“Come into my parlour
Sail in at my shore
Drink my soul dry
There is always more
There is always more after”
Pagan Place – Michael Scott
When I bought my first album in 1979 , Regatta de Blanc by The Police in Devine’s Records on Dublin St. Monaghan, it was only 9 years since The Beatles had released their final album, Let It Be. Then, I thought, The Beatles were in the same category as Demis Roussos, Abba and the soundtracks to Joesph & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, i.e. they were the records Mam and Dad listened to and were ancient.
It’s now 40 years since I bought that album. I’m listening to it as I write this. I know every single track in a way that you no longer listen to new albums, as you mostly listen to them on Spotify and flit between the singles.
There’s no need to panic ! This isn’t going to drift wearily into a lament about the passage of time…although why does hair start to sprout in your ears when you turn 40…and never stop ?
Anyway this is more about skipping past the good bits to get to what you think are the great bits. Or rather it’s about me skipping blithely past the bits of my life that I take for granted, to get to the parts that I’m supposed to appreciate more.
A very simple example.
Every day I wake up in a warm bed, my Soulmate gently sleeping like a Disney princess beside me, and switch on the news on my iPhone.
Simple.
But I am safe and secure in my own home , unlike 85% of the world. I found someone who has been with me since we were 17, without once trying to murder me, no matter how much I deserved it. Even in describing this simple scenario I’ve taken liberty with the fact that she always wakes first , usually to the angelic sound of my snoring. And then I reach for my phone, which has been recharged over night by free flowing electricity, something others would rightly consider a luxury, and connect to the internet via Wifi, I know ,<< Test First Name >>, Wifi in Lisbane !
The phone in my hand has more memory and processing power than all of the combined computers NASA used in Houston for the Apollo moon landings !
I lie in bed and think and wonder.
“Aren’t you getting up ?” my now fully dressed, cats fed, kids called, and lunches prepared Soulmate asks.
“In a minute.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“It is.”
Outside I can hear Molly barking next door, and in the distance the cry of the eagle that has made the triangle between our house, McMahons at the bridge and Kilmore church his home.
The kettle’s boiling downstairs.
All this, and I haven’t put a foot out of bed yet.
Just out of curiosity what’s your favourite album track that wasn’t released as a single ?
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is ‘Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey’s Head– with Dennis Hopper
