Doing this the whiskey way

Somebody told me once,’lay off the whiskey, it’s for losers… now the truth is I was never fond of whiskey, as a child it was my father’s choice of poison, and although he wasn’t a loser, he sure weren’t a winner either.. Many times in my memory a night of scotch would often end up like a scene from rocky…so it pretty much was to my dismay that I formed a taste for it just a relatively short space in time ago… And indeed the taste-bud development for said fermented grain mash was quite swift.. In less than 18 months I’d coiffed, sloshed and deliberated over many of the malts out there, even getting excited about pubs that had a ‘whiskey map’ and cities that had ‘whiskey stores’…

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….. To a most recent fine moment of swigging merrily on a johnny walker blue label for 40 bucks…

Thus, along the whisky way I took some knocks, experienced increased aggressive behaviour in self, done some things that had I not been ‘mashed’ in the head I would most definitely not have done, some laughable, some against my sober code of conduct.. So upon waking this morning with hip flask in my pocket (jack daniels honey for the record) to being thrown out of the Brooklyn room I’d purchased online to here and now being totally alone in NYC… I’m of the belief that there could be something in that statement about being a loser, I sure feel it…

The hip flask is still in my pocket and I know there’s a wee dram left in there….
…the question now is, does one continue to imbibe the ‘water of life?’ does one carry on the whiskey way?

Uh huh yeah….

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Uh huh, you know when

you think things are going to go one way n then quite quickly you realise that they are heading another way and the best possible scenario is that you adjust and adapt quite quickly… How’d you do that? Especially when you feel hotter than hot and your special friend ain’t available and you’ve met so many ‘insigfnificant others’ along the way that you actually experience that beautiful situation called ‘stir crazy’ and that still ain’t enough so you carry on until you find that you can’t even think about coming…. Your present moment, how good is it?

This is my rhetoric
It vacates me

A Continue reading

Becoming more Lovin’

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In an empty room, just me, my guitar and my tambourine … Waiting

But i’m not waiting for anything anymore, i’m breathing it all in, every experience, and then letting it go again

I’m here now and ready to do something good, positive and meaningful .. I want to be more lovin to people in general

But especially i’m doing this to help ease and make more bearable the tragedy that has recently gripped my family .. No, it won’t change what has happened but i want now for my cold heart to melt and be warm again

This is for you mum, the only person who has supported me in every single thing i have ever done and i turned my back on you, sorry … The song ‘more lovin’ is for you and your firstborn

This is for you dad, and all that effort and joy you invested in me when i was the apple of your eye … Thanks also for my ‘pearls’ of wisdom

This is for you middle boy, destroying your life, all i can do is hope and pray your pain subsides and you make peace before your life ends

This is for you little sis and your baby girl .. Please please always keep me in your hearts and live your dreams … As long as i live and breathe, i’ll be lovin you

the op …..

so, the saturday day of the op arrives

it’s not the best day i’ve been waiting for, but i’m a brave soldier and go in ‘gung ho’ knowing that to be is to do …

i think of nothing

i do as i’m told – by the wonderful people who tell me what they require of me for them to get their job done

they’re pretty good at what they do – that comes across immediately to me – it’s when i complete the questionnaire several hours later that i realise they are working toward ‘numbers’ … toward ‘results’, toward proving they can achieve what they set out to do, in their initial ‘quota’, their ‘tender’ … and in this instance, for me personally, they do …

anyway, it’s a funny thing to be on your ‘operation table’ … pre-op ,.. when the anesthetist‎ comes in and says, ‘well i’m just seeing that your heartbeat is pretty slow here’, and i say, ‘well i’m just tuning in to my yoga breathing to keep things calm,’ and he raises an eyebrow and says, ‘ah! it’s pretty usual for people here in this position to be having a much faster heartbeat’, …. i look at the white ceiling,  he then says, ‘any chance you can quicken your heartbeat before i anesthetise you?’ … so i do ….

and it’s quite a wonderful going under … the thing i’m thinking about at the time is my band ‘futurejack’ … and i’m hearing the cheers of the thousands of fans in an arena, and i know i’m with two people, who really really love* and understand* and care* for me… makes me feel safe and in the knowledge that all will be well … and i’m thankful for that…

and then all of a sudden i’m waking up and wanting to check the monitor to see what my blood pressure is stating ..

i sit bolt upright and the nurse turns to me and says, ‘everything okay’ – and i say, ‘yep, just wanna check my blood pressure’ …

she goes on and starts talking to me and we chat about travelling and she tells me that the best place on earth to go visit is Canada, Vancouver to be exact … so, mentally, i put that on my list (pretty near the top) of places to go.

and so … recovery starts

a very very good friend (albeit having not been too long known, possibly about 2 years at the very most) allows me and my dogs to stay with her in a beautiful flat near Sefton Park ..

and she makes me

dinner @ jo nas

an amazingly nutritious meal of organic mash potato with organic parsnip and o swede and o carrot mash and cheese!! and i think we had a naughty Stella Artois on the side

i spend the next 3 days shuffling and mooching and generally feeling less than the superior human being that i have become accustom to being, but hey, hope remains a main ingredient in my bloodline…

i give thanks to the pranic vortex i continually wish for

 

*** hahaha! a year on and how wrong I was about those people whom i thought understood and cared for me … nope, they didn’t, they rather stabbed me in the back and sold me down the river …. exquisitely human performances from us all

the after bubbles ….

waking up four hours after falling asleep constituted another safe bet that hard partying had occurred…

with everyone going their separate ways it was just me n Jo left as we returned to Liverpool

and for every drop of fun you experience, there’s always a hard hitting back down to earth waiting in the wings – mine being a last minute call in to go for a pre-op appointment, couple of bloods, few questions, blood pressure being taken etc etc … a day before last minute check in!

turned out to be pretty painless, lovely nurse, lovely private hospital where i received a very dignified assessment … still doesn’t take away the fact i don’t fancy going in for the operation tomorrow …

anyway that aside, the appointment was done n dusted n then me n twoeey were back on the road heading her homeward bound – no homeward bound for me, i still don’t have a home

we stopped off for a quick drink at the White Horse and then headed to the ‘Bubble Room’ for a scran …

lamb hotpot was on the menu for us both

bubble room 1 bubble room 4 Price = £10

at first we thought it looked a bit weird, arriving in a cup! but under the mash (dumpling) there were huge chunks of lamb and it was very very tasty!  8/10 compliments to the chef – The Bubble Room, Woolton is definitely worth a visit …………. then,

we went back to Hobson’s thereafter and had a couple of swift scotch’s and a smoke and then turned in, with sweet dreams of a gig gone good – roll on the next one!