When the day is gaaawwn, hold ooonnnn

How are you today? Everybody and their blogger seem to be moving to the new and improved Blogger, but (and I can't resist the terribly corny joke eminently for the picking here - sorry chumps) I do ask myself; is it really Beta? Okay, sorry. Bad humour aside, things are looking uppity here in Wild-boar-stream.

(this image courtesy of www.teichenberg.at)

Fended off my first door-to-door newspaper seller yesterday, which made me feel right at home (we used to have bajillions of them in Heidelberg on a daily basis). In fact, I almost felt sorry for the poor bloke for having heaved himself all the way up the seriously steep incline to our block of flats, just to be snubbed, I'm sure, by the entire inhabitancy of our house. I mean, hey, this is Swabia; we won't buy so much as a paperclip unless a) we're in dire, life-and-death sort of need of one and have already searched the entire house and harangued all our friends and family to no avail. And b) unless you can offer us certified, in-triplicate-writing lifetime-guaranteed proof that your offer is, in fact, THE bestestest available throughout the history of paperclip sales. Plus you've let us haggle the price down by 98 percent from your original quote. And are giving us a free thumb tack thrown into the deal as a sweetener. Then, and only then, we might just consider deigning your offer, provided we're in a good mood and believe a word of what you're saying. Which, given that 99 percent of German door-to-door salesforce are non-Swabians who've been imported specifically to do business from other parts on the Vaterland, is highly unlikely.

(this one's from www.frugalfun.com *shudder*)

So, my message to you today, sleazy and disreputable door-to-door sales people trying to flog Stuff The World Does Not Need in peace-loving Swabia is: Buzz off. Nah. Nuh-uhh. Fuh-geddaboudit. No blinking, tooting, rollerskating way whatso-nope-ever. There, that should do the trick. Happy to help, of course. Read and Learn.

(this one popped up at www.zen32721.co.uk)

Besides that, I don't really have much to show and tell today. University's going creamy oily smooth at the moment. Hmm - should I be worried? Admittedly, I haven't exactly set myself a gruelling schedule, but then that was the plan for this semester in first place. If there's one thing I don't ever want to repeat, it's the little breakdown I had earlier this year. No, thank you. Okay, have good remaining weeks, y'all! Cheerio!

Ooh la la, doowa diddy

Hello y'alls. Just a quick thing to say "happy start of the semester" to all of you who, like me, have begun or returned to the daily grind of university life today. And to point you to WebGamin's blog and, more specifically, his series of "Sandstone County" police-related humour posts. Okay, that wasn't exactly an elegant description, but follow the link to see what I mean. I thought it was a witty idea overall. Okay, have good weeks y'all, talk to you soon...

Put your hands up in the air

Hello. Feeling very... hard to say this evening. University is about to kick in again and I've been bustling around frantically (as always in such matters) to get my immat papers handed in. Tomorrow nite's the first official event I attend - yay! Itz about time to get into this whole caboodle again if I want to be making headway. Nagging self-doubt is, of course, my perpetual companion, as has been an old temptation of mine recently. Great! A friend of mine once said that, from a Christian perspective, if you're being challenged in what you're doing, then presumably that means the devil doesn't like your attitude and is trying to stop you. I'm trying to believe that right now, though it's taking some determination. Gnnn! (teeth gritted)

(this pic taken by the lovely folks at www.tuebingen-info.de, ja!)

What struck me dumb yesterday was the national headline story (here in Germany) about a fourteen-year-old boy having forced a younger girl into acts of child pornography, the evidence of which he then spread around among friends and classmates. Fortunately, somebody finally gave him away and the whole story became public. Dear God. I still don't know what to say. I have never felt such nausea at hearing of human behaviour. There seem so many questions, and yet fundamentally, how does anything really matter? I mean, yes of course, the kid's background needs exploring, potential trauma that could lead to such abusive behaviour must be uncovered, etc. But at the same time - who cares? I mean, just WHAT have we come to in this day and age? How on earth could something like that happen in the first place? There has to be an environment in which we, the public, might be inspired to commit such acts following other people's example. I don't believe the offending child (which, at fourteen, is all he is) was being original; I believe he was simply emulating what he had seen or heard of in other places. I mean, we signed up for membership at the local video store recently and, in the public access, no-age-restriction, non-adult section there was a DVD named "Snuff Attack" or similar, showing a naked woman tied and apparently in mid-being-abused on the cover. You don't even need to go to the "adults only" part, and yet we're surprised when kids, who will do whatever they're told not to just to rebel and create attention, come up with such horrific behaviour. What I don't understand is how anyone could be a humanist in fact of such behaviour. I know, I know - I've made this point before and, in fact, I would much appreciate discussing the point with anyone out there who's willing to make a stand for the fundamental goodness of mankind in face of such evidence. I'd be happy to be convinced, but at the moment, I simply can't see how one could not believe that we live in a fallen world and are fallen beings ourselves, in need of redemption if we're to produce good. Please don't hesitate to comment or e-mail me if you feel you disagree; I promise not to be a bolshy right-wing fanatic hell-bent on disproving your point. Honest. Bye for now.

Ha ha ha, hee hee hee, Eric the half-a-bee

This one clearly not off of www.sinfest.net, unfortunately

Hi folks, short middle-of-the-night post on a fave website of mine that I think I've never mentioned before in the blog. I really like Tatsuya Ishida's online comic strip "Sinfest". I do realise that a lot of the humour, language, etc. isn't the type of "PC" that would go down well at, say, a Methodist Pastors' Convention. However, I love two things about it; a) the sense that the author himself appears to be dealing with the day-to-day questions and maybe the quest for spirituality/the meaning of life/whatever the question for 42 was in the first place from a sincere and open-minded while humorous perspective. And b), the profound beauty that radiates from a strip every odd time I go and click on the site. No time or energy to elaborate or quote right now - just go over there and browse through the backlog until you find what I mean (over-anxious brothers and sisters in Christ may want to do so through squinty eyes and with caution)... Yay for Tatsuya Ishida! And good night...

Cover Combo Caveats No. 2

Ah. Oh. Sorry 'bout the triple post yesterday - sometimes Blogger gets a bit like dat scwewwy wabbit when it comes to uploading stuff. 'Pologies. Anway, itz time for Numpah Two in our merry little series of ramblings from the world of "Que Sera, Sera" and "Love Me, Tender". Here we go:

(this image courtesy of wallpaperbase.com)

Rule 2 "All-Singing-all-dancing" or "Talk Is Cheap": The only time it is permissible to speak to any given musician playing at your barmitzvahweddingahannukahdayfest is at the precise time when the musician in question is very obviously fully occupied playing music and couldn't possibly respond to your request/query/command. This is an old one, a fact I can remember noticing as a kid watching others play (long before I became a musician myself). No one seems to know why, but the only time someone will try to talk to you, the musician, will be at the exact time when you're, say, trying to improvise the perfect guitar solo over some tricky harmonies. Or, as happens invariably to myself, when I'm playing drums and singing lead vocal at the same time. Trust me, doing those two things alone is more than enough to have my mental capacities running on overboost (plus having all four extremities and my speech centre busy) and if there's one thing I could neither physically nor mentally perform, it would be listening to and answering whatever it is I'm just being told. The fun thing really is that without fail, people will access the one musician completely engrossed in what he/she's doing at any given time, not the guys sitting around them playing accompaniment/chilling out. I've seen it happen with saxophone players in mid-solo, bent double over their instrument with closed eyes and twitching arms. I've seen people approach beautiful female vocalists in long dresses precisely as they were launching into the high point of a ballad, head back, spotlight on, everyone's smitten except for the bride's mother, stage left in the wings with the question "will you be playing `The Days of Wine and Roses' later?" burning on her mind. The thing is, its so hard to know how to react. Ideas tested were:

(this image is from ninaspencer.com)

A) Ignoring the speaker; usually only leads to redoubled efforts and increased volume/facial redness/indignance, so that doesn't help.

(this one comes to you from cakeplow.com)

B) Trying to answer the question; impossible for the aforementioned reasons, even though some of the musicians I've worked with will try their very best, invariable delivering quite a performance in doing so. For example, have you ever seen a sax player try to speak out of the corner of his mouth while playing? It makes for some funny squeaks and squawks, I can assure you...

(this final one courtesy of cgi.ebay.com)

C) Doing a sort of Indian yes-no, "yeah but no but" motion with your head, then trying to deal with the problem/answering the questions after the song's over tends to be the only thing that works in my experience. Again, this may lead to hilarity among your band members as they laugh heartlessly at your plight and ungainly body motions, but hey, it definitely beats bringing the whole band to a grinding halt and facing the speaker directly. I remember doing that once in a band headed by one of Germany's best recorder players. He simply stopped us all in mid-tune and turned to the person with a suitably annoyed expression. You should have seen the crowd's reaction - I think I've never been so close to death by pitchfork stabbing or being throttled with bailer twine (it was a farmer's wife's birthday party, and her sister, the acting MC, was the questioner). So, don't go there would be my advice... We did manage to cheer things up again, though, with a selection of rousing tunes such as, well, "Those were the days", "I will survive" and, of course, "La Bamba". This brings me straight to another caveat, song choice and sequence, but that shall be saved for another post. Meanwhile, cheerio and keep rocking those wedding anniversaries, guys...

More of the same

Before I forget, here's the link to all the pictures I took of the trip down to Woking/Cornwall. Enjoy!

Well, I've got a brand new combine harvester

Hello! Achtung! Vorsprung durch Technik! All that. Sorry - been back to England/Cornwall for a bit. Always makes me fiercely patriotic and anglo-proud for a few days or so. And what a little visit it's been, too! Let's see... This is Fran the Van. He/she/it was my faithful steed for the journey to Blighty. My excuse for the road trip was helping Andy (pictured left) move most of his earthly belongings back to Woking in leafy Surrey whence he has returned after a six-year sojourn in the land of angst and schadenfreude. So, on Monday we set out to arrive here and unload stuff next morning. That done, we headed for Bristol (via Bath) and had lunch together with A's parents, after which I set off again down the M4 and A30 to Bodmin and the house of our wonderful friends Mary, Richard & Andrew. A lavish reception and a meal with friends Mark & Vicky thrown in as an additional bonus awaited. After which we got down to the more serious aspects of my visit; music! You see, there's a Hammond organ that has been waiting for me at Mary's house (where she also does B&B, by the way - check the link for more pictures) for quite some time now, and as I had an empty van and time to go, it would have seemed foolish not to use the opportunity. Of course, Richard, Andrew & I also got down to some playing together while we were at it. Keep those chicken eggs groovin smoovly, guys... Next morning was already time to wave a fond goodbye to the lake and, of course, to little Lilly, the adorable terrier puppy (seen here attacking a most vicious enemy, a shoe that had reportedly been sighted lurking suspiciously behind a sofa chair the night before, we're told). Unfortunately, this is also where my motivation to take pictures waned dramatically, so in summary, I bumbled my way back up the A303 (a frenzied shopping binge at Trago Mills notwithstanding), caught the redeye ferry back to Calais, slept for a few hours in a wind-swept seaside carpark, then headed home fuelled by croissants and weapons-grade French coffee. Brilliant! Okay, so there was some really nasty traffic shortly before home, but all in all, it was a most pleasant trip. Best of all, when I got home, t'internet was finally, finally working again! Oh, how I've missed my beloved broadband connection. So, now I not only am the proud owner of a cool and groovy Hammond, I'm also properly online again and can get stuck back into the business of blogging. Woo hoo! Well, I'll leave ye for now (without a riddle), cheerio and don't 'esitate to comment (unless you're some annoying bot from one of those 'orrible internet companies trying to flog Viagra, that is). Ta da!