Thursday, 30 January 2014

Cool Tunes, School Days, Awfl Performances & Book Covers

Does anyone remember Starbuck?  I'm not talking about a singular for the coffee shop chain, or the character from that lamentable 'Star Wars' rip-off 'Battlestar Galactica'.  I'm talking about a band from the 1970s (as I often do, admittedly).  They had this tune in the late 70s called 'Moonlight Feels Right'.  It's a really laid back, cruisy, and somewhat cool number.  To me the music evokes images of a deserted beach in twilight (not the vampire-centric franchise with ultra-icky Rob Pattinson): a pleasant atmospheric temperature, and I imagine sipping a glass of crisp wine.  And this song has a super-funky vibraphone solo, a feature of which there is just not enough in today's music.  I listen to it and cannot imagine ever being worried about anything.  I might listen to in in a minute, to allay any worries I might have.  I know I posted previously my nerves about my husband's interview about his eligibility for DSP, but I'm trying to be calm.  We still don't have an answer.  I have a theory about government departments: the clerks have to go through at least three departments before they can even go for a crap.


On Wednesday morning, I watched my boy walk through the gates for his first day of high school.  His dad and I drove him there, in the hope some of his friends would be walking in, too.  They weren't there when we arrived, and my son stepped from the car and said, 'Boy, I'm nervous!'  I assured him he'd be fine, but was denied a hug before he crossed the road.  It's started already, this business of Not Being Cool To Hug Mum In Public.  And I was okay.  I fully expected to be howling like a dog shut in the laundry as I watched him walk through the school gate, but I kept it together.  His father, however, had to remove his sunglasses and dab at his eyes with a handkerchief.  And if I haven't boasted enough already, he's in the Opportunity Class for the academically gifted students.  It's so weird, you know: twelve and a half years ago I was handed a slippery little bundle with a rather concerned expression on his face, and two days ago I watched what had once been that tiny little thing walk through the gates to high school, starting a new phase in his life (and oh dear, if I kept it together on Wednesday, I'm now starting to unravel a little on the inside as I think about it!).


So, who else saw footage of Madonna and Miley Cyrus performing together?  Who else thought, 'Ah, puke!' when they looked?  Truly, what is the deal with Madonna's face?  Was it an overload of Botox?  Was it the troweled on white geisha war-paint?  The effect was truly shuddersome ('Hello, House of Wax?  Are you missing a really creepy exhibit?').  Madonna attempted some kind of stripper move down Miley's scrawny body, like a mummified she-thing trying to dry-hump a she-inbred.  Miley was wearing some powder=blue rhinestone-studded cowboy outfit straight out of the Village People's Clothes-For-The-Good-Samaritans-Bag.  I was expecting something pretty tacky, but it didn't look as bad as I thought it might.  I still recall Madonna's big on-stage pash with Britney Spears, so it was with much apprehension I looked at my television screen today.  And Madge, we all know your antics are designed solely to shock because you're trying to stay relevant, and detract from a singing voice that is almost textbook in its mediocrity.


Okay, now that school has resumed, so must my work on my novel-in-progress.  This will all happen on my day off next week after I go back to my job (I've been on hols).  I have been speaking with the graphic artist designing the cover of the soon to be released 'Silver Studs and Sabre Teeth'.  I had this idea of a silhouette of Marc Bolan.  He pointed out that this could just as easily be mistaken for Shirley Bassey.  I cracked up laughing and said I would defer to his expertise.  Yes, I don't want people to mistake Bolan for Bassey (as much as I like Shirley Bassey, too).  When I thought it over, I realised this silhouette idea of mine could also remind people of my older brother.  He's five years my senior and had some serious Marc Bolan hair happening when he was in high school!

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