Head Snatches from Late April

Kinda think the only thing we can really do in regard to Wisdom Books is begin to make cut backs. That means less people working there and those that stay working there working for less. Simple as that really. Ya gotta look at the most obvious places for savings and for us that means first and foremost the payroll.

It will mean that Granty Boy in the packing department is gonna have to be given his marching orders which is gonna be tough as he has been with us for over seven years now and is well habituated to coming in and doing his stuff day in day out for the working week.

Will also mean that the recently implemented pay rise for all of us, keeping level with inflation, will have to be taken away and people will have to go back to last year's wage figures. We will have to insist that our star accountant, Jimmy the Legs Legon can only do a maximum of three days in the office each month plus payroll.

Finally Mikel de Gilmore will not be able to work sats from now on, there is no need as often no one comes in the shop and the phones can sometimes be dead.

When I mentioned all this to Tamdin last night over a beer she also said that Leigh could work less and take less as a result because he is in a similar position to me in that he doesn't have to work to survive. Don't know how that will go down however. It might then mean we can spare Granty Boy getting the chop completely but that decision is also kind of tied in with how much work there is to do in the first place.

If all those measures above are followed through it should result in savings of 1200 - 1300 quid a month and the way things are going we are going to most definitely need that money.

Best thing I think I can say to Garnty Boy if he does have to go is that we are laying him off and that if things get better after the summer he will be able to come back in Oct or something like that. Really dunno what else to say. If push comes to shove.

It will then be down to me, Mikel and Leo Boy to cover the bases left by Granty Boy's departure from the warehouse. That means going down and doing things like packing and booking in stock ourselves. There just aint no two ways about it. If we don't have this contingency measure in place then all of us will not have jobs to do a few more months down the line, let alone just one of us.

Best plan at the moment is to give things another month, till the end of May, and then see how things stand. If May is poor in terms of sales then we will have to tell Granty that as far as his career at Wisdom Books is concerned it is curtains for him at the end of June. Nuthin' else to be done, simple as that. Oh shit.

Hate it when work thoughts impede on things to the extent they do at the moment but that is just the way it is. Would like to be able to talk about so much more but my locker is empty at the moment, just ain't that much else I can see on the horizon. As a kind of stress relief I have picked up my copy of Lord of the Rings that I have never read before and have now begun to read it. Nice hardback edition of all three vols under one cover that I bought back in '94. Dip into it now and again and am enjoying it. Good to be able to get lost in the world of Tolkein. Top drawer imagination he had, aint no doubt about that. Dunno if I'll be able to stick with it to the end however as it aint half a hefty fucker.

Eve now still Sat. Hot day, for April really quite ridiculous, but as far as weather goes the ridiculous is now gonna be the norm so we just better get used to it. Aint no turning back now, man as a creature on this planet is soon gonna find out just how clever he really is.

Anyway besides all that crack o'doom shit which every tom dick an' harry wants ta write about these days I have to say that today has been a laid back kinda day, low key and really quite relaxing. Suits me. Tamdin has needed the rest as well.

Took up from where I left off after writing here earlier today and spent a fair part of the morning reading The Lordys in the garden, both in the sun and in the shade, depending on how hot it got. Kinda went on like that till lunch. Coupla times went down to the shops at the bottom of the hill. Once to get milk and bananas, once to post a package of medicine on behalf of Tamdin and get some rolls for lunch.

Ended up buying some pretty tasty looking organic ale as well on this second trip. A glass of which I will look forward to drinking tonight. I also stopped and had a chat with the Woodford Tramp. He usually hangs out in the doorway of the building next to Oddbins and on an average day he is there morning noon and night, occasionally hanging round other places in the immediate vicinity.

Today Woodford Tramp was by the bench across the road from Oddbins and underneath the trees. He often hangs round there at lunch time to eat his food. He was wearing a pretty bright yellow jumper today and there was a reason for it. He told me when I stopped to have a chat after posting the package that the day before a woman had come up to him and handed him a bag full o' designer clothes. For some reason he thought she was exactly 24 years of age. Apparently she told him her husband or partner had left her and the clothes belonged to him. Woodford Tramp was now welcome to have them she said. He told me it was beautiful clobber, designer stuff and worth a bob o' two. This morning however he became paranoid about putting any of it on in case the husband drove by, saw Woodford Tramp wearing his stuff, got his shooter out and let him have had. Stranger things have happened Woodford Tramp told me. So that was why he was now in a bright yellow jumper, so there could be no mistake that he was not wearing someone else's precious gear that he had no right to. Got the feelin' he was gonna bide his time on that one, let it blow over and start wearing it. As usual our little talk ended with me giving him 50p so he could go and get a Tango later on.

After lunch me and Tamdin went to Waitrose to do a bit of food shopping. Kinda pretty busy there as I was expecting. Sat afternoon and all that. We go there pretty damn often it has to be said and certainly plenty of the staff are familiar faces along with a few customers now as well. My favourite is the tall well built Japanese guy with a pony tail who I like to call Mr Fujihara. He is often in there at the same time as me and Tamdin. He is clearly a discerning customer, there aint no about that and he buys quality produce nearly all of it organic from what I can tell when I steal a glance at his basket. Clearly buying the right food, buying good food, is important to him and I guess I would be kinda curious to see exactly what it is that Mr Fujihara cooks up for himself in his ktichen. By the looks of things he is a bit of a ladies man as well as there is often a woman with him and I can't quite kinda work out whether it is the same one who just looks different all the time or just a whole string o' girlfriends he's got a bubblin'.

From Waitrose it was then down to Homebase in W'Stow for paint. Next w/end is a bank holiday and the plan at the moment is for me to paint the walls and ceiling of the landing. Ended up getting a tub of Dulux matt emulsion called Apricot Crush. The fuckin' names they have for things these days! Think it is gonna go on pretty well though, at least I kinda hope so. Painting is one of the very few DIY tasks with which I can acquit myself quite reasonably so all should be fine when it comes ta slapping it on.

We kinda hung round the Base for a while looking at garden furniture as well but thankfully this time we did not get into an argument with each other over whether or not to buy a parasol. Thing is we do need some shade for the garden and the decking but ya can't just buy a parasol on it's own it seems without running the risk that the thing will continually fall over every time the slightest breeze comes along. Ya have to get a table to stick it through and that just means more stuff out back 'coz if ya get a table then you will have to get chairs as well. We already have four garden chairs plus two white chairs and a little table so the whole area would get pretty damn choked if we went for more. Stuff. It's never ending. The ceaseless accumulation of it can exhaust ya, aint no doubt about that.

Back to the Boiler

Last week of the month now but still warm and dry. April showers and all that kinda shit are most definitely a thing of the past. The drought years are upon us an' best of luck to ya. Grass looking dry and wasted already, not even May. Oh fuck, oh bloody fuck. Should be an interesting summer. Been sleeping well this week as all the exertions of last week get flushed outta my system. Dylan at the beginning was the big one. Yeah, can't get much bigger really, well ya can but not with the kinda life I'm leading. Go on to Expecting Rain everyday to check on Bob's progress as he makes his way through Europe on this Spring 07 leg of the Never Ending Tour. Since I saw him Bob has played shows in Germany and France and tonight he is in Geneva. Kinda makes me wanna just hop on a plane and go over there to catch his show. What a buzz that would be! He is gradually getting further and further and south and will soon be in the land of the Romans. Lucky Bob, the talented, the immensely talented old bastard.

Began to have money worries again at Wisdom. Serious money worries and they have kinda crept up outta nowhere but now they are here and there aint no hidin' away from them. Went through one of those 'orrible sweaty periods last night when I just couldn't get it out of my mind how much money Wisdom owed to various people, companies and organisations, and how the hell, how the bloody fuckin' hell, we were ever gonna pay everything back. It will only get worse as the year goes on if the sales don't improve. Aint no doubt about that. All this latest internal grief came about 'coz the website was out of action for 24 hrs on Mon which meant we lost a fair bit of business just at a time when we could have done with something like that coming along just like we would have wanted a great big hole in the fuckin' 'ead.

Makes ya feel kinda helpless just sitting there in the office not knowing what the hell it is your are supposed to do. Dream up new strategies, find new ways of increasing sales, stuff like that. Yeah, all that kinda shit. All can get to seem pretty damn desperate at times though and I guess there is a part of me which would be more than a little relieved if it got to the point where we just would not be able to carry on. Too many bills to pay so that one day we make the dreaded call to the receivers to pull the plug. Relief that it is finally all over would be my first emotion, I'm pretty sure of that. Aint jokin'. Nah, just like Bob at his shows aint talkin', I aint jokin'. Dunno how the hell it is that I am still at Wisdom after nearly 18 years but there you go, facts are facts. We all have to take responsibility for the paths we take in life and mine are laid out plain an' simple, can trace them back pretty damn far if I wanted to and yeah man I can hold my hands up fair and square an' say head on that it aint nobody's fault but mine.

All can seem a bit of a joke anyway when ya consider what it is we actually doin'. Here we are thinking of strategies to stay alive as business. The business is selling books, cds, dvds and other stuff on, primarily, Buddhism. What is Buddhism though Chief? The path of letting go, the path of less desire, getting to the point where ya can just sit in a room with ya mind and be happy, be very happy. Renounce an' pounce upon the wonder of the simplicity of it all. Think we at Wisdom Books sometimes go in the opposite direction. Yeah man, off into money valley and the ponies of slavery yoked to our necks.

Main thing that is dragging us down is the money we are having to put aside to have the boiler and heating system replaced. 14 grand. Absolute killer. No two ways about it and now it is beginning to bite. Stretching things to the point where others who we owe are just gonna have to miss out until we get this done and dusted. All calculations of course to a certain extent depend on continued good business an' at the moment the fact of the matter is business could be better. We have to take it as a given to a point that orders from our customers will continue to come in through the door, but the hiccup, the fuck up in the system, we have had in that department is that the orders have slowed to a trickle recently and when that happens we really are in a bit of a fucked up situation. We need the orders, I gotta snivelling well say, oh boy we really need 'em.

Loadsa money also going out at the moment 'coz it is mail out time. That means paying Jimbo to stuff all the supplements, label them an' bag 'em up.Then paying for the postage to get them out the door and paying to get the literature printed. All money, hard earned dosh which flies right out the window again. Do I think we'll crash? Yeah there is a chance. Website seems at times weather driven. If is it nice and sunny then people don't surf unless they are on a beach of course; as far as El Webo is concerned however it can go down to Jack Diddly Squat. What we need is a prolonged spell of miserable wet and cloudy weather but the way things are going it is in just the opposite direction. More dry days and hot sun, parched grass and barbecues. People making the best of things before the end of the world. Not interested in turning round their lives. Yeah an' to be honest with ya I just can't see things changing in the near future.

So there we sit in the desert of the office. Leigh, Mike and myself. So many years now. Institutionalised. We work well as a team but all things are finite, nothing is a given an' bust is bust, fuckin' simple as that. We can't expect to have the right to last forever and it might be that as far as Wisdom Books are concerned we are reaching the end times. The bye bye times.

Now don't ya get me wrong. There aint no pint in acting defeatist or anything like that. We aint about to give in but at the same time ya gotta be realistic. No, as far as the boundaries and borders exist within the areas which we operate we will do all that we can to stay afloat. But that is all that we can do. Our best. After that there are just some things we cannot control. Like six months ago when the boiler packed up and we found that we had signed up to a fully repairing lease and were therefore responsible for getting a new one. To ignore those kinda things would be to court even more grief further down the road. We will just battle on. See what happens. Keep things are tight as possible. Try to stay positive. An' fuckin' go bust.

Measures we can take to save bills would obviously have to start with the workforce and whether we can afford to keep everyone. In fact I just given us all a slight wage rise and I guess every year, hook or by crook, we manage to do that and that is something to be quietly satisfied about. As far as the general level of the game is concerned at least we are keepin' up. Yeah man, I have given us the same increases as per the national average. But when push comes to shove if we have to shrink then shrink we will. Close things up. Downstairs two packers will become one. Then three in the office will become two. Shrinkin' up. Stuff like that. Jimbo doing the accounts will have to go in favour of a cheaper alternative, or at least we will have to cut him down. Think I will have to list out all the debts we have later this week so that I have a firm grasp on the situation. Management planning. If those things are clear we might have a chance. Then again, we might just simply be fucked.

Thurs now. What I wrote above was on Wed. Don't look like it's getting any better at work, in fact I think it might even get worse. Bills, bills, bills. Means we're gonna go bust, bust, bust. Just don't see any other way about it. Horrible feeling in one way but in another no one would be more relieved than me if the whole thing came crashing down. Spent too much time over the last 18 years worrying about Wisdom and whether or not it is gonna pull through as it lurches from crises to another. Really, do I wanna spend the whole of the rest of my life worrying about such things? Would be good, would be really good to be able to move onto something else and all this garbage behind. Shit like money. Worrying about not having enough of this, not having enough of that. Brings me down. Even if I leave and end up doing something which is just standing still then so what? Things can only go so far.

Scrapin' around in an East London dog fight to stay in business. Ya know it can really get to the point where you just wanna put your hands up in the air and say OK deal is done, we aint gonna be able go any further...the relief, the bliss of being able to wake up in the morning and look out upon new horizons...can't ell ya how good that might be. Yeah I know, might not be that good at all 'coz it is always tempting to think the grass is greener on the other side. Yeah man, always easy to think that. But in this case it might actually be true.

Fri now. Fri morn. Not a great night's sleep. All for the reasons as stated above. Work worries, what a piss pile of wasted energy yeah? Woke up at five. Mind busy with thoughts, useless thoughts and it meant an hour or so tossing an' turning before grabbing a little bit more shut eye before seven. Then up an' through the usual morning rituals before landing here at just gone 7.30. In front of the Lap an' looking at the green grass outta the window.

Weather cooler today. Kinda confusing. Gotta go into town tonight and it is difficult to know what the best clothes to wear are gonna be. Might have my hair cut today as well. Getting kinda longish for me so yeah it is time to get my locks chopped. Always go to the same place which is Michael's down in Walthamstow. Have done for years, at least 12 now I guess, maybe more. Usually once every six to eight weeks. Michael is a Greek Cypriot who has thought for many years that this country is going to the dogs. Too many immigrants, too many 'orrible Muslims milking the system in his opinion. Takin' the fuckin' piss and at the same time wanting to blow us up. Breakdown of law and order where justice for the common man has been thrown right out the window. Difficult sometimes not to stoke his fires if ya see what I mean. Yeah man, I know how to play the Devil as well.

Michael however has been a bit less vociferous in his opinions about all things wrong with Britain for the last three years or so because he has had big problems with his prostrate and has had major surgery to get things back in working order. Mucho paino aint no doubt about that. Pain has mellowed him, close shaves with the Reaper has toned his rantings down and now it can be kinda difficult to fire him up. All he wants to do is stay alive, get out as often as possible to his holiday home on Cyrpus and sit in the sun. Who can really blame him for that? We all have only a short time. These days he always talks well of the NHS and how well they looked after him so maybe things aint quite so bad after all with the old UK as far as Michael is concerned.

Michael does have his son and nephews there however and they have kinda picked up the baton as far as talking the game of the UK going to the dogs is concerned and when I walk outta the place sometimes it is as much as I can do to stop myself from finding a buncha strange faces an' calling the boys in to see 'em hanging from on high. Them, the troublers...Yeah man, I'm easily influenced I have to say. Kinda can lose sight of the ball completely and forget why I am here on the earth when I'm at Michael's. And why am I here? Oh yeah, essentially as a meditator and a man engaged in the business of selling Buddhism. Ta spread as much peace an' love as humanly possible during my short time here before moving on to Planet Zonk. Yeah, like fuck. I just don't wanna be a lousy stinkin' failure.

Cost o' Bob

Two Bob shows on a roll and the aftermath is I'm feelin' kinda shattered. Two shows in London, both in Wembley, other side o' da town for me but I willingly trekked over. If ya's is lucky the cross town trip on the old publicio transportio can be done in about 1 hr 15. Really there are 2 options as far as the tubio is concerned - Central to Liverpool St and then change onto the Metropolitan to take ya up to Wembley Park, or Central to Bond St and then Jubilee to Wembley Park, there are other choices like just going down to Stratford on the Central and taking the Jubilee all the way to Wembley but that is really not an option unless ya got the time.

Bob was good, Bob was great even, but as I sit here now a day after the event I have those usual thoughts I always have of whether I will bother to see him again. I know this is because I am feeling tired and there is no other reason. By the end of the week I will probably sitting at my Lap dreamin' of whether to catch a cheap flight over to the Continent to try and catch one last show before he heads back to Yankee Dandle.

These were the 29th and 30th times I have seen Bob and by now of course it is easy for me to recognise how certain parts of the set are cast in stone, they just aint gonna change. So for this round of shows it means that Bob plays guitar for the first four songs before trotting off to stand behind his electric keyboard for the rest of the set and for the encore. It means that the opening song is almost certainly gonna be Cat's In the Well, a song from the forgotten 1990 album Under the Red Sky which 10 or 12 years ago used to be a set closer. End of the main set is always gonna be Summer Days followed by Like a Rolling Stone. There just aint gonna be any doubt about that. Summer Days has proved to be the most played Love and Theft song by far since the album was first released on 9/11. For a number of years now it has resided as the rock out number at the end of the main set and there is no end in sight for it as yet. Similarly Like a Rolling Stone is always guaranteed a position somewhere in the set due to it's legacy which hints at infinity of course and these days it comes right after Summer Days. It changes from tour to tour, for quite a few years it was one of the two encore songs, the other being All Along the Watchtower. Things have changed slightly in this regard, now the encore is Thunder on the Mountain and Watchtower. Always, without fail. Well, nearly.

Thunder on the Mountain of course is one of the new songs from Bob's Aug 2006 release Modern Times and from that album we got on both nights six songs which meant that Bob has built his current set pretty much around the new material. This of course is fantastic news for people like myself who have seen Bob many times as it guarantees us performances of songs we have not heard Bob play live before. It meant that besides Thunder we also got on both nights - Levee's Gonna Break, Spirit on the Water, When the Deal Goes Down, Rollin' and Tumblin'. Then on the first night we got the show stopper Nettie Moore and in it's place on the second night we got Aint Talkin' which was not as show stopping but still pretty damn handy dandy.

The two Wembley shows were therefore far richer in content and far more meaningful and interesting than the two shows from 2006 that I caught which were in Cardiff and Bournemouth. Last year it was clear that we were getting to fag end of the Love and Theft material shows and it had got to the stage where there were almost collective groans from the crowd when Bob played songs such as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum yet again. As a matter of fact I quite like the way he and the band explore the hidden contours which this song possesses but I know for a fact that a lot of people out there just do not see it that way. They are sick to their back teeth of hearing it.

Well anyway, it don't matter now as those days are now behind us. We have got Modern Times and it is going to be the songs from that which Bob will build his set around for the near future, meaning at least the next couple of years. I will be kinda flabbergasted if I am proved wrong on this point but we shall see. Don't get me wrong I aint complaining because his versions of all the Modern Times material I heard from the Wembley shows are versions are I could quite happily listen to again and again and I will not even have to do that as I am sure Bob will tinker with their arrangements before very long anyway.

Wembley first nite. Sunday, hot day, really hot day. Slap bang in the middle of April but it could have been high summer. Show a total sell out and excitement in the air. I was also excited, I had been quietly looking forward to these shows for a good couple of weeks as I knew it would be the very first time that I would be hearing Bob play songs from Modern Times. Stepped out of Wembley Park around 6.15. These days the steps from the station lead straight down onto Wembley Way and the new stadium is slap bang ahead of you, all part of the new design and renovations which have been going on for the last five years or so. Much better than before when you had to cross a nasty road more often than not bumper to bumper with aggressive London drivers.

By 6.30 I was in the new Wembley Square outside the arena. So warm, so very warm. I was just in a t-shirt. That was all I needed. The entrance to the Arena has been made to face the new stadium which means there is much less distance to walk and there is a pleasant space in front of the building for people to hang around and take in the atmosphere. Steps, trees and fountains brought out a carnival atmosphere as people sat around taking with each other in groups and drinking beer. Ice cold Fosters. Nice. Seeing the beer in the frosted plastic glasses kinda made my throat go dry and I knew that it would not be long before I headed inside to get one from one of the bars.


He's going where the southern crosses the yellow dog, yeah he's gonna get away from all those demagogues...there's a mean old twister bearing down on him...he's gonna have a whopping good time...but he aint talkin', just walkin'...

After the euphoria and sell out show on Sun night it was almost kinda inevitable that Mon was gonna be different, very different in fact. Kinda reminded me of the Mon show I saw Bob perform in Portsmouth back in 2000, nearly 7 years ago. There the show had a most definite sense of Mon about it and in a similar kinda way this Mon show at Wembley did as well. Bob tunes into it. He is a hard working man and he knows that it is the beginning of the week and that means low expectations. In this instance the show was harder, meaner and much more serious than Sun. It was also about 7 or 5 mins shorter. Maybe he was thinking the same kinda things I was...how nice it would be to just get back to bed.

Kinda noticed 2nd time around how fast the live versions of Levee's Gonna Break and Thunder on the Mountain are when compared to those recorded on Modern Times. Faster to the point of being almost punky. Bob thrashed his way through them, didn't care how rough they might have sounded. John Brown was the show stunner on Mon without any doubt, on Sun it had been Nettie Moore but on Mon it was John Brown. Seriously stunning to the point of making me wonder whether Bob had read the papers about the school massacre in Virginia that day. Not my thoughts I have to admit, but something I read from a review on Expecting Rain which listed the number of heavy, violent songs that Bob played in that set. Thought at the time it was preposterous but now it kinda makes a lot more sense. Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll was another. Serious and foreboding was Mon in a nutshell and it just goes to show that with Bob you should never assume that any two shows are ever gonna be the same.

Price I paid with Bobby this time was that by the time Tues came along I woke feeling absolutely knackered. Seriously shattered. Wasted. Yeah man, felt like my body was crumblin' in two, crumblin' into more than two in fact and the thing was I had to be up early that day to get down to Earls Court for the London Book Fair an' that meant a crowded tube ride on the Central to Holborn and then swinging down to Earls Court on the Piccadilly. Then once at the book fair a lot of walkin' round and talkin' to people. Gotta admit I took a lot of breaks, couple of times stopped for coffee and just to sit for a rest. Feelin' the pace that was no doubt about that.

Gettin' close to end of week now and energy is kinda low. Beginning of the week was extremely busy and the full impact of the schedule has taken a few days to filter through. Combination of that and the possibility I am not as fit as I should be. Let's see what it is I have been doing -

Sat - city trampin'
Sun - clearing loft of clutter, housework, going over to Wembley to see Bob Dylan
Mon - Wisdom Books all day, in the evening going over to Wembley to see Bob Dylan
Tues - London Book Fair all day at Earls Court
Wed - up in the loft most of the day putting down insulation and chipboard flooring. Began at around 9.30 and finished up at 7pm
Thurs - Wisdom Books all day, little bit of loft sorting in the early evening

Result of all that was that by Thurs nite I went up to bed feelin' completely an' utterly shattered.

Now Fri morn and I know I am gonna have to pace myself. Keeping things in good runnin' order means pacin', not taking on too much, being aware of your limitations.

Thoughts on the Dylan shows starting to fade a bit now.

Second show on the Mon with Carly I realised that now I was up to my 30th time seeing Bob there were certain aspects of the whole procedure I didn't have to get so excited about. I remember before in years gone by that when I caught the smell in my nostrils of the incense which is always lit behind the stage 10 mins or so before show time I would always experience a tremor of excitement in my belly. Wow, I would think, only a few more minutes and Bob is gonna be coming on stage and playin' there right in front of us. Well these days that particular ritual more or less passes me by in terms of the jumping up an' down in my seat factor. First sight of Bob walking on stage also raises a tremendous cheer from the crowd but here again I am not so likely these days to be standing there shouting at the top of my lungs. Really for the simple reason that I have done it all before, so many times. And yeah, just like Bob, a part of me probably feels like it is just another night.

Similarly when the main set ended on Mon me and Murty Carla took the opportunity to sit back down in our seats and have a five minute rest rather than remain on our pegs like the majority of the crowd who were shouting for more, for Bob and the boys to come back on stage to do an encore. Didn't even bother clapping in fact. In the past I would have clapped so hard it felt like my hands would fall off, shouting so much that I would have left my voice hoarse for a few hours afterwards. Now there was nuthin' approaching like that level of excitement. Seen it an' done it all before, many times.

In fact it was kinda nice just to let all those things roll past me, sit in the shadows and take it in as an observer. There is an illusion in participation. Ya think that somehow you are speaking directly to the artist and that somehow if you shout a little bit more or clap a little bit harder you are gonna be able to have some kind miraculous influence on the outcome. That your wildest dreams are gonna come true, and in this case you can think that because Bob is in touch with you he is somehow gonna anticipate ya deepest most heartfelt needs. All bollox of course. From my perspective these days it just don't work like that. Bob is an artist, Bob is a man but to put him up on high as some kinda saviour seeing your every move is dangerous, you are only gonna be settin' yourself up for a fall and dragging him down with you when ya see ya dreams just don't come true.

Pre-Bobby Dreamin'

Sun morn. Day of Dylan, big day therefore. Biggest thrill I've had recently is realising that I have in fact already seen Bob 28 times and not 27 as I had previously been thinking. That means these two upcoming Wembley shows will be the 29th and 30th times I see him. So that means that I have managed to dredge up from my memory banks a "lost" Dylan show. The one in question was from Cardiff 2004 which I have to say I had clearly completely forgotten about. Dunno why because it was rather a good one as I now recall. It happened a couple of days before the Fleadh in Finsbury Park which I went to with the Wizard and which had Ronnie Wood from the Stones as part of Bob's band in a one off special. Both shows are covered in the Dragons and Harpsichords cycle of writings within the Justifying the Star collection. Dunno what it was that made me remember the Cardiff show, or for that matter forget it in the place, but as I sat there thinkin' hard my conviction grew an' then I just felt better an' better I can tell ya.

Warm and sunny today. Gonna be another hot one that is for sure. That's the kind of deal we have to expect now with the weather and we are only just at the mid point of April. What else is there to come? Sizzlin' London! Did quite a bit of walking in town yesterday. City trampin' an' I gotta say I like it, I like it a lot. Wrote about trampin' in other posts and will continue to 'coz London is awesome for city trampin' there ain't no doubt about that, a true world city where ya can witness so many different landscapes within a couple of miles that ya head is burstin' with all the good stuff that comes from outta them.

Yesterday I jumped off the El Tubio at Bethnal Green and began walkin' in from there, taking a left out the station and straight down Bethnal Green High Rd with the towers of the City on the horizon, standing there in the mid-mornin' heat haze. April heat, hot enough to burn ya. Then I cut through the back streets and ended up on Brick Lane, an' all within 15 mins. Brick Lane on a Sat morn when the sun is shining is a good place to be, east meets west, before the crowds.

From Brick Lane it is a simple cut down Hanbury St across Commercial St and into Spitalfields which is undergoing some serious renovation and is soon gonna look truly amazing, already looking pretty good in fact. Been a few years since I was there, me and Tamdin used to go down quite often on a Sunday to do our shopping from the organic fruit and veg market but then we kinda fell out the habit. These days it looks better than it ever has and it is only gonna get bigger. Popped in to a little clothes shop located there called Tibet Dreams to say hello to Kungyen a Tibetan I know who works there. Had a tea with him and we shot the breeze for 30 mins or so, got the impression he was in the frame for some new kinda work to do. Both of us had been to Kathmandu this year already so we had chatted about that and what we did there. His folks live behind Boudnath Stupa on the north-east side of town. Refugess from Tibet, makin' do as best they can.

From Tibet Dreams I cut through some back streets to end up on Bishopsgate just opposite Liverpool St station. My destination was now Borough market on the south side of the river by London Bridge. Found a nice little cut through in between Spitalfields and Petticoat Lane which I will remember for future reference. Alleys and corners, hidden pathways that open onto new vistas. On Bishopsgate I cut through the gardens of St Botolphs and ended up on Old Broad Street now headin' directly towards the Stock Exchange.

When I got to the bottom of Old Broad Street I stopped to stare up in amazement at some construction work which was going on at the corner with Threadneedle Street. Awesome piece of engineering was taking place. Seeing what goes on in the City with the road and the buidlings at the w/ends is a never ending sourse of fascination to me and I like it, I like it a lot. It surprises me how people crowd out the galleries in the West End of town looking for art and inspiration when they could wander up an' down the deserted streets of the City an' see some truly spectacular works of art, acts of the imagination taking place right before their eyes. People just don't get it though and in a way I'm kinda glad they don't 'coz if they did then trampers like me would no longer have the place all to ourselves and the emptiness of the City at the w/ends is more than kinda wonderful I have to say.

After silently payin' the guys on the cranes my respects I then walked up Threadneedle Street and cut across Cornhill an' into the hidden gardens of St. Michaels on Cornhill. Then through the alleys and onto Gracechurch St where I was soon headin' down to the Monument and London Bridge. A twister of a route and an ace way to lose someone if ya is ever being chased by da mugga man in that part of town, which actually is pretty unlikely but there we go. Ya need ta go a coupla miles further east to live out that particular scenario.

All in a day's work to me but a maze and a considerable bit of figurin' on the old A-Z for those who don't know their way around this part o' da cityscape. On Gracechurch Street I had to stop in awe as a boiler system was being winched on to the roof a building. An enormous crane rigged up to do the business. Men in hard hats. They had closed half the street off and I joined the crowd, all of us craning our necks up into the fathomless blue sky to see the work in progress. Man. What a fella he can be on some occasions.

Across London Bridge and onto the south side, then a quick descent into the crowds of Borough Market one of the best food markets in town. Bought what I was looking for which was a piece of belly pork and a fresh pork pie, an' then after picking up a fresh falafel wrap I was back across the bridge and headin' again to the hidden gardens of Cornhill to eat my food and drink a bottle of Volvic. No point in hanging around. In an' out quick is how I like to do it. Sat there in the gardens in the midday sun on my own for 10 mins or so and then made my way back through the city and along the same way I had come in to return to Bethnal Green. Bingo. Tramp over.

All in all about three hours walking which was quite enough as due to the heat I was tired towards the end but more than happy, full of gratitude for being in a place where these things are possible to do, where so much is available to feast my eyes upon, to send my imagination spinnin' and to make me visualize crossin' my hands at my heart in silent reverence. Yeah man and just think, tonight within the limits of the same city I will be going up to see Bob Dylan for the 29th time in this life. Awesome, it just don't get better than that.

Friday 13th An' All That

Just a couple of days to go to Bob now. Bob Dylan we're talking about. Seeing him Sunday night and then Mon. First on my own and then for the second taking along Murty Carla. Reviews so far have been positive, in fact getting more positive as the shows go on, so fingers crossed the London shows are gonna be a pair of Bob Blinders. In fact, thinking about it, it is seven years since I last saw Bob at Wembley Arena, a show that was written about within the Jitterbug Dragster cycle of writings in the Justifying the Star collection of Bob pieces that I put together for the period 2000 - 2005. That was an eventful show, the one seven years ago in 2000, but not for reasons that you would easily guess or that I would particularly want to go back into at this point in time. Guess if I ever get it together to stick all that stuff on a blog it would then be available.

London Bob Dylan shows post millennium that I have attended have been two in London Docklands 2002, Hammersmith Apollo 2003, Fleadh Finsbury Park 2004 and three at the London Brixton Academy 2005. In that time Wembley Arena has supposed to have been done out and improved in line with the spanking new stadium that has been erected. This I will soon find out. It was a right old barn in the past that was for sure but if efforts have been made to make it less of cattle shed with shit acoustics then I am sure it will be for the better, if it is just a case of adding a couple more burger bars then it will be a bummer.

Sat morn. Weather kinda grey but they say it is gonna be warm today so I guess we'll just have to wait an' see what comes along. Friday night I was in bed by 10.45 pretty shattered, night before had slept badly. Woke up at something like 3.30 am and my eyes were wide open starin' into the dark. In the end I lay there doing breathing meditation to calm my roving mind as thoughts swirled about uncontrollably. The counting and the energy expended from the concentration finally put me to sleep after an hour or so but that didn't stop me from waking up feeling knackered yesterday. Never quite shook it off throughout the day so it was early night time especially since Tamdin was away and sometimes evenings on my own can drag on a bit if I aint got any particular thing to do and there aint nuthin' on the box.

Sleep last night was better but still not exactly sensational. Woke a few times but not till after 5 so at least I had already got a good six hours or so of rest under my belt. Half considered getting up at that time instead of just lying there, and getting into an early meditation session on the cushion but I just never made it. Slumbered an' snoozed instead or whatever you wanna call it...wasted a few precious hours. Slipped in and out of half dreams. Last one in which I was walking on a hot Indian plain trying to get somewhere but my feet kept sinking in the sand and then out of the blue a dirty great snake came from out of the ground and I had stand there as still and silent as a rock in order not to get bitten. Think these kinda snake dreams which come along from time to time are slightly improving for me, as before in those dreams I have completely freaked out and ended up trying to run a country mile, bag full of fear for me life, hoping like crazy that wasn't gonna get bitten.

Dylan plays Sheffield tonite, then tomorrow down to Wembley and London where I will be in attendance on Sunday for the first of my two shows. Sheffield. Done that one a couple of times before. Both with Murty Carla and both of which have been covered in various writing cycles within Justifying the Star. Up the motorway in the car then a late night return on both occasions, chewing buzz gum to stay awake behind the wheel. 2000 and 2003 if I remember rightly and I most certainly do. Monday of course I am going again with Murty Carla. I gave him a quick bell yesterday to make sure he was still up for it and also to quickly go over the time and place for our pre-show meet up so I can give him his ticket and we can shoot the breeze over a beer.

He was in the thick of it for a Friday when I called, and I think he was gonna be glad for the w/end. He mentioned it was Friday 13th which I had kinda forgotten about and when he reminded me it kinda spooked me I guess. Made me wanna lie low for the rest of the day as the last thing I wanted to do was incur the wrath of the gods. I went through the things that had already occurred and realised that, yeah, the gods and stars were kinda outta kilter and accidents could happen.

For Murty Carla the Fri 13th experience was that he had come into work that morning and been informed by one of his customers in Portugal that two tons of chemicals had not yet been delivered when Murty Carla thought they had got them months ago. Shippers fuck up in other words. Panic. On top of that it had been Murty Carla's colleague who had been dealing with the situation and he of course was now off for a couple of days. Always seemed to happen like that. Murty told me he had managed to trace the chemicals to Germany but then after that the trail got murky and they were probably somewhere in France. As luck would have it, Friday 13th style, the French coordinator was also off which meant Murty would have to wait till Monday to get more information on where the fuck the chemicals were and when they would get to the customer in Portugal. Big fear is of course that they have simply disappeared. Murty works for a small chemcial company run by a Dane called Klaus down in Caterham, Surrey. He has been with them for the best part of 10 years now and he holds a position of some responsibility which involves occasional trips to places like India and China, the new world heroes.

As for me I realised I had also had a few close shaves on the13th as well. In the morning at Wisdom Books the scales engineer had come to look at our scales in the warehouse which had fucked up after we had tried to insert a new postal chip. He ended up having to take them away with him which initially looked like bad news indeed, but by midday he was back again with the repaired scales. All for 200 quid which actually was not as bad as it could have been as we thought at one point we might have to get a new pair. Managed to avoid that situation.

In fact the scales going down led us to look at how long we had had them and I was kinda staggered to find out they had been with us for over 12 years. Incredible. When looked at like that then a couple hundred quid to get them sorted aint too bad at all 'coz apart from that little incident everything has been more or less boom tinker with them since day. The engineer gave them a good clean as well and told us that if we looked after them they should be fine for years. Yeah well, fingers crossed. Good one, but nearly could have been a bad one. The 13th jitters.

Then in the afternoon I had another close shave as I went to buy a transformer for a pill crusher which Tamdin had bought off an Amercian website. Incredibly hard to find are pill crushers believe me and this one of course comes with a three point US plug on a different voltage. Coupla weeks ago I found a place round da corner in Woodford that had a transformer that would fit the bill and went yesterday afternoon to buy it for a cool 50 quid. Took a bit of sorting out when I got there as it is not the kinda thang people buy from them everyday. Also got a special plug to stick the wires through from the cable that I had ta saw in 'alf an' I was so engrossed learning how the new plug worked from the geezer behind the counter that I walked straight out of the place without the transformer which was a dirty great bastard of a yellow box weighing not much less than a car battery.

It was not till about 45 mins later when I was in Ikea buying an ergonomic pillow for Tamdin that I thought to myself whether or not I had picked up the transformer. Then when I got back to the car realised I hadn't. No way Jose, it just wasnae there marra. Drove quickly back round the North Circ to the electric shop with worst case scenarios runnin' through my head; that I had took it out the store then put it on the ground beside the car and drove off without putting it in the boot of the Toyo. Has been known to happen.

As I hit the fast lane on the North Circ I just couldn't remember if I had done that which meant I had to break fast as I approached the speedos on the side o' da road. No worries though as when I walked through the doors of the electric shop the look on the face of the geezer behind the counter told me he knew what I was coming back for. He made a joke of it and told me I must have felt an inch high when I realised I had forgotten it, a fuckin' great thing like that. Yeah, funny joke that but I smiled my way through and then gratefully loaded the it into the back of the Toyo to get it safely home. So there ya go, a coupla of close shaves on Fri 13th. Both could have turned out a lot worse than in fact they did an' yeah mon I am full of thanks and praises that all was well as what happened.

Nevertheless after Murty Carla's Fri 13th observation I kept me 'ead down for the rest of the day and like I said turned in early, energy kinda low but my mind quietly buzzin' over the staggeration of it all in this crazy kinda life we're livin'.

On the Flats / In the City

Tue, cloudy morn but they say it is going to be warm today and it is going to stay this way for another week. Heatwave. Not yet mid-April. Gonna have to watch closely and see how things shake out. Not that watching will make any difference. In bed by 10 last night after a couple of days in Suffolk. The flatlands. We were by the coast and it was teeming with people. Used to live in that area 30 years ago in the mid-70s in a place called Beccles and I never remembered it being so busy as it was this weekend. Where have all these people come from? Must be that everyone has cars. Must be that everyone can afford the leisure these days as the rough work is carried out by people from Eastern Europe and places like that. So many people! Thousands and thousands of people. Kinda made me wonder where you would have to go in this country to be on your own these days. Probably would have to travel kinda far. Further than these shores that's for sure...

Couple of days in the flatlands. It was dry and sunny. Weather was good. Countryside looked kinda stunning I have to say. Tamdin and me and my parents. All staying at the Westleton Crown in the village of Westleton. It was on the folks. They booked and paid for the rooms. Mind you I ended up paying for one of the meals which came to a cool 150 quid. Ouch.

Slept badly both nights I was there. Both times woke up in the middle of the night and was staring into the dark, heart beatin' fast. Too much food, too much red wine and beer, too much easy livin'. It was kinda OK waking up there 'coz the place was quiet and dark. Lying there different kinda thoughts passed through my mind, thoughts I now can't necessarily remember but their quality was fine. Nuthin' too disturbing at least. First night I was awake long enough for the dark to slowly turn into light, accompanied by the birds singing. Must have dropped off of course as you always eventually do but I was still up by around 7.40. Walking the village before breakfast, with Tamdin and me poppa.

Aldeborough and Southwold. The two main places on the coast. We went to Aldeborough on the first day we were there. Full of people, the kind of place it might be better to go to in the middle of the week when the weather is grey and mysterious, and it is a lot more empty. You can walk along right by the sea. Shingle, pebbles and sea. All there is to it.

On the day we were there the sea was blue which is rare I think for the North Sea which usually specialises in a kind cold brown sludge. The sea was blue and calm and the visibility was good enough to allow you to see for miles and miles. Not much on the sea though. To the disappointment of my dad who loves looking at ships even if they are just hunks of steel full of containers.

Demographic in Aldeborough was decidedly white, decidedly English. So many of 'em. Makes me kind of think there must be ghost towns out back in the counties when so many people are at the seaside for the day. Fish and chips. Lots of fish and chips being eaten. Fish being gutted in little huts on the beach by the fishermen. Fresh fish to buy from them if you fancied it. Fish guts thrown on to the ground behind the cutting table where a gaggle of seagulls waited noisily to pounce. Tamdin was fascinated and later she told me she thought it was kinda primitive to witness. Guess it was. Reminded her of Tibetan sky burial. Fish guts. They certainly caused a stink. Blended into the fish and chips coming out of peoples paper bags as they unwrapped them on the sea wall and got stuck in. Fish chips and a can of Coke. The new language.

Next day we went to Southwold which was busier. Bigger and busier. It has a cliff and a sandy beach, so, different to Aldeborough which was simply flat beach and pebbles. Supposed to be an expensive place to live these days, Southwold, and you kinda of got the feeling walking round the place that the actual number of locals born and bred who lived there was most definitely very small. Outside money had bought it up. Cottages and little sea houses. Huts on the promenade with the usual names tacked onto them. Sea Breeze. Dolphins. If I had one I would have called it Fuck You. Guess those kinda thoughts belong to another life and they will never see the light of day in cold reality. Wood hut by the beach. Reading the paper. Trying to get my bit of sun, with thousands of people walking past me every hour. Fuck you.

Ended up in Southwold having a sandwich on the beach. Everywhere was full and in the end Tamdin used her genius to buy a loaf of wholemeal bread, fresh ham and organic salad from Somerfields in the centre of town, a store which had nearly been stripped bare. Made them up on the beach. The sandwiches. Far healthier and more memorable than just getting one of their foul looking prepacked efforts which were all coming up to their expiry dates. The ones that were left that is. Coronation chicken, big breakfast...urgh!!

Suffolk. To be honest it aint my favourite part of the world. Lived there for a couple of years back in the 70s, ended up getting bullied to shit at school and couldn't get out of there quick enough. Beccles, that was the town. Small town and even smaller people. Beccles and Bungay. Actually we went there this weekend, me, my folks and Tamdin, just for half an hour or so in the middle of the afternoon. Brought back a few memories but maybe not as many as I was expecting, or maybe they are still lurking in brain somewhere, waiting to crawl out in the middle of the night. Main thing about Beccles this time around was that it looked completely deserted...probably because it was Easter, but all the same I saw enough of the people who were hanging around the centre to know that cruelty there still existed. Oh yeah, aint no doubt about that.

Dusty sleepy Shittles where sex was a major occupation for most of the kids I knew when I was there 30 years ago, either real or fantasised, and no doubt it still is today. Probably more real now than imagined. We just went for a cup of tea which was pretty hard to find on an Easter Sunday afternoon in Shittles and eventually we had to get one from a pub. Pretty smelly boozer in the centre of town which no doubt on Friday and Saturday nights will be full of Shittles thugs. Pubs in Shittles are for serving beer, not tea and coffee that is for sure. Beers like Adnams and Tolly Cobold...local brews. Primitive farm labourer culture is what lies underneath. Shittles is on the river Waverely (the gateway to the Broads no less) and about 14 miles inland from the coast but feels like it is much further away from the fresh sea breezes than that. Good place to have in the Deep South of the US. Heat haze afternoons, nothing on the streets, old red brick buildings and curtains twitching.

Stood by the church overlooking the river. Place actually seemed much smaller than I remembered. Maybe the thing was that I was a lot smaller when I lived there so naturally the place seemed bigger back then. All those hours spent riding around on my bike. Down the dusty summer streets and through the fields. Playing in the summer evenings. Timeless yellow summer. '76. The long hot summer, I remember it well.

Flat yellow fields. Land of crops an' machinery and farm labourer nastiness. At the time I was there this w/end it didn't hit me so much but on reflection I now see that during our little visit Shittles managed to betray those tell tale signs to me that things had not much changed and that if you stood out in the wrong kind of way you might find yourself in trouble, just like I did 30 years ago, not much older than a nipper up from Plymouth. Fact was that as far as the natives went you had to be of them, and if you weren't then that was when the problems started. Big problems in terms of trying to avoid getting your face punched in.

Maybe it was just the look of the man I saw standing in the doorway of a shop in the empty town centre that gave it all away. Balding with a paunch but mean ferret eyes darting out of his head. That was all you needed to know. When he was younger he would have been a lot more dangerous, one of the ones who would have pounced on a little fresh faced sucker like me walking through the school gates. The sleepiness of the place was still intact but that was what was most deceptive about it then and still is now no doubt. Behind closed doors it wasn't sleepy at all.

Labourer cruelty. A town raised on the backs of farm labour, now long gone of course to the machines and to the Eastern Europeans. Best of luck to them. Back then workin' in the fields was something available to all in the summer months, even a punk like myself. I remember clearly spending days working in the fields picking strawberries, back breaking work aint no doubt about that. But then the sheer delight of having enough money to race back into town on my bike and buy records made it all worth it. Records from Norlings in the centre of town. God Save the Queen by the Pistols followed a few weeks later by Pretty Vacant the intro to which just completely and utterly did my fuckin' head in. Ultra magic. Sweet Johnny Rotten. Gone, but not forgotten.

So there we are. A snapshot in time, an untidy bundle of Shittles memories comin' outta me fuckin' head. Think I can say that as much as these things can be certain I will never go back to Shittles again. It took me 30 years to get there for my first re-visitation and that was enough for me to know that, just like Mars, as far as I am concerned there aint no life there. At least not life as I would call it. Sleepy, sleepy Shittles. It can piss off.

Back in London. City of my dreams, even though at times it drains me and makes me feel like cryin'. Thurs morn, weather bright. Busy day yesterday hosting a Tibetan lama, Akong Rinpoche, and Tibetan friends for lunch. Drove down to Elephant and Castle to pick up Rinpoche, at his new London centre just off the Walworth Road. Horrible roadworks on the Walworth nearly screwed up all my safely worked out plans to arrive spot on time. Yeah, nearly totally an' utterly screwed 'em.

Trouble was that the roadworks put me back a good 15 mins and then when I turned into Manor Place where the Buddhist centre was located there was no indication as to where exactly on the road it was. Absolutely no indication at all. Ended up driving around in circles, seriously horrible circles, and at one point I had to go the wrong way down a one way street or else I would have ended back on the dreaded stinkin' Walworth which was something I wanted to avoid at any cost. Scraped the underneath of my Toyo Avensis quite badly on a speed bump as well. Disgusting fuckin' sound it made that made me cringe.

Just didnt realise the bastard bump was there as I frantically drove around in a panic trying to find the centre was Rinpoche was waiting. Nothing worse than that I can tell ya. Not being able to find the place you are supposed to go to... In London it means pulling over and squinting at the A-Z and if your eyes aint great like mine aint then you are soon in trouble. Staggeringly 'orrible. Finally had to call the centre and a pleasant sounding nun stepped outside into the street so that I could spot her robes and so know where the place was. Saw her. Panic over. But it was a close call.

Later in the day had to drive Akong back through the City in order for him to get to a restaurant in Chinatown where he was due to have a meal with people before heading off to see Casino Royale somewhere in the West End. By the end of the day yesterday I was pretty shattered. Lots of driving in London, figuring out the best way to go here and there, sometimes not too good at it I have to admit, other times completely fuckin' spot on.

Coming back from town was much quicker than going in which was kinda strange because early evenin' time it shoulda been the other way round. Put on Bob's Modern Times and had it playing loud on the Toyo CD system. So good, so very very good. Amazingly didn't even get to the end of the album before I was home which meant that I made it from Shaftesbury Ave back to Woodford in under 50 mins. Pretty damn good, aint no doubt about that. Going in was a lot longer maybe an hour 15, an hour 20 or maybe not quite so long, maybe an hour 5, an hour 10.

Cut down Bethnal Green High Road going in but then made the mistake of slinging a left down Bishopsgate and ending up slap bang in the middle of the of the City, managed to keep cool and get along Poultry onto Holborn Viaduct and then Shaftesbury Ave that way. Always nervy when you are taking people somewhere they have to get to sharpish. Best thing about it though was that I was able to ask Akong Rinpoche questions about my meditation, told him exactly how far I thought I had got and what I was doing. He gave me good advice on the basis of the information I gave to him. Good sound advice and I hope I can build on that and get down to some sitting in the coming months. There has been too much of this and not enough meditation. Think I'll soon need to call a time out on all this bloggin' and get down to some serious sitting. Need to do it, want to do it.

Yeah, bloggin' it an' poddin' it. Too much of both. Just got back today for example and there was a CD waiting for me that I had ordered a coupla days from the Zon. A Wishbone Ash album from '79 - Just Testing. Good deal I have to say, only just over 6 quid and that was including the postage and the packing. Bought it after getting back into Argus their classic from '72. Both albums remastered of course, with bonus trax thrown in as well. The Ash, still going strong but known these days to hardly anyone. Well, in the 70s they were big for a while. Now they play pubs.

Sleep, Dylan and Golf

Fri morn. Good Friday. Nice sunny day, probably gonna be quite hot I reckon. Slept kinda late today 'coz I was late going to bed last nite. Had to pick up Tamdin from Blackhorse Road at half past midnight and that meant by the time we got back and settled down to sleep it must have been 1.30. Kinda feelin' dazed from it but OK. Now it has just gone 9.

In days gone I don't think I would have learned the lesson of required rest quite so well and I would have got up an hour or two earlier even if I was feeling shattered. Just because I would have been unwilling to break my routine of getting up at a certain time each day. Inflexible. Now I think I know that if I don't stay long enough in the sack when I feel tired I am only going to suffer for it later on. Suffer badly, as in my body feelin' like a crumpled crisp packet. Lessons of life; learn what your limitations are. Be aware of your limits. Aint no point in rushin' out the blocks if you're just gonna come to a grindin' halt later on in the day. Be happy with what you can do. So today that meant resting long enough to know that when I got up I would not be feelin' absolutely knackered a couple of hours further down the line. So I finally made it downstairs by 8.30 where I did the usual things I do every morning; tidy up a bit from the night before, put the coffee on and fill the water jug for the water bowl offerings.

Gotta say I'm kinda getting excited about seeing Bob Dylan next week. I've written pretty extensively about Bob in the past and there is a strong possibility I will be posting some extended posts in the next coupla weeks, reviewing the two London shows that I will be attending in just over one week's time. You know, the two shows I went to last year didn't really fire me up in the way that Bob shows have in the past but I am now looking to seeing him again.

Bob's 2007 European tour began last week in Stockholm and since then I have been checking out the set lists online each day along with the reviews from fans who have attended the shows. All been positive so far. Big difference between this year and last of course is the fact his first album for five years, Modern Times, came out in September 2006. What people are enjoying now is the first real incorporation of songs from that album into the set list. When I saw him last June in Cardiff and Bournemouth we were really reaching the end of the Love and Theft cycle of songs and touring which had been in place since late 2001. In many ways I questioned just why the hell Bob was even bothering coming over to Europe to tour at that point in time. It was all old material he was playing and although there were interesting parts to the sets it was mainly going over extremely well trodden ground both for Bob, the band and the vast majority of the audience.

Things have changed now however and I will be surprised if we don't get at least five Modern Times songs on each night that I see him next week. Great. The back end of the main set is looking particularly promising and it could well go something like this on at least one of the evenings -

Highway 61 Revisited
Spirit on the Water
Desolation Row
Rollin' and Tumblin'
Nettie Moore
Summer Days
Like a Rolling Stone

Well, if Bob is burnin' that would be kinda fantastic I tell ya.

Bob is the best live performer I have ever seen. Period. He is the ultimate shape shifter. So many different kind of projections are placed upon him from so many different people that at times he is transformed into an indefinable energy field. Inexplicable yes, but an awesome sight. So yeah Bob has pretty much rolled onto on the edge of the horizon now and the fires in me are slowly beginning to tick over. It will be the 28th and 29th times I will have got to see him since first getting into him back in 1992. 15 years ago now. Well how about that! As far as Dylan goes that is actually quite late in the day for arriving on the scene considering people have been seeing him as far back as 1962, 30 previous to when I started. If ya get the chance, see him. Don't even ask, just go.

First night, Sunday 15th, I will be going on my own. Think I'll hit the City in the afternoon for a bit of trampin' before getting the tube up to Wembley late afternoon and taking in the atmosphere. On Monday 16th I am going with Carly Murtagh an old friend of mine who I haven't seen since the summer when he took me to see Ron Sexsmith. Me an' Carly Boy have a bit of history as far as Bob is concerned. We first saw him together back in '93 at the Fleadh in Finsbury Park. Since that we have seen him in Brixton, twice in Sheffield, Stirling, Wembley, and London Docklands.

Think the last time we went to a Bob together was Sheffield in 2003. The night before the traumatic experience of taking Tamdin to see Bob in Birmingham when virtually every possible thing went wrong. I wrote about that nightmare experience in the Three Bob Shows cycle of writings from Justifying the Star. Maybe one day I will post all that old shit onto Ghost Eternal. Or maybe even create a separate Bob blog just for stuff like that. Yeah, good one. I'll think abut that one. Could be a neat idea. But then again, maybe not...

So anyway, originally I was gonna take Tamdin on the Monday but she has kinda indicated by way of saying nah nah nah that she don't really wanna go so there aint no point in forcing someone to see Bobby if they don't really wanna. She has never really recovered from the Brum experience and I have to admit it is something that I still look back on with more than a little degree of shame an' 'orror. Yeah well, that is just the way the deck shakes sometimes and there aint really that much that ya can do about it...Day after Mon 16th just happens to be my birthday, April 17th. This year I'm forty fuckin' five so I will be beginning my 46th year of trampin' along the pathways of this wonderful revolving planet. Going this way an' that. Sipping nectar by the lake of happiness one minute, stuck in the valley of pain the next, all part of the game. Highs and lows, the good and the bad. Just keep it even, that is the trick. Oh yeah...Bob Dylan! What a lucky geezer I am to have gotten into him. Will always think that...

So- this and that today before heading up to Suffolk on Sat. Couple of days with my folks. Hope they behave themselves. Hope we do too.

Ended up watching an hour or so of golf last night on TV. The Masters. Wouldn't have normally watched something like that but the fact of the matter was that I had to hang around late evenin' for the call from Tamdin to go an pick her up. Beautiful green landscapes of Augusta. It was relaxing, watching all these people out in Georgia. Such a beautiful beautiful golf course. People. Competitors; golfers and spectators, the golfing fans. Never really been into golf myself apart from a couple of times when I went down to what was little more than an extended pitch and putt kinda thing about 10 years ago in the Lea Valley between Walthamstow and Hackney. You could say I aint a golf club man...

Needless to say golf is immensely popular. A sport, a pass time, a life style all in itself. People are mad for it. Mainly men judging by the demographic on the screen last night but plenty of women too. Always kind of looked down on it myself, sitting there wonderin' just why the hell people would spend so much time and money trying to hit a little white ball into holes over the course of a couple of hours. But that is clearly just ignorance on my part. There is a whole history, a whole culture to the game that I know absolutely nothing about. Heroes and villains who have walked it's pages through the years, known to so many...

It is also quite clear after watching these guys last might that they possess a tremendous range of skills as some of the shots they pulled off looked quite frankly impossible. TV coverage is so damn good these days. The way the BBC presented it was educational. Action and history blended together. Nice. Jocks in front of the camera indicating just how fast the greens run and stuff like that. Made you realise just how difficult something as seemingly simple as a putt really can be.

Seeing these guys going round the course allowed me a tiny little insight into the kind of lives they lead. The circuit, the clothes, the air brushed attitude to life. Some players are naturals and they probably don't have to practice as much as others. Some are just awesome. Tiger Woods. Many probably have to practice day in and day out. In fact, thinking about it, I guess that all of them probably have to work like stink to get in shape for a competition like this one if they wanna do well. Lack of preparation will most definitely show, unless you strike a lucky patch. Not as easy as it might appear. All of these guys who have made it to play in the Masters are as far as their own little ponds are concerned very big fish indeed; way, way, way better than anyone else in the places from whence they came.

The spectators clearly take it seriously as well. Extremely seriously. There are people out there who have no doubt been planning for this event for many months. Going over the finer details of getting there, booking vacation time, booking accommodation. Coming in from all over the country, all over the world in fact. Talking to and meeting up with old friends who have seen and done it many times before. Sharing their insight into the performances they witness. Picking up on particular things they see which the might completely pass by the untrained eye. Wonderful. Best of luck to them. Golf. Probably saved a lot of people from the wilderness, so I aint gonna knock it from now on, 'coz millions out there will now if they ever get to hear what I say that I just dunno what I'm talking about, so I aint. Talkin'.

Livin' the Life, Working Thru'

Tues morn. Kinda cloudy now after a few days sun. Precious sun. Guess I won't be saying that by the summer though when I'm sittin' here thinking the world is breakin' up 'coz it's so damn hot. Always a rush in the morning to get down and be able to write something on here. Simple solution would be just to get up that little bit earlier. Simple indeed. It would solve a lot of problems but I just don't ever seem to be able to get it together.

Morning rituals have to obeyed, albeit in a rather sleep befuddled and mindless manner. Better by far would be to follow a Zen like calling to the mornings - I sleep, I wake, I rise. Yeah, end of story. Instead with me I sleep and then when I wake I struggle to keep hold of the warmth and comfort of the bed before finally kicking myself out of it at just gone seven. Every day. Same deal every day. Never much later than seven but never much earlier as well.

Today for example I actually woke at 6.30, went for a piss and then crawled back into the sack again. No meditation for me. Might have been a helluva lot healthier just to have stayed on my feet from that point on and did something. No chance. There was never even any debate about it. Consequently the morning then became a bit rushed half an hour later when I finally did get up. Got up washed my face and rinsed my hair. Things that I have done every morning for years and years. Then got dressed.

Came downstairs to fill the water jug for the water bowl offerings. Cleaned things up a bit in the kitchen and lounge and then put the coffee on. We have a filter machine so it needs loading up both for me and for Tamdin whenever she descends. After that is done I go back upstairs with the water jug and into the shrine room to make water bowl offerings and light some incense. Say a few Buddhist prayers at the time of doing this, brief Buddhist prayers, nuthin' too demanding. Ritual. Almost empty ritual at times. Empty in the sense that it is done out of habit rather than concentrated awareness of there being any greater meaning to it. Best thing to say about it is at least I do it. Day in day out, without fail. But that is really as far as it goes. Could do better. Could pray a bit harder, close my eyes a bit tighter so to speak, and search a bit harder for the spark.

From there it is back downstairs again and onto making my sandwich for lunch at work. Since I have been in the habit for quite a while now of making my own bread thanks to our Panasonic bread maker there is usually fresh bread to hand to get things started. Sandwich is usually a cheese one. Sometimes with a bit of salad like a couple of leaves of lettuce, sometimes with pickle and sometimes plain. Plain is better when the bread is fresh and crispy. The bread is nearly always crumbly which means loads of crumbs go everywhere when I cut it so there is always a mad few seconds wiping away the work surface after the sandwich is done.

With that out the way it is onto breakfast and for quite a while now breakfast has been toast and coffee. Again bread needs to be cut, this time toasted and stuff also needs to be found to spread on it. Usually honey or Marmite, sometimes both. All this takes a few minutes of course and it is at this point that I usually look at the clock and realise that I aint got as much time as I had hoped. Gonna be difficult in other words to sit here like I am doing now and actually write a few things down. Instead my head is filled with a nagging feeling of having blown it again. Up too late, took too long, no chance to sit down and write my words of wisdom.

Hard not to feel bad about having let my time get taken with stuff that don't lead anywhere... but then again it is important to stay healthy in body and mind and in regard to that I know that when lunch time comes along I will appreciate being able to bite into my nice fresh home made sandwich. Aint no doubt about that, sometimes it tastes good enough to leave me sittin' there at my desk grinnin' like a Cheshire cat. It will also save me a trip down Ilford High Road past the hoodies and kids with fookin' attitude mon before divin' past the chuggers and into M & S for one of their nice if predictable efforts which always cost a couple of quid when all is said an' done.

This morning the reason why I have found enough time to get some stuff written down is because I can leave for work a few minutes later 'coz it is nearly Easter time and the kids are on holiday. Main effect this has on me is that the roads between Ilford and Woodford are a hell of a lot clearer since all the sacks of shit taking their darlings to school in their 4x4s are off the roads and already on their planes goin' to wherever it is they go so that they can come back and tell everyone they have had a really spiffin' Easter. Means I can whizz round to Wisdom in under 20 mins.

Middle of the day. Just wolfed down my sandwich in the office. Grey and cold outside. Stressful morning at work. A new chip arrived for the postal scales and it promptly fucked the whole kaboodle up when we tried to install it. Now means the scales are out of fuckin' action and unless the replacement chip which is now in the mail works we will be facing a call out charge from the scales people in order to get them fixed. A right mugga truckin' nightmare of a situation. Kind of thing that leaves me feelin' gutted, because a couple of weeks ago I declined the company's offer to take out comprehensive cover on the scales for this year. Now they have gone and fucked up and we are doubtless going to end up paying an arm and a fuckin' leg if we want to get them sorted. Mug. Makes me think dark things like they deliberately sent out chips to fuck up the machines in order to get calls for maintenance from those who don't have cover, where they know they can bag up good and proper...possible ya never know in this crazy money obsessed world we live in. Makes me sick, sick, fucking sick as a dog, a barky barky woof woof.

The fuck up with the postal chip has been the main thing that has happened at work today, along with the usual stresses and strains of course. Kinda feel like a sucker sometimes... living and workin' my way thru' this kinda life. Trying to keep a lid on things when stuff comes along like today and irritates the fuck outta me. All this grief for what? Not as if we make millions and we're on our way to be like Alan Sugar or anything like that. Always some fucking thing on the horizon which comes along to fuck things up as far as Wisdom Books is concerned. Never, never get to the point of breaking free. Nature of it I guess. Small business, small fish. Barley a blip on any kinda scale. Insignificant. Totally. Not to be missed by many if we suddenly go under. Look at us... working, getting stressed, rolling home exhausted and feeling bad when we have shown our irritation to others. Gotta be something better.

Evenin' now. Tough day. No way can you come out of the office without feelin' tired after a day like today. Just the two of us in the office and all kinds of shit going down around us. Too much. Too few people who have to do too much on days like today. All it takes is a few things to go belly up and the whole thing seems fucked. That was how it was today anyway. Dunno if I enjoy this. Well I do know in fact that I don't enjoy it when it is like this. All part of the process no doubt. What else is there to say about it? These are the times when I feel that I gotta get out and onto something better. But how? Now I'm in my middle 40s and time is pressin' on...it aint gonna get any easier that is for sure.

Wed now. Fine day. Will have to do half a day at Wisdom 'coz we got stock issues that need to be sorted out before the Easter break. Well, whether we will be able to sort them or not is another matter but we'll see. Sleep OK. Woke up a few times and I think it was because of Tamdin snoring. In and out of sleep. Strange sleep.

Had a half bottle of white wine last night and I have come to the conclusion that I far prefer red to the white stuff. Red is more wholesome, warmer, heartier... Leaves me with a glow. White gives you a buzz, an accelerated buzz because you tend to drink it quickly because it is cold, but I think it also comes with a sting in the tail. Tends to catch up with ya later in the evening and leave ya almost crashed. In and out. Dozing then snapping out of it then dozing off again. Dunno if I like that. Red wine is more consistent. Mainly 'coz you have to drink it slower so the effect is more measured. More the way it is supposed to be. The white stuff in screw caps and well chilled speaks to me of too much manipulation, too desperate to give people a good time and then as the payback get them hooked. From now it will only be the red stuff for me unless it is a really stinkin' hot one and there aint no beer in the fridge...

The postal chip scenario yesterday morning knocked me for six. Six of the worst. So depressing to find myself so full of anger and irritation over such a little thing when surrounded by so much stuff on Buddhism. Only it aint little at the time no matter how I try to spin it. Make it so big I begin to fear that the whole operation is gonna come crashing down around us, leavin' us bust. Are we really that fragile? Just unable to rise above it all and see things from any kind of elevated perspective which at the moment is what is needed. Enuff.

Thus morn an' it's a bright one. Come to the conclusion that I dunno if I like these kinda days or not weather wise. Early Spring promise for sure, but along with promises come threats. Dunno what kind, will have to see. A burnin' summer maybe. But then again when it really gets goin' I have to say I rather like the heat, like it a lot. Work today then a four day break. Easter. Still gutted about the postal chip fuckin' up our weighing scales. This a mere couple of weeks after I declined the offer of taking out comprehensive insurance cover on them. Just dunno if it is the machine at fault or the clumsy way in which Grant, one of our packers, tried to put the new chip in. Just dunno. Very difficult not to show my intense irritation. That I do know.

Red mist fallin' down..standing in amongst all the junk and clutter of the packing bench and having to hold back the urge to punch the living daylights out of Grunty Boy for not fucking well paying attention to the instructions when he tried to put the replacement chip in. Just didn't do what he was supposed to do I'm sure of that, but it is impossible to prove it so we just have to live with it. Bite the bullet, and say goodbye to another couple of hundred quid that is going to be going out the window to get the scales repaired. Gutted. Sick as a dog, as a bow, a barky barky woof woof... Like being kicked in the knackers. All those things an' more. Aint no way back from it now, aint nuthin' to do that can retrieve the situation.

Alternative to getting the engineer in is to buy new scales but if we buy new scales they aint gonna be as good as the ones we have so it might be better just to get these ones repaired. Decisions, decisions. Executive decisions. These are the kinda ones I get to make, nuthin' more than that. No big deal in the final scheme of things...even though they seem a pretty big deal at the time. And the time for this one is now. Just coming at the wrong time, when we need to save as much as we can due to the fact that we are having to fund expensive and extensive boiler replacement works which in the long term we are probably not going to even see the benefit of. Yeah, written all about the boiler in previous posts...

What pain. My frowning face. My anger and irritation of knowing there aint nuthin' I can do about the situation. So I just have to stand there and take it. Be as polite as I can under the circumstances whilst feeling crushed inside by whole dirty doggin' deal. Sign the mugga truckin' cheque and then move on, crossing my fingers a little bit tighter that when the next thing comes down the tube to test me, it won't break me.