Boss Radio

...they're never actually ready.

The general idea is that you stick them into a pre-heated oven at a certain temperature, leave them for the stated time period, get them out and eat them. There's usually a microwave option which requires you to stick them in the microwave for a few minutes then leave them until they've cooled down enough to touch then take them out and eat them.

The reality is that you take option 1 or 2, follow the instructions to the letter, take them out and under that delicious exterior they're lukewarm inside. You stick them back in for another time period (I usually aim for about 10% of the original time) and they're still lukewarm (So much for my 10%...) so you turn up the heat (Oven) / check that it's switched on (Microwave) and lob it in for another 10 minutes.

When it comes out of the oven it splashes and burns your fingers, the whole of the outside is burnt, the plastic tray has melted into strange (And possibly saleable at certain art auction houses) shapes, and the interior is now edible. When it comes out of the microwave the result is identical except that now parts of the interior are baked solid and inedible. You may feel that this suggests that ordinary ovens are best, but it is worth bearing in mind that with the microwave you don't waste nearly as much time in ruining your meal.

I've now taken to completing step one with the oven, then having ascertained that the food is indeed undercooked, I shove it into the microwave for 5 - 10 minutes. This fools the food and, I think, makes it angry, angry enough to get very hot under the collar, so it's at this point that I whip it out.

You'll notice that I make no mention of leaving the food until it's cooled down. This is the mistake that I consistently make. The food is now so hot that it splashes and burns me, the dish is so distorted that I can't move without splashing some more and by the time I get it down on a clear surface my fingers have burned rock hard (No guitar playing for me tonight!) and I have to run them under a cold tap. Eventually the food is transferred to my plate, although it never looks quite as good as it did on the packet, and I tuck in. It burns my lips as it goes in, it burns my throat on the way down, and when it reaches my stomach it lies there and burns some more.

Half an hour later my internal workings have had enough of this mistreatment and they direct me in no uncertain terms to Mr. Crapper's place where the food procedes to burn me all over again in a new and really different way.

And to think, some people add curry powder.

Whether our ancestors knew something we didn't or not I'm not sure, but it seems that the human brain finally finishes 'connecting up' when we reach 21. This means that as far as guys are concerned we're two years past our sexual peak already. Girls on the other hand still have 14 years of knowing just who they are and what they want to wait before they reach their peak. I'm not sure who God was laughing at when he was going over the designs.

What this 21 thing also means is that in most countries of the world we get to vote long before we really know what we're going to want, we can marry years before we know for sure that our partner is the one we're going to desire for the rest of our lives, and girls get an added bonus. They get to get pregnant years before they actually know if they want children, which results in their either having an abortion which they will wish forever that they hadn't had, or give birth to child that they'll blame for ruining their childhood for the rest of the poor sprog's days.

This also explains hippies. No really. Back in the days of the draft all guys spent a couple of years having army, obedience, and the rightness of killing into them. The end of the draft in the UK resulted in a new generation who had nothing to fill those hours with, so they made music. DIY music was big in the UK from the late 50s when UK skiffle just sort of happened, finally reaching a peak of a kind when the former Quarrymen skiffle group became The Beatles and proceeded to conquer the world. Up to this point US kids just accepted that you formed a band, then it broke up while you did military service, came home, got married, and joined the rat-race. This paisley coloured music revolution from over the pond suddenly demonstrated a new direction and the 'Hell no - We won't go' generation was born.

You know what? That's so convincing I almost believe it could be true... If no one comes up with a better explanation in the next 42 minutes I'm going to adopt it.

Meanwhile back at this 'brain becoming fully functioning at 21' thing. I'm thinking this might go some way towards explaining this peculiar seismic shift that we get over here in politics every generation or so. The Conservatives led by the Thatcher sweep to power and can't be shifted for about a decade and a half, apparently supported by a generation of people who just plain don't remember the last time the Cons were in and all the power cuts during 'the winter of discontent'. Then 'New' Labour sweep to power and can't be shifted, supported by a generation who don't remember the last time Labour was in and the raging inflation (Or the offshore radio stations... ). Now it seems the Conservatives are about to be swept back into power by a new generation who don't recall the almost endless depressions, slumps, and burgeoning unemployment under the previous Conservative reign.

The only problem with this whole thing is, I can quite distinctly remember changing my mind about all sorts of things since I was 21. If I've just written a whole blog based upon some stupid theory that's about to be disproved I shall be less than really pleased. I might just have to go out and kill someone.

But don't worry. I'll probably change my mind about that.

As I waited for the physio I browsed through a copy of National Geographic. It was either that, Women's magazines, or admire the view, and since the view to the right was a full length window with a view down (Down... down...) to the road outside, and the view to the left was the open stairwell (Going down... down...) both of which gave me the cringes in the groin, the choice was really rather a no-brainer.

Thus it was that I found myself getting really aggravated over an article which 'proved' that Hip-Hop was directly descended from the African tradition of verbal history. Since Hip-Hop is just the new name for rap (It used to be another name for Go-go. what's going on? I can't keep up...) I think I could just as easily 'prove' that it was descended from the European poetry movement via the Beat Poets of the 50s, but why would I want to? The only way you can 'prove' any of this stuff is by ignoring any facts which don't suit your purpose.

Fault me on this. Johnny Mercer wrote 'One for my baby', Chuck Berry wrote 'Havana moon', and Rosendo Ruiz, Jr. wrote 'El Loco Cha Cha'. Richard Berry took the idea from Mercer, the spirit from Berry, and the rhythm from Ruiz and wrote 'Louie Louie'. It was released as a 'b' side. The Kingsmen covered the song several years later but got it wrong because they couldn't really quite remember it when they 'learnt' it. It was a massive hit and was covered by several other groups including the Kinks. The Kinks' Ray Davis was trying to work out the strange chord in the Kingsmen's version of the song and in the process wrote 'You really got me'. The lead guitarist on the recording of that song was Jimmy Page who was really taken by the sound of the block chords it featured. Page went on to form Led Zeppelin, and promptly unleashed his own version of the block chord. Led Zeppelin are almost invariably cited as the Godfathers of heavy metal.

So if only one of the three characters at the start of the previous paragraph hadn't composed his song, we wouldn't have to put up with all that catterwauling that bad metal bands churn out in pubs and clubs the world over. Does anyone believe that? No Louie Louie: No heavy metal? Of course not. Because for a start I've missed out Link Wray.

Link Wray was the original power chord guitarist, vandalising his loudspeakers to get a more grungy sound a full 10 years before The Kinks' Dave Davis 'thought' of it. Without Wray it's doubtful that The Kinks, The Who, or Led Zeppelin would have thought of power chords.

But someone somewhere would have.

Without Louie Louie or Link Wray music would have developed differently, but not that differently. After all, before Wray Ike Turner's amp fell out of the van and popped a valve, resulting in it giving him a grungy sound as well. I could go on citing new influences all night long because I doubt the list has any end. So did Hip-Hop directly descend from the African tradition of verbal history? Yes, but not only from it.

When you're out in your car you may be going to a place visited by a lot of other people. But they don't all get there by the same route.

Or even the same mode of transport.

I just got back from my first gig in years. I went along to the local pub after being informed that several old friends were going to be there for the blues jam night.

Now this is the sort of pleasure that had previously been denied me by the sheer volume of smoke that used to gather in these venues so when invited to go and sing something I took a stiff drink of ginger beer and made my way onto the stage.

Egad. I'd forgotten what a buzz it was to make music with a bunch of like-minded reprobatmusicians. I got to do 'Good golly Miss Molly' at the piano then later someone lent me a guitar and I got to go up and round off the evening in the style to which I was once accustomed. A splendid time was had by all, and if it wasn't I don't care because I was having enough fun for everyone, even if most of my applause originated from the table at which my mother, sister, and brother-in-law were seated.

You may not believe me, but people have been known to mock me upon occasion for still actually daring to play rock'n'roll. Apparently I should "Hope I die before I get old" and leave the young man's music to the young men.

Get stuffed.

This is my music, I've been playing it for most of my life. It may have been young person's music back in the day, but it's not now because we're all getting older and it's still our music. OK, we don't mind the younger generation having a go at it, but the next person to suggest that I have no right to enjoy myself like this will die. Hopefully a long way into the future when they're old enough to realise what rissoles they were to make the comment in the first place.

Just one more thing...

My fingers hurt...

I guess it's understandable that people who'd just got used to the idea that they hadn't been flooded out when suddenly they were, might be a little miffed about it and want someone to blame, but it seems to me a mite churlish to complain because you didn't get washed out.

The problem the Environment Agency had with this month's storminess was that it was a first. These 'super-rains' are usually a winter phenomenon, in the summer the earth isn't in the same condition and the computer models didn't work. Give them their due, they tweeked our delayed flood into the computer and improved their predictions for further downstream and were able to give a far more accurate prediction for other, more seaward, habitations.

Thus it was that last night the town of Reading prepared itself for the worst, and didn't get it.

Oh sure, they got some flooding, but others had piled up the sandbags and moved the furniture and nary a drop of liquid refreshment crawled under their doors. They interviewed one of these lucky escapees on TV and was he happy? was he relieved? was he snut. He complained about over-exageration and 'typical' over-reaction on the behalf of the authorities and wasn't too happy about the TV companies encouraging them in their endeavors.

Hopefully the Authority have made a note of his address, and next time they won't bother to over-react in his presence.


For some reason no one was taking up the al-fresco option...
Photo © Matt Bullock