Tuesday, 19 July 2011

I can hear music…

I have a very eclectic taste in music. This means that I have a music collection that contains albums from the likes of Black Sabbath to operettas by Gilbert and Sullivan. Now, most people I know generally stick to a relatively narrow range of musical styles, some like punk, i have a friend who is seriously into ska, each to their own i suppose.

I have my favourites and this changes depending on my mood or the time of day. My all time favourites are The Moody Blues, Pink Floyd, Joe Bonamassa and now Caro Emerald.


I have a tendency to buy albums based on hearing one track from it on the radio, or the artwork on the cover. This has led to me buying some real crap, but also some real crackers. I read a series of books by a woman called Rachel Caine, and at the back of one of them, in the credits and acknowledgements, she stated that she was inspired by listening to Joe Bonamassa. Ok, thought I, I’ll find some Joe Bonamassa and have a listen. Loved it, and now have all his albums plus one he has done with some others calling themselves Black Country Communion.

Because I am over halfway through my life I can remember when Dave Lee Travis was on Radio 1 at the weekend, to be honest I can remember Junior Choice at the weekend with Ed ‘Stewpot’ Stewart (I can still hear ‘Sparkies magic Piano’ by Henry Blair!). DLT used to play some cracking tunes and after hearing them I would, sometimes, go out and buy the album, Marc Cohn had a good album and I bought that after hearing ‘Walking in Memphis’ one Saturday. Forget that horrible cover version by Cher!!!

I have just bought an album by a woman named Caro Emerald based on listening to one track on the radio while I was out and about in the car. She sings with a very 1950’s style and I can imagine myself suited and booted in some smokey club…


I nearly added dancing to that last statement but, unlike Mrs Giant68, I have 2 left feet, in 2 right shoes. I fail to understand how people can get their bodies to move the way they do. Mrs Giant68 likes to watch ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ and, I must admit, that I occasionally glance up from my book and take a peek. I would love to be able to tango, but the bodies change direction instantly. My body was pretty obviously designed with comfort in mind and has the turning circle and stopping distance of an oceangoing supertanker! But the whole thing looks very elegant, very smooth, very not me. Still, I can dream.



Giant68 x

Sunday, 10 July 2011

The meek will not inherit the Earth!

I was taught to be courteous. I have taught my children to be courteous. I was taught to stand aside and let people pass. Hold doors open, give up my seat on the bus or train, say please and thank you.

I am proud that my children have listened to me and are polite and courteous. I have been congratulated by friends, family and various people that I don’t know from Adam, on having such well behaved and polite children.

But there comes a time when I am really fed up with being so polite. When will people get out of my way, or give up a seat for me or even say thank you? If I am walking along the street with Mrs Giant68, side by side, and people are approaching, I will step ahead and move over so that they can pass. But more and more often i am forced to leave the pavement because people will not move over for me. They want the whole pavement. Well, I am so sorry, but the worm is turning. I will no longer give you all the space you want. You will get exactly what you need. If you want more you will find that 18 stone of Giant68 is in the way.

I remember when I was a kid that people in a crowded place tend to not notice that there is a small person in the way and they do try to walk through the space where there is a small child. When my kids were small i would get them to walk in front of me. It seemed that I was invisible at this point because people would still try and walk through my kids. There have been  a number of people that have suddenly come up short when they realise that I was there! 


It still makes me chuckle that I seem to have a stealth mode fitted to my body. People will not see me. If only it was true. Stealth mode on the body? I would be in the ladies changing rooms having a good look! Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. It’s only stealth mode when I am walking in the street or in the car (the stealth field stretches to fit around the car when I am in it!).



And then there is the, now common, greeting of a’right mate from the checkout person in the supermarket. Get it straight! I am not your mate. I will never be your mate! I am a customer. I am Sir. Or Mr Giant68. I will not be referred to as mate by someone with more piercings than a second hand dartboard, greasy hair that needs a damned good trim and rampant acne! Courtesy should be compulsory, it should be a law of nature!

I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it, so I am going to open a bottle of South African Pinotage and relax for five minutes.

Bye for now.


Giant68     x