Author: basgallop

mr bojangles

who was mr bojangles? was having a debate with abba yesterday… i presumed he was some sort of jazz age character
good old wikipedia… the song is about a down and out tap dancer the writer met in a prison cell (and his dog!), who in turn was named for the original 20’s dancer Bill Robinson
whereas the derivation of Bojangles is either ‘happy-go-lucky’, ‘squabbler’ or, in the Pali language, the word ‘bhojangha’ means “limbs of enlightenment”.
heres a bizarrely literal tom jones, sammy davis jr version
the internet… so many ways to waste time!

professor

audio of text

i should have been a PROFESSOR! ahh the bitter sweet wail of a singular pang of remorse
professor of whatever? something gestalt weltscmerz zeitgeist schadenfreude! professor emeritus of eurhythmy and yodelling at the university of uuulan bator
i’d be in my lair, surrounded by fusty old books of spells, the mild pong of real ale and stale ganja… with a view down through the woods to the sea beyond
actually ulan bator is probs some way from the sea?… so mbe hawaii! or totnes! occasionally i’d listen to birdsong, roll up my sleeves and saunter off through the spring succulence, to deliver a lecture

decided all this during my mid afternoon candlelit bath…
the life of a freelancer, ostensibly this whim had been to help ‘resolve issues with my javascript objects, how they can be recalibrated to hoover up the remaining bitBytes’
instead lounged in a pool of patchouli, awash with regret
off to yoga, but when i’m back, all nidra(ed) out, i shall rummage through the sea chest and dust off my certificate ‘bsc hons chemistry, third class, university of exeter 1987’
and ponder on all that might have been… possibly a bit bored?

big wheel

audio of text

‘big wheel keeps on turning’ 3rd puncture, second new inner tube in about a week… and i haven’t even got to seaford and back
bike punctures are like buses (or not like buses!), none for a year, then all at once
time to wield spoons, disembowel and rummage around midst its rubbery guts… the foghorns are a calling, that whale song bellow
looking at pic, could probs do with scrubbing my derailleur too… not a euphemism
curiously, on the rare occasions i do anything practical, involving a toolbox, like putting up a blind, bashing a screw with a hammer (yeah i got this!) i always feel like i am impersonating dad..
a strangely comforting mimicry, sure one day Finn will be cheerfully mirroring me

beano

audio of text

Blimey O’Reilly got a postcard from Finn (away working on a ski season)
Astonishing! Suspicious parent suspects he must want something??? yet there is always the slender possibility he’s entered the realm of compassionate humanity
In other news i’m allergic to all the beautiful flowers in the world, can’t stop sneezing
or possibly i’m allergic to work? yes yes. oh and managed to put more memory in computer, just sticklebrick click it in, now it will vroom… and not a breeze what my phone number currently is? old one or new one? neither? both?
end of enthralling news flash x

fluffy

feeling deliciously fluffy and mellow, back from a week roaming around the western lands
firstly pootling about near glasto with lovely friends, up the tor, zig zag, forensic grammar(!) cactii and erbs
Then the glorious hug fest that is buddhafield… the site hunkered down in a valley, serene amongst trees, prayer flags fluttering against a backdrop of sky, the mingled sounds of drums, voices singing and the grumpy thud of electronic beats
interestingly i didn’t have as many of the full power euphoric moments of other years, but just felt astonishingly happy… enough, more than enough!
land and people, always it is land and people that both heals and nourishes us
lots of missed connections, curious how many friends you can only glimpse but once over 5 days, but, ha, no matter when you can plonk yourself down next to a random stranger, gabble away, share a moment
my most powerful memory is just that of laughing! many many lovely new people
grooving away down the front to omniblivion, qi gong, yakking about the fire, singing, snuggled up, cozy in small world after all the bands have gone
stewarding, rocking the walkie talkie, hi viz and colourful ermintrude hat!
Curiously, stewarding is brill, a few niggly moments of course(!), but its such a gentle friendly way to get involved with and deeply into the festie
its a bit like being in a singing workshop, if i’m at the back, on the edge, behind a couple of tall broad fellows then i just can’t feel it, miss every note
but when i wriggle and shimmy my way to the front, there, cocooned amongst folk, caressed by the timbre and warmth of the human voice… there …together
heartfelt thanks to all you beauuuuuuuuuuuuutiful souls. Love Ya!
no pics, as always, so just the first song i’m listening to this morning… take it away janis

soppy kiss

…and a huge hug and a soppy kiss, belatedly, for all of the buddhafield massif!!!! You wonderful people!
due to circumstances (thanks to those who helped with those) was a preposterous but sumptous short 48 hour jaunt to somerset!
many lovely new friends, nights giggling and guffawing withb old ones… meditation, and a very lumpy earth to sleep on
highlights.. hmmm many! a heat funk ecstatic dance, gawping into beautiful soulful eyes, hugging, but then sweat stuck flesh to flesh, having to peel yourself apart from each other (ha!)… straight from there over to the utterly different, equally amazing, manic gallumphing exuberance of the ceilidh… doxie do yaw pardner, strip the willow… ‘hello! would you like to dance’ ‘Why! Thank you. don’t mind if i do!’
else having a siesta in the glade waking neath the shade of beautiful beech trees, an undulating mosaic of leaves above… soporific patterns
after a singing workshop, one wonderful fellow went off to propose to his girlfriend… they were smooching in the garden outside of a tee pee… our camouflaged choir snuck along behind, surrounded them, linked arms and sang ‘Si a Hambe, qui que neni cose’ (or some such malarkey)… sentimental and sweet
overall, a reminder to myself that i don’t have to be curmudgeonly, overwhelmed, restricted, but rather …that sometimes,at least we can be open, expanded… exalted… to summon the feelings of poise and grace… blessed thanks for the sunshine, the beauty of this land, the health of my body (a boon so often taken for granted)… and most of all for the water that is love, that flows so sweetly between us all. om shanti. love x