A hero passes
Due to evil orc foot. I had to phone Mum and Mas to cancel our visit. Instead Lorraine and I stayed in the bedroom, me with leg horizontal and the French Windows open and the cats looking down on the seagulls. So, when not trying to walk, which was excruciating, really rather a nice day with Lorraine talking about tables and life and watching her do her new Pilates stretches on the bed.
Spoke to Mum again later and listened to a radio adaptation of Hawksmoor she had recommended. It's quite a complicated book so adapting it for a 2 part, one-hour-a-piece job was always going to be hard. Remember really liking the book though. We also watched the final Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell on my laptop. Excellent series. Mum later forwarded pictures of sheep with telephone heads, that Joan had sent her.
Sad to hear that Chris Squire, legendary bass player with Yes, had died. I have few heroes, but he was a massive one to me in my teens and was always my favourite member of my favourite group. I've seen him play live perhaps six or seven times in my life. The best one was when the Tobster and I went to see Yes at the Wembley Arena (then known as The Empire Pool) in October 1977 on their tour for the album Going for the One. A fantastic show, with incredible laser lights and we had great seats near the front.
Squire was wearing a distinctive harlequin style suit. I worked part-time as a floor housekeeper in the hotel next to the venue and the day before as I was checking a room that was almost completely empty, opened the door of a cupboard and Squire's unmistakable stage clothes hanging in a wardrobe. Falteringly, I touched the great man's trousers and left, wishing he'd been there to say hello to. His bass playing was sublime, majestic, melodic and full of a pagan power. He was born in Kingsbury where we lived when I was a teenager, and sang in the church choir of St Andrew's church, which I used to look at wonderingly from the 83 bus that took me to school. How could Kingsbury spawn such a cosmic guy?
Spoke to Mum again later and listened to a radio adaptation of Hawksmoor she had recommended. It's quite a complicated book so adapting it for a 2 part, one-hour-a-piece job was always going to be hard. Remember really liking the book though. We also watched the final Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell on my laptop. Excellent series. Mum later forwarded pictures of sheep with telephone heads, that Joan had sent her.
Sad to hear that Chris Squire, legendary bass player with Yes, had died. I have few heroes, but he was a massive one to me in my teens and was always my favourite member of my favourite group. I've seen him play live perhaps six or seven times in my life. The best one was when the Tobster and I went to see Yes at the Wembley Arena (then known as The Empire Pool) in October 1977 on their tour for the album Going for the One. A fantastic show, with incredible laser lights and we had great seats near the front.
Squire was wearing a distinctive harlequin style suit. I worked part-time as a floor housekeeper in the hotel next to the venue and the day before as I was checking a room that was almost completely empty, opened the door of a cupboard and Squire's unmistakable stage clothes hanging in a wardrobe. Falteringly, I touched the great man's trousers and left, wishing he'd been there to say hello to. His bass playing was sublime, majestic, melodic and full of a pagan power. He was born in Kingsbury where we lived when I was a teenager, and sang in the church choir of St Andrew's church, which I used to look at wonderingly from the 83 bus that took me to school. How could Kingsbury spawn such a cosmic guy?
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