OH ITS JIM S AGAIN
The journey is frequently made by a train. It’s a ride of of Silver Birch, fly tipping, Millstone, high visibility, old and rusting plant, new plant, plants and a whole load ‘o’ standard British Rail L-section. There are pieces of graffiti saying things like “Leo is 100% fit”, “Wu Tang Clan” and “Stalin”. Chemical analysis will reveal that Stalin died previous to the discovery of compounds that make up the paint but the Wu Tang Clan autograph is conceiveable. You travel all this way to a lump of towns and villages and here is where it all ends until Yorkshire.
This is where I am, in a pub called the OAK. I am there to work the sound for some bluegrass music event in aid of tiny children in undemocratic nations, who in inconceiveable tragedy are addicted to things such as Methodrone. Burma, Korea (guess which one), Iran, China and somewhat harshly, Thailand. In these places, new and oblique Alkaloids are to put to use to solidify the minds of tomorrows scholars and mechanics. At least I am told this.
Bopeo is the promoter and he is trying to haggle my rate down. Bopeo is always nervous and likes Dub Reggae very much. He is also a fatso and has spectacles. “How do you like 30?” He asks.
“I like 30, but I prefer 50 more.” Is this really haggling?
“Can you accept any less?”
“50 is cheap considering what equipment I bring.”
“I know.”
Two irreconcilable truths are mashing themselves up in his fat head but I win. I go to the bar and get told I can have free drinks. Praise Stalin.
I drink for a while and start the work. The Bluegrass musicians come on and do all that music. Then later, An old man comes over to talk to me. This is bad because I can’t imagine that there is anything he might say that wouldn’t be tedious or hassle. He speaks down my ear in damp and sad words “don’t you know that arrogance is only the clangs we make as we fall down the lift shaft?”
“what’s at the bottom of the shaft?” I asked.
“A filthy fucking sump of oily water and twisted steel”
“what’s at the top?”
“My brother and he is looking down and he is telling me what I just told you”.
I knew that it’s bad to tease such an old man. I knew that mostly because he started talking a load of shit after that. He really went for it. “If you turned James Stuart Inside out and if you turned out his brother from “It’s a Wonderfull Life” and turned inside out all that altruism … turned inside out George Bailey rescuing his brother, even if it lost him his hearing in an ear it might be like this. It might like one brother seeing another’s tract, bobbling around in filthy water, from six stories up.”
Well I scorned him too. I lost my job there. 50 was too much, especially when a music recording student will have the job for 00.
