Blogged out

A day of endless phone calls, press releases, follow up from a man who saw my name in the Sunday Express, bank checks, garden crises, fiscal worries, and a complete failure to take any exercise of maintain a low-carb diet.  So I think I shall just retire to bed with a copy of Menander - and start researching my famous talk that I'm giving at the festival.   S - another local poet said "how high-brow!" - but I responded that my brow was where it was because of chance, taste and circumstance - and as a result I did not know who the Oyster Band were (apparently only the most famous folk band in the UK - and have been for 25 years...) which is appalling ignorance.

I do have tremendous lacunae - I love folk music and the Oyster Band sound great - but I haven't darkened the doors of a folk club since about 1978 and I seldom go to hear bands because they are so noisy - and well, I don't listen to music as much as I used to and often it's for comfort, or to cause discomfort - which is why I listened to Harry Nilsonn's Can't Live the other day when it was highlighted on FB, by one of N's chums - glad to know it still causes a frisson after 39 years.  I suppose it's like me liking Billy Holliday and Piaf when I was a teenager.

Why did I say I was blogged out?   Because I have just contributed yet another blog item about the Summer Squall to Stage Corner and am trying not to churn them out on PR auto-pilot.    Am I happy?  I am too busy to consider that question, a busy emotional ostrich.