Thursday [14 and 15]

(1035) Approaching elevenses, a watershed everyday for me, far moreso than lunch. (1124)

15.  One bridge too far

Poor old guy in that first clip … whyever did they make him stand there on those unsteady joints … and for how long?

14.  How to work yourself into a corner

… only for you to realise it once it’s too late.

There are things I avoid like the plague … vile pictures such as Elton John, Pelosi, etc. etc., ugly modern architecture, less and less of the harsher music of my yoof … there are just things which jarr and jangle and we’re under enough pressure as it is … who needs to see that which cannot be unseen?

Yet we have to mention and show some such things obliquely, e.g. that train stabbing … a screenshot of a clip, without the clip itself.

Then there are things that I don’t feel a man should go near any old way … they can only be counterproductive. The ladies themselves I constantly retweet … they’re fine, I’m happy to be called too soft on them … so full steam ahead retweeting and dropping in some banter.

What’s more dangerous though is when they themselves get a bit mothery and start posting little boys and girls, as cute as buttons. I cough and skip over, steer a wide berth … it’s just not worth it. A man needs to keep that stuff at a distance, given the topics on our hit list at N.O.

It’s also necessary to see ahead, at least a day or two. I plan ahead a bit with what’s coming up at N.O. and one this afternoon is not going to do me any favours I’m afraid … I’m referring to three songs which Linda Ronstadt covered … the middle one is her on her own album cover … that’s fine.

The opening song though is by a very good band of session musos and then “that girl”. Looking very much like a young Linda Ronstadt, she’s the one I wrote looked sometimes black, sometimes white … for a reason. And that voice is, imho, as close to Linda R’s as it’s possible to get. Even Tina Turner sounded harsh, young, but this one is the goods. I just wish she’d dressed a bit more (cough) modestly.

Naturally I checked the age, searched around for Tristan McIntosh, found out when the clip was performed … phew, she was of age by a fair bit … my rule of thumb is 23. Even so, me running her at N.O. … hmmmm. But I shall, coz that voice …!

Different story with the Spanish American girl … that voice again. I had Linda R versions of the two songs, one with the Eagles but somehow these covers from these two others were well worth risking the running.

Until I checked n3’s age. See, she’s the same age as the other now … but this was from a decade before. Er. The voice is amazing, if still untrained. Plus it seemed a California background scene in summer, so it was culturally interesting.

So I’m going to run them … oh, n3’s song was the Stone Poneys song Different Drum. And part of the lyrics are “ Oh, don't get me wrong, it's not that I’m knocking, it’s just that I am not in the market for a boy who wants to love only me. Yes, and I ain't sayin' you ain't pretty, all I'm saying's I'm not ready for any person, place or thing to try and pull the reins in on me …”

How appropriate for that singer, at that age, yes indeedy.  That tipped the balance in me running the song. Plus I wanted to lead back to Linda R herself now.

Never married, was often asked why, given her succession of men … she eventually “confessed” to not being able to compromise. Hmmmmm … given her leftist leanings and notions of marriage and family … hmmmm … think I’ll leave it there.

Which brings me to the middle track, the one by her, from Heart Like A Wheel … more confessions from me about a certain femme fatale decades ago now. 

You see, we didn’t need to meet at the dark end of the street, her and me. I mean, we’d been at one of the main nightclubs for goodness sake … the whole town had seen us. Plus it was off the beaten track, that dead end street.

But interestingly, she understood the whole tragi-romantic significance, so agreed to meet me there and then we took a car into town. So when I say that that song has yuge significance for me, just as does Angel of the Morning (Merrilee Rush version only, not Juice Newton, sorry to say) … it’s not the lyrics only here, it’s that whole stage-managed evening … she was just as much a drama queen as I was a faux white knight or even a dark rider in the shadows.

Why not, we thought at the time.

So 1230 for those songs, ok, which leaves room for an episode of Callan after that, then more politics after that. Current thinking here as I contemplate what to have for breakfast.