Well, I ask my kids often enough, don't you? The answer is usually 'not much', or 'usual'. Though from teenage son, the response is more of a grunt than a word. I'm amazed how 'I don't know' has transformed from clear, audible words to something musical almost - to 'Iuno' with an accompanying shoulder shrug that tells it all.
But the amazing versatility of this response! Have you tidied your room? Iuno. Have you any homework? Iuno. Is that an elephant about to tread on your mobile phone? Iuno.
The joys of communicating with the young! I think I will have to learn txt spk. Then I cn tlk to thm in thr own lnguge. Or then again - maybe not. 1984! It's here - a few decades late indeed - but Newspeak is now common parlance over messenger services and mobile phones. And there's Big Brother as well - so perhaps all early science fiction was not indeed fiction but just time travel. I remember reading a 1957 book that had Texas as the last preserve of masculinity, the whole world ruled by women, and the opening paragraph stating 'It was ever since the UK had a woman prime minister in the 1980s' or something of the sort.
And they say that 60% of today's 10 year olds will be doing jobs as adults that we haven't even invented yet. So what will they say to their kids at the end of the day?
"Hv a nc dy lol?"
...
...
...
"Iuno."
Ah - maybe a little cynical - surely the written word will thrive in this world of blogs and on-line publishing rather than be degraded by abbreviations and contractions. But who knows! By the time my children are grandparents, they'll probably be 'reading' stories through a brain implant that is fully accompanies by image and sound.
"Did you enjoy that one?" as the braincast finishes and the family unclick and use verbal communication, by way of novelty.
"Iuno"
Monday, July 31, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Pirates!
If you've read any of my other blogs about recent gigs, you'll have noticed they have had a slightly bizarre twist. Well, this Saturday was no exception.
The first issue was that for the first time we were just a three piece - no melody instrument. Me on bass, P on guitar and singing, Baz on drums. OK, no worries, we'd get there - just all have to sing a lot more.
P relies on me to provide the set list - I have a big book and a list, and I yell things out and we pick a key and do them. This year I chose, at about the fourth number in, 'The Pirate Song'. I had heard (from P's children) that this was a good song, but P had always refused to sing it. No escape this time!
She lined up some willing volunteers in front of the stage (participation number folks) and then started to sing what turned out to be a song for the under fives. In other words, at this Medieval Fair, it was perfectly pitched! They did the actions, sang the song and loved it.
Baz squeaked at me 'Never again!!!' Shut up and hit those drums man. I'm busy slipping sweatily up and down the neck of my stand up bass and if I'm lucky I'll hit a decent note soon.
P was exhausted having worked all day at the show running some kind of on-site facilities (she told me she was not on toilet duty, which was a relief... har har). But she sang beautifully as usual, and the gig was going fine. The stallholders were getting rowdy (they say they drink mead because they like it - I'm not so sure). They were still in costume and probably getting more medieval by the minute (it was HOT and natural wool fabric hose can get pretty warm I'm sure).
Then - as darkness gently fell across the fenland airfield, and our open sided marquee filled with mildly inebriated knights, monks and maidens, the pirates arrived. About six or seven, in full pirate gear. One waved his pair of muskets at us yelling 'SING US THE PIRATE SONG...' having been told he'd missed it. But no way - it was now far too late (in so many ways).
So picture this - three of us on stage, about 50 tired and slightly drunk East Anglians, Stall Holders, Medieval Re-enactors and a bunch of Pirates. Oh yes, and one bright green leprechaun with orange hair.
As the night ran on we played on - singing everything from traditional folk songs, Ps own material, to Jimmy Cliff and Elvis. I kind of went a bit mad when it came to Blue Suede Shoes - Baz looked at me in amazement having never heard my (usually soft and very folksy) voice belting out a raucous and rough Rock'n'Roller. Ah - what he doesn't know about me - that's a whole other blog!
Then one of the monks (yes, there was more than one) decided to climb the tent pole. 20 foot up, and he clambered up agile as a ship's monkey (aharrr me hearties). Not to be outdone, another chap climbed up the opposite pole, and at the top detatched his wooden leg. Now he SHOULD have been dressed as a pirate (but wasn't).
The great relief for us was that tonight we could stop at 11 because our medieval music pals, Schelmish, were booked to play after us. So, following slightly jazzy folk/rock/whoknowswhat us, was this bunch of 8 large (well mostly) very noisy Germans. They are terrific - http://www.schelmish.de/ - run around half naked, dressed in leather with the most ludicrous shoes, playing enormous bagpipes and many, many noisy percussion things. They were great! We had fun watching them as well as playing.
I was very brave and asked one pirate (in the most amazing full length leather frock coat, with tricorn and some rather strange looking false fangs - not quite sure if pirates were vampires or not but at that stage I didn't really care): "Why Pirates?"
His answer was simple: "Because Pirates are cool." Turns out he bought the coat at a German Gamers Convention for about 160 Euros. I kind of wandered off then, not just because of his wife and very large Wolf Hound, but because I was worried he'd start to tell me all about the Gaming....
But for me the evening was over, and once I'd collected my share of filthy lucre (paid in English Pounds, not Pieces of Eight alas) I donned my rather daft black leather hat (only to fit in you understand, only to fit in), and tootled home.
On my return B told me of his gig somewhere near Southampton. It had gone well but the event had put two stages back to back so whilst his acoustic quartet played lovely music, they were overwhelmed by the backwash of recorded music played very loud whilst colourfully dressed youngsters gave their interpretation of 'Riverdance'.
I still think I win on the weird gig stakes though. Bet there weren't any Pirates at HIS gig.
The first issue was that for the first time we were just a three piece - no melody instrument. Me on bass, P on guitar and singing, Baz on drums. OK, no worries, we'd get there - just all have to sing a lot more.
P relies on me to provide the set list - I have a big book and a list, and I yell things out and we pick a key and do them. This year I chose, at about the fourth number in, 'The Pirate Song'. I had heard (from P's children) that this was a good song, but P had always refused to sing it. No escape this time!
She lined up some willing volunteers in front of the stage (participation number folks) and then started to sing what turned out to be a song for the under fives. In other words, at this Medieval Fair, it was perfectly pitched! They did the actions, sang the song and loved it.
Baz squeaked at me 'Never again!!!' Shut up and hit those drums man. I'm busy slipping sweatily up and down the neck of my stand up bass and if I'm lucky I'll hit a decent note soon.
P was exhausted having worked all day at the show running some kind of on-site facilities (she told me she was not on toilet duty, which was a relief... har har). But she sang beautifully as usual, and the gig was going fine. The stallholders were getting rowdy (they say they drink mead because they like it - I'm not so sure). They were still in costume and probably getting more medieval by the minute (it was HOT and natural wool fabric hose can get pretty warm I'm sure).
Then - as darkness gently fell across the fenland airfield, and our open sided marquee filled with mildly inebriated knights, monks and maidens, the pirates arrived. About six or seven, in full pirate gear. One waved his pair of muskets at us yelling 'SING US THE PIRATE SONG...' having been told he'd missed it. But no way - it was now far too late (in so many ways).
So picture this - three of us on stage, about 50 tired and slightly drunk East Anglians, Stall Holders, Medieval Re-enactors and a bunch of Pirates. Oh yes, and one bright green leprechaun with orange hair.
As the night ran on we played on - singing everything from traditional folk songs, Ps own material, to Jimmy Cliff and Elvis. I kind of went a bit mad when it came to Blue Suede Shoes - Baz looked at me in amazement having never heard my (usually soft and very folksy) voice belting out a raucous and rough Rock'n'Roller. Ah - what he doesn't know about me - that's a whole other blog!
Then one of the monks (yes, there was more than one) decided to climb the tent pole. 20 foot up, and he clambered up agile as a ship's monkey (aharrr me hearties). Not to be outdone, another chap climbed up the opposite pole, and at the top detatched his wooden leg. Now he SHOULD have been dressed as a pirate (but wasn't).
The great relief for us was that tonight we could stop at 11 because our medieval music pals, Schelmish, were booked to play after us. So, following slightly jazzy folk/rock/whoknowswhat us, was this bunch of 8 large (well mostly) very noisy Germans. They are terrific - http://www.schelmish.de/ - run around half naked, dressed in leather with the most ludicrous shoes, playing enormous bagpipes and many, many noisy percussion things. They were great! We had fun watching them as well as playing.
I was very brave and asked one pirate (in the most amazing full length leather frock coat, with tricorn and some rather strange looking false fangs - not quite sure if pirates were vampires or not but at that stage I didn't really care): "Why Pirates?"
His answer was simple: "Because Pirates are cool." Turns out he bought the coat at a German Gamers Convention for about 160 Euros. I kind of wandered off then, not just because of his wife and very large Wolf Hound, but because I was worried he'd start to tell me all about the Gaming....
But for me the evening was over, and once I'd collected my share of filthy lucre (paid in English Pounds, not Pieces of Eight alas) I donned my rather daft black leather hat (only to fit in you understand, only to fit in), and tootled home.
On my return B told me of his gig somewhere near Southampton. It had gone well but the event had put two stages back to back so whilst his acoustic quartet played lovely music, they were overwhelmed by the backwash of recorded music played very loud whilst colourfully dressed youngsters gave their interpretation of 'Riverdance'.
I still think I win on the weird gig stakes though. Bet there weren't any Pirates at HIS gig.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Another mad gig
Picture the perfect English village on a beautiful summer's day. The green, opposite the pub, is filled with happy laughing people as the Villlage Fun Day enters full swing. And this afternoon's entertainment will feature a barn dance - on the village green. This is where the village idly dissipates.
We set up whilst a blues player twanged the afternoon away, and once all was plugged in and Mr Punch had finished demonstrating wanton puppet violence, we were ready to go!
But, of course, our audience was spread over a field. At one end, a football match, next to us a bouncy castle, ahead of us (some way off) the steps up to the pub. And scattered around was the audience. Ready to Dance?!! No way. They were ready to drink and probably to snooze. In the three and a half hours we played our caller managed to get enough people together for just three dances. All of which were a complete shambles - I've never seen such bad dancing!!
We sang songs, played a few tunes - made the afternoon pass. But one chap did want to dance. There we were in the midst of the Suffolk countryside and this man, in his shorts with his baseball cap on, spoke pure Estuary. He was a little drunk and decided that he and the children should have a dance competition.
I have played to some odd sights - three men, two goats and an inflatable doll, even to strippers (see previous posts), but this is the first time I've seen a grown man in competition with 8 year old girls by doing headstands and trying to 'teach 'em rock'n roll' (to the sound of a country dance band).
Ah roll on winter - when the audience are trapped in the hall and can't wander off.
We set up whilst a blues player twanged the afternoon away, and once all was plugged in and Mr Punch had finished demonstrating wanton puppet violence, we were ready to go!
But, of course, our audience was spread over a field. At one end, a football match, next to us a bouncy castle, ahead of us (some way off) the steps up to the pub. And scattered around was the audience. Ready to Dance?!! No way. They were ready to drink and probably to snooze. In the three and a half hours we played our caller managed to get enough people together for just three dances. All of which were a complete shambles - I've never seen such bad dancing!!
We sang songs, played a few tunes - made the afternoon pass. But one chap did want to dance. There we were in the midst of the Suffolk countryside and this man, in his shorts with his baseball cap on, spoke pure Estuary. He was a little drunk and decided that he and the children should have a dance competition.
I have played to some odd sights - three men, two goats and an inflatable doll, even to strippers (see previous posts), but this is the first time I've seen a grown man in competition with 8 year old girls by doing headstands and trying to 'teach 'em rock'n roll' (to the sound of a country dance band).
Ah roll on winter - when the audience are trapped in the hall and can't wander off.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
My take on the universe
I was sitting on the bog today, letting my mind wander whilst other things happened, and sort of organised my own view of the universe. Just for me. So I understand it - so it makes sense to me.
I'm not a religious person, but very tolerant. If you believe in a God/Gods, then they exist for you. I won't argue. I won't share your belief, but I can't decry it.
So how does this link in with the universe? Well - kind of energy is what I'm thinking. Take faith healers - they believe that with the power of God they can make people well. And it works sometimes too - amazing, extraordinary, unexplainable (through scientific logic that is). And Chinese healers using Chi, and Reiki, and so many strange and wonderful healing, therapeutic and beneficial practices that have a result we can't explain. Do we need to explain them? If the faith healer and the reike practioner are getting great results, they are doing something. They are tapping into an energy or force or whatever you like to call it (watch out Luke Skywalker!) and using it for beneficial results. So there is something there that they access, even though we don't know or understand how.
Some people use crystals for healing, or herbs, or dowse, or pray or even use hypnosis. All of these have one thing in common - the belief of the practitioner. There is belief because there are results. Despite scientific and clinical tests, somewhere along the line there are people who benefit from 'alternative' therapies.
Going back to my energy theory, this links in with religions of all kinds. God - one big energy created the world. Many gods - pagan, Hindu, whichever religion you choose - they could all be different energies. Some people worship or find deity in the simplest of things - perhaps what they are recognising is its innate energy.
I don't know - this is a very undeveloped theory at the moment, and someone somewhere else has probably refined it wonderfully. But it makes sense to me.
I'm not a religious person, but very tolerant. If you believe in a God/Gods, then they exist for you. I won't argue. I won't share your belief, but I can't decry it.
So how does this link in with the universe? Well - kind of energy is what I'm thinking. Take faith healers - they believe that with the power of God they can make people well. And it works sometimes too - amazing, extraordinary, unexplainable (through scientific logic that is). And Chinese healers using Chi, and Reiki, and so many strange and wonderful healing, therapeutic and beneficial practices that have a result we can't explain. Do we need to explain them? If the faith healer and the reike practioner are getting great results, they are doing something. They are tapping into an energy or force or whatever you like to call it (watch out Luke Skywalker!) and using it for beneficial results. So there is something there that they access, even though we don't know or understand how.
Some people use crystals for healing, or herbs, or dowse, or pray or even use hypnosis. All of these have one thing in common - the belief of the practitioner. There is belief because there are results. Despite scientific and clinical tests, somewhere along the line there are people who benefit from 'alternative' therapies.
Going back to my energy theory, this links in with religions of all kinds. God - one big energy created the world. Many gods - pagan, Hindu, whichever religion you choose - they could all be different energies. Some people worship or find deity in the simplest of things - perhaps what they are recognising is its innate energy.
I don't know - this is a very undeveloped theory at the moment, and someone somewhere else has probably refined it wonderfully. But it makes sense to me.
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