So Stacey Jackson my close personal rocker-mum friend text-mails up and invites me over to write with her plus her close personal pop-star friend, then reveals it's a lady called Plavka - yeah, there's not many by that name, certainly in SW7 or 3 - well I'm guessing there's a few more in Croatia anyway.
Google disclosed a few snippets when I put her name in.
Plavka is married to a friend of Rupert de Borchgrave, and I'd met the husband dahn the Phoenix last summer, when he was sharing a pint with Henry Jackson and I was drinking with Rupert: WHO'S 40th BIRTHDAY IT WAS YESTERDAY WHEN WE WERE COMPOSING!
Ok, that's not entirely impossible or improbable, importable or improssible, but it was kind of weird... ANYHOW!... Stace, Plavka and I tried a few things out and came up with something that made 2 of my pupils (and their mother) down in Wandsworth Common, come running back into the room after their lessons with excitement when I started playing it. Admittedly Mum didn't come running, but they all asked for me to play it again, and it's been buzzing around my head and guitar strings for the past 24 hours.
Stace and I buzzed a few lyrics suggestions back and forth, but I've been composing a spoof version based on comments from Wandsworth Common pupils...
"I don't know if I wrote this song
but if you think you like it then please sing along
Even if it's Britney, it wouldn't be wrong
But Mama says I'm singing tonight..
"I don't know how the chord structure goes...
(then something about powdering noses and
the producer having a couple a couple of guys that he knows...)
"So Mama says I'm singing tonight!"
I hope it's a hit. I might do a version of the spoof (ie. the lyrics above!) onto youtube, anyhow...
Funeral yesterday for young father (57 ish) at St Ann's. Took the attached photo of the Organ loft Cross in the morning sunlight.
A lot of tuesday was spent wrestling with computer gear and recording various youtube offerings which I plan to drip feed to the t'web (when I get a chance). Tried hard to get my broken camera replaced at Jessops but the Manager (a hot coal blessing upon you madam and your products) wasn't shifting. I was placated by nice young man called Justin who actually knew what he was talking about. (Not me... repeat: not me.) Looks like Santa Nicholas will be visiting the camera shop. Again.
Ended up buying from Graham at Drumshack (honestly: I needed it!) a new-to-me electro acoustic classical guitar with electric pick ups. Oh, yes, and a rainbow guitar strap. And a keyboard case. IT WAS A TENNER AND NEW THEY'RE £60! The keyboard case that is.
(How could I resist...)
Well, the truth is the whole point of having a portable keyboard is that I can take it places and it's already got a date up the road at the Sun pub for poeming and carol singing, and any future Literary Lunches will take on a new character if we're with keys. I'm told that, as a musician, I'm allowed to buy these sorts of things.
Mr Whit joined Aviary and I for a post-church breakfast at Esca this morn. Ramuna, the waitress muse, who's name means Daisy in Lithuanian (I think) and who told us why she's called as much, was looking very museful. Milo dropped in for supper last night (well, a selection of greens that is and some iron) and we wrestled with the Apple and memory sticks. Indomitable and I chatted.
It's Medici Choir shortly, and I'm orf to Covgar to rehearse our B minor and Christmas Oratorio offerings for the 60th Anniversary concert on the 10th December. (At St Sepulchre without Newgate at 7pm.)
Mum and Dad's wedding anniversary is today; wisdom suggests I should refrain from saying the number, but it's a good figure...
We had a pre-anniversary celebration dinner on Tuesday joined by Rindle McDindle and the cast of Eastenders and Holby (Hmmm.) Jack Russell Harmer got a special 2nd walk. Bless.
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