Nostalgia, what would we do without it. I’ve been digging around on iTunes again and couldn’t resist downloading a couple of my old favourites, Groundhogs Cherry Red, the live 1972 version, and Jefferson Airplane Wooden Ships. Completely different styles but both songs seem to have stuck with me over the years. Cherry Red is very similar to my all time favourite, Edgar Broughton Band Momma’s Reward, full speed ahead and take no prisoners, whereas Wooden Ships is more peace and love. I’ve still got a few pence credit on iTunes so no doubt I’ll be back there looking for other old tracks to assist with my reminisces of the good old days.
Looking back on my miserable life I find hundreds of regrets and what-ifs and it’s all down to my deep-seated fear of having fun. Let’s talk about music. I love music but when thumbing through the remains of my once excellent record collection I’m reminded that I had seen very few of my favourite acts live even though I had the opportunities. It wasn’t until I discovered classical music in my 40’s that I really got into the live habit and then I was spending 2 or 3 nights a week at Symphony Hall. That lasted for a few years until I got tired of rail travel disruptions and having to walk home from Rugby station at silly o’clock because there were no taxis. Nowadays I have to force myself to listen to any sort of music even though it’s conveniently in my pocket on my iPhone. In future to soothe my soul when typing up these updates I will dip into my collection of tunes and tell you what tickles my fancy and if you are that way inclined you can search them out too.
Humble Pie. Rockin’ The Fillmore. 1971. I Walk On Gilded Splinters. Music on the edge fuelled by alcohol and hard drugs.
Caravan. In The Land Of Grey And Pink. 1971. Nine Feet Underground. I think they now call it Canterbury rock.
Joni Mitchell. Mingus. 1979. The Wolf That Lives In Lindsey. One of the best songwriters of the 20th century.
The company have again asked for redundancy volunteers so I’ve submitted my application for one last throw of the dice, well I would be a fool not to. Although I haven’t completely made up my mind to retire at 65 the way things are shaping up at work this looks an excellent time to go.
Things are not looking good. An inexperienced model doing adult and she’s brought her boyfriend along. This is a recipe for disaster. I start to make the best of a bad job but it doesn’t take long for my mood to brighten, she loves the camera and the camera loves her. Her boyfriend, sat less than 6′ away, is forgotten. She doesn’t seek his approval when I ask her to open her legs, she is eager to please. Let’s move onto the toys. She doesn’t have one but they have stopped off at the supermarket for a cucumber. Fuck me, they must have bought the biggest one there. She’s not much more than 5′ nothing, where the hell is she going to put it. A few minutes later I find out exactly where she is going to put it. What a star. I had this little bet with myself that at the first available lay-by on the journey home her boyfriend pulled over and fucked her brains out. I wonder if I won.
I really am struggling to find the enthusiasm to organise shoots. I’ve lost my mojo in the train wreck of personal lifestyle decisions I’m being forced to make at the moment. Looking at the results of the few sessions I have completed this year I’m ashamed to admit that the best snaps are of the models fully clothed. Shock-horror! All of these problems have turned me into a sissy. God forbid I’ll be admiring art nude photos next.