Category Archives: Pop Music

The Stroke Bloke AKA

I remember sitting with my pal, John, on the sofa here in my parents’ house on the morning of 31 August, 1997. Well, I couldn’t have told you the exact date — I had to look that up. But, it was the end of a short visit to Scotland, so we had made a point of having the sort of good night that occasions a good breakfast. Nevertheless, it began to percolate through from the radio in the kitchen that something newsworthy was going on. A Mercedes had smashed into the 13th pillar of the Alma tunnel in Paris, and Henri Paul, Dodi Al Fayed and Diana, Princess of Wales, had each died.

The Waleses in happier times

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Invisible Ink

I’m writing this on my birthday, the day before it’s due to be posted. I’m 39. My dad said, last night, “They start to go quicker, don’t they?”

I responded, “Actually, this year’s been pretty eventful. I think that’s made it seem longer.”

But I’ve been at the age, for over twenty years now, that my birthday isn’t such a big deal. I’m enjoying this one, though. Beth made some fried halloumi for breakfast. I put some yoghurt in a couple of small bowls and made some tea.  Even though it’s the ides of September, I can see a patch of blue in the sky, if I crane my neck.

For all that, I may be looking forward to Strokiversary more. I haven’t celebrated one of those before. Well, maybe one, but it was rubbish.

British humo(u)r, courtesy of ohhdeer.com

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Minor Arcana, or EnlighteNmenT

In the aftermath of my stroke (remember that?), I’ve found myself increasingly wedded to a positive outlook on the world. I suppose that’s a natural result of a near-death experience. By that, of course, I mean the experience of nearly dying rather than an umbrella term under which Ian Wiki groups  “detachment from the body, feelings of levitation, total serenity, security, warmth, the experience of absolute dissolution, and the presence of a light.”

The light at the end of the tunnel…
(darksideofthecatalogue.wordpress.com)

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Great British Strokes #5 — Vini Reilly

I’ve been heartened by the response to Thursday’s post about how Jackie Ashley and Andrew Marr have responded to Marr’s stroke in January. There’s a real sadness underlying the story, I think. But you don’t have to read between the lines too much to find the melacholia in the story of today’s subject.

“Vini Reilly is way overdue a revival….
It’s good music to chill out to.” — God

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i hate ballboy (part two of an occasional series)

[Another music-based post today. I’d suggest you soundtrack it by listening to Time Is Falling, the EP by friend of the blog Josh and his bandmates in Attics. Even though it’s fab, you can stream it and download it for free!]

Welcome, friends, to part two of Stroke Bloke’s reflections on some personally meaningful songs. (Part one is here.) This time, I’m going to lift the restriction limiting our choons to Scottish numbers, for reasons that will become evident. (Although, I’d love to include these folks: http://www.edinburghartfestival.com/commissions/complaintschoir.)

Edinburgh council's complaints brochure
The Complaints Choir?
Sounds rubbish.

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Antidepressant

Hello, friends. I must apologize for the snafu at the Big 5-0 party on Monday. How can you have a post entitled “Unhappy Birthday” — in late May, no less — and not link to this? A lovely page, from noting that offering his Mozness happy returns is less appropriate than observing that marking the occasion means “he still hasn’t met the right person to die in a fiery bus crash beside.” (Even if a preposition is a word you don’t end a sentence with.) It’s even got cats in it, for goodness sake. Take that search engine optimizer! And, the pictures of the Motorcycle Au Pair Boy are mostly from (or before, actually) his prime.

In his prime. Prime side of British beef, that is!

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