We start today with two pieces of really sad news with the deaths of David Rathband and Davy Jones.
Isn't it funny how some days kick you in the teeth almost as soon as they start? The case of David Rathband is such a sad one. Having a son who is a police officer and having spent 15 years working for the police I am all too aware of the dangers our officers face every day of the week. PC David Rathband was blinded when he was shot in the face by gunman Raoul Moat. It is impossible to grasp what David must have gone through from that time - coming to terms not only with his injuries and blindness but also the breakdown of his marriage. Apparently in the last few days his behaviour had become extremely erratic. This is a sad day for all law abiding people.
Davy Jones was just 66 and died of a heart attack in America. As lead singer of the Monkees he was a typical late 1960s funster. I remember him not only for the Monkees TV series but also for his short lived role as Ena Sharples' nephew in Coronation Street and also for his appearance in Godspell in Norwich many years ago.
The Monkees were just a fun group. Often attacked for not playing their instruments and being largely Media made, they nevertheless had talented people in Mike Nesmith, Peter Tork and Mickey Dolenz and Davy Jones. Their madcap antics led to them metamorphosing into real musicians and I still listen to their early albums. They were the band to have a hit with "Daydream Believer" a song written by one of my favourite American songwriters John Stewart.So a said day.
Last night I paid my second visit to the Grapevine at Bedfords in Norwich. I mentioned this venue in a previous blog where I saw the superb Ana Silvera. Last night's line-up was never going to match Ana's performance but what value we had again for the £5 admission money.
The evening started with Cole Stacey who played an interesting and enjoyable set backed up by Joseph O'Keefe, a multi-instrumentalist who I soon came to hate (only joking). Joseph not only played jazz piano, but also violin and guitar. I bet he can play any number of other instruments as well. Anyway Cole is well worth checking out. He was followed by Cara Winter who has a lovely voice and then the headliner from Wales Jack Harris who has an interesting voice. If I had a criticism it is that Cara and Jack's self penned material was at times quite weak. But it was still a damn good evening.
It did mean I missed all the international football which, seeing the results, was probably a good thing. England lost 3-2 to Holland. I think by and large that friendly internationals are a waste of time with players pulling out before games. They prove nothing.
Another of my pet hates yesterday - a cold caller. I hate being annoyed on the telephone or via personal visits by people trying to sell things I have no interest in. It's an intrusion on my privacy that I have not asked for or invited. This one wasn't so bad, however, as it was from Talk Talk, a company I get my Broadband and telephone from. The main problem is the young people knocking on doors are working to a set script from which they can't deviate. So when I asked about getting rid of my paper billing and a few other queries instead of giving me the right answer which would have been "let me take your name and contact details and I will get somebody to sort it out." What I got was something along the lines of "I suggest you contact the company and ask them to sort it out." In other words "I haven't been trained to answer such questions so please leave me alone so I can knock on somebody else's door."
I have just started reading what could be a very interesting book entitled "All the Madmen" by Clinton Heylin - the story of how six rock stars travelled to the edge of sanity in the years following the summer of love. The six in question are Pete Townsend of The Who, Ray Davies of the Kinks, Peter Green of the original Fleetwood Mac and not the pale imitation poppy group that later came into existence, Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd, Nick Drake and David Bowie. All were or are geniuses in their own way. Should I be worried that these are some of my all time music heroes and people I still listen to regularly? Am I therefore just a tad mad myself?
The book opens in interesting fashion with a discussion on the merits of anti psychiatrist R. D. Laing who undertook a lot or work into psychosis. Here is part of an entry in Wikipedia about Laing. "He took the expressed feelings of the individual patient or client as valid descriptions of lived experience rather than simply as symptoms of some separate or underlying disorder." Laing himself suffered from alcoholism and clinical depression which may or may not have made him the right person to talk about psychosis (depends on how much stock you put on personal experience here). Laing also had six sons and four daughters by four different women which later led to one of his sons saying "It was ironic that my father became well known as a family psychiatrist, when, in the meantime, he had nothing to do with his own family.." But I digress.
A number of years ago I studied for a Masters Degree at the University of East Anglia and can remember upsetting one of my fellow students early on with my views about the pointless lives of many people. I think she felt I was being a snob when I said that many people have empty lives of no meaning. They get up in the morning, go to work, come home, have tea, watch televisions and then repeat this endlessly. I was not suggesting that this was a bad thing but simply a fact and based on a number of my own relatives and my own experiences whilst growing up. To me this kind of existence is a waste of a life.
Anyway when I explained myself I got on very well with this other person who accepted that I wasn't looking down my nose at other people. I haven't seen this kind of view put quite as starkly as Laing does in his book "Sanity, Madness and the Family" where he formulates a view that "normal families" (whatever that term may mean as nobody has ever been able to explain to me exactly what normal means) are at least as disturbed as dysfunctional families. He has this to say:
So that started me thinking about the juxtaposition of being: If Madness is in fact sanity, could conversely sanity in fact be madness? Are people we consider to be normal actually mad and are people we consider to be mad actually normal? Because at the end of the day what does the term normal mean anyway?
Taken to the furthest point this idea of juxtaposition could equate with feelings about religion and God. Perhaps the concept of God as a being or energy force is not a model for good but a model for evil.
I don't necessarily subscribe to those thoughts but it does make some kind of perverted sense.
Anyway from the sublime to the ridiculous. Yesterday I was catching up with some television programmes recorded over the year (I still want to say taped despite no tape being involved) and came across a kind of Where are They Now programme based on a final of the New Faces talent show which came somewhere between the original Opportunity Knocks and today's X Factor crap.
Marti Caine (remember her) hosted the New Faces final with three judges sitting in a balcony looking and behaving a bit like Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets. There was comedian Jim Davidson, impresario and Everton FC chairman Bill Kenwright and somebody else whose name escapes me. Anyway this programme looked at the finalists from 1986 and saw how their careers?? had progressed or not as the case may be. I'm a sucker for these kind of "what did they do next" programmes. Suffice it to say that none of them really made the big time although comedian Billy Pearce is still working as a comic and Gary Lovini the 17 year old violinist who is now middle aged - well I'm sure I saw him on stage during one of our cruises and a check on Google shows that he does still appear on the Oceans of the world. New Faces did bring us some household names such as Joe Pasqale, Lenny Henry, Michael Barrymore, the Chuckle Brothers, Victoria Wood and Jim Davidson.
Incidentally one of the tough nut judges (the Gary Barlow or Simon Cowell of his day) was Clifford Davis who I believe was a journalist with the Daily Mirror. Many years ago I was on a judging panel for a band talent show on the Norfolk coast and Davis was on the panel. I seem to remember he was nowhere near as nasty in real life as he appeared to be on TV!!!!
Finally today a whinge about serious consumer television programmes trying to be funny. I just hate it. They come on at peak viewing time to expose dodgy deals or evil builders and to stick up for the small man in the street. That's great but, being on at prime time, they try to inject some comedy into things, thus lightening the load, making the show more entertaining and proving just what funsters (second time I have used that word today) the presenters can really be. It just doesn't work. If the subject is a serious one treat it in a serious way without the wisecracks. If the con or whatever is serious enough simply unmasking a villain is entertainment enough. The main culprit in this kind of "aren't I a larky chap who really is on the side of the underdog" is probably Matt Allright. Matt is a good enough investigative journalist without lowering what he is achieving with comedy routines that just aren't funny (some of which seem to revolve around a large Dutchman on a motorbike).
I Googled Matt Alright as well and found he is a patron for the SANDS (Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Society), a charity near to our hearts after our first grandchild was stillborn last year. So good on you Matt but stick to the serious stuff Allright?
Isn't it funny how some days kick you in the teeth almost as soon as they start? The case of David Rathband is such a sad one. Having a son who is a police officer and having spent 15 years working for the police I am all too aware of the dangers our officers face every day of the week. PC David Rathband was blinded when he was shot in the face by gunman Raoul Moat. It is impossible to grasp what David must have gone through from that time - coming to terms not only with his injuries and blindness but also the breakdown of his marriage. Apparently in the last few days his behaviour had become extremely erratic. This is a sad day for all law abiding people.
Davy Jones was just 66 and died of a heart attack in America. As lead singer of the Monkees he was a typical late 1960s funster. I remember him not only for the Monkees TV series but also for his short lived role as Ena Sharples' nephew in Coronation Street and also for his appearance in Godspell in Norwich many years ago.
The Monkees were just a fun group. Often attacked for not playing their instruments and being largely Media made, they nevertheless had talented people in Mike Nesmith, Peter Tork and Mickey Dolenz and Davy Jones. Their madcap antics led to them metamorphosing into real musicians and I still listen to their early albums. They were the band to have a hit with "Daydream Believer" a song written by one of my favourite American songwriters John Stewart.So a said day.
Last night I paid my second visit to the Grapevine at Bedfords in Norwich. I mentioned this venue in a previous blog where I saw the superb Ana Silvera. Last night's line-up was never going to match Ana's performance but what value we had again for the £5 admission money.
The evening started with Cole Stacey who played an interesting and enjoyable set backed up by Joseph O'Keefe, a multi-instrumentalist who I soon came to hate (only joking). Joseph not only played jazz piano, but also violin and guitar. I bet he can play any number of other instruments as well. Anyway Cole is well worth checking out. He was followed by Cara Winter who has a lovely voice and then the headliner from Wales Jack Harris who has an interesting voice. If I had a criticism it is that Cara and Jack's self penned material was at times quite weak. But it was still a damn good evening.
It did mean I missed all the international football which, seeing the results, was probably a good thing. England lost 3-2 to Holland. I think by and large that friendly internationals are a waste of time with players pulling out before games. They prove nothing.
Another of my pet hates yesterday - a cold caller. I hate being annoyed on the telephone or via personal visits by people trying to sell things I have no interest in. It's an intrusion on my privacy that I have not asked for or invited. This one wasn't so bad, however, as it was from Talk Talk, a company I get my Broadband and telephone from. The main problem is the young people knocking on doors are working to a set script from which they can't deviate. So when I asked about getting rid of my paper billing and a few other queries instead of giving me the right answer which would have been "let me take your name and contact details and I will get somebody to sort it out." What I got was something along the lines of "I suggest you contact the company and ask them to sort it out." In other words "I haven't been trained to answer such questions so please leave me alone so I can knock on somebody else's door."
I have just started reading what could be a very interesting book entitled "All the Madmen" by Clinton Heylin - the story of how six rock stars travelled to the edge of sanity in the years following the summer of love. The six in question are Pete Townsend of The Who, Ray Davies of the Kinks, Peter Green of the original Fleetwood Mac and not the pale imitation poppy group that later came into existence, Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd, Nick Drake and David Bowie. All were or are geniuses in their own way. Should I be worried that these are some of my all time music heroes and people I still listen to regularly? Am I therefore just a tad mad myself?
The book opens in interesting fashion with a discussion on the merits of anti psychiatrist R. D. Laing who undertook a lot or work into psychosis. Here is part of an entry in Wikipedia about Laing. "He took the expressed feelings of the individual patient or client as valid descriptions of lived experience rather than simply as symptoms of some separate or underlying disorder." Laing himself suffered from alcoholism and clinical depression which may or may not have made him the right person to talk about psychosis (depends on how much stock you put on personal experience here). Laing also had six sons and four daughters by four different women which later led to one of his sons saying "It was ironic that my father became well known as a family psychiatrist, when, in the meantime, he had nothing to do with his own family.." But I digress.
A number of years ago I studied for a Masters Degree at the University of East Anglia and can remember upsetting one of my fellow students early on with my views about the pointless lives of many people. I think she felt I was being a snob when I said that many people have empty lives of no meaning. They get up in the morning, go to work, come home, have tea, watch televisions and then repeat this endlessly. I was not suggesting that this was a bad thing but simply a fact and based on a number of my own relatives and my own experiences whilst growing up. To me this kind of existence is a waste of a life.
Anyway when I explained myself I got on very well with this other person who accepted that I wasn't looking down my nose at other people. I haven't seen this kind of view put quite as starkly as Laing does in his book "Sanity, Madness and the Family" where he formulates a view that "normal families" (whatever that term may mean as nobody has ever been able to explain to me exactly what normal means) are at least as disturbed as dysfunctional families. He has this to say:
"Every member of the families totally fitted - getting up and going to work, and going to school and coming back and watching television and doing nothing and going to bed. Nothing to say really. To get them to say anything about anything was almost impossible. They thought about nothing, they said nothing very much, they were just fucking dead and there was no edge, or no sharpness, or no challenge .... Just fuck all, an endless drone, about nothing... and these were the people who were not in despair."
So that started me thinking about the juxtaposition of being: If Madness is in fact sanity, could conversely sanity in fact be madness? Are people we consider to be normal actually mad and are people we consider to be mad actually normal? Because at the end of the day what does the term normal mean anyway?
Taken to the furthest point this idea of juxtaposition could equate with feelings about religion and God. Perhaps the concept of God as a being or energy force is not a model for good but a model for evil.
I don't necessarily subscribe to those thoughts but it does make some kind of perverted sense.
Anyway from the sublime to the ridiculous. Yesterday I was catching up with some television programmes recorded over the year (I still want to say taped despite no tape being involved) and came across a kind of Where are They Now programme based on a final of the New Faces talent show which came somewhere between the original Opportunity Knocks and today's X Factor crap.
Marti Caine (remember her) hosted the New Faces final with three judges sitting in a balcony looking and behaving a bit like Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets. There was comedian Jim Davidson, impresario and Everton FC chairman Bill Kenwright and somebody else whose name escapes me. Anyway this programme looked at the finalists from 1986 and saw how their careers?? had progressed or not as the case may be. I'm a sucker for these kind of "what did they do next" programmes. Suffice it to say that none of them really made the big time although comedian Billy Pearce is still working as a comic and Gary Lovini the 17 year old violinist who is now middle aged - well I'm sure I saw him on stage during one of our cruises and a check on Google shows that he does still appear on the Oceans of the world. New Faces did bring us some household names such as Joe Pasqale, Lenny Henry, Michael Barrymore, the Chuckle Brothers, Victoria Wood and Jim Davidson.
Incidentally one of the tough nut judges (the Gary Barlow or Simon Cowell of his day) was Clifford Davis who I believe was a journalist with the Daily Mirror. Many years ago I was on a judging panel for a band talent show on the Norfolk coast and Davis was on the panel. I seem to remember he was nowhere near as nasty in real life as he appeared to be on TV!!!!
Finally today a whinge about serious consumer television programmes trying to be funny. I just hate it. They come on at peak viewing time to expose dodgy deals or evil builders and to stick up for the small man in the street. That's great but, being on at prime time, they try to inject some comedy into things, thus lightening the load, making the show more entertaining and proving just what funsters (second time I have used that word today) the presenters can really be. It just doesn't work. If the subject is a serious one treat it in a serious way without the wisecracks. If the con or whatever is serious enough simply unmasking a villain is entertainment enough. The main culprit in this kind of "aren't I a larky chap who really is on the side of the underdog" is probably Matt Allright. Matt is a good enough investigative journalist without lowering what he is achieving with comedy routines that just aren't funny (some of which seem to revolve around a large Dutchman on a motorbike).
I Googled Matt Alright as well and found he is a patron for the SANDS (Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Society), a charity near to our hearts after our first grandchild was stillborn last year. So good on you Matt but stick to the serious stuff Allright?
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