Something For The Wee... Not Really

Sorry Dave… I got nothing for you today ‘cause I’m crazy busy playing golf at the moment (five days in a row this week) and can’t even find a minute to catch up with all the episodes of ‘Loose Women’ I’ve recorded. Got a similar schedule next week but will definitely be striving to restore normal service for you on Friday before the first of your many forthcoming big weekends.

You’d think I’d be able to sleep better with all this exercise I’m getting but birdsong and bright sunlight and late night kebabs all seem to be conspiring to mess with my slumber. This morning I awoke with a start because I thought I could hear the vegetables in my fridge singing Bee Gees songs. But when I went downstairs and opened the door to check, it was just the chives talking.

Anyway, have a great weekend and catch up soon.

Cheers, Edge

Something For The Weekend 49

Dear Dave,

How in the name of all that is holy and righteous with this tortured world are you doing mate? It seems like a lifetime ago since we last “broke bread” and “chewed the fat” together. If I remember rightly, it was that time in the pub when I was showing you the tender flesh of my dodgy knees and asking your advice about how best I should have them “seen to”, while all the time you were clearly suffering some ailment that made your eyes widen and caused drool to drip down your chin. Swine flu was it?

Things have calmed down a bit for me now that all the London Marathon shenanigans are over and done with (sh#t, I still haven’t updated that other blog… this weekend, I promise) and I’m well into my new regime of sitting on my fat arse with my feet up and making it fatter with tubs of “frozen yogurt”. As a result, my knees feel great.

But it’s not all ice cream-based snacking and recorded episodes of “Loose Women”. The golf season is now in full swing (brrrummm, pummm, kscchhh), lambs are hopping around in the fields and all the boys are looking forward to your wedding day in early July to find out if you plumped for the pink silk cravat rather than your Russell Crowe Gladiator outfit. Personally, I hope it’s the latter so that when the minister asks if anyone has any objection to your blessed union, I can yell, "Damn right, unleash hell!"

You’re probably in the midst of a lot of wedding decisions at the moment but if you manage to find some time in between organising your antiquing stag weekend in the Lake District, here’s some brief cultural stuff I’ve encountered recently that might be of interest.

Music
I’m really enjoying the new Doves album ‘Kingdom Of Rust’. Good songs, well written and performed. Pretty much all I’m looking for in a record really.

In contrast, I’m having a hard time with those Fleetfoxes boys despite the enthusiastic recommendation of our mutual friend Blousie. He told me their music was “a rich warm tapestry of soaring melodies and vocal harmonies that will bring joy to the soul and help end global poverty by making all the planet’s children hold hands and stick daffodils, or similar bulb-based foliage, down the barrels of the guns of all the warmongers of the world”. But to me they sound a lot like those chanting monks from a few years back and I had to turn it off when I thought they were going to break into the theme tune from Bagpuss. An acquired taste, no doubt.

Gigs
I know you’ll be getting very excited about your excursion to see Take That in Glasgow next month (tickets due in very soon) but the big gig before then is the chance to see Central Scotland’s premier music combo, The Signals, at Firkins bar in Falkirk next Thursday, May 21st. This will be a laid back, unplugged-type gig compared to more recent frantic rockin’ shows so look out your best Shetland jumper and open-toed sandles (NO socks! Please!) in case the band throw in their famous “heedrum-hoedrum-hey-nonny-nonny” folk stylings segment.

Movies
Last weekend I went to see “Star Trek”, the new Star Trek movie, and thought it was very good without being entirely blown away by too many jaw-dropping, ‘wow’ moments. The action was impressive and Simon Pegg’s Scottish accent was passable but as you well know Dave, when you embroil your plot with too many “who the f#ck’s messing with the space time continuum?” twists and turns, you’re asking for trouble. Made my brain hurt. Thankfully the lovely Uhura soothed it somewhat… she certainly had her phasers set to..*ahem*.. stun(ning)… brrrummm, pummm, kscchhh…

Televison
“Flight of The Conchords”: Find it on BBC4 and discover for yourself the joys of surreal New Zealand comedy and Allan Hendry Band-type musical genius. It’s eebsolutely feenteestic.

Anyway Dave, I hope you’re well and not stressing too much about the wedding. Come the big day, as long as you’re on time, calm, rested, sanitised, deoderised, moisturised, charming, funny, articulate, and remember everyone’s names, especially your bride’s… ‘ole whatsername… you’ll be absolutely fine.

Catch up soon.

Cheers, Edge

P.S. Will I need my Paul Smith dinner suit and matching man bag in the Lake District?