A Definitive Genesis Experience

Such excitement, Dear Readers!

Tomorrow I and Eileen are going to watch G2 Definitive Genesis perform at Wavendon Stables.

G2 are a group who work very hard at what is, after all, very complex music. They practice diligently (I know for a fact that keyboard practice was going on till late last night in the G2 household) and tomorrow they are going to be doing something which Genesis never did.  Playing the whole of A Trick of the Tale and Foxtrot live. These men are lovers of progressive music, and travel the country for the joy it brings to our ageing ears.

In recognition of their dedication and workmanship, I shall be timing the songs carefully to ensure they are authentic and accurate representations of the originals. Obviously it would be fairly easy to get a whole song the right length and so, to ensure there is no nasty cheating by speeding up or slowing down at the end, I will be taping the individual parts. I will be making sure this is particularly the case during the instrumental in Mad, Mad Moon. I played this once myself and it was note perfect. Well, to be exact I coded it into my computer and played it through a MIDI interface into my electronic keyboard. Which is, on a functional basis, exactly the same thing.

I do however have one cloud on my horizon. I referred this afternoon to Eileen and myself going on a "date". Once she had recovered from that unexpected outbreak of retching and choking, this led to me being hit with her cricket bat of doom. Eileen would like to make it very clear that she separately bought her own ticket, has a seat at the other end of the Stables and will be travelling independently. She has also declared that I will get another thump with the cricket bat if I encroach within the 30 yard "personal exclusion zone" she has declared around herself.

Which isn't that romantic, I agree. But it's still better than some dates I have been on in the past.

The Cold Truth

Curtains are drawn, now the fire warms the room. Meanwhile outside wind from the North-east chills the air. I'm not saying it will soon be snowing out there, but certainly it's currently threatening to get into the zone where frost forms.

But some in the Great House are cold, they prepare for a sleepless night, knowing that I have cut the winter heating budget and charged them all for additional copies of the Evening Telegraph to use as blankets or - if they are lucky enough to have grates in their rooms - unsold copies of Gordon Brown's latest book to burn.

I know things will be hard. But we are all in this together.

Moon Gibbon Eggs

Message for all Beaker Folk - just because a respected member of the Celtic Christian community mentioned the expression "sure as eggs are eggs" in the context of the supposed Moon Gibbon does not mean that this imaginary being is, as well as mythical, oviparous. The Extreeme Beaker Folk who are currently wandering around Aspley Heath with baskets looking for the Moon Gibbon Eggs aren't going to find anything. Also note that, in accordance with the sacred words of the prophet (not the angel) Gabriel, the expression should be "sure as eggs is eggs". This should also be considered a warning to anyone planning to look for butterflies on Willow Farm...

On an unrelated matter, please can people stop shoving slices of ham and processed cheese under the potting shed door for Drayton Parslow and his unreformed friends to eat. I know you're being well-meaning, but I'm afraid that a certain amount of strong-arm treatment is needed if we're going to crush their shocking attitude of intolerance.