Once in a while, I'll have an accidental convergance of incidents that'll ignite the lightbulb over my head.

I'm currently re-reading Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland." Co-incidentally, I've been listening to a lot of old David Bowie.

Tonight, I was walking home from a pleasant evening in a bar, listening to some stuff on my MP3 player. One of the songs was Bowie's "Space Oddity."

I've always liked the lonely existentialism of this song. Listening along, I can fully realize the plight of an solitary individual facing an unknown frontier. (Bowie took a bit of a liberty by having only one astronaut -all of the Apollo missions had three.)

'This is Major Tom to ground control

I'm stepping through the door

And I'm floating in a most peculiar way

And the stars look very different today'

Taken literally, the protagonist has just encountered full on zero gravity for the first time, and witnessed an entirely new view of the stars from his perspective in space.

However, once those pot-addled, filthy hippies heard the song, they *interpreted* it to mean someone embarking upon a drug trip, -especially since Bowie has earlier stated in his lyrics:

"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on."

Obviously, to an only semi-rational "Love child" this must be a hidden message advocating drug use. It's quite apparent to anyone who's ever taken any kind of an hallucinogenic that one must always wear an helmet during the sustained event of a 'trip.'

Remember: Bowie released this song to coincide with the landing of the first man on the moon. Do you think he might have actually meant it to be about the forlorn solitude of space?

……….Then, there's 'Alice in Wonderland.'

Boy, the hippies really had a field day with this one. Jefferson Airplane (Not Jefferson Starshit of 'We Built this City on Rock and Roll' fame) built a career on the White Rabbit.

'Alice' just had to be about drugs. It's not possible that anyone could posess such a fertile, yet nonsensical imagination. Is it, doood???

Can you detect my sarcasm? I hope so.

What we have here, is nothing more than a bunch of dopes (pardon the pun) skimming the surface, and jumping to conclusions without looking at the bigger picture.

I'm reminded of those that rave "George Bush is an asshole."

Well…. that may be, but do you know why he's an asshole? Do you know how he came to be such an asshole? Can you comprehend why such an asshole got elected to a second term?

Most can't/don't

They, like the hippies, would rather have it nice and simple. "Bush is an asshole' is just some cheap rallying cry; much the same as saying -wink, wink, 'Space Oddity' is about drugs.

We're all in agreement here, but we don't know why. Or maybe it's just because someone told us so.

I've noticed a strange occurrence lately. Whenever I write a new song -specifically an instrumental- it always sounds like a fiddle tune, whether I play it on the guitar or banjo.

Not that it actually sounds like a fiddle, but in my mind, while I'm making up the melody, and other bits of the tune,  I'm sort of imagining fiddle licks.

I suppose that that's not too unusual considering that the fiddle was pretty much the dominant lead instrument in old time music for many, many years. It's loud enough to be played un-amplified at a barn dance, it's got no frets, and is played with a bow, which gives it the sustain and tone of the human voice. Sometimes, it really does sound like someone singing.

Then, I get to thinking 'why didn't I ever learn how to play the fiddle if I'm constantly hearing it in my head?'

I 'spose it's because the fiddle is not commonly known as a solo instrument to accompany the voice. I like to sing, and it seems to me that any time I've seen or heard a fiddle player who sings, they always stop fiddling when they do.

Mind you, there's probably a few out there who do -I just haven't heard them.

I love old-time fiddle music (obviously, that's why I find myself playing fiddle melodies on the guitar and banjo) and find myself listening to more fiddle junk than banjo stuff these days.

I'm not about to buy one and try to play it though. I'd just be setting myself up for failure. It took me decades of playing guitar just to get to what I thought was a competent level; and as for the banjo: I still consider myself to be a rank amateur.

Maybe I'll just pull all the frets out of my banjo, and start bowing it à lá Jimmy Page and his Les Paul.

Having recently spent a bit of time in England, I noticed a few instances of their famed behaviour.

They're much more polite than us. At least what I saw. And I'm saying this as a Canadian, who's used to hearing Americans tell him how much more polite we Canadians are……..

The famous English 'stiff upper lip' is still alive and well. It truly is a sight to behold. There's something quite charming -if not oddly surreal- about seeing two retired elderly gentleman dressed in jackets and ties, sitting on an uncovered patio, enjoying a couple of mid-day pints IN THE RAIN!

"Ghastly weather, don't you think, old boy?"

"Yes, quite so, quite so……." I heard them say as rain drops plopped into their pints.

The food is absolute shit, the weather sucks, they get their asses taxed to hell, yet they somehow manage to persevere. I think they secretly like it.

Latley, I've been reading book after book on the Napoleanic era; specifically famous battles on land, and sea. It's a phase I'm going through, o.k.?

What really strikes me, is that from time to time, I'll read a description of some English soldier gravely wounded, yet playing down their injury to an almost comical degree.

Here's a couple of good ones:

A midshipman, having had an arm blown off by a cannon ball, is instructed by the captain to visit the doctor on the decks below. "Not to worry sir," he relpies, "the good lord has seen fit to grace me with two arms. I'll tie off the wound, and continue duty."

An English infantryman during the battle of Waterloo caught out in the open, and recieving heavy artillery fire from the French: "Standing there, and being cannonaded, and having nothing else to do, is about the most unpleasant thing that can befall a soldier in a regiment." (Italics, and underline mine)

At The Battle of the Glorious First of June, Admiral Howe's ships are initially taking a dreadful pounding, which occasions him to state, in a rather droll monotone: "Blast. There seems to be something wrong with our ships."

Horatio Nelson himself stating: "Any man not under heavy fire, is clearly not at his post."

Keith Richards, after recovering from a battle with an overdose flatly commenting that "Now I know my body can handle anything."

My brother Andy summed it up nicely in an email to me a while back:

When you see how the British live, the food they eat, the simple, somewhat silly habits that constitute their daily lives, you're inclined to really underestimate them. But, as you point out, when you look at their history, the picture changes drastically. They may live silly little lives - work all week, drunk at the pub Sat-Sun, vacation in Spain, TV and that's it - but they like their silly little lives that way, and if that way of life is threatened, look out! It's no coincidence that they like to be compared to the bulldog. Slow to provoke, but once it get ahold of you it won't give up until either you or it is dead. Even the people who dislike them (and that means just about everyone in Europe) grudgingly admire them for that.

 Well put, old chap, what, what.

Here we are blasting out Dock Boggs' 'Country Blues' from our cd 'Long Walk To Nowhere', at the Southside Shuffle.

Whilst (I love that word) on holidays I took in many sights, and neighborhoods, etc., etc., but I didn't really get out to see much music. Hell, I don't even do that whilst here at home.

I usually rise early in the day whilst travelling, and subsequently crash fairly early, -usually around ten or eleven o'clock.

I did, however, accidentally see a few performers. You've seen them too….

Ever notice how often you see a group of South American guys with guitars, flutes, (or whatever the fuck those pan-pipe type pitch-pipes are) and maybe a couple of drums, playing covers of Eagles, and Beatles songs. 

Horrible, isn't it?

When I die, and go to hell, ("what, you mean there's somewhere worse than here Joe?") I'll be forced to listen to that shit whilst little red demons prod my ass with tridents for all eternity.

Pleasant thought, eh?

Now, the demons, I could probably tolerate, but certainly not those fucking Latin Beatles covers.

"Yesterday." "Hey Jude." "Helter fucking Skelter!" Christ!!! It's enough to make one want to cripple the nearest bystander, and maybe even throw rocks at an infant just for good measure!

Where the fuck do these guys come from?

Peru? Chile? Scarborough?

They're everywhere. I saw them on the streets of London whilst there. I saw them in Paris whilst there. I remember seeing them in fucking Helsinki whilst there nearly twenty years ago.

Maybe it's the same group of guys following me everywhere I travel….

Whilst in Paris, I ascended to the top of Montmartre via funicular, and a whole lot of uphill walking, to be able to sit on the steps and enjoy the beautiful panoramic view of the city below me.

I't's really a sort of touristy thing to do, and usually loaded with American, and European young people drinking beer, or wine, and hanging out together. I figured I'd get a couple of cans of suds and watch the sun go down over Paris.

Guess who was also up there?

BINGGG!!!! CORRECT!!!!! FOR A BILLION POINTS!!!!!

Guess who didn't stay?

BINGGG!!!!! CORRECT!!!!!!!  …..ANOTHER BILLION POINTS!!!!!!!

Jesus! They even had mics, and amplifiers to make sure that everyone everywhere could hear every note!!!

A useful description of the situation, that I picked up whilst in London would be: 'right fackin' 'orrible! There must be at least somebody who throws them a couple of coins from time to time, or they wouldn't be out there annoying me. 

The only way to combat this menace, is to stop giving them money. They sure as shit wouldn't be out on the streets of every city in the world, annoying us with their 'music' -and I use that term VERY fucking lightly- just for their own enjoyment. 

I'll bet you dollars to dime store jewels that they don't play this shit around the house for their own enjoyment. They probably hack out Van Halen, and Meatloaf covers…..

So remember: Please don't feed the pigeons. It'll keep us all from getting pelted with the audio equivalent of bird shit!

Just returned from my annual holiday. This year, it was London, Paris, and a few other stops in between, or in the near vicinity.

Taken from my notes -yes, I thought it would be prudent to keep a journal to refresh my 'holiday-spirited' brain- here's a review of the various museums and galleries that I based my trip upon. That is, other than the pubs!

The Tate Gallery, London

I really only visited the Tate to see the J.M.W.Turner pieces, and the couple of Francis Bacon works that they have there. I'm not that big of a fan of 20th century contemporary art, -other than a few select New York artists.

The beautiful building that houses the art is situated right along the Thames. It's almost as beautiful as some of the works that I enjoyed. Well lit, and not too overwhelming.

4/5

National Gallery, London

Truly a world class gallery -if not one of the best. Right up there with the Prado, and the Uffizzi.

Again, this gallery is not too overcrowded with works. One doesn't overdose on art as rapidly as with other Galleries.

Unfortunately, it loses a point for the annoying reflections on some of the art due to the poor positioning of the overhead lights.

4/5

The Imperial War Museum, Lambeth, London

Absolutely stunning. Brilliantly laid out. An fantastic example of how to display both small and large (tanks, fighter planes, etc.) pieces. Perfectly captures the stories and sentiments behind 20th century British conflicts around the world.

5/5

National Portrait Gallery, London

Well done, but again, suffers from annoying overhead light reflections. Also, a lot of the pieces that were highlighted in the guide book were absent. Probably on loan to other Galleries, or on travelling exhibits.

3.5/5

National Maritime Museum, Greenwich

Looked good, but couldn't stay long to see everything. Fuckin' 'ell!!! There was an 'orrible steel band in the foyer of the museum making such a racket that I had to rush through certain parts.

On assumption, I'll give it a 3/5

St. Pauls Cathedral, London

Not a gallery per se, but more like a gallery of the dead.

Horatio Nelson, The Duke of Wellington, Sir Christopher Wren are a few of the notables interred there.

It's £9.50 (about $20.) to get in -to a church, no less, but at least this affords one the opportunity to get ripped off in their souvenir shop. Hey…….. every church should have a souvenir shop.

I noticed fridge magnets of Lord Nelson on display right beside those of his mistress, Emma Hamilton. Apparently the church has no problems selling you junk depicting known adulterers, as long as they can make a buck. Try as I might though, I couldn't find a fridge magnet of his actual wife Fanny. I guess she's not worth the bucks.

I did, however, fork out £25.50 for a beautiful pewter beer stein engraved with the action of the battle of Trafalgar.

……every church oughtta sell beer steins!

2/5

Royal Naval Museum, Portsmouth, England

High marks for having actual ships you can enter, and tour. H.M.S. Victory (Nelson's ship at Trafalgar), H.M.S. Victory, etc., all lovingly restored to their original condition.

However, unlike London, where every gallery and museum is free, one has to pay admission to the RNM, as well as pay for each ride, I mean attraction. I only paid for the HMS Victory.

The exhibits in the buildings were superb.

4/5

Ze Loov-RUH, Paree

The most famous gallery in the world. Unfortunately, also the busiest. Inundated with American tourists who absolutely MUST see La Jaconde (The Mona Lisa), even though they don't understand why.

The first time I visited the Louvre, I was absolutely appalled at the rugby-like scrum in front of da Vinci's most famous piece. People shoved each other out of the way in an attempt to jockey into a better position to take a photo with their shitty little camera -even though there are signs everywhere telling you not to.

That's what a room full of assholes looks like.

Having been there before, I knew that I should get there early on a middle of the week day. I arrived at 9:30 on a wednesday morning, and the place was quite tolerable.

The only thing I can criticize the Louvre for is that it's too goddamned big. It would be a hell of a lot more user friendly if it was split into two, or maybe even three separate galleries.

4/5

La Musee D'Orsay, Paris

Impressionist art is another style that I'm not that big on. There is, however, an entire room dedicated to the works of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec. Spectacular!

5/5