Saturday, December 16, 2006

I've been tagged?!

My new New York pal Red Squirrel got tagged by one of her blogmates, the sum of which is that the tagged has to reveal six weird things about themselves. Having now revealed to the world her love of cutesy t-shirts with pictures of animals, which means she can no longer leave Brooklyn and emerge from the subway in the hipper neck of Greenwich Village (although we all know that at least 66% of said t-shirts were purchased there), she has now passed the baton to meself and Mrs H Brown. Grrr.

I asked the wife to help, and - after an undiplomatic pause - she said there really wasn't anything truly weird about me, wihch really wasn't very helpful (and untrue). However, after a bit of a struggle and threats to call the divorce lawyers, we came up with today's six choice weirdities for your delectation:

1. I collect stuff. Badly. Not just cool things like my 10" vinyl records of Vaughn Williams pastoral classical songs, old jazz EPs and Radiohead CD singles - all of which I develop an enthusiasm for, but then give up after purchasing about half a dozen or so said items. But weird things, like bottle caps from beer bottles (again, I have dozens, but none that are particularly rare or interesting), silly plastic superhero toys and those free postcards they give away in bars.

2. My fingers bend. To the right (on my right hand). It looks odd, although it probably is just early stages of arthritis. I blame it for my inability to replicate the more intricate guitar runs of Jim Hendrix, but to be honest that could just be my musical incompetence.

3. My scars don't heal. I have an appendix scar from when I was about 12, which hasn't much faded. I have a scar on the back of my neck from when I had a cyste removed. It looked really good after the operation with lots of what appeared to be little metal wires sticking out of my neck - but that was ten years ago. The scar's still there. I like to claim I got it in a knife fight with some Mexican drug barons. Of course, I didn't.

4. I have a phobia for DIY. Really, it isn't just laziness (well, it's probably fifty per cent laziness). It dates back to when we lived in a one bedroom housing association flat in a tenement block built in the late 19th century, and which was knocked down not long after we moved out. It probably had flaky walls. But I managed to decorate the flat, put up some heavy duty shelving for my record collection, and also a little shelf above the sink in the kitchen on which would sit our crockery and pots and pans. You can guess the rest. It wasn't pretty.

5. I cry at happy endings in movies. Sad films, depressing films, they don't move me. I sit there and contemplate howthe on-screen losers could better sort their lives out. But a happy ending gets me every time - be it a love story, or any old warm-hearted nonsense. My favourite films include the likes of "It's a wonderful life" at the end of which no human being could fail to shed tears. But the same happens at the wimpiest made-for-TV movie. It's embarrassing, but it could be worse. Give me a happy ending, and I'll hate you forever.

6. I buy books but I don't read them. See previous posting. It's a pointless addiction, and I really ought to get over it - but I have such a strong affection for books that it's hard to do. I grew up with books, they helped make me who I am, they have given me so much pleasure. They give you freedom, visions of the possible future and distant places, other lives. And they smell nice. But really... feeding my family I can afford to do, but I could be buying music and musical instruments and other things I'd love but not use. Why books?

OK. that's all she wrote.
Now my task is to find some other
saps to pass the baton to,
so I'm gonna tag my web-mates
and look forward to
more embarrassing on-screen revelations.
I'm also gonna do a reverse tag on Squirrel, as soon as I get my breath back!

And now the obligatory mp3s,
only 30 years apart. including one from a fine Brooklyn band (LT)....

The Apostles - Six Pack (1969)

Ladybug Transistor - Six times (1999)




4 comments:

willenvelope said...

You're not *really* afraid of DIY--seems several of your musical faves include dudes with limited-to-nonexistent recording budgets. What you're afraid of is actually DIM, maybe.

Hélène Deroubaix said...

the DIY phobia made me laugh (I understand the laziness :p)but it's also terrible to see an IKEA sofa bed without the how to put everything together so that it looks like a bed o_O
It has always been funny for me to let men go mad with these notices( when they aren t forgotten ^__^)

but the crying for beautiful end is cute ;p ahah, I do cry a lot for happy ends too as well as the sad ones, but yes when they death row prisoner don't get sentenced at the end I just cry my heart out,maybe because it's real,it belongs to real life...anyway no more rants till next time!:)

Faery blessings***

Jon said...

Is this some weird UK/US language thing? I love DIY music, true. Big budgets don't impress me much (as Shania Twain once said, not). It's just the fixing up your home stuff that floors me. What's DIM?

Jon said...

helene, rants are fine. I would love more rants... my comments get quite threadbare!