I know I know … the last thing you need is yet another self indulgent dreary fucking blog of half arsed memories and shambolic swill from a total idiot.
Thank your lucky stars then that your bus ride through the internet has by great and fortuitous providence dropped you off right here.
You golden radiant seventh son, daughter, creature of a seventh son of utter magic …
So. What’s first.
An Obit to John Martyn.
Thirteen years late, but who cares. It’s here now … and to be fair I did write it two days after his death, when I read about it in a newspaper whilst in Essex. Not the best place for up to the minute news.
The Preamble explains ~ The Obit is my personal world.
Second on the pile, if you scroll down; a memoir.
Me in the seventies.
In East Sussex. Principally in a village by the name of Newick – My former spiritual home. (Now I roam like a comet… although based in another small Sussex village, I am not grounded by any force to the Earth. So tough luck.)
Anyway, I’m putting this up for my own amusement, and as I want to see what I can remember and use. It may be of no interest to anyone, but if you like it etc, then drop by the Twitter account or email, and let me know.
j
Well, I enjoyed that. Wrote it yonks ago, did the rounds on a few boards. Bit of a fine tune to re-use it in our Crabtree and Plumpton yarns, and by chance of unusual word usage, decided to whack it up here. In its fitting home.
So, let’s go full loon and get something new up for the frantic baying mob.
Again, totally personal. I’m going to have a crack at peeling back the scar tissue, and see what if anything I can recall about anything at all between 1970 and 1979 … It will not be in any order, but will be made as bullet-point easy to read as possible.
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