Toni Basil and Music for Dead People

Tuesday 22 March 2011 - As regular readers know, this blog gives an insight into how I view the world around as my iPod shuffles random songs, however today I turned off the shuffle and could not stop playing Nicole Scherzinger’s single ‘Poison’. it took 21 plays to get it out of my system.

Last week I had to collect a urine sample from my dog for the vets to test for diabetes, the test came back today negative for diabetes, but the vet wants to test for other things, so another sample is required. To do this I have to wait for him to cock his leg, and pop the scoop pictured above under him. Now this may sound easy but every time I try he stops peeing, gives me a look of disdain and walks away. I’m sure on the third attempt I heard him mutter ‘pervert’  as he walked away. However as the iPod shuffled in the dock on the kitchen windowsill, and as H.I.M start to play ‘Don’t Close Your Heart’ I see the dog sneaking out of the door. I grab the scoop and wait until he’s mid-flow, pop it under, and bingo the sample is collected, and he looks at me with disgust. It’s an odd feeling being satisfied with collecting a bottle of dog urine. Maybe that’s a new special skill to add to my CV?

Wednesday 23 March 2011 – First shuffle of the day is ‘Nobody’ by Toni Basil. It’s a shame that she’s remembered only for her no1 hit ‘Mickey’, she’s a talented choreographer and recorded many more songs that should have received the attention that the bubble gum cheerleader hit Mickey did.

Last week I was out in town when i stood watching a nun talking on her mobile phone as she walked along the street. She was very engrossed in her conversation and not paying attention, when she collided with a man walking towards her doing the same thing. The collision caused the two people to drop their phones, and the man looked mortified. I guess if you’re going to bump into someone on the street, the last person you’d want it to be is a nun. However it’s not the collision that made me smile, it was the fact that behind her was a poster advertising the touring production of The Sound of Music. (How do you solve a problem like Maria? You take her mobile phone off her).

I drive home and Pixie Lott: yes I have Pixie on my iPod, sings ‘Jack’, a white van pulls in front of me, and I smirk looking at its number plate. Okay I know it’s immature, but can you see what I saw?

Thursday 24 March 2011 – I pop into a supermarket to grab a few things. I’m meandering down the aisles when I see a group of white haired ladies gathered around the fresh fish stall. There’s six of them and with an estimated combined age of 390 I wonder what’s going on. I linger nearby and can hear them chatting and laughing. Suddenly a gem is issued from the lips of a sweet looking lady, she says, “Why is it that just because you have white hair people think you like his music?” There’s a nod of agreement from the group, then she says, “Daniel O’Donnell, that’s not music for the elderly, it’s music for dead people.” There’s a further group agreeing nod, followed by laughter as they move away towards the pickles and chutney aisle. 

Saturday 26 March 2011 – It’s a dull morning today, I’m in the kitchen making my second cuppa of the day as the Boomtown rats play ‘the Elephant’s Graveyard’. I look out of the window and spot something weird on my car windscreen. I go outside: dressed only in slippers and pyjama bottoms to investigate. Oddly enough in the middle of the glass screen is a handprint. It reminds me of the Kiefer Sutherland horror flick, Mirrors. I shiver, maybe because it’s cold or because I’m just a little bit creeped out by it. 

We’ve all been hearing in the new lately about the austerity measures being taken in local government, councils are making cutbacks all over the country. So why did Stoke on Trent city council waste money on pointless mass produced maps of cycle paths. I mention this because our local paper has been filled with doom and gloom about the proposed austerity measures, and today two expensively printed items dropped through my letter box. One is a completely pointless magazine that doesn’t really say anything apart from telling you which council ward you reside in. The other is fold out full colour map showing you where all the cycle routes in the city are. (Because I lie awake most nights wondering if there’s one near the cemetery in Stoke.) Surely the money could have been put to better use?

In the evening, I’m getting dressed as Toni Basil shuffles to the fore once more, this time it is the insufferable ‘Mickey’ but nothing can dampen my spirits as I’m off out with school mates from way back when.

Two Lunches, Moaning Men and Special Beer

Recently I had a week that seemed more food orientated that usual. I seemed to eat out more than usual the week of March 7, more so on the Wednesday. I was out having lunch at The Cherry Tree, with my friend Lara, a lovely time of good company and nice food was being had. As I bade her farewell, promising we’d do it again the following week my phone rang. “Hello,” I said. “Hey Baz,” my friend Colin said, “I’m running late, can we do lunch an hour later?” “Err, yes.” I stammered. I had completely forgotten I had arranged to meet him for lunch weeks before.So with thoughts of that Christmas special of the Vicar of Dibley going through my head, I headed off for my second lunch of the day.

I’m walking through town as the iPod shuffles and Skunk Anansie start to play ‘It Takes Blood and Guts’. I stop to look at the sign in the Indian restaurant window. I have read the sign many times, and it always makes me smile. It’s a list of customer reviews; oddly enough though none of them appear to have been written by anyone who’s native language is English. I’m not saying the owners have written the reviews as a form of self publicity, but here are a couple for you to make up your own mind. “I am coming every week with my family to the ******* and we are never having a bad meal.” and “We are eating here many time, the service is outstanding as are the foods.”

Thursday sees us in Morrisons, (not a supermarket I frequent, for personal reasons) and we decide to have one of their breakfasts. We are sat in a corner, the sunshine is glancing through the window and all is peaceful. That is until six men of pension age gather on a nearby table. The chatter is constant and each one seems to think it’s a competition to speak louder than the previous one. Being a fan of people watching and conversation snooping I take interest in the party. They all seem to be talking about how they spent the winter overseas, and there are a few gems that I hear.

Man 1: “Did you have a nice time in Lanzarote, Bill?”

Bill: “Nah, too bloody hot.”

Man 1: “Was it your first time there Bill?”

Bill: “Nah, we go every year.”

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Man 2: “Where did you spend winter this year?”

Man 3: “Benidorm, but I don’t think we’ll go again.”

Man 2: “Why’s that?”

Man 3: “Prices have shot up, all down to that bleeding TV show, wife reckons.”

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Ted: “We had a great time in Majorca didn’t we Arthur?”

Arthur: “Hey we did, didn’t we Ted?”

Ted: “Wives liked it too, didn’t they Arthur?”

Arthur: “They did, didn’t they Ted?”

Man 4: “What did you like about it?”

Ted: “They had optics in the bedroom mini bar, isn't that right Arthur?”

Arthur; “Yes they had optics didn’t they Ted?”

And the week was rounded off with a curry with friends in Scholar Green, and very good it was too. So much wanting to lose a few pounds.

Saturday, and with the iPod doing it’s job I walk around the retail village at Trentham, with Angela McCluskey singing ‘Truth Is’ from her 'You Could Start A Fight In An Empty House Album: An album I’ve not made my mind up about yet. I take a trip into the farm shop to grab a few things when I spot some bottles of beer that had been featured on the TV a few evenings before. It’s a beer that is brewed at Shugborough Hall, a historic estate and stately home in Staffordshire. Shugborough Hall Website is here The TV show was saying that the beers called His Lordships Own and Mi Lady’s Fancy are very good, so I purchase a couple of bottles of this special for our special friends over in Italy.

I drive home iPod plugged in with KC and the Sunshine Band playing ‘Sound Your Funky Horn’, the sun is shining and all is good with the world. (Well for the time being, that is.)

Am I a Genius?

First I must apologise for letting the blog slip for a few weeks, there have been several reasons, some due to work commitments, some down to my continuing education and others are because of sheer laziness.

During the half term, I was once again working with The Action Project, this time we did a modern version of the classic tale, Pinocchio. We set the story to electronic music and instead of Pinocchio being a puppet, it became a robot names Annie Matronic that is rescued after it refuses to work. The part was played by 8 year old Molly: Her first lead role in a show. She worked really hard; as did all the students, and pulled off a full 45 minutes in front of an audience with no one there to prompt her or remind her what scene comes next. How i get these performances out of these young children in just 4.5 days I don’t know. Either I’m a genius or a hard taskmaster.

My two favourite parts of the show were, Sally and Katya’s rendition of the Dionne Warwick classic, ‘Don’t Make Me Over’ and Dan, Brad and Georgia’s dance to ‘I.C. Code’ by Gina X.

The next blog instalment should be up tomorrow, it’s all about food and overheard conversations, with this weeks hopefully on time on Sunday….Look out for the colliding nun. Ciao a tutti x