The Black Stuff

Published on Sat 17 Mar 2007

I wish people would stop contacting me thinking I'm Paul Goodwin, the moderately famous conductor and accomplished classical oboe player. You'd think it'd be reasonably obvious from my website (which they always come through) that we're not the same person. I'm thinking about turning it to my advantage and starting an orchestra - I've had enough people wanting auditions.

I've just got back from a "business trip" (night out) in Bath, which is a really nice place - a pretty town surrounded by impressive hills. I went there a few years ago to do a gig at the Porter Cellar Bar (where we went for a bit towards the end of last night, and had a drawn game of table football (quite unusual)) and had a great time - I should see if they'll let me play again. Unlikely I fear. For some reason we ended up playing Monopoly in the hotel bar until quite late (rock and roll). Monopoly never ends well does it? There's always some kind of act of God that means that the houses of the person who's winning mysteriously vanish. I fell asleep with the telly on, so had a slightly odd night's sleep, with dreams interspersed with news headlines. I quite wanted to go to the spa thing that uses the hot spring this morning (it hadn't quite opened last time) but there was too big a queue and we had to get back (and I wasted too long trying to find some swimwear in bhs that wasn't kind of skimpy - just as well I didn't find anything because it'd have been wasted). It's a very picturesque part of the world, but the only photo I thought to take (other than a slightly crap one of the Royal Crescent) was of Phil in Boots:

I should grow up.

The drives there and back were pretty cool - Phil has a very fancy car. I've not been in a convertible before I don't think. It has little jets of warm air by your neck so that you don't get cold when the top is down. Here's a picture I was trying to take of the countryside, that turned into a me nearly dropping my phone due to a sudden burst of acceleration.

Today is exactly a year since Logan's last gig. Bit weird. It seems like a different lifetime. I guess quite a lot has happened since. I really do quite miss playing loud widdly guitar. Who'd have thought it?

I'm pretty tired after all my excitement, but I reckon I'll do what most English people do on March 17th and inexplicably drink Guinness while singing Dubliners songs. They've toned the novelty Guinness hats down a bit this year, though they were getting a bit overblown.

We saw this notice on Mill Road the other day. Someone has a lot more of a social conscience than I do.

Oh God, I've accidentally started watching "Choose a Eurovision Loser". Leggy scouse bint from Atomic Kitten is doing "Son of a Preacher Man" but with less words and more legs. And acrobats. I'm quite curious to see what Justin Hawkins does. He seemed to be dressed up as Elton John. Oh God, there's a panel of judges. Oh, but it's Mel from Mel and Sue! I love her. She was great on Light Lunch, and even though her career of late does seem to consist of going on reality shows and being bad at things, that's quite adorable too in it's way.