Tuesday, 23 December 2008

I Was at Loggerheads

No really I was and there are two loggerheads which also confuses the Tom Tom and puts it at loggerheads. Its a bit like when you're at a gig and someone takes a mobile out and start video-ing the best song, its like get that friggin thing out of my face, on the one hand. On the other hand you get to watch it over on Youtube....loggerheads. Personally, I'd like to rip the phone off them during the first waft in my general direction and let them try and take a picture of the sun from where its planted. (but I'm not too keen on the violent stuff..maybe I'll ask Andy to sort them next time).

I'm sure there's plenty of other ones too...yeah dope and smoking , just too much ag any other way, but then smoking kills, where's the big smiley giggly fun in that. Already this ones got a bit off on the wrong foot, however to keep a theme going this was a write up from some bloke at the Primal Scream gig about another memeber of the audience.....I really hope it wasnt me or Chris

'I mean, he wasn’t just swaying from side to side, or girating his hips a little bit - as the other (normal) members of the crowd were doing. He was actually fucking pirouetting.I'm sure its not against the law, but I'd now say 'at loggerheads with other audience participants'.

Loggerheads is also one of those places where you want someone to phone you and say 'where are you?'. Unfortunately it didnt happen today although it did happen perfectly once. SueY called from the office one day with the inevitable ' where are you?' line. My very smiley and very honest (and if I'm totally honest a bit smug) response was 'at the top of the Empire State Building, where are you?'. I know way to smug but you would too.

This Loggerheads is in Wales not the shortcut to Crewe Loggerheads when the motorway is jammed near Copey's house. I was kind of hoping that Shad could make this walk too, as its near his home town of Denbigh and I just know there would have been great stories of how is brother caged him with badgers for three days and he dressed in their fur to confuse the voles..or something similar. Its only 35 minutes from home so I suspect a few more walks round here may take place.

On the bit where you head to the parking spot there is a HUGE sign which says 'area of outstanding natural beauty' talk about biggin up your part early doors. Even Malham doesn't get one of these. Well, expectations raised, I looked at a the foggy misty vista and imagined, gorgeous it was too, almost like Clare Grogan in her heyday. I know, rubbish excuse to have a tune and a gorgeous picture or two.

not one of my pics

Both Hey and Day

I adapted a walk off t'internet for this route and hence at least a third of the distance was going to be GPS only and I didn't actually have a map of any sort. 'Where angels fear to tread'........almost. It is pretty nice round those parts and as you can see from this picture pretty calm.

Then you get to the bottom of the hill, this was Y Gant all over again, only steeper, Shad you lived here mate and could have warned me. The stroll up the lanes and passed the reservoirs was just a foil for the hill, which again I couldn't see due to the fog. It started steep and got steeper, I should have seen it in the eyes of the four blokes walking in the opposite direction, on reflection they were definitely thinking 'poor bugger'. I was absolutely knackered by halfway, legs ok but breathing like a Capstan Full Strength Test Monkey in the 50's. A jolly scouser passed me at this point with a smile and cocky banter ' it's good for you, you know'. grrrrr I felt like shaking my fist in a comic book stylee. Or even an 'I'll get you Blakey' stylee. RIP Reg V.

A strange shaped buttress

Eventually I made it to the top of Moel Famau which as the guidebooks would say is 'the highest point in the Clwydian range' and it was bloody high. I couldn't see very much so headed down a path which was the walking equivalent to a 4 lane motorway to a carpark which was at least halfway up the hill. Still 'it's good for me'!.

From the car park..... off map I headed erm completely off map and up another pretty steep hill just to extend the walk and as the fog had cleared a bit I fancied a look around from the top. It was a Welsh named sounding hill, think of your own name and add in a few double Ll's. Sheeps trails are the answer in for getting round in Wales they lead right to the top of every hill, its a bit like......  oh the old follow the crowd joke when off to the footy, except you can't end with the I ended up in Woolworths joke anymore. For what its worth Woolworths and MFI were always crap shops, I went into BHS last week and thought it was a jumble sale, markme words they'll be next.

So I made it to the top sheep or no sheep and then headed back with little incident other than being tracked by a Buzzard for about 30 minutes which is a bit disconcerting towards the end of a walk when you feel like a sit down. One of my pals has since told me that they follow you because you disturb the widlife..obvious really. Oh wait there is a bird of prey story about Craig that I should tell.................as it results in him trying to be an owl murderer from 3 yards with a gun perhaps I'll let him get first punch in on this one.

Great new band of the week- Craig you may actually like this one and they only have three songs.


Anonymous said...

I do like them (or him), very much so. If we are still doing lists then they can be my favourite new band of 2009. I think they are the only new band I can remember from this year, although I did like that American bloke we saw at End of the Road who wrote his LP whilst living up a tree in Alaska or somewhere.

So thats;

1. Withered Hand
2. Grizzly Adams

Current favourite non-new band has to be From The Jam. I listened to their live CD driving home, the new singer sings so much better than Weller. Same sound, but I can understand the words. If The Modfather ever comes crawling back ‘Robbie Williams style’ they should tell him to “fackorf” and take some elecution lessons. Although it was a bit disheartening to discover that for the last thirty years I’d been singing words that bore little resemblance to the actual lyrics.

Ok, the owl. Just because they’ve got big eyes they arent special you know. Or clever for that matter. If they were it would have been him with the air rifle and not me. Kids are cruel sometimes. And bored sometimes. If there are no bricklayers to shoot, what do you do? Those pellets have a shorter shelf life than milk left in the car, you’ve got to use em up.

So, for those of you who dont know, I was with my ‘country mates’, and we did ‘country things’ like catching moles and supergluing them (dead) to just about any surface we could find. Front doors, ceilings, car rear windows. If we had no superglue we just stuffed them up the exhaust pipes. That was only when we didnt have air rifles though. When we had air rifles we shot things. Bottles, windows, cows (due to the thick hide it only smarts apparently) and occasionally each other. Once, rather spectacularly we went on a butterfly hunt, they tended to disintegrate completely, even without a pellet. But mainly we shot birds. I think the big downturn in the sparrow population was our fault.

Anyway, one day it was my turn for the gun and as we walked across a field someone spotted an owl sat on a fencepost. It was one of those whiteish ones. You know, the really cute ones. Didnt matter though, if the shot was on you took it. It’s what we had trained for.

We crawled across the field, torn between getting closer and risking it seeing us and flying off. As we got within about ten yards of it we realised that it couldnt see us as it was asleep. Brilliant. So we crawled closer. And then a bit closer still. If I wasnt a sporting sort of kid, I could have rested the end of the gun on its chin. If owls have chins. As it was I got to about three yards away before taking aim. I would have said right between the eyes, but thats all owls are anyway, just eyes on a pair of feet. All the weeks of practise shooting the bricklayers building The Centenary pub up the arse paid off and I shot it smack in the chops.

This is where it stopped going to plan. Owls have quite tightly packed feathers around their faces, possibly as a defence against teenage boys who should know better. The pellet bounced off its face, a bit like it did with the cow actually, and the rudely awakened owl opened one eye and stared back at us. Shit, we thought, what now. And faced with an owl that took his shots much more stoically than the brickies ever did, we turned tail and legged it.

I wouldnt be surprised if its still sat there now. Merry Xmas.

Anonymous said...

You're getting your favourite new Americana artists confused.

You're thinking of Bon Iver, who wrote and recorded his excellent album whilst shacked up in some lodge in the Louisiana winter...only pausing to go and shoot bears for food (that's how the shooting things is done properly). But you didn't watch him, preferring to have a sleep instead.

The person you are thinking of is Micah P. Hinson, who has released 4 albums and has a backstory involving going out with a supermodel, heroin addiction and prison (in that order), and all before he was 22. His were the songs that started off quiet and usually endeded up with a good loud thrash, as if that was what he really wanted to do all along.

Anonymous said...

Cheers Andy.

So thats;

1. Withered Hand
2. Micah P Hinson

I doubt though that I will remember either blokes name for long.