Thursday 29 July 2010

Fortissimo Friday: Dave Matthews

Yes all right, all right. It’s Thursday. But I’m buzzing today. I’ve had a good one.

And in no small part I’m sure to the fact that I’ve had an earworm all day courtesy of the delectable Mr Matthews.

What I love the most about him? Well, strangely enough, it’s that over here in the UK he’s a virtual unknown. I mean, the man can sell out stadiums in North America in minutes, and yet... here? When he does play gigs on this side of the pond you’re talking one, two thousand seaters, max. And oh, dear readers, you know how I love me my little tiny venues. :-)

Lemme tell you a little story...

Some years ago... oh this was, 2006? Christmas time. Jase and I were doing a bit of last minute shopping in town and we happened to walk past Newcastle City Hall. There’s a playbill up on the side of the building, and it says “An Acoustic Evening with Dave Matthews.”

I’m not joking – I stopped dead in my tracks. All of a sudden, my legs didn’t seem to belong to me, and I bent double at the waist – all I could do was point at the poster, mouth agape, making the occasional squeaky, breathless gasp! Dave Matthews? MY Dave Matthews? HERE? In my town? In THERE? That... teeny tiny... in THERE?

From our position outside the front of the building we made it to the box office in less than 10 strides and before I knew it we had the tickets in our hands. 23 February. Dave Matthews. Hurrah!

Now, let me clarify a point or two... Dave Matthews Band? Hmmm...not so much my cup of tea. A little too jazzy for my liking. But Dave Matthews on his own? Man and guitar? Right up my alley. The place was packed out and to my extreme surprise and delight the esteemed Mr Tim Reynolds was there accompanying Dave through a powerhouse of a set.  A delightful few hours...just what I like –lots of between song banter and a good mix of old stuff  with a good mix of new. Our seats were in the front row of the balcony so we had a perfect view; we felt like he was playing in our living room. Jason was blown away. It was a great gig.

That’s rotten of me, I know. “It was a great gig.” But I’ve been staring at the cursor for the last ten minutes and I just can’t summon the words that would possibly justify how amazing it was. Here – listen, you’ll see what I mean.

Here’s a little bit of video I took of “Satellite”:


And here’s a bit of Tim Reynolds having the stage to himself:


And (not from our gig) but one of my favourites:


And finally? This is from a show in Atlanta in 1998 – it was this recording that was my first Dave Matthews experience – and consequently the reason why Mr Matthews is in his rightful place in the Top Ten List of Sweating Totally Hot Sexy Men With Whom I Would Run Away In A Nanosecond:


So tell me – do you love him now, too?

Tuesday 27 July 2010

Recipe for a Good Day

Ingredients

1 girl, age 34
1 child, male, age 5
1 baby, male, age 1
1 husband, age 40

Preparation time: 6 hours
Serves: one


    Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm behold the deliciousness.
Take your girl, and give her the day off work.  Place the male child at his Grandma’s house, and put the baby in a daycare facility of your choice. Put the husband on a train to Bristol, where he will work for 3 days, 2 nights.

Shower and dress the girl. Let her wear her favourite jeans and that t-shirt that she likes that nobody else likes.

Buy the girl a houmous and grated carrot with coriander baguette and a surprise her with a bottle of Arizona Green Tea with ginseng and honey (not normally available in the UK). Also, let her have a Reece’s Peanut Butter Cup because they go very well with the Green Tea.

Gently place the girl in the audience of the Tyneside Cinema where she will watch a French movie and eat her lunch. Simmer for approximately 90 minutes.

After the movie, buy the girl a lovely beaded bracelet and necklace on sale for £5 down from £20.

Also, let her wander in a bookshop and let her find a book of children’s poetry that accompanies an old record from the 70’s that the husband found in a cardboard box in a Cumbrian village bric-a-brac shop on their honeymoon.

Let her thumb her way through at least three boxes of used records and CD’s at that shop down by the Grainger Market whose name you can’t remember. 

Put the following song into her head while she is wandering around her beautiful city:



Send her home from town to a quiet and clean house and make her a cup of Tetley’s Extra Strong tea, which she will drink on the sofa. Add a touch of sunbeam coming through the sitting room window, to taste.

Add just a dash of a phone call which culminates in an exciting informal job interview in two days’ time. Sprinkle in at least two romantic text messages to and from the husband over the day, for good measure.

Enjoy.

Wednesday 7 July 2010

Happy 1st Birthday Jude



Can't hardly believe it... but 7th July marks Jude's first birthday.  How the hell did that happen?  Didn't I just have him?!

*sob*

Happy birthday, little fella.

Love,
Mammy
xoxox

Friday 2 July 2010

The World Cup - Part 3

SCENE: BEDROOM

A woman is in bed. Next to her on the bedside table is a bottle of eyedrops and some antibiotics. She is unwell, but still, she has lovely hair. The telephone rings – the woman’s friend is calling from abroad.

Woman: (croakily) Hello?
Friend: Ugh. You sound dead.
W: I nearly am.
F: What have you been up to?
W: Sleeping, mostly. Whining quite a bit. Trying to remember to take far too many tablets and not scratch my eyes out.  Ooh, but I have watched two Michael Cera movies this week. His face has been a beacon in my fevered state.
F: He’s from Toronto.
W: Don’t you love it when awesome people are Canadian? I’m pretty sure I’m developing a small crush on him. I have spent a disproportionately large part of today wondering whether he actually tastes all ‘tangy and delicious’ from Orange Tic-Tacs like Juno says he does in ‘Juno’.
W & F: (together) Mmmm.

There is a brief pause in the conversation.

F: So, how is the state of the country?
W: What, because of the Tories?
F: No, dumbass. Because of the football.
W: Oh, that. Yeah, well, we’re all basically doomed. But that’s nothing new. There is nothing as English as disappointment.
F: I’m just sad that Steven Gerrard’s not going to be on the TV any more.
W: Ew, are you kidding?
F: Shut up! He’s cute!
W: Or NOT! Anyway, it’s ‘Steven GER-rard’ not ‘Steven Ger-RARD.’
F: Whatever. You guys also say ‘addy-das’ and ‘jaggew-ar’ when you really mean Adidas and Jaguar.
W: Hey! I’m only trying to help. If you met him and said his name wrong, it would certainly be damaging to your campaign to convince him to initiate a clandestine affair.
F: True.
W: You can have him. I’m quite happy with Frank Lampard and David James. Especially without shirts.
F: Frank Lampard? Whatever. Anyway, he has a cowlick at the back of his head, like me.
W: You're a loser.  Don’t judge Frank for his cowlick. I’m friends with you despite yours, aren't I?

A man (with a beard) enters.

W: Lindsay fancies Steven Gerrard.
F: There’s nothing wrong with him!

The man's facial expression turns to a mixture of alarm and disgust.  (it is barely noticeable behind his fucking giant beard.)

W: Jason just made a face.
F: Fuck off with his face.
W: She wants to be seen as his WAG on his arm.
M: I wouldn’t want to be seen with him dead on my arm after Sunday’s performance.
F: True.  But he’s still cute, though. And Michael Cera, obviously.
W & F: (together)  Mmmm.

There is a brief pause in the conversation.

F: How old is he, anyway?
W: I dunno, probably like 25 or 26.
F: Well that’s okay, we’re 33 and 34 so he’s not that young.
W: Wait. I will Google him from my iPhone.
F: Good idea. I am going to Google Steven Gerrard.
W: Fuck! He’s like... 22. He was born in 1988.
F: Damn. No Tic-Tacs for you.

There is a brief pause in the conversation.

F: Oooh, but he has a BIG pile of junk.
W: MICHAEL CERA? Michael Cera has a big pile of junk? Where?
F: No, cradle snatcher. Steven Ger-RARD.



Click here for The World Cup - Part 2.

Click here for The World Cup - Part 1.