Dear followers, my chosen ones, I bring you sad tidings. I’m afraid that I am currently at death’s door – facing the journey to Valhalla, heaven, or wherever the hell those elves (and elite hobbits) sailed to at the end of LOTR. Mrs 1537 mocked me, jeering that I only have a bad cold, that I was suffering from ‘man-flu’. Whereas I know that it’s much more serious than that – I’ve got a runny nose AND a sore throat AS WELL as a chesty cough – truly, my race is almost run. Forsooth.
In fact if it wasn’t for a recent spontaneous act of generosity from Scotland – for which my nation’s rugby team will repay his nations’ one with a hefty drubbing on Saturday, watched by me – I fear I might even have given up the ghost already. Jim D(e)ad, or Mr Resurrection as his friends know him sent me the wonderful gift of Masters of Reality which I was already itching to hear again following his excellent review and Songs of The Free by Gang of Four LP and they’re a band I’ve been meaning to dig further into for many years. Thank you again Jim, your generous gift has probably allowed me to bless this planet with an extra 48 hours of my presence.
Of a similar ilk, although one involving less gratitude since it involved a hard cash transaction, I also bought my first ever Jimmy Smith LP today Midnight Special. All I can say is that a) Blue Note weren’t exaggerating when they put ‘The Incredible Jimmy Smith’ on the cover and b) The music is every bit as good as the brilliant cover picture. I am a cooler, better, more attractive man just for owning this object… for however long I have left.
So please all of you, pray to your (other) Gods, offer up sacrifices to the eldritch spirits that with their help I might overthrow my life-threatening sore throat and live to blog about nonsense again. In the meantime I will try not to walk towards the light.
632 Down (still)
