Weight a pie.

I went to a real greasy spoon cafe today for lunch.
I ordered a Hot Chocolate.
The waiter bought me a Mars bar and a match?

I have decided that I need to get something done about the damned tooth if the pain level reaches 7.
It got to 5.5 today so getting close now. I don't suppose it helped with a coffin banging against my cheek on a shoulder carry yesterday.

During my many, many years on this planet, my mind has been a hive of activity. I must admit my best ideas come when I have had a pint or two and it’s then that I am at my most creative.

Many years ago, I came up for an idea to reduce road rage. This consisted of a simple neon sign in the rear window where appropriate messages were flashed up by a remote control in the front of the car. You could display ‘Sorry’ if you had cut someone up. ‘Thank You’ if someone let you out of a junction. Or ‘ Sod off you inconsiderate git’ if someone had upset you. I submitted the idea to an inventions guru but heard nothing back. A few years later the gadget was available on line. (They had substituted the last message with ‘Please back off’!!!

Coincidence?????

I then was fascinated with sliding doors that opened when you approached them. I had the thought that the sensors could be used in a car bumper to sound a beeper if you were to close to an object. I submitted the idea to Toyota. Who in return sent a letter saying they had their own ‘in house team’ that worked in development. Lo and behold a year and half later the sensor was fitted to cars.

I will never know if I had any input in these ideas, but take great satisfaction that at least my mind was creative, albeit after 3 pints of Stella.

I worried about one split note on Sunday so it prompted me to search for some musical bloopers in front of an audience. One was Frank Sinatra forgetting his words live on stage. Unfortunately I only have this on DVD. I also remember Roger Whitaker forgetting the words in a live Concert and cringing when the piccolo trumpet player with the James Last Orchestra, completely botched the solo in the Beatles ‘Penny Lane’

But lets concentrate on a vocalist completely forgetting her words. The Band have to keep vamping until her brain cells kicked in.

You may smile, but at the end of the day it’s a bloody hard job, and musicians hurt for ages when they screw up.

It’s easy to sit and listen. It’s bloody hard to stand and play and with every solo put yourself up for criticism. But that is the ‘buzz’ of being a musician I suppose.