This extract from The Venomous Bead’s blog caught my eye:
So it was that I found myself shadowed by a tiny man of over seventy years of age – the Costa Rican version of Cohen the Barbarian(which one?) – as I entered the Art Deco edifice of the Banco Nacional. Drawing my money I was about to sort out my bag at the table provided, watched over by security guards.
No, no, no!
I must put my card and money away at the cash point…who knew who might be watching!
But there are guards…
Guards! Where will they be if you are mugged on the doorstep…?
Prisoner and escort – we must have looked like the Queen of Tonga and her lunch – headed back to the central market.
Q and A are a couple of friends of long standing. Their sense of reality becomes a little warped after The Second Pint (there should be a link to a song here, but I haven’t written it yet), and they have to keep warning each other,’Don’t Go Beyond The Handrail‘. (Yeah, it’s another link. I’ve written the song but it’s not been published.[smiley face indicating wry acceptance of the vagaries of fate, with just a tinge of irony and a dash of sarcasm bitters for a full-bodied flavour and no sunglasses- couldn’t find that one on my iPad] A truly hilarious incident,but you had to have been there to appreciate it. Helps if you had had more than 2 pints.)
NB. TEFL teachers -do not try sentences like this in class!
Q said,” What’s he about?”
A said,” Who? ”
Q said, ” Him.”
A said, “Him?'”
Q said, ‘Yes!’
A said ‘So?’
Q said ,”Must be your round!”
A said ‘Who?’
Q said ‘You!’
A said ‘Me?’
Q said ‘Yes!’
A said ‘No!’
Can’t quite remember why this arrangement doesn’t have an accordion in it.It started out as a kind of musical doodle, as many of my songs do. It was meant to be a homage to Django Reinhardt and the Hot Club of Paris, which sort of defined our perception of French cafe music.
Halfway through, it started to remind me of the Maigret Theme, and other songs, and it very nearly ended up being called ‘Everything You’ve Ever Heard’, but that title is already spoken for by a friend who writes some bitingly clever satirical songs. (Take a bow, Trevor).
The photograph is young Rosie, taken at the Dee Valley near Llangollen. For once, she looks as if she can’t remember what she was doing!
Doesn’t it always take you by surprise when a sudden shift of perspective shows you something that’s been right under your nose? No. this isn’t about the Pina Colada Song, but it does concern music.
I wrote this tune several years ago and we used to play it in the band between dance sets as an atmospheric piece. It’s a slow air, heavily influenced by the Irish music which was all around during my college years in Northern Ireland.
A group of us shared digs in the small fishing village of Portrush on the Antrim coast, just a few miles from the Giant’s Causeway. Though the landscape where we lived was not quite that spectacular, there was a cliff on the headland where the wind coming off the Atlantic was amazingly fierce, even on a calm day.
In need of a title for this tune, I named it after the headland – Ramore Head – which was pronounced locally with the accent on the second syllable; Ra-MORE Head.
Not long ago a friend of mine was listening to some arrangements and said he liked ‘the slow one”, which he called RAM-ore Head. All of a sudden it was obvious that the last line of the tune fit the title when the name was pronounced that way.