Muxloes Musings is back in business and indeed back with a bang! Not too many words are needed here...just to report that I've become an uncle for the first time and its just about bloody brilliant!!! Congratulations to ITGeek who delivered the goods and JJ snr who is now a Dad (and what a great one he's gonna be too!) Our Mum would be so proud. One of her favourite songs had the chorus of "rock-a-bye sweet baby james", so its a pleasure to say welcome to the world and to the family our very own sweet baby James.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Friday, August 17, 2007
MM on 'a free ticket to behave like a sex maniac in public'
Hey hey, my my
Rock n roll will never die
- Neil Young
1977 was a momentus year; not only did Muxloe enter the world but the King of Rock n Roll finally left the building. You've probably noticed that this week marks the 30th anniversary of the death of Elvis. I declare that I love Elvis, not in a pilgrimage to Gracelands kind of way, but believe that the man deserves his title. At school we did a task of arguing a case for one historical figure not to be thrown from a hot air balloon. I chose Elvis Presley. Sure the music rocks but its so much more than that. On being drafted into the army and sent to Europe his only comment to reporters was "the first place I want go is Paris and look up Brigitte Bardot"....he was the incarnation of rock n roll!
My personal view is that those who don't like Elvis fall into one of two camps.
1. Those who've never given him a fair hearing
2. Those who are plain and simple wrong.
I see parrallels with my day job forever telling kids that the important thing about history is not so much what we know now but what they thought then. Forget what we know now about sightings of Elvis in chip shops, of Chinese lookalikes in karaoke bars, of the jelly and bacon sandwiches or the sweaty Vegas years and think of what Elvis meant at the time.
The Washington post's obituary of the King explained;
"In 1956, when Presley came crackling out of every radio and speaker in the land, young Americans notions about independence -- from parents, from religion, from the values of the time -- were forming. Elvis became "The King" of rock 'n' roll, but also of the emerging youth culture. He was a young, hip-thrusting, white singing music that was essentially black. Part of his attraction was that the '50s teenagers viewed him as epitomizing everything they thought their parents feared they would become -- cocky, slick, brash, tough, black-leatherclad, motorcycle straddling, stiletto-shoed."
After his first appearance on national TV one critic wrote
"It isn’t enough to say that Elvis is king to his parents.....that still isn’t a free ticket to behave like a sex maniac in public before millions of impressionable kids. According to a scholarly friend of mine, Jackie Gleason, we’ll survive Elvis. "He can’t last,’ said Gleason, 'I tell you flatly, he can’t last.' "
If you're one of those that don't understand exactly why Jackie Gleason was wrong and Elvis did last then my homework for you this week is to download and listen to Heartbreak Hotel. What a voice! I defy you not to shake your hips to that bass. The primitive solo is the root of every axesmith from Lou Reed's guitar on Heroin to Kurt's interlude on Smell's Like Teen Spirit. It was all delivered in a style that sent the girls wild and inspired the likes of the Beatles, Brian Wilson and Dylan. And then remember that it was recorded over 50 years ago - genius!
As John Lennon said 30 years ago this week - "The King is dead. But rock 'n' roll will never die. Long live the King."
Go on! Go download Heartbreak Hotel and listen to it with fresh ears, you won't be disappointed....tell us what you think in a comment (but please identify yourself!)
Rock n roll will never die
- Neil Young
1977 was a momentus year; not only did Muxloe enter the world but the King of Rock n Roll finally left the building. You've probably noticed that this week marks the 30th anniversary of the death of Elvis. I declare that I love Elvis, not in a pilgrimage to Gracelands kind of way, but believe that the man deserves his title. At school we did a task of arguing a case for one historical figure not to be thrown from a hot air balloon. I chose Elvis Presley. Sure the music rocks but its so much more than that. On being drafted into the army and sent to Europe his only comment to reporters was "the first place I want go is Paris and look up Brigitte Bardot"....he was the incarnation of rock n roll!
My personal view is that those who don't like Elvis fall into one of two camps.1. Those who've never given him a fair hearing
2. Those who are plain and simple wrong.
I see parrallels with my day job forever telling kids that the important thing about history is not so much what we know now but what they thought then. Forget what we know now about sightings of Elvis in chip shops, of Chinese lookalikes in karaoke bars, of the jelly and bacon sandwiches or the sweaty Vegas years and think of what Elvis meant at the time.
The Washington post's obituary of the King explained;
"In 1956, when Presley came crackling out of every radio and speaker in the land, young Americans notions about independence -- from parents, from religion, from the values of the time -- were forming. Elvis became "The King" of rock 'n' roll, but also of the emerging youth culture. He was a young, hip-thrusting, white singing music that was essentially black. Part of his attraction was that the '50s teenagers viewed him as epitomizing everything they thought their parents feared they would become -- cocky, slick, brash, tough, black-leatherclad, motorcycle straddling, stiletto-shoed."
After his first appearance on national TV one critic wrote
"It isn’t enough to say that Elvis is king to his parents.....that still isn’t a free ticket to behave like a sex maniac in public before millions of impressionable kids. According to a scholarly friend of mine, Jackie Gleason, we’ll survive Elvis. "He can’t last,’ said Gleason, 'I tell you flatly, he can’t last.' "
If you're one of those that don't understand exactly why Jackie Gleason was wrong and Elvis did last then my homework for you this week is to download and listen to Heartbreak Hotel. What a voice! I defy you not to shake your hips to that bass. The primitive solo is the root of every axesmith from Lou Reed's guitar on Heroin to Kurt's interlude on Smell's Like Teen Spirit. It was all delivered in a style that sent the girls wild and inspired the likes of the Beatles, Brian Wilson and Dylan. And then remember that it was recorded over 50 years ago - genius!
As John Lennon said 30 years ago this week - "The King is dead. But rock 'n' roll will never die. Long live the King."
Go on! Go download Heartbreak Hotel and listen to it with fresh ears, you won't be disappointed....tell us what you think in a comment (but please identify yourself!)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
MM on rainbows....
The recent uncertain weather has created some fantastic St. Reatham skies, including this double rainbow.
As with about 1 in 20 men I am red-green colour blind. It's no big deal, I never wanted to be a pilot, an electrician or a fireman anyway....although you can be sure I'd have looked dandy in the uniforms!
It's something that is hard to explain to others, people seem to think that either I see in black and white or can't recognise all reds and greens - that's not the case. All colours are a mixture of the primary colours and my eye picks up yellow and blue more dominantly that red - therefore my eyes acknowledgement of colour is different to 'normal'. I have no problem with traffic lights and I can see that grass is green but I find it difficult to pick out a red poppy in field of long grass.
Obviously by its nature I can't comment on if this is true or not but the map diagram shows how different eyes see the same image. The first map is what 'normal' eyes see and the others show to 'normal' eyes how people with different types of colourblindness see the same map. I think my perception is somewhere between the second and third maps.(click on the picture to enlarge the image)
The only time I ever ever regret being colour blind is when I spot a rainbow - I can see them in the sky but to me it pretty much looks like a series of bands in yellow or blue, I don't distinguish all the different colours.
It would be amazing to see a full rainbow. I've always had the romantic notion that the woman I fall in love with will some how be able to show me the rainbow....just as in one of my favourite songs; 'It's all over now baby blue' by Bob Dylan. "I met a young girl she gave me a rainbow."
To show that beauty is possible in even the most unpromising surroundings I've posted here photos I've taken from Muxloe Manor over the last few years of St. Reatham skies.
As with about 1 in 20 men I am red-green colour blind. It's no big deal, I never wanted to be a pilot, an electrician or a fireman anyway....although you can be sure I'd have looked dandy in the uniforms!
It's something that is hard to explain to others, people seem to think that either I see in black and white or can't recognise all reds and greens - that's not the case. All colours are a mixture of the primary colours and my eye picks up yellow and blue more dominantly that red - therefore my eyes acknowledgement of colour is different to 'normal'. I have no problem with traffic lights and I can see that grass is green but I find it difficult to pick out a red poppy in field of long grass.
Obviously by its nature I can't comment on if this is true or not but the map diagram shows how different eyes see the same image. The first map is what 'normal' eyes see and the others show to 'normal' eyes how people with different types of colourblindness see the same map. I think my perception is somewhere between the second and third maps.(click on the picture to enlarge the image)
The only time I ever ever regret being colour blind is when I spot a rainbow - I can see them in the sky but to me it pretty much looks like a series of bands in yellow or blue, I don't distinguish all the different colours.
It would be amazing to see a full rainbow. I've always had the romantic notion that the woman I fall in love with will some how be able to show me the rainbow....just as in one of my favourite songs; 'It's all over now baby blue' by Bob Dylan. "I met a young girl she gave me a rainbow."
To show that beauty is possible in even the most unpromising surroundings I've posted here photos I've taken from Muxloe Manor over the last few years of St. Reatham skies.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
MM on missing the morning muse....
One potential candidate to be Muxloe's Muse was a cute and stylish maiden I met catching the daily 8.43am train from Streatham Common to London Victoria. After some coy catching of each other's eye, the flash of a few smiles and some initial flirtations things have gone off the boil somewhat with the train-station princess. Every morning I think 'maybe I should rectify the situation and get the ball rolling again'. I approach the station full of noble intentions to engage her in conversation but somehow they whither and die when she looms into view. I feel like I'm 12 again - too scared to talk to a girl!
At the moment I'm reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens and this whole phenomenon is obviously nothing new. Copperfield is recounting about the time he went to see Little Em'ly, a girl he fell in love the summer before. He'd been desperate to see her and was full of things he wanted to say.
“A figure appeared in the distance before long and I soon knew it to be Em'ly.......when she drew nearer, and I saw her blue eyes looking bluer, and her dimpled face looking brighter and her whole self prettier, a curious feeling came over me that made me pretend not to know her,and pass by as if I were looking at something a long way off. I have done such a thing since in later life.
Little Em'ly didn't care a bit. She saw me well enough; but instead of turning round and calling after me, ran away laughing.”
I know how he feels, I wonder if the station princess knows how little em'ly feels too....
At the moment I'm reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens and this whole phenomenon is obviously nothing new. Copperfield is recounting about the time he went to see Little Em'ly, a girl he fell in love the summer before. He'd been desperate to see her and was full of things he wanted to say.
“A figure appeared in the distance before long and I soon knew it to be Em'ly.......when she drew nearer, and I saw her blue eyes looking bluer, and her dimpled face looking brighter and her whole self prettier, a curious feeling came over me that made me pretend not to know her,and pass by as if I were looking at something a long way off. I have done such a thing since in later life.
Little Em'ly didn't care a bit. She saw me well enough; but instead of turning round and calling after me, ran away laughing.”
I know how he feels, I wonder if the station princess knows how little em'ly feels too....
Saturday, June 09, 2007
MM on a man needing a maid and a muse...
Neil Young once sang 'I was thinking maybe I'd get a maid, find a place nearby for her to stay'. Judging by the state of my bedroom and frequently unironed shirts I'd have to concede that maybe a man does need a maid. But more than a maid, what muxloe needs is a muse.
On my recent visit to Madrid I was mesmerised by a painting in the Reina Sofia art gallery. It was a portrait of a French woman, Sonia De Klamery, by the Spanish artist Anglada. His muse managed to elevate his creativity and what was so stunning about the painting was his evidently passionate desire for her. I need a muse like that. My book needs me to have a muse like that. Someone who can inspire me to write, someone who lights a fire inside, someone who shows me all the world's colours. Or, to borrow a phrase from Siegfried Sassoon, someone who can touch 'my lips to song'. I need a Sonia De Klamery.
My life and the Elephant Orphanage would both be enhanced by the filling of my vacancy for a muse. I think I could get used to living on a boat with my very own Sylvia Plath. Any potential candidates can apply within....muses preferable but maids also welcome.
“And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath.”
- 'Sylvia Plath.' Ryan Adams
On my recent visit to Madrid I was mesmerised by a painting in the Reina Sofia art gallery. It was a portrait of a French woman, Sonia De Klamery, by the Spanish artist Anglada. His muse managed to elevate his creativity and what was so stunning about the painting was his evidently passionate desire for her. I need a muse like that. My book needs me to have a muse like that. Someone who can inspire me to write, someone who lights a fire inside, someone who shows me all the world's colours. Or, to borrow a phrase from Siegfried Sassoon, someone who can touch 'my lips to song'. I need a Sonia De Klamery.My life and the Elephant Orphanage would both be enhanced by the filling of my vacancy for a muse. I think I could get used to living on a boat with my very own Sylvia Plath. Any potential candidates can apply within....muses preferable but maids also welcome.
“And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath.”
- 'Sylvia Plath.' Ryan Adams
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
MM on Monster Magic....
Though my book, the Elephant Orphanage, has yet to see the light of day, the soon to be masterpiece already has a front cover. This image was created by my old friend Monster and is based on photos from the real life Elephant Orphanage taken on a fact finding trip to Sri Lanka with Muxloe a couple of years ago. (no sign of the photos of the women washing their family's clothes down river from where a whole herd of elephants was bathing and crapping!!!) Not only is it, in my humble opinion, a magic peice of art to grace the novel it also acts as inspiration and motivation for me to finish a first draft once and for all. Cheers Monster.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
MM on nowhere special.......
Today I'm doing some temp work....as I have been for the last couple of months. Consequently the Elephant Orphanage master-piece is somewhat on the back burner as reality bites and it turns out the life of a penniless would-be author is not as romantic in reality as the notion might suggest. Temping is a drag. In some ways its not too bad; it gets me out of bed in the mornings, stopped me going stir crazy, and my temporary colleagues are good fun, but on the whole its a drag. Especially on a day like today when the rain is falling and clock ticking oh so slowly. I'd rather be anywhere else than here today. Literally anywhere. All of which reminds me of one of my favourite endings to a film. Its the final scene of Blazing Saddles when the Waco Kid and Jim's escapades are over, their work is done and they're wondering what to do next.Waco Kid - where you heading cowboy?
Jim - nowhere special.
Waco Kid - (pause)...nowhere special....(wistful sigh)....I always wanted to go there!
I know what he means. Whats your favourite ending to a film?
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