Post 284. A LITTLE TOUCH OF SCHMILSSON

STILL LIGHTENS MY HEART.

Yep, a month into the new year
and time again to battle my annual inclination to cancel everything and hybernate for whatever remains of winter. Harry Nilsson (above) has been a godsend for years: A little touch of SCHMILSSON in the night on the music centre transforms my SAD into relatively optimistic for as long as it lasts, i.e. long enough to get me back to the keyboard with a faint smile on my face.
After that it's all a bit of a lottery. Finding music that is easy to listen to whilst retaining the incentive to scribble is not as simple as it may seem: few albums are good right through and those that are can be more of a distraction than an inspiration. I would perhaps eschew background music altogether - I do on the rare occasions I drive the car - but there's not just myself to consider: in our current ground floor living situation there's also my Leader
AND A CERTAIN CAT.

The cat Shadow can doze peacefully to Doris Day, Nilsson, Robeson, Tauber, The Hollies, most piano concertos and anything tuneful on the violin: I think the latter has some archaic connection to catgut.
He is not keen on anything too loud, clearly favours the romantic school, and is out of the cat flap like a bullet the moment Sir Simon or whoever opines that modern classical music is anything other than a cacophony. (I have taught him rather well. It's not.)
Right now he is asleep on a chair in front of a radiator and in sight of Mo's sewing machine in the study next door. She is working there.
The chosen music is gentle.
He is blissfully happy.
That's good. It spreads.
TELEVISION.

We have been watching the French series Spiral on BBC Four, the English series Kiri (with Sarah Lancashire - pictured) on Channel 4, and have finally watched the Bond film Spectre, originally shown on ITV1 on New Year's Day.
The French series contains more sexual content than the Bond film and the English series is more disturbing than either of them.
None of it has shocked or affected me as much as have the latest episodes of Silent Witness.
I can laugh at Still Open All Hours and Death in Paradise (picture below), too, and be close to tears over Call the Midwife.
I know, 'get' and 'a life' spring to mind.
All for now.

Next month: Text it, Brexit or Trump it?
Cheers.

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Post 283. TO START 2018.

IN COLD LIGHT.

Whatever the tunnel it does all look rather black.
Somebody on television (possibly the ubiquitous Miriam Margolyes, top marks to her agents) recently remarked that they saw no light at the end of a tunnel.
How very sad that is, whoever said it.
But how understandable when you stop to think: around the world there is nonstop conflict, much of it indescribably bloody.
So vast are the numbers trying to escape assault or annihilation that many of the countries where refuge is customarily given are talking migrant saturation and threatening to close their doors.
What can anyone do?
Well in this country it seems what we do is try to sell arms to even more tinpot dictators than the current crop from whom we currently obtain billions of pounds a year (and probably sustain better than 100,000 jobs).
Nobody in government will ever be seen to lose such a buoyant source of revenue.
I think it's called 'economics' or, in political terms, 'common sense.'
I wish I could be optimistic, but in cold light, whatever the tunnel, it does all look rather black.
The rich get richer and the poor get stateless.
Not very promising, is it.
So, on a lighter note...
TELEVISION.  

Rummaging through my list of saved television programmes recently I found another recording of The Good Old Days (this one circa 1980) with Leeds City Varieties favourite Robert White on the bill.
He sang three songs and on that occasion concluded with the John McCormack signature tune I Hear You Calling Me.
It could have been the Count himself up there.
As he acknowledged the applause I said to my Leader: "Now that's a singer. Every word as clear as a bell." 
She smiled. "And effortless," she said.
Mr. White is also listed to appear on a Good Old Days (1980) repeat to be shown on BBC Four next Friday (19th January, 2018).
He was eighty one on the 27th October 2017. Doubtless still singing.
Doubtless, too, he will never see this blog post.
But belated birthday greetings anyway, maestro, and many happy returns.
SO ON TO.
An email Fw: Google Pizza sent to me by old pal David Parry which I hope appeals not only to those to whom I have already sent it but to anybody else who may read it, including those faceless geniuses at Google:
CALLER: Is this Gordon's Pizza?
GOOGLE: No sir, it's Google Pizza.
CALLER: I must have dialled a wrong number. Sorry.
GOOGLE: No sir, Google bought Gordon's Pizza last month.
CALLER: OK. I would like to order a pizza.
GOOGLE: Do you want your usual, sir?
CALLER: My usual? You know me?
GOOGLE: According to our caller ID data sheet, the last 12 times you called you ordered an extra-large pizza with three cheeses, sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms and meatballs on a thick crust.
CALLER: OK! That's what I want ...
GOOGLE: May I suggest that this time you order a pizza with ricotta, arugula, sun-dried tomatoes and olives on a whole wheat gluten free thin crust?
CALLER: What? I detest vegetables.
GOOGLE: Your cholesterol is not good, sir.
CALLER: How the hell do you know that?GOOGLE: Well, we cross-referenced your home phone number with your medical records. We have the result of your blood tests for the last 7 years.
CALLER: Okay, but I do not want your rotten vegetable pizza! I already take medication for my cholesterol.
GOOGLE: Excuse me sir, but you have not taken your medication regularly. According to our database, you only purchased a box of 30 cholesterol tablets once, at Drug RX Network, 4 months ago.
CALLER: I bought more from another drugstore.
GOOGLE: That doesn't show on your credit card statement.
CALLER: I paid in cash.
GOOGLE: But you did not withdraw enough cash according to your bank statement.
CALLER: I have other sources of cash.
GOOGLE: That doesn't show on your last tax return unless you bought them using an undeclared income source, which is against the law.
CALLER: WHAT THE HELL?
GOOGLE: I'm sorry, sir, we use such information only with the sole intention of helping you.
CALLER: Enough already! I'm sick to death of Google, Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp and all the others. I'm going to an island without internet, cable TV, where there is no cell phone service and no one to watch me or spy on me.
GOOGLE: I understand sir, but you need to renew your passport first. It expired 6 weeks ago...
AND FINALLY.

Must go now: it's time for The Archers (an everyday story of BBC cosmopolitan country folk) on BBC Radio 4.
Keep smiling.