Saturday, April 01, 2006

Van Morrison

John gave me his Van Morrison ticket and a quick lesson in what to expect:
“He’s promoting his country album so there won’t be any trumpet or sax, and he won’t play his classics. But if he’s in the mood it’ll be a great show.”
“What if he’s not in the mood?”
“If he’s not in the mood, or he doesn’t feel the audience are into it… he might walk off. Or turn his back on the audience and sing like that.”
“Cool!”
“But he hasn’t done that for years. Here’s some things to watch out for. He’ll give a little nod or just look at someone in the band and they’ll go off on a solo, or you’ll see him pump his fist and they’ll play faster. He’s so talented he can hear all the instruments, so if he hears a mistake he’ll give them a dirty look. Then sometimes he’ll pick up on the mood of the audience, and he’ll bring the band down really really quiet… and keep it there… and just at the right moment… up! They’ll go loud again. His timing is really perfect. But you won’t get that tonight – it’ll just be some country stuff. About 50% of it is good.”
The show was, simply, 100% good. Or a word that means better than good. Superb, perhaps.
My seat was about five metres directly in front of Van Morrison. He treated me to the full range of tricks – little nods, hand signals, playing really quietly, everything John had told me about! And, if I weren’t spoiled enough, he sang Brown Eyed Girl, Gloria, Days Like This, and my favourite, Moondance.
Mr. Van Morrison, ladies and gentlemen!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Proudly Prodigious

Watching a Movie with Susan in Amsterdam

Susan and I went to see Pride and Prejudice, starring Keira Knightley. As the title faded off the screen, Susan asked, “What does prodigious mean?” “Er… well prejudice means judging someone by looking at them.”

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Fight Club


I joined an underground boxing club. I've never even thrown a punch before, but my dastardly cousin Steve decided to skip basic training so that he could punch me in the face. The comic is 100% true and factual. Only the mustaches have been changed.

Click on the left to see a bigger version, then zoom in to read the words easier (zoom by clicking on it again). My thanks to Rick for drawing it.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

The Early Bird Catches the Towel

The Early Bird Catches the Towel


The cockroaches slept; I could not. I tried Chinese medicine, and bought a hot water bottle, but I didn’t have a decent night’s sleep until I bought a space heater. By then it was nearly spring. I wish I’d bought it three months earlier – Susan might have slept with me then. That’s how cold it was.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Art and Artifice

“Susan, you can stay here as long as you want. Really, it’s no problem.” At this point most hot women I’ve met would frown and call me ‘creepy’. But Susan smiled and said, “Oh, that’s so sweet!” She spoke with a Dutch accent. She was sexy and beautiful. She had long hair, was tall, and wore a blue scuba diving outfit. “You must be Andrew," she said. I’d only been obsessed with her for two minutes and she already knew I existed. I was making tremendous progress.

She got into the bed next to me, and Dani got in next to her. They didn’t like the movie I was watching, so they talked. Dani said she had slept with a Chinese girl in Beijing, and the Chinese girl had worn paper underwear. Susan squirmed with delight. To understand the word ‘squirmed’ in this context, imagine seductive dancing as a reflex action. “Paper underwear! Paper underwear!” I said, trying to make her do it again.

As Susan talked, I stared at her. Her hair was burnt umber, she had an earring in the top of her ear as well as the bottom, and one tress of hair liked to fall in front of her right eye, which was the equal of the left for perfection. Her lips were suggestive; cameras dreamed about her cheek bones. Her tight scuba outfit left little, and yet so much, to the imagination. Imagine the most perfect woman you have ever seen, and then know that Susan makes her look like a bored child’s drawing on a balloon.

I asked if she had a job. She said she ‘made art.’ “Oh good,” I said, switching to a low, sincere voice, “Art is really important to me. I think art speaks to me about my life. Art helps to show me how to live. It tells me about who I am and where I am going. I really try to make time to think about art and what art means to me.” Susan was moved. “That’s how I feel about art!”

Dani changed the subject so she could complain about Martin. She was annoyed that he was pretending to be a gentleman instead of ravishing her. Susan said, “So he never even tried to kiss you, you just watched DVDs together, he never said, ‘Oh we’ve been doing this for some time now, I think we can be more than friends,’ or something like that?” “No.”

I realised my 20-minute relationship with Susan had developed along similar lines to Dani and Martin’s, i.e. we watched DVDs together but didn’t talk about our feelings. I drew myself up and turned to look into Susan’s eyes. “Susan, there’s something I’d like to tell you,” I said. “We’ve been doing this for some time, and I’d like to express my true feelings for you.” “Do you mean ‘express’, or ‘tell’?” She was leading me on! I had lost the element of surprise. “Er… tell. Please allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and respect you, as a woman and as an artist.” She giggled. Dani shook her head at me. “Andrew, you’re not interested in art. I’ve never heard you mention art, ever. Why are you being so weird?”

Dani hadn’t seen me flirting before so she didn’t know that’s what it was.