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Monday 16 April 2012

Uh uh, technology again

Thursday, April 26, 2012: The Blogger’s Retreat. The Aldwych, London. (Plutarch).

Theoretically this is a social event: we meet, drink champagne, eat curry washed down by Kingfisher beer, walk across Waterloo Bridge, drink more beer at the pub on Roupell Street.

And talk. I’d like to think the talk is wide-ranging but I’m not sure it is. Some reminiscence (we worked on the same magazine between 1963 and 1965 and between 1972 and 1975, on related magazines between 1975 and 1978), guidance with my novel writing, guidance on poetry, wine (probably), Plutarch’s hats, blogging. Often we invite acquiescent others to join in. We avoid the weather and the disintegrations of old age. The talk is virtually continuous and initially incoherent as we start and break off subjects until a true give-and-take line is established. On the fast train from South Wales to Paddington I sometimes make notes about points I want to raise for neither of us is inclined to waste time on silence.

That agenda worked when I did Works Well. Now I’ve switched to Tone Deaf music is also discussed since Plutarch reveals a much wider interest than I suspected and is willing to talk about music’s abstractions.

But music requires a change in what was previously a simple modus operandi. Music requires musical references. A mouth organ (played quietly) might help but is a poor way of rendering orchestral themes. Neither of us has a congenial voice. The logical solution is an MP3 player with two sets of earphones to overcome the hygiene problem of earwax. But now I foresee some problems. Silence will reign as the MP3 player is used. Passing the player backwards and forwards hints disagreeably at the shared hubble-bubble. We will be depending on batteries and I for one am a battery-phobe. Aid please.

8 comments:

  1. Theoretically the contents of your post might have proved to be theoretical had I not read it. A stall averted!

    One of those wind-up phonographs which play wax cylinders and boast enormous horns would add even more drama to the picture when we meet on Thursday April 26. In the bar.

    Am I to have a sight of Blessed Redeamer before that? Or did the suggestion simply apply to Easter.

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  3. Ach, you two are lucky I live all the way across the Pond and can't get time away from work because I have a portable record player (no horn) but with built in stereo speakers!!

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  4. Pretentious crap ,why dont you both find a quiet spot then listen. Then discuss.

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  5. Plutarch: I've just finished BR re-write this AM. Will be emailing you a text version once I've checked whether it now reads rather better.

    RW (zS): Hang on. I have got good vibrations about this week's lottery. If it comes up don't go home from work on the evening of the 25th, go to your local airport. Get on a chartered Learjet and take the tube in from Heathrow. But hurry. Your Kingfisher lager could be getting warm.

    Anon: There's a problem here. Are you the Anon that has occasionally contacted Tone Deaf in the past or are you another, doing it for the first time? If the former, I'm surprised you haven't already detected my pretentious crap; if the latter let me warn you, it's wall to wall.

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  6. Off to the lotto counter with dollar in hand ...

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  7. I must admit that I followed "Works Well" with more avidity than "Tone Deaf".

    The former always had something new and stimulating, even provoking, to read and comment on.

    The latter is "music" and has become a specialised blog - since I do not specialise in music it does not hold me like the former.
    More a reflection on me than you LdP. I shall follow occasionally but not so regularly, I think.

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  8. RW (zS): No, not you, us. Had we won the lottery I fully intended to put the Learjet at your disposal. In the interim it seems we weren't lucky but I'll warn you when I'm sure it's going to happen next time.

    Avus: A sad story. The clown who gets ideas above his station. Not only did the responses fall away but so did some of the responders (eg, HHB). My reasons for junking WW were complex and nobody believed them anyway.

    Part of it's to do with writing and what it means to me. Apart from the fact that desperation was driving me into excesses of bad behaviour, WW was like running on the spot. I had hoped that the WW style at least might make the trip to TD; it does occasionally but perhaps not enough. A case of "off with the motley".

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