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Month: May, 2017

It was 20 years ago today

Good morning good morning good morning aah.

Nothing to do…

Yes, last Friday saw the latest remaster of THE classic 1967 album which brought psychedelia into the mainstream consciousness, Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. The thing I can’t wrap my head around is two fold: 1. How much money do The Beatles want to make from us fans? I take it they don’t still get paid peanuts from every album that’s sold. 2. How much do EMI/Parlophone/Apple Corp want to rip from us?

In 1967 I bought this album in mono (actually it was bought for me but let’s not split hairs). In 1970, before the split I bought the album again, this time in stereo and paid for it myself. I also bought the white album at the same time in 1970 in stereo having already bought it in 1968. Then in 1974 when I bought a new stereo with a twin tape deck I bought both these albums and Revolver on cassette, so that was 2 copies of Revolver (vinyl and cassette) and 3 copies each of Sgt Pepper and The Beatles (vinyl stereo and mono editions and then cassette editions).

In 1985 I bought a cd player to add to my stereo and then replaced every Beatles album with the cd edition when it was released in the 1980’s. In 2005 I bought Sgt Pepper on cd as it was remastered, but it didn’t sound any different to the original cd I bought in 1987. I then bought it again when it was remastered in 2013, again no bonus tracks. I wanted to buy it last week in the 6 disc box set but that has proved impossible owing to the fact I don’t have a job at the moment and nothing in the pipeline.

The price of the 6 disc is also way over the top at ÂŁ109.99 plus p&p, given that I have already spent almost that amount on this album over the years surely I could be given a discount (I won’t hold my breath). The only reason I am prepared to buy this album again (only on the 6 disc version mind) is because of all the outtakes included and the blu-ray disc of the making of and the Penny Lane/Strawberry Fields promo films made in 1967, which have been restored. I know the box set has the DVD as well but why should I pay for a version I would only watch on my laptop occassionally because the blu-ray player is much better to watch on the bigger (50inch) screen.

If Paul or Ritchie see this and can make me an offer I can’t refuse (preferably a job but I won’t be disappointed if they don’t as I’d have rather worked for John or George) I would be very grateful. Maybe I should tweet the link to this post to them both 🙂 and see what happens. That’s my “rant” over for this week, thank you for reading and I will be publishing a new chapter for 1968 soon.

Sitting on a cornflake

Waiting for the van to come…

Last night there was a horrible attack on the youth of this warm and pleasant country which has prompted the usual outpouring against an entire religion but I hope no-one listens to this rhetoric. Islam (the religion not the atheist bastards claiming it for their terrorist activities) is a religion of peace. The cowardly “soldiers” who purport to be followers as a reason for terrorist acts, are just that – COWARDS.

If they truly were soldiers they would wear uniforms and we’d all know exactly who they are but they don’t they hide among us, plotting bombs and guns to cause as many civilian casualties as they possibly can in order to stir up the kind of hatred which will give them more followers. That’s why we cannot allow this to happen, they are a minority and they do not follow any recognised peaceful religion, ask any Muslim if they support acts of terror and, if they say no and tell the truth then they are the ones who will lose should the terrorists win.

Our thoughts, prayers and sympathy goes to those youngsters wounded in last nights attack, the dead are beyond our help but hopefully they have been welcomed into the spiritual world as the martyrs they are. Terrorists must be hoping there isn’t a hell because if there is then the virgins they were promised will all be devils and they will truly understand what absolute terror is. Apparently the culprit behind the bombing died when taking his own life and those innocents around him, if these cowards want to die why not do it in private? They are not martyrs they are criminals and if found deserve no sympathy for anything that happens to them in jail before trial and after they are found guilty may they continue to suffer in the knowledge that they are nothing but cowards and criminals.

Lucky I’m sane after all I’ve been through

Just another update, dear reader, to let you know that the next instalment of my memoir (1968) is taking a while to come together and gell so it will be readable and not jump around. My brain is like a frog, it leaps around and the words come out before I can stop them. In the past this didn’t matter overly as my friends were all the same and we would spend hours talking about nothing in particular.

We would talk about what we would do to change attitudes and accept that everyone is different, getting others to accept that as well. I was in a few “High School Bands” where we would sit around and jam, a few had guitars and I would grab whatever was in the kitchen to bang on (there were never enough drummers to go around). During these sessions we would pass around a few joints, drink a few beers (someone’s home brew) and talk between songs. When you’re all stoned you don’t realise you’re talking garbage since everyone else is also talking complete rubbish.

Occasionally we would be sitting in the park (later on as we didn’t want to get busted for smoking dope) talking and listening to the guitars when a few others (generally intrigued by what was happening with us) would linger on the periphery until invited to join us and join the conversations. At this juncture some would disappear although a few did take us up on the offer and sit with us on the grass. These groups were never all-male affairs, we attracted more than our share of girls to join us. I don’t know if they were attracted because of the music or because they had also partaken of the herb, but join us they did.

No-one who sat around with us in those days would be allowed to remain quiet as we encouraged everyone to join in the discussions, giving us their point of view. We talked about Vietnam, segregation, Muhamad Ali and religion. General items like the state of the Nation, what the police were doing to fight crime and was it successful, why some people were attracted to violence with fights being a regular occurrence at that time (Ireland was gripped by the Troubles, there were youths regularly meeting in Brighton, Glasgow and other places to fight others who thought and looked different to them).

What made a person attractive to the opposite sex, and why were some people more sought after than others? Some men (and women) were seen as very attractive (not just movie stars and rock stars either) to the opposite sex, and could have their pick of the opposite sex. In 1968, because of the recent change in the law making homosexuality a non-crime, we also discussed why some men were attracted to other men. We didn’t judge as we accepted everyone was different and no-one had a right to tell others how to live. (In the words of Jimi Hendrix in “If Six Was Nine” I’m the one who’ll die when it’s time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to!)

Radical thinking for teenagers in 1968 Scotland, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m getting told it’s time to get something done about finding a job so I’ll finish this now and write another tale or two as a trailer to 1968 in the coming days. Music courtesy of with the clip coming from Easy Rider.

Beautiful Quote From Humanity Lives On

Where are we taking this world to? Judging people and having an opinion about each other has become a natural instinct while kindness and respect have become a choice to offer. The post Daily Quote #70 appeared first on Humanity Lives On.

via Daily Quote #70 — Humanity Lives On

Quote for today 16 May 2017

Author Barbara Sher wrote, “As soon as you begin to pursue a dream, your life wakes up and everything has meaning.”

I say Hello, you say Goodbye

Sorry for my absence over the last couple of weeks dear reader, I don’t have any excuse but I have been busy behind the scenes reviewing my last Chapter and have decided to re-write it as part of the next Chapter (1968). That way what is there remains and the rest will be appended to 1968 to explain the downturn in my relationship with my dad and how he affected my relationship with my mum.

Okay, so what has everyone been doing while I’ve been looking for jobs, attending interviews, registering with Agencies and being turned down for more jobs than I have ever had rejections before in my life. Ah, the internet and email, it makes it so easy to reject someone without having to pay postage or return their resume (CV for those of us in Blighty).

Anyhoo, I’ve been thinking recently that if things worked out differently between the old man and I when I was in my teens then I may still have been living in Scotland, I moved away because my mum died and I had no reason to stay. I may well have remained with my 2nd wife since she was an old fashioned woman who felt that the man should be looked after and even though I helped out with the housework I was made to feel that it was not my place to do anything. We drifted apart because I moved down to England’s South East 16 months before I found somewhere we could both live and she moved down to join me, however, by the time she joined me I had been living it up as a single person and saw no reason to change when she came down. Of course that doesn’t work out very well when the person being cheated on finds out from her friends that she is being cheated on. I left rather than trying to work things out and, as with any divorce, once the lawyers come in then things get really messy and you don’t remain friends.

I can’t really complain too much about the way things turned out, apart from losing my daughter. That was all my fault although I don’t know why we haven’t patched things up yet. I hurt her in the past and we still managed to sit down and talk things through, but this time she doesn’t want to meet to try and patch things up between us and I can only blame myself. My son seems to be taking a leaf out of her book as well as he never gets in touch and never comes over to see me.

I must have done something really wicked to lose my family this way. This post isn’t about that, or it’s not supposed to be. I just wanted to update you, dear reader, on what I’ve been doing while I’ve been away. Still I’ve done that now so I’ll go back to my music and catch you again soon.

Summer, Buddy Holly, the working man’s folly good golly miss Molly

Reasons to be cheerful when all you want to do is crawl back into bed alone… Monday and what a start to the week, everything there is has been done, books have been written, blogs posted music played and songs sung.

Yes, it’s all been done and better than I could do it… Or is it?

I started to write the next chapter of my personal life history and then I thought I may have mentioned that I don’t get on with my dad without saying why, and 1967 was the year that our relationship became more strained. It was also the beginning of the end of my relationship with my dad, which I didn’t go into. Since this is supposed to be a wart’s and all tale of my fall into hell and fall out with my dad why didn’t I go into details of the beginning of this fall out? Why have I chosen to ignore the part he has played in my subsequent mental illness by telling what a good job he did on me starting in 1967?

Music was my only escape from him, and it brought me closer to my granddad and grandma (his parents) beginning in 1968. I couldn’t wait to escape his fury and anger which was always directed at me, my two younger brothers escaped his wrath and whatever they asked him for they got, I never did, if I wanted anything I had to save and buy it for myself which meant I appreciated it more.

In 1966 I asked him and mum for a Scalextric racing car set for my birthday but was told it was too expensive to buy so I stopped asking for things. In 1967 my youngest brother asked for a racing car set and my dad went out and bought him one the next Saturday. I didn’t mind as I often played with it racing Paul when I could get the old man off it.

I asked for a stereo record player and dad bought one for himself so I was given the radiogram he had bought when he married my mum in 1951. I bought my own stereo turntable, amp, speakers and headphones when I started work in 1971. In 1967 my dad would be building things in his shed at the bottom of the garden and if I ever asked if I could help he used to tell me that I was as much use as a wooden leg so no he didn’t need my help. Both of my brothers would go and help out with things he was making I was never allowed to.

When I started building jigsaws he would wait until I went to bed then finish it off for me and when I asked why he’d done that he would tell me that he had only helped because I was making a pigs ear of it. You know if you tell someone often enough, and with enough force, that they will never amount to anything worthwhile how is it never your fault that they never do amount to anything because they just give up?

I have only recently begun to appreciate that the reason why my daughter sees me as a failure is because I have never achieved anything in my life. Sure I attempt things but as soon as it looks as though I might be getting some where I sabotage myself and it’s all because of the programming carried out by my dad on my young self.

I once accused my dad of treating me differently to my brothers and he said that I was being stupid but when I started writing my life history, I soon realised that either I got him all wrong or else he did treat me as the “black sheep of the family” and I don’t think I read him wrong at all. I think I need to do a 1967 part 2 telling of my (failed) relationship with my dad (he’s still alive so it’s not like I’m speaking ill of the dead).

Comments on this post will decide whether or not I publish it on here or just keep it for my own benefit.

Everybody’s smoking but no-ones getting high



Following on from my thoughts to a friend post the other day, I thought I’d let you know, dear reader, that I have heard from my friend and he’s back in hospital once more (that’s why he hadn’t been in touch).

Anyhoo, update over and I’ll continue with this post now. Our nightmare neighbours moved out about 4 weeks ago and the week after someone else moved in who, interestingly enough, makes less noise but is annoying in other ways. The people who moved out had 3 dogs which never went for walks and the yard we share was never cleaned. They left do mess all over the yard when they left which has now been cleaned up. They smoked in the yard (almost exclusively) which meant that I never had to put up with the flat smelling like a smoker’s den. (Yes that was the inspiration behind this title) the new neighbour and his partner smoke and this flat always smells as though I’ve started smoking again (I haven’t).

They have a dog and don’t clean up after it straight away but there is less dog mess from one than there was with 3 and they do clean up at least once a day.


I thought I’d include the video of Nobody Told Me in this post from you tube.

This is me, but I’m still the one you know

Hello again, old friend and dear reader. I was just thinking of going to bed since I have a doctors appointment in the morning and then it hit me like a ton of lead – if I do I’ll only toss and turn until the alarm goes off or until I get up again as my head is churning with thoughts of pain and loneliness.

Don’t worry my dearest friend, I won’t do anything stupid (except stay up until I start falling asleep). I made a promise a long time ago that I would be here when you needed me and I intend to keep that since you are lost in a black hole and even though I’m reaching out to help you I’m being met with a wall of silence which tells me that you need me more now than at any other time since we’ve known each other.

I can’t tell you what it means to not hear you, or to see you. To wonder if you’re okay and settling into the sheltered accommodation or if you would like some company soon. All these thoughts go running around my head of the times we had together when you helped me to get over my marriage breaking up, and the pain she inflicted by her lies until she was caught out by telling them too often.

The way I repaid that by seeing you and helping you when you needed to cope with a crazy wife, yes mate we were there for each other through the dark times but when things started to turn bad for you again at the beginning of this year; you didn’t reach out to me. Why you wanted to do things yourself I don’t know, but I might have been able to help. I reached out to you so often then but you told me a few weeks ago you had been in the cuckoo’s nest again for 3 months and that’s why you hadn’t answered me. Trust me I only want what’s best for you and for you to find happiness, after all I know what you go through in the dark days, been there myself and I know what kind of hell it is.

I miss you mate because you are the only true friend I’ve ever known, one who gives of himself without asking for anything in return, and you found the same in me. I would die for you so you would never have to go through anything on your own so call me or write to me and let me know everything is okay and you’d like to meet up next week for a brew and a natter.

Mental well being IS as important as physical.

***** Take Care! Vic

via Point To Ponder — Just Plain Ol’ Vic