I am not fat, but neither was BIlly Fury. Bout six weeks after one of the best live performances I've ever seen in my life, rockin' and a rollin' to the last, the skinny guy with the big voice died of a heart attack, so I am taking heed of the warning and being careful.
There was a robin fluttering around in the shop, not really in a panic, more curious about the displays of fruit in little cellophane boxes. Every so often, it buzzed to the window and looked out at the rain. I had the feeling it had flown in on purpose and was hoping to build a nest amongst all that food. What a dream date for a little bird!
I'm getting ready to travel up to Dunblane to do two music workshops in Ashfield village hall tomorrow afternoon, and a gig there in the evening. I am collecting aspirins and throat soothing pastilles from their various roosting-points about the houseas the storm clouds of a mega-cold are gathering on the horizon.
There's a pile of Opal Fruits on the table. I would feel sad about not being able to eat them, but they are the orange and green ones, and I only like the red ones.
Did you know, they all taste almost identical if you eat them in the dark? I discovered this while sitting next to Jonathan, The Chefs London manager, on the way home from gigs in the north as we headed back down the motorway. I used to sit next to him and feed him sweets to keep him awake, as I was so terrified of him falling asleep on the steering wheel like Watto, the manager of Midnight and the Lemon Boys, did on the way home from a gig in Winchester once in the fog. I know I've posted about it before, but we were all so plastered we were sitting in the back laughing at him as he lay with his head on his arms at the wheel. Then someone said, 'He shouldn't be asleep, he's driving', and we woke him up.
Rock'n'roll, wot a larf!