paucity and cost of the Internet connections on board ship. As a result I unleashed a stream of such postings after we returned to Canada – starting with this one.

I had visited Greece once before, though that time to a different set of islands – the Dodecanese. This time we would be mostly in the Cyclades. For The Girl this would be a first visit to any part of Greece and neither of us had been to Athens – where we would spend a few days at the end of our cruise. Much, then, to look forward to.

Now – with regard to the cruise itself the postings that I made on our return were really quite comprehensive and laden with (if i say so myself) quite lovely photographs. If the Greek islands are of interest to you do take a look around. As for this post – well – I will do my best to dig out any interesting images that did not make the cut first time around. I know that I took plenty – so I am hopeful…

These images are from our visits to Santorini, to Heraklion and Knossos and to Ephesus:

The Journey Home – 3

June 8, 2020 by admin

Having bid a fond farewell to my brother at the end of my second week (and The Girl’s first week) in the UK at around this time last year – and having at the same time reluctantly extracted ourselves from the slightly strange but delightful decadence of a mostly empty Oatland’s Park Hotel (for such it was, though I did not name it at the time), we set out on a short road trip to impose ourselves on the hospitality of lovely friends in Essex (Colchester), Kent (Sevenoaks) and Berkshire (Maidenhead).

A lesson that we learned from our trip as a whole – but from this segment in particular – was that though it was absolutely lovely to see again such a great number of those from whom we had been separated for at least the length of time that we had been resident in Canada… paying fleeting visits to them was never going to be enough.

However generously and warmly we were received, entertained and generally spoiled rotten it was impossible not to feel that we had cheated these good folk out of the joys of our extended company. I say this not from any excess of ego on my (our!) part, but merely echoing the sentiments that they themselves repeatedly expressed (as well, of course, as our own feelings) at the point at which we had, reluctantly, to tear ourselves away and to move on to our next port of call.

I hope that my postings – then and now – have expressed adequately just how grateful we are for the amazing hospitality that we were shown by all concerned. Thank you.

I looked back over the photos that I took on this part of the trip. I make a point – as any regular readers of these jottings will no doubt have noticed – of not uploading to the blog any pictures that identifiably include the people of whom I write (including myself, for which the gentle reader will be most grateful!). I do so as a point of principle; the matter concerning privacy. I extend my caution also to names and to other such detail. Not all bloggers adhere to such strictures. I do!

Sometimes however – as in this instance – I am as a result left a little short of interesting material with which to embellish my postings. In the case of our mini-tour I took photos of some of the lovely people with whom we stayed that must remain – and will remain – private.

Fortunately I, at least, get to look back at them…

The Journey Home – 2

May 31, 2020 by admin

If the first week of our epic jaunt to the UK and to Europe this time last year was all about me revisiting people and places that I had not seen for a goodly period – more than three decades in some cases – then the second week was about two things: visits with family and an opportunity for The Girl to catch up with those with whom she worked and played during her time in the UK.

Once we had enacted a joyful reunion at Heathrow airport (full details withheld to protect those of delicate sensibilities) The Girl and I boarded our hire car and navigated our way around the M25 to the town in which I grew up and where my brother still lives. It had been our intention to stay with him for the following week but as a result of the unforeseen circumstances detailed in this gripping blog episode we found ourselves rattling around a mostly empty grand hotel just down the road.

Now – as it turned out this worked out particularly well for a number of reasons and we owed a great deal to my brother both in terms of smart thinking and also of massive generosity on his part (for he footed the bill!). Kudos!

Not only was the hotel a very good base for our excursions into Berkshire, Buckinghamshire and other nearby haunts where The Girl (and I in appropriate cases) was reunited with some of those with whom she had worked and some with whom she had become good friends (to the great joy of all concerned) but staying in a place with a bar and lounge that was open to service all day meant that those who had not been able to attend other gatherings could call by and one or other (or both) of us could spend a happy hour or so catching up with all of the news and gossip from the previous half decade or more. I was delighted to make connections anew with others from my musical and theatrical past and – as was the case with all of those whom we met throughout our stay – I was overwhelmed by the expressions of joy and love with which we were bathed.

With regard to family it was good to see my sister and brother again – though in both cases we have in the interim been fortunate enough to have had visits from them in Canada. My brother and his Lady in particular went out of their way to entertain us and to ensure that our visit was a success. There was dining and quaffing – a boat trip to Hampton Court – a visit to the Victoria & Albert Museum (with lunch in the Members’ Room!) and much more. In short – they treated us royally and we were most grateful.

We were quite sorry to leave our grand hotel but the third part of our expedition was to take us on a road trip around some parts of southern England to stay with other old and dear friends. More on that next time!

Before I go – the image below is of my alma mater’s boathouse, the which is on the bank of the river Thames opposite Hampton Court Palace. It is named the R. C. Sherriff Boathouse after one of the School’s famous alumni. The playwright had been a great sportsman, had rowed for the School and subsequently raised funds for rowing both at the School and for the nearby Kingston Rowing Club. On his death in 1975 his house – Rosebriars – was sold and the monies from the sale put into a trust to help support the arts in the district. The youth theatre with which I was associated benefited from these funds during the 90’s, which enabled us to commission a writer to create a new play for the group.

The Journey Home – 1

May 22, 2020 by admin

“Oh, to be in England now that April ’s there
And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!”

Robert Browning – “Home thoughts from abroad”

OK – well it wasn’t actually April. It was the middle of May, though, and the effect was similar.

Last year the Kickass Canada Girl and I returned to the UK for the first time since we moved to Canada back in 2015. We felt that it was time to revisit the land that had been her home for more than a decade – and mine since birth!

For operational reasons we traveled a week apart. She had work to do so I left a week ahead of her with the intention of catching up with family and old friends – and of visiting some old haunts. I had been nervous before we set off. What would it be like – going back? Would anyone really want to see us or would they just be polite? Would things have changed too much? Would it make me terribly homesick?

The big takeaway from the first phase of our travels was just how lovely it was to see everyone again – and how much they all appeared to want to see us. This was a deeply moving and life-affirming experience that is even now really quite difficult to put into words. We were very touched and most grateful for the hospitality, the care and the love that we were shown everywhere.

These were for me the highlights of that first week:

Staying with old friends who just could not do enough to make me feel welcome – for which many thanks!
Re-visiting the School at which I had last worked. It was good to see my chaps again and to be shown round the building developments that had been completed since I left. I was most touched, however, by the number of staff members who – seeing me around the place – just wanted to say ‘Hello‘, to see how we were doing and to have a chat. What might have been a couple of hours visit rapidly became twice that length.
Visits to two particular old friends whom I had not seen for quite a while even before we left for Canada. Good to re-connect.
A trip to the Worcestershire/Herefordshire borders to stay with Oldest Friend and his wife. I had not seen their new home there and it was good to take a few days to catch up – and to revisit such a lovely part of the country.
Perhaps the most affecting of all – the reunion of band members and youth theatre friends from back in the 70s. This was a complete joy, not only because it had been arranged as a surprise (I did not know who would be there) but also because those present were clearly so delighted to see each other again – let alone to see me. Connections were re-established between those who had not met each other for multiple decades (some of which have been maintained since our visit). The very great pleasure that this gathering garnered was reflected later in our visit as I had the chance to re-meet further music and youth theatre friends from years gone by. More about that next time.

Finally, I should say that – though we are most fortunate in that we live in a beautiful part of the world and, of course, many other countries have their own particular attractions – there is something particularly Arcadian about the English countryside. It was wonderful to be able to indulge in its joys once more. Herewith a few panoramas that attempt to capture that flavour. Double-click for a closer look…

A sign of the times

May 14, 2020 by admin

Back near the beginning of the COVID-19 crisis I wrote a post (pleasantly entitled ‘Make Yourself Happy‘ – fortunately without an exclamation mark) in which I reported on one of the UK national newspaper’s re-posting to their digital site of the ‘live’ minute by minute’ commentary of a favourite footie fixture from some point in the (middle)-distant past (1971 as I recall) – a notion that has, I observe, since been picked up and run with by all and sundry. My observations may have been ‘voiced’ in a tone that the casual reader – someone who doesn’t know me better – might have mistaken for cynicism (Who, me? Never!).

The problem that the broadsheet had accurately and most presciently identified is, of course, that during an extended lock-down – in which none of the usual newsworthy happenings – er… happens – there is nothing much left about which to write – apart from the wretched pandemic itself.

By now even the less fleet-footed amongst the gentle readers of these ramblings will already have figured out where this is going…

Yes – apart from gardening and… um!… well, that’s about it – there is not too much else to write about when one’s existence has been shrunk from our usual mad gay whirl to a really rather limited routine. I am not – of course – complaining. One is – after all – a long time de*d!

So – in the spirit of The Guardian’s enterprising sports editor I intend to replay coverage – in ‘real time‘ – of our legendary trip to the UK and Europe of this time last year (observe the date on the luggage tag in the accompanying photo). I will be revisiting – virtually – some of the places to which we went and some of the friends and family with whom we spent time a year ago. I will also, of course, be revisiting – somewhat wistfully – the Greek islands. Look out for the posting of some of the photos that didn’t make the cut first time round.

Of course, the whole point about keeping a regular blog is that one has an enduring record of what one did in previous years – and of when one did it. As this is all (somewhat rashly) available publicly (as it were) there is nothing to stop the gentle reader from glancing back through the archives to view the postings from a year ago. What I will be doing, however, is looking back through my rose-tinted spectacles with the 20/20 benefit of hindsight.

One of the first observations to make is how jolly lucky we were to have finally settled on traveling last year. Who knows when we might be able to do so again…

Bizarre gardening accident

April 22, 2020 by admin

Those of us of a certain age – and in particular those of us who played in bands ‘back in the day’ – will be familiar with Rob Reiner’s ‘mockumentary’ (the very first of its kind) – “This is Spinal Tap“. It was obligatory in the mid 80s for us to have seen the film (often many times) – to know it sufficiently well that we could quote chunks of it by heart – and to claim that it must somehow have been based on our own band’s experiences (usually completely missing the point that it was a satire… Yup – we took ourselves pretty seriously!).

Now – I must confess that, though I have certainly seen the whole film, I have a feeling that I have not ever done so in one sitting. I also have a feeling that I may not be alone in this. No matter!

Why am I bringing this up now?

Well – though the main characters in the spoof band were played by talented actor/musicians Michael McKean, Christopher Guest and Harry Shearer (who went on to voice a number of key characters in ‘The Simpsons’) – one of the jokes was that Spinal Tap had worked its way through an infeasible number of drummers – most of whom had died in unusual circumstances (two from spontaneous human combustion onstage and one from choking on “someone else’s vomit”). Yet another had died in a “bizarre gardening accident” which was supposedly described by the police afterwards as a mystery “best left unsolved.”

Yes – you’ve guessed it! I was on the InterWebNet looking up unusual gardening accidents. There are – of course – many ways to injure oneself whilst tending to one’s estate (pretentious? moi?) and most of them do not bear thinking about. Some – however – just hurt a lot and make one feel particularly stupid. Such was the minor incident in which I was involved the other day.

I was mowing the lawn – which I am obliged to do with sufficient frequency that I should by now have achieved ‘black-belt’ status in the noble art of grass cutting. I should certainly know well enough what I am about that the following should not have taken place.

I stopped the mower to empty the clipping bag. Having done so I set things up again and gave a vigorous tug on the starter cord. Unfortunately I had not noticed that I was positioned rather too close to the corner of our garden tool-shed (Canadian: shop) and as I jerked my arm back the point of my elbow impacted with the corner of the building.

“Ouch!” (That is – of course – not the word that I used at the time…)

What a numpty!

One world together

April 20, 2020 by admin

Watching the ‘One World Together at Home’ extravaganza on TV the other night somewhat inevitably brought back memories of that particular sunny Saturday back in July 1985 – and of how we all dropped in and out of the TV coverage of Live Aid… on the day that we were going to feed the world.

That unlikely day was not the last time that the music industry tried to save the world. Nor was it the last on which it was both praised and lambasted for so doing. There is for me something genuinely affecting and stirring in our pampered pop princes and princesses getting together to do something selfless for others (the gentle reader will observe that I have exercised my prerogative not to be cynical but instead to believe in only in the highest motives on all parts). In any case – those who are susceptible to being moved will be moved and those who enjoy a good whinge once again get the opportunity to indulge themselves… so everybody’s happy (or not!)…

On this occasion our musical exemplars were not themselves saving the world (this was no fundraiser like Live Aid) but they were, on our behalf, lauding and thanking those who actually are so doing… the essential workers – the wonderful and brave doctors, nurses and other healthcare workers, the shop workers, delivery drivers and cleaners. Strange how so many of these essential workers – who take their lives into their hands to protect and to help others – often receive the most humble of remunerations for so doing, whilst those who are paid as though they actually are essential can choose which of their homes to ‘work’ from. Plus ça change…

Aside from the goodness of the cause in either case another reason why Saturday’s broadcast brought to mind those events from thirty five years ago was that we were once again wowed (those of us old enough not to be totally blasé in the face of such ‘magic’) by the technological miracle by which means the events were effected. Back in the mid 80s the notion of having a major live concert running simultaneously in two countries (with feeds from many others) and of (relatively) seamlessly switching from one continent to another – not just on TV but in the stadia themselves – seemed incredible. That the much abused Phil Collins could perform on both stages courtesy of the singular contrivance that was Concorde simply added to the legerdemain.

Now – that concert took several armies of technicians on two continents to pull off and to cover on live TV. Had it not been for Bob Geldof’s legendary bloody-mindedness it would probably not have happened as it did. This week’s event – given the very different circumstances under which it took place – may well have involved a (somewhat smaller) army, but also one which was dispersed, fragmented and sequestered. The technology that was used to pull together eight hours of material from living rooms, gardens and home studios was as impressive in its own very different way as was that used back in 1985 – however much we now take these things for granted. Kudos to the increasingly impressive Lady Gaga for fulfilling the Geldof role on this occasion and for making this all happen.

As on the earlier occasion emotions were played upon, tears were shed and resolutions made. Let us do our damnedest to stick to them.

Will there also be singing?

April 7, 2020 by admin

“In the dark times
Will there also be singing?
Yes, there will also be singing.
About the dark times.”

Bertolt Brecht, motto to Svendborg Poems, 1939

This poignant motto appears at the head of the last collection of poems published by Bertolt Brecht during his lifetime. He was by then living in exile from Nazi Germany in the town of Svendborg on the Danish island of Funen.

The ‘dark times’ to which he refers are, of course, considerably darker even than those which afflict us now, but a search on the InterWebNet for uses to which this brief motto has been put reveals a plethora of such instances in recent times – starting with the invasion of Iraq in 2003 and gathering pace since 2016. The latest of which I am aware was by Chris Riddell for his cartoon on the Corona virus lock-down in the UK for last Sunday’s Observer newspaper.

When I first became aware of Normal Lewis’ wartime memoir – through Francesco Patierno’s film, shown on the BBC toward the end of last year – the current COVID-19 crisis did not even feature on the roadmap of impending concerns. Now, of course, contemplation of conflicts still sharp in the living memory has become something of a pastime – or more accurately a ‘pass-time’, since many of us are unable to follow our preferred pursuits and must needs instead find alternative ways to occupy the time that hangs heavy on our hands. It has become quite the thing to compare our current trials and tribulations with those of the generation that lived through the last world war.

There are good reasons for so doing – though even better ones for exercising finer judgement. We do indeed live in unprecedented times. As things stand we have no idea how this is all going to pan out, or into what reality we might emerge on the other side. When we look back we can discern no other period since the last war in which so many people’s lives were simultaneously thrown into chaos by such a crisis – be that through the direct touch of the pandemic itself, or through loss of employment, income or – even worse – of friends and loved-ones.

Writing about my father’s war-time experience in Italy – contemporaneous with that of Norman Lewis – I suggested that he had subsequently spoken very little about his experiences there. My mother would describe how she went outside to watch the vapour trails over south London during the Battle of Britain, but otherwise she likewise gave little away about how the war had affected her and those close to her.

We know – we think we know – from our readings of history, from novels and poetry and from the many film and TV productions concerning the war and its aftermath – just how broken and fragmented was the world in the latter half of the 1940s. Populations had been destroyed or displaced, the greater part of a generation had lost their lives, families and societies had been torn asunder, economies wrecked and great expanses of the old world reduced to piles of rubble. How could the world – the lives – ever be rebuilt?

Yet many of those who lived through that period chose not to – or simply could not – speak thereof… and the world – as it does – moved on.

In this age of instant and incessant ‘communication’ there is perhaps a case for saying rather less and listening – and thinking – rather more…

…and – yes! – I am aware of the contradiction in so writing.

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