I didn't know John Douglas well. But whenever I met him he was easy company with a centred kindness you couldn't fake. People only had good things to say about him. Another reminder that life is not fair.
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I have just finished David Sedaris "The Land And Its People". I could never pick a favourite Sedaris essay but, touching on mortality, "Friends" is pretty special.
Now trying this cos I liked Tokyo Express:
Ian Nairn. I liked watching this and therefore this. Somehow melancholic. And moving. And funny.
I like this image - by Renato Guttuso - very much:
'Woman Sewing'
Enjoyed Glasgowspotting in the latest Spiderman film.
Ever rubbed garlic on toasted bread then spooned on grated tomato mixed through with salt, pepper and extra virgin olive oil? If not - I recommend it.
Nearly finished - after an extended hiatus - the final season of Better Call Saul.
I am writing music for a feature length documentary that I can't tell you about.
So. A wee while ago I headed off to The Planetarium in Glasgow's Science Centre to sit in the dark, blindfolded, along with maybe 200 other fellow nerds enthusiasts, while Blonde On Blonde - sixty years since release - was piped through the sound system. An experience somehow both communal and personal.
Bob's vocals sounded *grrreat*. Wonderfully expressive. I could visualise him at the microphone. Lyrics that had been hiding in plain sight tugged at my sleeve:
"With your silhouette when the sunlight dims / Into your eyes where the moonlight swims"
... tasteful wee understated organ & guitar licks...occasional, sonically isolated ahead-of-the-beat tambourine taps...beautifully musical drum inflections which I supposed I had previously felt, sitting somewhere back there in the mix, but not really heard...
In the midst of all these revelations - specifically during I Want You and Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again - I think I zoned out, entering into a higher consciousness where time, memory and perception were suspended. Either that or I fell asleep. Assuming the latter, Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat came traipsing along to wake me up. If I was snoring my neighbours were polite enough not to tell me.
Before long Sad-Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands was waltzing off to sink beyond the horizon. Masterpiece over. Blindfolds off. A ripple of applause. The spell gently broken when an elderly woman turned to me and said, "It's John from pilates". I held her arm and returned her smile, "I'm afraid I'm not - your eyes are still adjusting." (I couldn't even point to Pilates on a map.)
Ah, Bob. How shall I compare thee? I simply can't. The things you make me do. See you in Blackpool in November.
In other news - look what we did on our holidays...
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