Please, excuse me

For reasons I'm not going to go into, there won't be much of an entry today.

But, I am quite well, nothing fundamentally wrong.  That's a good sign.  Physically, I am well.  Emotionally, I am a little frayed and come very close to punching some people.  Trust me, they deserve it.

So, until later

Jym

Oh, and don't be strangers.

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

...but the fire is so delightful!  (And, NO!  I will not sing Dean Martin.)

Well, the storm came and went.  But with the weather, my health and laziness, I have done nothing today.  Well, took delivery of a new laser printer and the debut CD by Sand, but nothing much else.  Thus I'm at a bit of a loose end as to what to write about.

I'm about a week into round one of chemo, this is where things can get a bit tough.  My drug regime is a three week cycle, on day one it's IV drugs then tablets until the three weeks are up.  The low point is about a week to 10 days after infusion, which is about now.  I'm fine.  Heck, out the blue an offer to see Camel tonight came up, I'm well enough to go but didn't have enough warning.  But, here's the thing.  I'm staying in doing nothing because it is prudent.

But, here's a problem.  What do I write about?  Cue, to the rescue, cousin Zephyr.  With Lou Reed departing this mortal coil and going to join the choir invisible, how about the greatest dead rock band?  

The what, you ask?  The greatest dead rock band!  Which is odd given my love of live music.  Basically, a bad where all the members are dead.  Or rather, a bad made up of musicians who have passed.  Basically, if I die I want the best jam session available in Heaven when I get there.  Not an easy task, but bear with me whilst I build my band.

One choice was easy, one and one alone.  Bassist.  To quote Highlander, "there can be only one."  Some call him the greatest player of all time, that may not universally agreed but he was a player.  The late and certainly great, Jaco Pastorius.

Weather Report with Jaco on bass.  Just let that wash over you.  My dear and old friend, the award winning composer Lester Barnes visited Jaco's grave recently.  So easy, easy choice.

Now, behind that, drums.  Who to have?  As a big prog fan, not that some of you would have known, whoever I choose has to be stunning.  Basically, the short list is Keith Moon (hellraiser, unreliable), John Bonham (odd, I'm not a Zeppelin fan, so he's out), Gene Krupa or Buddy Rich.  I include Krupa for one very good reason, aside from being a brilliant player, I can post this.

Yep, Apollo 440's Krupa, I like it, but it's not the winner.  Nope, that has to be the man who even Rush Neil Peart admires.  Buddy Rich.  Why, you ask?  Watch this.  But before you do, note he's wearing a dinner jacket with a waistcoat, a bow tie that is done up on a collar that is buttoned up.  Don't forget the collars with cuff links.  Beat that!

Now that impresses me!  That is playing you'd never get on the X-Factor.  Simon Cowell has so much to answer for,

When it came to guitar I realised this was another no brainer.  Zappa?  Well, there was a maverick genius if ever I heard one.  Scary thought, Zappa died in 1993!  Jeff Hanneman, formerly of Slayer.  Nah, to brash.  It has to be the man I always regard as the greatest guitarist of all time.  More grace, touch, style and ability than almost anyone.  Django Rheinhardt.  Get your lug holes round this and agree with me.

Still astounds me.  That is how you play.  Superb.

Keyboard, Manzarek or Lord?  I would go for Jon Lord, big player, big sound, but maybe a little too bombastic  But Manzarek, well he was in The Doors.  Melody, feel and touch.  Hey, you tell me I'm wrong.

So that leaves me with a singer.  I want a girl.  I want blues.  I want Janis Joplin.

Hey - you don't like?   Then let's hear your band of the departed.

Jym

Oh, and in hospital tomorrow.  Back to the medical stuff then.

I declare the weekend a bust.

Saturday has gone.  What a boring day.

Sunday, well I can't be bothered.  Living close to the south coast and with the impeding bad weather, I have done nothing with the day.  Well, aside from get into a staring contest with a hawk and mourn the loss of Lou Reed.

Okay, back up.  I what with a what?

Oh, yes.  Got into a staring contest with a hawk.  Better explain.

There is me, today, stuck at home.  Not really in the mood to go out with the beginnings of the bad weather, so in I stayed and went through some CDs.  Some live Yes, some live Genesis, some live Marillion, some live Kansas - heck, who needs studios?  Sorting out the iPod, exciting things I do.  So, whilst I'm doing this I heard this almighty crash, like something had hit my back door, well the back door to the house.  I'm sure you don't want to think the about it being another back door.  Or the sounds it might make.

So, I wonder into the kitchen and discover a hawk sitting outside having just killed a pigeon.  Now, I don't know about you, but I spend very little time with hawks.  I don't know any, never talk to them, don't write to them.  They just fly around.  So I'm not an expert.  What does the thing do?  It swivels its head and gives me the look of "so what?  I'm a hawk."  I ran off to get my camera so I could give you a look at the thing, but when I came back to take the snap, the bird had flown.  Boring day and that was it.

So, I shall sign off and say, RIP Lou Reed.  Enjoy this.

Jym

I'll try and be interesting tomorrow.

Touching bass with Touchstone in London - An evening of prog!

Wow, I got home after 2am this morning, got to sleep about 3am and woke up about 8.30am(ish).  Why? Well I was a-rocking and a-rolling in London.  So today has been doing exciting things, like shopping in Sainsbury's and, erm, buying vacuum cleaners!  How rock and roll am I?

But last night was the Garage in Islington, so here are some photos and a few comments from the night.  Just wanted to prove that whilst chemotherapy is not fun, if you are sensible you can still have a life.

So ,allow me introduce you, from left to right, Mr Jon "Twang" Patrick of House Of Progression, his partner in crime, Mr Geoff Banks and my lovely friend and stalker, Miss Jill Lerner.  Good friends and decent people.  House Of Progression put on last night's gig, featuring Touchstone and the Von Hertzen Brothers.  A success, my friends, a success.

When I was younger, as we all were, one of my favourite bands was, and still is, Twelfth Night.  The Ceiling Speaks from their Live And Let Live album still sends shivers up my spine.  So this photo of my friend Clive Mitten AKA Major Clanger talking to Twang fills me with pride to know these lovely people.

And to compliment the previous picture, the wonderful Lady C, Angela Gibbins AKA Mrs Mitten, again with Twang (honestly, how many photos is he in?).  The lovely people help to keep my spirits up.

Ah, this is Mr Roger Marsh, gainfully employed by Fraser and Fraser of Heir Hunters fame.  Always good to see Roger.  And behind him are

from left to right, Mr Chris Foskett, Mr Kevin Blackett and Mr Grant Meaby!  Proof that not only are you never too old to rock and roll, but growing old gracefully is such a waste of time!  Life would be so dull without the mad and wonderful people in it,

Ah, Mr Rob Ramsay, lyricist and "spoken word part" performer for Tinyfish.  He understands the importance of a semi-colon.  Goodness, he beat me to that joke before I could mention it.  Nice one sir!

Ah, ladies and germs, the wonderful Sarah Worsley, who has promised she will run the London Marathon in 2015.  The moral of the story is, don't take the piss out Jerry Ewing, editor of Prog magazine.

And here is Mr Jerry Ewing, for whom on this I am his right hand man, with his pet marathon runner.  I shall look forward to sponsoring her in the near future.

And finally, Miss Kim "Elkie" Seviour!  Singist and all round girl of Touchstone vamping it up very well.

Thanks one and all, including those I have no snaps of, for a top evening.  Do it again soon I hope.

Jym

Oh, and thanks to Von Hertzen Brothers.  Excellent band.  Nice one chaps.

Not much of an update today.

A quick note to say I won't be writing much today.  I'm off to London in a bit to see Touchstone at The Garage.  With that in mind you can guess I have done very little so nothing to talk about.

I'm feeling okay else I'd stay at home, but I shall update properly tomorrow, hopefully with a collection of photos.

So fret not, back tomorrow.

Jym

Oh, and nothing to see here.  Move along!  Move along!

A boring update for a boring day.

There's a level of laziness that comes over you when you are sick.  Same, well I find, during sick leave.  At the moment it is not helped by people saying things like "take it easy" or "no heavy lifting" or stop hoovering.  Add to that the malaise that come from being ill and going through chemotherapy, you start looking for things to do.

Imagine therefore how annoyed I am that I can't play my guitar properly.  With the ever so useful, but slightly uncomfortable, PICC line in my arm it's difficult to bend and I can't play the damned thing.  Also, my mandolin, but that's because the strings hurt my hands.  Maybe I should finally learn the keyboards, but that would involve having one (of course if anybody would like to give me a Korg Kronos or Roland Fantom I might be tempted to accept).  So alternate activities are required.

Someone will suggest reading, but I already do that.  Watching TV, oh dear no!  Homes Under The Hammer (yikes), Escape To The Country (please do, and get yourself caught in a cattle stampede) or the most evil of all, The Jeremy Kyle Show (about which there is not enough bile to spill in the whole history of the world).  DVDs?  Okay, if you insist.

Basically, I am bored some days.  But today, I wasn't bored.  No, today I finally caught up on my lost sleep.  Sadly I woke up to find Bargain Hunt on the TV.  Scary stuff.  Thus my Thursday has been one of doing nothing.  I had lunch, ooh exciting.  I went in to Eastbourne, bought a laser printer and wrote this nonsense.  Why is it easier to write about nothing than the interesting stuff?

But on a plus side, I feel well.  Not 100%, obviously with cytotoxins in the system, but not far off.  Too early to know about side effects, but with any luck I won't have them.  Last time I dodged that bullet, so I hope to do some dodging again.

But, to make up for the lack of interesting stuff, click the link above.  It still makes me laugh.

Jym

Oh, and hopefully I'll see some of you in London on Friday.

I shall draw the day to a close

Today has  been easy.  But I was tired this morning.  The evening round of pills has been taken and it's time to sleep.

I feel mostly okay, but not "normal" is the best thing to say.  Not sick, just off somehow.  But with a lot of poisons in the system, hopefully killing cancer cells, that's not surprising.  It;s early in this cycle of chemo.  It can be split into two sections, the first day with the intravenous drugs followed by tablets for the rest.  That'll be the routine of pills until the next day of liquid hell.  Until it's finished and the drugs leave the system it will get no better than this.

So, if you don't mind, I'll sign off there and hit the sack.

Night all.

Jym

Oh, and sleep tight.  Don't let the bed bugs bite.