Bikes and Tight bands

So many things so little time..... before I'm questioned about not doing "proper" work and blogging instead.. but here goes..

Hmmm yes, I have bought myself a new bike.... and yes its the expensive BMW one. Not too expensive as its second hand... sort of. Has 255 miles on the clock and was a BMW Staff bike. I collect it tomorrow.

Also my Dad has had a heart attack.... well, he's had two, one last Wednesday but no-one believed him then another on Friday. My Niece said "he's been rushed into Middlesbrough Hospital"..... I don't know whats going on in the NHS but I'm unable to see how someone can be "rushed" to a hospital that's over 35 miles away..... especially as there's a perfectly good hospital 10 miles down the coast in Hartlepool....

Anyhow, he's sort of OK, he's due out of hospital today as they have de-coked his arteries and told him to cheer up...... or something like that....

Oh, and before someone else says it I will...... The new bike was ordered BEFORE the owld fella was ill.

Anyhow, I thought this tune was kinda appropriate in the circumstance...... ok, perhaps inappropriate, but what the feck I'm going to hell anyway

Dead Miners Boot

Dead Miners Boot, originally uploaded by Delmonti.

I know I know, another cop out posting. There are things going on, but I just cant be arsed to post them....... Hmmmm.. Ok then, here's a short rundown.

Firstly, I should explain the photo. In my new photographic interests I'm collecting dead (discarded) gloves and shoes, and here's my latest..... Well, it was from a few years back but still counts.

New bike possibility: I've test ridden, of all things, a BMW.... The K1200S to be precise. Nice bike with unique features but not as powerful as the Blackbird and at £13000 it's bloody expensive....

Sorry this was supposed to be short, here goes...

Had to replace the sprockets and chain on the 'bird - £400
Shocks on the 'bird are shagged, Honda want £500+ (not gonna happen)
Bike Insurance is due - £200+
I'm having delusions of living a happy peaceful life with the woman of my dreams - so I've joined a dating site, the lack of interest is quickly returning me to my natural state of mind...... that and extreme self abuse.
I've been out in the countryside walking - thanks to Pooch who can read a map for the best routes that pass pubs with decent ale.

ps: I dont think there was a miner attached and burried under that boot.....

Fiddy cent...... thats 42 too many

News has come informing me that after all these years my talent as a drummer has finally paid off. I can now hold my head up in the presence of the greats..... I can now be classed as a "professional" musician.

You may remember a while back I "helped" out in a band.... and in the confusion recordings were made and they ended up being digitally minced and lightly sprayed with a mixture of CDIF and Miracle Grow and found their way onto iTunes and other purveyors of lug candy.

Well, it would seem that "our boat has come in" in for form of our first Royalties payment. The band has the dubious task of having to split the sum of...... eight cents.

I say dubious as I'm unsure how to split 4p amongst five people without causing a rift....... now, during the 80's I had an old jam jar full of 1/2P pieces...... I know it wouldn't solve the sum, but we could split fairly and send the remainder off to charity.... if I had a loft I'd check there first.

Dead Shoe at Virginia Waters

Dead Shoe at Virginia Waters, originally uploaded by Delmonti.

Found this kids shoe impaled on the entrance gates.... no doubt as a warning to other renegade wandering souls as to the fate held in store should they be found again.

It's not all 50 degree lean angles

Oh.... it's been awhile then.

I think the last 2+ years of blogging was more to do with Tramadol than it was about me. Since kicking the habit I've felt a definitive decline in spewing forth meaningless drivel..... its a small price to pay for a more levelled existence.

The Hip: is now more or less fixed. I was out in the garden playing badminton with Em after doing a 2 mile walk to see the bluebell woods in Hatchlands Park (pictures here)

Last weekend was my first real bike tour since the op. A 4 Day tour of Devon with an average of 200+ miles a day (no straight roads in sight)..... and it was marvelous! (Pictures here)

So I guess this is probably the start of the slowdown with blogging. No doubt there'll be the odd one or two posts, but nothing like the flood from the past...... unless it all goes horribly wrong of course.

Sandals not recommended

"Doing the shitkickers waltz"

No lights and a "Park" at one end can only result in either a mugging or a shoe full. A perfect venue for Strictly (celebrity) Come Dancing I think.

are you the gatekeeper?

These gates were found on my daily walk to work, praying to be unlocked?

Ballet & Brownies

I found this sad and lonely soul struggling to cross the road this morning,,,, still dragging its long dead comrades

Who me? I'm doing fine thanks.

I was wide awake at 5am this morning. No reason for it, just was.

I'll still be late for work tho'.... I say late, but the only person concerned seems to be me, so I'm not sure that counts.

I have this urge to walk into work, but there's a drawback. It means I have to stay "at work" during lunch, and I sort of need that hour to remove myself from the building..... it's like a cleansing... as this place makes you feel mentally "dirty" and the people suck the very soul from you.

All last week I solved this by driving into work, then at lunch time driving home, having lunch then walking back to work. It worked out quite well, although there's no benefit to the environment as I still pump out gallons (or should that be liters? or tonnes?) of CO2 from driving the car....... but hold on....... that's right....... I couldn't give a flying fat fuck about the made up shit about our next "end of the world" crap.

Do you remember the 70's when the last drop of oil was months away? or perhaps the Acid Rain killing off all of our oxygen giving forests? Still not enough? Don't forget the hole in the ozone layer which will mean radiation poisoning on a global scale. Did I mention Aids? or perhaps Bird Flu, and what about Super TB, and don't even think of eating a cows spine!

Yes, all crap. Believed by gobby women and blokes who want to get into their knickers or make a buck or two from it.

Just for the hell of it I'm gonna leave all the lights on in the flat today and turn on as many devices at work as I can.

I've just read that back...... must be Monday.

Two new tunes that have made me smile....

and "by the power of Grayskull" do I need it right now.

Here's the first, which is probably more predictable if you know me...

Tankus the Henge's "Smiling makes the day go quicker" (it's their MySpace site, check on the music player for the track... Thank to Mr Hunt for this suggestion)

....and then there's this... Neon Neon "I Lust U" and it's something I should not like..... but I do!

....and only because its funny.

Just how many dimensions does this world have? I'm not on about the current theory of the Universe, string mechanics or 'brain dimensions. I'm talking about the state of peoples minds and how we change at different rates in relation to others..... and on occasions chemical imbalances either prescription induced or recreational.

Talking of mad bastards and chemically induced states I'd just like to confirm that at this moment in time I have nothing against Simon. (Simon is a mate from another time (space and interface) that has in the last few weeks become a figment of my reality). In fact, I think he's a bit of a lord. No really, as I sit here soaking up a cocktail of Tramadol and Citalopram with a hint of Miles Hunt's "Note to self" filling the air with it's own "string vibrations" I can only admire Simon's current position within society and contributions made.

So, Simon, stop being a bit of a cock, no-one is taking sides (ok, I might be, or could that be paranoia?).

Come on, get ya finger out (no pun intended) and have some Brother Lee Love. I understand you have difficulty playing the guitar nowadays, although I'd doubt I'd notice any difference, but don't let that encourage me. You could always join in on all the other fine things us middle aged fat and baldy bastards would like to get up to but cant anymore.

After all, some of us will be dead soon.

Love, Light and Happiness (found printed on the arse end of life..... of course)

Massage with Vosene

Back to work:

Hmmm. I have to go back to work on Tuesday. Have To. I don't know anymore if its me or work that find those 8 hours so poisonous..... To be honest I do know. It's those people.
This last week I've found thoughts drifting to future confrontations with what can only be described as the cast from Sesame Street.

The often shouted response to my predicament is "find another job then".... and that's when the 25 years of working class pre-programming by the black suited bean counters bootstraps itself deep within my subconscious and I spew out another excuse not to get off my 3 buttocks and go do it....... procrastination? well, not completely, I have grown a beard and bought some Granola..... I may even end up smoking a pipe and start a leaflet campaign

It used to be a pleasure finding a problem. It meant I could do a better job, improve something, maybe even stop a potential catastrophe.... and always with the satisfaction of someone saying "Nice..... well done".

Now, finding a problem will more often than not result in a large lump in the corporate carpet and see the erection of a hanging jib in the car park and a cry from the ivory tower of "Release the dogs!"

The only way to survive this is to play them at their own game....... but I'm just not interested in this sideways move of priorities. I'm an Engineer not a political smoozer. I really don't need to gather evidence and work to their badly worded, contradicting rules just to prove they are awful people without soul, morals or a purpose other than themselves.

Is that admitting defeat? I guess to them it's a total victory, another thorn removed from their collective flanks.

Oh.... bollocks. Who am I kidding, this kinda stuff is gold to me. If it was all sweetness and light you'd be somewhere else reading other unfortunate blogs and I'd be deep in a world of self importance and smug satisfaction...... Hmmmm, yes, I'd much prefer to be sitting here gobbing off about some pointless shite I have no control over.

Rant over. I can feel my tramadol loosing its effect....... I must return to "Under the hammer" on BBC1....

Name that cover art

Do you think this image was the inspiration behind that Vinyl cover art?

Ardvreck Castle

Come on Goober, name that Single/Mini LP and band...... actually, if you know me then you already know that there's less than a handful of Bands it could be.... ok, perhaps just two then.... and it doesn't look like something shot in Birmingham....

Narrower than an IBM managers imagination.

Arse.

Horden Pit

Two miles south from Easington Colliery in Country Durham is Horden. Just another East Durham pit village. It's still there, in name. Changed beyond recognition... not particularly its layout and environs, but it's people.... and that goes for almost all of the east Durham pit villages.

Sometimes when I think of the people I grew up around, the community and its characters I can hardly believe it's all gone.

"The profit's too small for the black suited boys"

So, I found a documentary on the closure of Horden Pit in the mid 1980's. It gives a fairly good insight into what was lost...... and there was a lot to loose.

It's in 4 parts, the quality isn't too great and will probably only interest the northern contingent of this blog....... Here's the first part, other parts will be links under the video player.

Click here for Part 2

Click here for Part 3

Click here for Part 4

Are your whites as white as mine?

It's not the first time I've heard of this report. Apparently my old home town is the "whitest place in England and Wales"**

That's some claim. There were not a lot of different colours going on from what I remember.... The only black faces seen were from shift changes at the pit and "Love Thy Neighbour" on ITV. Since the early 90's and the closure of the pit that statement no longer applies......... and I'm too scared to watch Love They Neighbour just in case.....

So.... no blacks, no Irish, no Polish, no Asians, no Scottish, no Africans, no Welsh, no French, no Germans, no Inuit...... just us white, working class types..... with a fantastic Chinese Take Away.

Has being ethnically un-diverse made me a racist? Well, probably, but not in the context of your definition of a racist. Just because I can do maths and understand statistics and therefore wont go walking about in Hackney after dark dosent mean I'm racist, it simply means my god (at times) is the law of averages.

The long walk to school

** Just out of interest......... are ginger people counted in with the "whites" or "non whites"?

Demos

There's a bunch of demo's from the studio sessions I helped out on over here.

Below is some images I managed to grab and stuff into a small video. Identities have been emphasised to help locate perpetrators.

10 years and me....

Sitting on ya arse with nothing much to do has always been an incentive for me to become creative. In recent months/years it's been with the still camera, but occasionally, I have been known to fanny about with the camcorder.

Usually this has been around my "brother-from-another-mother" Goober, when he's been either gigging, rehearsing or maybe the odd road trip.

So. I dug out the "Simon Wood shagged this Video" DVD which I compiled in 2003 from a weekend trip to Cambridge in 1998 where we (Goober, Simon, myself and not forgetting Pete Moore) hired a studio for no other reason than to celebrate 10 years since the last time we were actively in a band.

So it's 10 years on. Lots of things have changed. I no longer have to imagine what it must be like to work alongside The Wonder Stuff, nor do I feel the need to ignore Mr Wood..... maybe I need to explain.

Mr Wood and I seldom got on (he's the guitarist.... actually, do any drummers and guitarists get on?), lets just put it down to a personality clash.... He probably had one and I didn't.... or something along those lines. Anyhow, I've not spoken to the fella since August 1998, and I think it's worked out just fine but I'm always open to new experiences and if anyone from "Edd Smash & The Dinosaur Wangs" wanna do a 20th anniversary get together then I guess I'll be up for it....... I even know of a decent rehearsal/studio.

I digress..... I sat down yesterday morning, and played the DVD "Simon Wood Shagged this Video". I was quite surprised how good the "shagged" bits were, even more surprised how funny the The Wonder Stuff piss takes were and just a little impressed with Goobers "Miles Hunt" impressions.

So, here they are, warts and all.

Pete Moore: Rhythm method guitar
Goober: Bass, Vocalist, songwriter and Vehicle delivery operative
Simon Wood: Lead Guitar, antagonist and shagger of videos, accommodation
Dave Dawson: Drums, gobshite, cameraman

My first day back in the flat didn't exactly go to plan. It's only now I feel sort of OK to get anywhere near the PC.

There's no mincing words here, this is painful. It's not the hip itself, to my astonishment the constant grinding pain I've had for the last 4 years has gone........ sorry, just reading that, and feeling that has me almost in tears...... pull yourself together man!... its the muscles... and not just the ones in my leg. My entire center region, back, and right leg is murder as I'm compensating for being partially turned inside out. My left thigh with its two large drain holes and foot long incision isn't exactly in party mood either, but that should have calmed down within a few weeks.

So, after getting rather frustrated last night with pain, things being outta reach, other things getting in the way I managed to lob several items around the room before limping very slowly to bed where I spent the next 3 or so hours asleep. Unfortunately, the dreaded night sweats made short work of any sleep and I ended up back in the living room feeling useless, tired and awake again...... but as a better man than me once said.... "and the sun that beats on the window, in the morning, is a doorway"**

Another reason, which I knew was coming but has been conveniently ignored by the medical people (I'm not apportioning blame here, it was all my own doing) is the withdrawal from my one time saviour Tramadol. Having JUST stopped reading some reports of prolonged use of Tramadol and subsequent withdrawal symptoms I think a trip to the Doc is advised sooner rather than later..... Night sweats, joint pain, sleeplessness, depression, mood swings, rapid beard growth and speaking in tongues have been reported.

This all could look like I'm already after another debilitating excuse not to get myself pulled round. Maybe it is, but I'm not clinically qualified to interpret my ID, or even to remember where I saw it last.

So, in good old Dawson fashion I'll retreat to my old reliables who have helped deal with the mental assault courses I've ran in the past...... Mr Hunt, Mr Scobie and Mr Adamson, stage right if you please.

All that..... I'll be fine once I've had a Kebab.


** Stuart Adamson, Big Country, "Seven Waves Away"

Thank you.....

Ok, I'm writing this from my hospital bed, morph'ed up to the eye balls 'cos the Physio wanted me to play hopscotch....

No not really, just standing is enough right now.

I'm no longer tethered to a couple of Tesco's carrier bags and tubing draining what seems to be a rainbow of coloured liquids from me. The catheter was hardly noticeable when it was removed, but when they pulled the drains outta my leg I swung for the nurse...... at lest I would of if I wasn’t screaming uncontrollably and biting my way through several sheets and a mattress.

But that’s all over with now, I just have to concentrate on learning to walk again.... The physio is thorough, which matches my determination to get the new hip working again.... but it does take its toll. Just standing takes every bit of strength I have, at the same time I'm trying to block the pain and not think about the prosthetic sheering off (it can happen) and leaving me with shards of bone sticking through my thigh.

I know that’s all sounds rather depressing, but the nurses here a lords and are quite happy putting up with my rather different approach to healthcare...... or anything really.

I have to say a very large thanks to Pooch and John for keeping me entertained and supplied with bits and pieces..... Emily came in yesterday to see me, although you could see she wasn’t too happy seeing me like this, but it made a colossal difference to my mood.. So, thanks to Gary for driving both Sue and my little fruitloop in to see me, very much appreciated.

and a massive thank you to all the people leaving messages on this blog, sending txts and phoning me, sometimes I forget there are genuine people out there who care.

I think I'm ready to zonk out again, physio is back in a few hours to point and laugh......

Oh well never mind then.

Sushi'ed

Monday 18th February.

Is fast approaching. This will be the day I get my hip resurfacing done. Hurrah!

Of course I'm not looking forward to.... errrm, well...... a multitude of wild and mostly unpleasant experiences. Of course it's all for the greater good, but it simply wouldn't be ME if I didn't stick the knife in (pun intended) and grind away at the bits medical professionals put in the file marked "This may be a little bit uncomfortable Mr Dawson".

Now, lets get this phrase into context. "This may be a little bit uncomfortable Mr Dawson"

A quick Google for "Uncomfortable" pulls up this definition:

providing or experiencing physical discomfort; "an uncomfortable chair"; "an
uncomfortable day in the hot sun"

Yes, that's it, an uncomfortable chair or a day in the hot sun.. That would be my definition too. Which makes me wonder just what the feck these doctors are sitting on at home and how often they are holidaying in Death Valley.

There's just no mention ANYWHERE of jamming a tube up ya japs eye then inflating a large balloon inside your bladder...... Nor the mental anguish and anticipation of being wide awake when its removed. It's just something I don't equate to sitting on a lumpy sofa. I would imagine the orderly who drew the short straw (pun not intended) would agree.




Another "uncomfortable" situation the doctors would like me to experience is walking the length of the room just HOURS after being filleted, drilled, rivited, welded, knifed, stabbed, stapled, stitched and punched until unconscious. They say it's to get the circulation going again, but I would suggest the blood sodden dressing and the rivulets of claret matted with my leg hair would be evidence enough my circulation is coping fine.

All this while screaming like a girl for my mother is not something I'd ever imagine doing after a day in the Hartlepool Sun.

Anyhow, I'd just like to take this opportunity to let people know that should I kark it on the table all my worldly goods and numerous insurance policies should be used to pay off my debts and the left over be put into trust for Emily....... The rest of the Dawson family can get knotted, I know that sounds ungrateful, ignorant, uncaring and selfish but does reciprocate the general attitude experienced over the last 15 years.

Obviously, that's not gonna happen, so If you are reading this Sis/Bro/Dad then instead of getting all "How very dare you" on me just think on who's got the most healthy kidneys for transplant should you need one.

This could be the very last entry before my Op..... or ever. So, if you're still reading this, and have NEVER commented before then please leave a message... you don't even need to sign up to anything, just leave it as anonymous.

Love light and happiness.

David...