Life On Mars? #DavidBowie

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Life on Mars?  ( don’t forget the question-mark!  )  by the inimitable Mr David Bowie has always been one of my favourite songs.    Although recorded in the early 70s its timeless,  ageless and some would say meaningless.

I’d say enigmatic, as what most people don’t get is that Bowie is painting a picture of a world gone mad, the girl with the mousy hair escaping her dull existence to see the same dull movie 10 times, people fighting for no reason, police beating up the wrong guy.

It really is the freakish show and he asks the question .. Is there life on Mars?

Is there any chance of escaping for this dull and chaotic existence?

Personally,  I like it because it just sounds and feels good.

Although Bowie wrote the song,  the piano was played by the classically trained Rick Wakeman,  two musical geniuses in my opinion who I could only ever dream to emulate.

On paper the song is written in the Key of F,   but thats only notional as it promptly forgets that and goes in and out of key at multiple locations.

Its probably the most complex song that I’ve learned and the below tab I’ve based it on doesn’t do the complexity of the song justice.   So I used this for guidance and filled the rest in from the Bowie songbook that I received for my birthday last week.

https://tabs.ultimate-guitar.com/tab/david_bowie/life_on_mars_chords_570195

I’m off work for a week and catching up with bits and bobs,  including getting a chance to mess around with the recording features of the Roland FP-90 Digital Piano that I bought last year.

Finally had the change to record this and convert it to mp3,  a fairly painless process.

In my version,  its a quick round of an 8 bar intro in a more classical style and then the song in more accompaniment style so that my mate can sing along with it without guessing where the lyrics sync with the music.

Hope I’ve did it justice. 🙂

 

 

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Work, Rain, Home, Again?

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Work, work, work …
Rain, rain, rain  ….
Home, home, home …
Again, again, again …
I’ve not been doing much writing recently … kinda missing it.

Working too hard, long hours, long commute, tired all the time and too many other things to do.

This job .. which I quite enjoy at a technical level.. is sucking the life out of me.

I’ve always been a bit healthily disdainful towards my work,    I work for a living, not the other way around.

But that no longer seems to be possible in the world we live in. Where we used to have a knowledge gap and those with that knowledge were in demand and could command the bigger bucks, has been replaced by a culture where businesses can pull in that knowledge from other parts of the world on demand without considering the longer term consequences.

If younger generations don’t get the opportunity or the infrastructure or health system can’t support the influx then it’s not their problem.

That’s a general trend, but it’s this place, the Dickensian working practices, 8 hour days not including the mandatory hour for lunch, the 2-3 hour commute.

The day just seems so long .. Every day seems so long .. Tired .. Driving in rain and dark skies and not seeing the sunshine.

I need a holiday.

I need a change.

Like an alcoholic or some other behaviour addict .. the first step to making that change is to realise that you have a change to make.

It’s important to remember that even when it doesn’t seem possible, we always have a choice.

Now if I can only be arsed updating that CV and getting it out there.

The lyrics above are from Town to Be Blamed by Deacon Blue from their Raintown album, a personal favourite album and legendary around these parts with its image of Glasgow on the cover just at a time when dark, grey, stormy Glasgow put on some new clothes to become the European City Of Culture.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raintown_(album)

Work Stories – Resign Yourself?

 

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I currently work for this global communications company based in Central Scotland, if you live in the UK, you probably use or have used its services as they have a tight grip on some of the best available premium content.

You might know the place, very technical, a bigger technical base than any of the banks that I’ve worked for with the exception of JP Morgan.

I’m a contractor, self-employed and run a small personal services company ( ooooh-err missus ) for tax efficiency purposes.

Did you hear that? Tax-efficiency purposes?

What does that mean?

Well efficiency in a physics sense is defined as the ratio to energy in vs energy out.

In this context, it’s the amount of money that my company earns vs the amount of cash that I abscond with . take home .. by reducing my tax and national insurance rather than paying full PAYE.

Continue reading “Work Stories – Resign Yourself?”

This is Not the Champions League. #UEFA

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Celtic are back in action tonight,  the second-leg of the first of four qualifying rounds to get to the UEFA Champions’ League Group Stages.

We are already 3-0 up from the first leg against Alashkert of Armenia and tonight should be a formality.

How skewed are UEFA in the decision making of their qualifying process that whoever wins between Scotland and Armenia’s champions are playing 8 games to qualify in the group stages when there are 26 direct entries to the group stages including 4 from England, 4 from Spain and 4 from Italy,  3 from Germany and 3 from France.

This is not a whinge saying that the above is not fair.    If that’s how UEFA want to play the game then that’s up to them.

What am I saying is that this is no longer the “Champions” league and should be renamed accordingly.

Tonight,  the walk from Dalmarnock train station along the wide thoroughfare of the Clyde Gateway with the stadium looking magnificent in the distance always brings pride in my heart and a smile on my face.

Mon the hoops.

Brain-Dead?

Brain-Dead

 

Client – As a matter of interest,  what will you do with my body  afterwards?

Salesman – Do you really want to know?

Client – Yes and no.   I’m interested but don’t want to know the gory details.

Salesman – Well after your brain is removed,  you’re finished with it and there’s no need to keep it.  The important thing is that the surgeons focus on the installing your brain in your new body.

Client – Yes,  I appreciate that,  I just wondered what you did with my old body afterwards? Continue reading “Brain-Dead?”

Please Just Fuck Off!

It’s the half night

The half light

I’m wide awake

When I should be sound

 

She’s been texting

Her anxiety increasing

With my lack of response

But I was asleep to be fair

 

She wants me

She misses me

She wants me to fuck her

To do anything I want

 

She asks

Do I miss her?

Do I not love her?

Why don’t I love her?

 

All that angst and anxiety

While I was in the land of nod

Dreaming about nothing at all

And certainly not her

 

Continue reading “Please Just Fuck Off!”

So what’s wrong with me?

3am and the world is dark

Everywhere except the blue-white light from my phone.

Fell asleep on the sofa .. again.

There was a message from her waiting when I woke up.

Asking if I was awake and wanted to talk.

I wasn’t and I didn’t.

She says that she misses me.

I miss her too, but not enough.

Not enough to make the effort, invite her over, spend the night wrapped in her arms.

Or legs. Continue reading “So what’s wrong with me?”

He Ain’t Heavy ..

Bert Hardy exhibiton

There he was, lying sleeping, or so I thought.

A private ward on the 11th floor of the new Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Glasgow, fantastic views out the window looking north to the Campsie Hills then Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps beyond.

Not that he was in any state to admire the vista, he had more important priorities having just came through a kidney removal.

His wife and daughter had already been and gone, leaving him resting, recovering from the effects of the anaesthetic.

I waited outside the room, I didn’t want to go in, wake him or even chat to him. It didn’t seem appropriate.    I just wanted to see him.

I just wanted to know that he was alive and well and that he was on the way back and over the trauma of the operation.

I can see him through the glass of the door, head back, propped up on pillows, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

That was enough for me, maybe a quick chat with his nurse and get his status, then head for home.

At that she appeared, Nurse Aboui, small, slim, black as the ace of spades, afro hair and a dazzling smile as she offers her greeting. Continue reading “He Ain’t Heavy ..”