"They call it Stormy Monday
-- Tuesday's just as bad..."
but Sunday's usually a busy but tedious Factory day in Africa and places where politicians decide that while the "Christian" world rests, they will spout ... and spout...
Amid such turgid tripe, a little of which news agencies sadly have to inflict on the world, real stories happen too.
Sunday's the day when people seem most inclined to let you in on their ... well, somebody's taught me to call it "psycho-babble".
Though I'm done with psycho-babble myself, these distractions come in handy when I remain stuck with the screenplay I've now dared mention.
They also stop me from doing the silliest thing in the world, which would be to pick up a 'phone or send a mail to say: "Help. I miss you!"
But I do miss her.
Especially on dull damp Sundays when she's busy.
A still disappointed American stuck out her tongue at me at work for saying I'd finally bothered to read all the analyses and statistics and discover that "you may not like it, but it seems to me that this time round Bush got in without cheating."
This made me ashamed for bothering to blog anything about that dismal election while failing to put in a word for John Peel (BBC master site), who left a legacy so much more important and lasting after his sudden death on October 25 than I trust that other man will.
A number of Brits had their say at 'Drowned in Sound', while Stereolab this week joined numerous bands of our "modern times" to put a word in ('ChartAttack').
One look at my CD collection puts me among the millions tuned in to what was happening in the musical world from as early as I was able to stay up late enough to listen to Peel's shows. In the weeks since he died, however, I've been astonished to discover how much he was respected and loved this side of the Channel.
The French music press -- the kind of music we used to call "progressive" back then -- has been full of excellent write-ups, obits, anecdotes, dusted-off interviews and, above all, letters of mourning and thanks from Peel fans outside the UK.
If you go a-Googling or better, you'll find the same is true in a host of languages I scarcely know.
So there you go, my sometimes Hindu friend. Yup, you, the one who wanted another blog piece tonight.
As for my opening words, well, even Marianne agrees that "Daddy's oldies are goodies".
The only way to take my mind off missing my other favourite baby this bloody Sunday morning as I went into work was to attack my cranium from both eardrums with 'Colosseum'.
Live.
Energy. Raw. Exhilarating. Fun.
You'll never hear me telling the Kid "they don't make them like they used to," but just occasionally, it's nice to be able to say, "Sweetheart, you don't know what you missed!"
It seems she might find out, since there's a reunion DVD I won't be able to resist.
Since she knew something of who Peel was long before October 25, I guess she must know what she, too, owes him.
7:46:17 PM link 
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