Not exactly what I’d call a normal day. Starting with a call from Graham as he was waiting for a taxi to take him on the first leg of his journey down to Teignmouth and continuing with a stream of calls and texts between us as he kept me up to date with progress throughout the day and into the small hours, finishing with a call at 03:00 to let me know he was back in the caravan, all safe and sound. The highpoint of the conversations was when he called me during the concert, holding his phone in the air so I could hear the sound. No speaking during that call. Just sound. You can’t talk over that volume of sound.
It was good to be able to share the excitement. Oddly exhausting, though. Not physically of course but my spirit feels somewhat strained this morning.
After all the fuss trying to get a recording from the radio it turned out that the broadcast will be put out on the 7th. I did a trial recording during the evening, though, and it was successful, using the Audacity recorder. Success or not I still feel way out of my depth on the whole audio/mp3/ipod game and I don’t much enjoy using tools I don’t understand.
Not satisfied with just one concert, he’s bought himself a ticket to see the end concert of the tour, in the O2 arena (otherwise known as the Millennium Dome) in London, in November. That’ll be rather more fun because he’ll be back home long before then.
I’m not planning to do much today after my late night. I have a small pack of sausage rolls which I shall heat and eat along with a large tomato and an apple for my brunch. Then, like as not, a drowsy numbness will strike me and I shall take a trip to the banks of the Lethe.
~~+~~
over the hill
a gull cries
lonely in the sky
~~+~~
Although the concert experience is not one which has ever appealed to me, I “get” that it’s quite a thing for those to whom it does. It sounds as if Graham had a great time–and that you got as close as you cared to. Happy napping!
Perfect haiku John
When young I didn’t get opportunity to go to such a concert. When old I don’t care too, my hearing is going without it.
I love concerts, at a distance. The park at the foot of my street has concerts in spring and fall. I can hear the music just fine up on the hillside. If it’s too loud, I can shut the window. If I want to ‘see,’ I just walk down,- a short block. It’s the best of all possible arrangements, as far as I am concerned.
Hugs, ~ Sil in Corea
P.S. My computer died today. I’m on one at the “PC bang.”
I would rather listen to the CD and avoid the crush of thousands of people. Anyway, just thinking about finding and using the loo during all the commotion (and with thousands of people using the same facility) would be enough to deter me from attending a concert.
A CD, a glass of wine, a comfy chair, control over the volume, and proximity to my bed, are far more to my taste.
Home, my taste too. But maybe you can jackhammer yourself into going with him in November.
It all just becomes one huge blur of sound with nothing decipherable anywhere in it to me. I’ll rest my one remaining good ear for something more fruitful like hearing the message — “Come to dinner!:
I used to love going to concerts. There is nothing like the music going thru your bones. Unreal. My (then) 82 year old mother liked them too. Stood in line for 5 hours to see Wings, back in the day.
She used to say that if symphony orchestras could play like Led Zepplin there wouldn’t be deficits. We were backstage for the last Who concert in Oakland and the sight of my elderly mother chatting it up with the Clash was wonderful.
I think it is great that Graham shared the concert with you.
Forgot to mention it before, John, but that reaally IS a most excellent haiku, at least in my opinion, if that counts for anything.
A phase be both survived, thank heaven!
And I still remember only too well, having to shout at my son when he returned from a concert he’d been so deafened and his head was still ringing. Of course, it might not have been wholly attributable to the noise, soo — There WAS a strange odor clinging about him.