Gerald's Blog

[jtul07]

Thanks for keeping Gerald's Blog up to date Pat.
Here is a very timely bit of Gerald's lovely sense of humor. ;D

You can sense both the excitement and the resigned ennui of the impending US election here in the State of Florida.
The Sunshine State where sunshine is currently coming out of Mitt Romney's arse
as he nows tries to placate NASA and the supporters of the US Space Programme
by suggesting some unlike marriage of civilian,
peaceful space exploration and a proposed "defense" priority for future NASA strategy.
That NASA should become effectively a wing of the military is surely to negate the whole point of space research,
which has been for 30 years the most fruitful area of cooperation between Russia,
the USA and other partners in peaceful space exploration.

That's right, we can beat those Commies to the Moon all over again. Maybe?

[Deleted]

Well they did beat us the first time...

[jtul07]

Oct 10, 2012 20:00:23 GMT -5 @kaibailey said:

Well they did beat us the first time...

The USSR’s successful launch of Sputnik 1 in 1957 caught the USA by surprise;
and the reactions of panic have been well documented.
Suddenly, the night sky was transformed from a serene celestial dome to a place of menace,
from which unseen attacks could be launched on the capitalist world.
At the same time, there was tremendous excitement that the shackles of gravity
had been broken at last and human dreams of space were about to be realised.


While the US military and government were grappling with the political implications of Sputnik 1,
one of the ways in which ordinary people responded was to translate
the body of the spacecraft into something familiar and edible.
The humble olive, with the addition of three or four toothpicks to represent antenna,
became a symbol of the satellite.
This was an excellent garnish for a martini, sandwich or the quintessential American food, the hamburger.

zoharesque.blogspot.com/2011/01/consuming-space-age-cuisine-of-sputnik.html

[My God]

Oct 11, 2012 6:51:51 GMT -5 jtul07 said:

Oct 10, 2012 20:00:23 GMT -5 @kaibailey said:

Well they did beat us the first time...

The USSR’s successful launch of Sputnik 1 in 1957 caught the USA by surprise;
and the reactions of panic have been well documented.
Suddenly, the night sky was transformed from a serene celestial dome to a place of menace,
from which unseen attacks could be launched on the capitalist world.
At the same time, there was tremendous excitement that the shackles of gravity
had been broken at last and human dreams of space were about to be realised.


While the US military and government were grappling with the political implications of Sputnik 1,
one of the ways in which ordinary people responded was to translate
the body of the spacecraft into something familiar and edible.
The humble olive, with the addition of three or four toothpicks to represent antenna,
became a symbol of the satellite.
This was an excellent garnish for a martini, sandwich or the quintessential American food, the hamburger.

zoharesque.blogspot.com/2011/01/consuming-space-age-cuisine-of-sputnik.html

So that's how the obesity epidemic got started in the US. Wow, a Bolshevik plot after all. My elementary school teachers were right!

[TM]

Here's the latest and probably most interesting installment by Gerald.

The Bostock Diaries

Touring NASA Below Apogee - Part 10

Latest news from the lyric writer of the original "Thick as a Brick" who, if he had to study science, it would have been astronomy

Oh, how we longed for the Heathrow T5 experience. In spite of the now-legendary rocky opening a few years back, it hums now with the precision of a well-oiled baggage carousel and we get through every time (tempting fate here...) in the promised 8 minutes or less. But, of course, it is BA-only in that terminal. Passengers on Delta, Lufthansa, Virgin and the other riff-raff have a much less easy passage through to airside but still better than most international airports in the world. According to Mr A who has seen most of them.

Aboard the skylark for the 747 trip to Miami with promise of dodgy landing weather. But the BA pilot knew his stuff and steered us around the anvil-topped storm clouds for a textbook landing. But not until we had endured the Two-hour delay at LHR due to a faulty onboard air-conditioning system and lost our place in the take-off cue as a result. Pilot was volubly pissed off, as were his passengers, many of whom missed their onward connections in MIA.

An early night, then, for most of us after the long trip and an early load-in next morning at the first venue to break in and test the USA production before soundcheck.

Just as well to have the extra time as the cable between projector and the media server which provides the video sections would not work and the runner spent most of the afternoon finding another to make it back to the venue only as the audience were coming in.... Stress and tension all round. Last thing they needed at the start of the tour but the shows have gone well since.

You can sense both the excitement and the resigned ennui of the impending US election here in the State of Florida. The Sunshine State where sunshine is currently coming out of Mitt Romney's arse as he nows tries to placate NASA and the supporters of the US Space Programme by suggesting some unlike marriage of civilian, peaceful space exploration and a proposed "defense" priority fro future NASA strategy. That NASA should become effectively a wing of the military is surely to negate the whole point of space research, which has been for 30 years the most fruitful area of cooperation between Russia, the USA and other partners in peaceful space exploration.

Talking of NASA - we were treated to an afternoon of sheer wonder and delight courtesy of Col. Catherine Coleman, US Astronaut, recently returned from a 5 month mission to the International Space Station. She had with her onboard the ISS, Anderson's flute and they played a duet together during her 100 million kilometre trip in earth orbit. Indeed, said flute returned to earth on the Space Shuttle Endeavour, in the headlines a few days ago as it made its triumphal but rather sad journey inelegantly piggied on the back of a 747 en route to a museum in LA, its final resting place.

On arrival at Kennedy Space Centre, band and crew were ushered from the visitors' reception area to a waiting NASA bus which ferried us a fair old distance to the Orbiter Processing Facility where a mass of gantries and walkways almost obscured their well-protected and shrouded charge. Space Shuttle Atlantis, cocooned in the safe sanctuary of the massive structure around it stood proudly, if sadly, awaiting partial gutting of some systems and degradable bits and bobs before being slowly hauled - not to the burial pyre - but to the final KSC resting place alongside the other rockets and capsules of the US Space Programme, dating back to the Von Braun years.

We knew we were being taken to the VIP areas of the facility but were not really expecting to get close. Wow! In groups of four or five at a time, we were taken up the ladders, along gantries from tip of the vertical tail stabiliser to the landing gear below and all points in between. The veterans of the shuttle programme who were showing us around were retired volunteers who had spent most of their working lives on the shuttle missions and knew every inch and inner working of their fleet.

The holy sanctuary, the flight deck cockpit, was surprisingly large and sparse. Just two seats for Commander and Pilot. We all got the chance to sit in the commander's seat and handle the first avionic fly-by-wire system. Just a joystick and a few other simple controls, befitting the world's biggest and heaviest glider: yes, glider - for that's what the big moment-of-no-return was on landing where, after the re-entry burn, the pilot had to make the all or nothing hands-on decisions to get the crew back on the ground at the pre-ordained landing site. No powered descent - just the atmosphere-skimming nose-up wing-and-a-prayer attitude to transition to the eventual glide slope into safe harbour, flanked by two T-38 workhorse trainer jets.

Of course, like every VIP visitor to the "backstage" All-Access, high-security area, we individually thought privately of the dreadful moments when Challenger exploded soon after launch and later when Columbia burned up on re-entry after sustaining leading edge wing tile damage, both incidents resulting in the tragic loss of all crew.

Before and since, many brave men and women have walked the lonely walk to the transit vehicles taking them out to the launch pad, no doubt with such thoughts circulating ominously somewhere in the background, however tamed and controlled they have to be at such a moment. Mike Fossum, successor to Cady Coleman on the ISS was our other companion astronaut and gave us, along with Cady, the personal emotive touch that humanises such brave and intrepid endeavour.

Mike took a copy of the Tull Aqualung CD on one of his earlier shuttle missions and it is fun to think of the sounds of Cross-eyed Mary and My God thundering through the still, dry atmosphere of the Shuttle Discovery. Except that he probably wore headphones as respect for privacy must be uppermost in the close confines of a spaceship. Need a tiddle, anyone? Then look the other way.

Actually the lavvy-loo is a mini-cubicle with a suprisingly ordinary loo and seat. Hadn't the nerve to ask to use it although bursting for a wee. Apparently, there are attachments for connecting the male and female body parts to the waste tank. The early sub-orbital flight of Alan Shepard might not have required strategic thinking to any great degree but from the John Glenn orbital flight onwards, the Shower, Pee and Poo Research department of NASA must have scratched heads and everywhere else in coming up with Solutions To Ablutions for longer stays in space. I would love to have seen some of the designs that didn't make it... In NASA acronym parlance, that department was probably called SPPR. Or, S2A.....

We then went off to visit the Vehicle Assembly Building (yes - you guessed it - VAB) to stand in the vast space which, at 500 ft high and with a single span roof is still the biggest building of its type in the world, even after nearly 50 years. David Goodier summed up the sight and feeling as "It's not just a VAB - it's a cathedral," which was very apt. The spiritual sense of awe and optimistic hope were truly overwhelming.

At the far end, some 200 metres away, was a mock-up of the proposed new Orion spacecraft and some experimental work going on to test some new ideas for escape mechanisms in the event of immediate post-launch failure. Surprisingly, we were were allowed to watch and even see close-up the working test models of the possible systems. I was tempted to start talking in a Russian or Chinese accent but the joke might not have been appreciated...

Finally, off to Launch Pad A, standing silent, forlorn and empty a few miles away. After a drive-around, some special permission for us to get right up to the pad structure itself was mysteriously granted by "powers-that-be" and we were allowed to take photos but had to remain on the transit bus. Except, of course, Astronaut Catherine Coleman who jumped out and defied regulations by posing in front of the gantry structure for what we can only assume will be a NASA Lady Astronaut photo calendar. Cady remained, discretely and firmly incased in her blue flight suit, or Smurf suit as fellow Astro Mike Fossum dubbed it. All caught on CCTV, I'm sure.

So, many thanks to all at NASA who made this visit possible and who greeted us with such warmth and knowledgable enthusiasm.

As an era of space flight draws to a close, I wonder if the next US President - whoever it turns out to be - will renew support for the work of three generations of engineers, scientists and astronauts who have made all this possible. The funding, cut down as it now is, may not be the most prioritised in the minds of either government or the US tax-payer, but I hope that the future is brighter than the employees at NASA fear. So many have recently lost their jobs in the downsizing and this recession economy. The greatest minds in space exploration surely must be given the resources to continue to pioneer to the other planets, the asteroids and, one day, to the stars. No more fitting legacy could there possibly be for the crews of Columbia and Challenger than to support this work for the long term future.

Per aspera ad astra, and all that.

Over and Out. GB signing off.

PS Houston, we have a problem. AND the solution.

www.jethrotull.com/news/bostockblog.html

[Deleted]

Southern Calfornia to Old Europe - Part 11

Latest news from the lyric writer of the original "Thick as a Brick."

Bugger me but what a whirlwind tour! Been a bit quiet on the diary front as of late due to extreme work pressure on tour in the USA Pt 2 and then the prep and advance work on the Euro Winter tour. We did have a week at home but my feet (being on the end of rather short and stocky legs) hardly touched the ground at the office desk.

We started up in the US in San Diego which I had never visited before. Really a rather nice town with the heart of a city-scape informed by Art Deco and the Spanish influences of an architectural decorative sort. A suitable entree to the wide and sunny world of California and all it suggests to the novice Big Cal Traveller. Touches of NYC in the throbbing heartbeat of downtown. But, we were only there for a day before setting off up the coast beyond Sana Barbara to the valleys of Santa Ynez - a pleasant but long drive to stay in a hotel in the nearby Solvang - a quaint little tourist town rather irritatingly modelled on a far-off Danish idyll replete with half timbered (ply and insulation fre-fab) houses and pseudo-European country gift stores. What bollocks! What utter tripe! Disney-Dane daftness.

The gig was in the Chumash Casino. Looked everywhere for a Chumash warrior or even a lost Apache but in vain. Whilst the booze and decadence abounds front-of-house in casinos, backstage is often a desert when it comes to a decent tot of firewater. Didn't exactly put Mr A in a good mood when the runner I had organised to pick him up from the hotel went AWOL resulting in a delayed soundcheck.

I really think I have learned to do a decent job in my weeks of tour management initiation. But sometimes, when things go wrong, as they evidently do, one takes the blame, rather, for the neglect and intransigence of other, lesser, mortals.

Wending our way down through Palm Springs area and back to Long Beach CA gave a glimpse of Southern Californian automobile culture and the endless 6-lane freeways where trucks and cars compete to see who can change lanes most often without signalling. Everyone seems to drive constantly at 10 mph over the speed limit so there are no slow and fast lanes as such. The sensitive and retiring voiture pilote must throw all caution to the wind and join the lemming rush to the next exit where last-minute signage - often blocked by a high-sided truck - produce terrifying disarray in the darting movement of vehicles either avoiding or inadvertantly taking the exit lane which looms without warning and so-easily consigns the unwary to the dark underbelly of urban wasteland.

Mrs A arrives in the rental car hot and flustered after such day-time journeys and has to be consoled with Tea and Marlboro. We charabanc people, cosseted and cocooned in the slumber-womb of Earl Jones's sleeper-bus have little idea of all of this mayhem but wake in the morning refreshed to take in a new postcard environment and try to figure where the nearest Starbucks is. And who hid Florian's socks and moved his guitar-case 2 centimetres off-line in its carefully placed - some might venture to say OCD - repose.

Long winding drive to Salt Lake City while The Master and Mates flew budget airline through the sunny blue skies for a midst-Mormon night off. Then the weather started to turn cold and a bit nasty. And remained so for much of the subsequent dates. Texas warmed us up again for a while, especially as we reunited with the NASA shuttle and ISS crews and a few wives and workers who came to the Houston show. Astronaut Coleman took the band to The Johnson Space Centre and they visited the original and the current Mission Control buildings as well as the underwater zero-G simulator. Mr A was en route by car from Dallas so couldn't be there in time.

The after-show meet and greet was mainly for the Astros and we met up with Italian Astronaut Paulo Nespoli who the band all knew from last year (before my time) as well as Coleman and Fossum. Mrs C joined the band on-stage for the encore and, while waiting in the wings for the go-button to be pressed, quipped that it was pretty much on a par with sitting atop a Soyuz in Baikonur as far as heart-thumping moments go.

Beats me that, in mid recession, NASA is spending countless millions training new astronauts at this time while the old guys are already trained, fit, experienced and ready to roll once more in service of the country, mankind and within the restraints of budget. Hell - I might volunteer myself. I'm about the right age for it....

The bad weather returned with a vengeance as the concerns regarding the imminent Hurricane Sandy began to surface. Mrs A slept with the Weather Channel on, so I learned, as it might threaten the travel arrangements of the flyers in the latter stages of the tour. Luckily, it didn't, but tragically for many Americans in the New Jersey and NYC areas, it most certainly did. You know the rest. Our travel Agent, Debra Michaels, lost home and contents in the floods out on Long Island where evacuation was necessary and she now faces many months to to completely rebuild and re-equip. We all wish her and her partner Benjamin the best in picking up the pieces of their lives and getting back on track in the New Year.

So, with the last dying vestige of the super-storm playing out in the burbs of the Midwest we all flew back from ORD to a miserable UK climate, fully prepared, at least, for whatever Winter throws at us here.

And on to Old Europe. After wrestling with the last few details of the tour itinerary, I helped pack up equipment and load the bus, driven by the irrepressible Yorky - a sort of Tennessee cowboy from Oop North or, perhaps, Earl Jones with a flat 'at and a pint of IPA. I rather suspect he doesn't eat his fruit and veg either at catering.

Overnight to Brussels for the first show last night and Mr A with the lingering chest infection as a result of the cold picked up two days efroe the end of the US tour. But he got through it and the antibiotics are starting to kick in so all should be well for the remainder of the dates this year. No one, including me, would have noticed except for a couple of places where the aerobic necessities of fluting and singing non-stop resulted in a shortened note or more frequent gasp for air.

I received the sad news after the show, in a nearby bar, that my services were likely to be dispensed with at the end of this calendar year as there is a long stint with no work in the early part of 2013. If "long stint" can describe 6 weeks off! But the tour dates in Japan, South America and a couple of other planned trips utilise local tour managers and there is little for me to do. Except, perhaps learn Japanese.

To tell the truth (as I always try - if bluntly - to do) I am rather relieved that it seems to be drawing to a close. I had a whiff of the likely termination during the gap between the US tours but thought it merely gossip and blether. But now, it seems that your trusty gofer, fixer and loyal laundry-facilitator is about to join the ranks of the greasy and unwashed unemployed. Norman Tebbitt sent a note yesterday to my home offering his thoughts, prayers and the loan of a bicycle which I might use to go in search of work until I find it......

Whilst stacking the shelves at the local Waitrose might be a short-term option, I rather fancy being the old lag who rounds up abandoned trolleys in the car park and repatriates them to the pit lane for rejoining the final lap in the Christmas Grand Prix Food-shopping debacle. Which really is the case since the Old Bag tells me that the local Waitrose management, in its infinite wisdom, has completely reorganised the counters and displays so the experience is back to front and all the regular shoppers are in a frantic muddle to find their weekly supplies. And bad-tempered, to boot, as there is nothing like the enraged Waitrose Senior Citizen customer on a rant and rampage through the hallowed aisles of the Most Holy Church Of Waitrose, a John Lewis Company. Some, it is rumoured, bring their own trolleys with Roman Chariot-like blades on the wheels to snap at the heels of the dodderers and the indecisive. And sharp pointy studs on the front of the basket for parting the Red Sea in the fruit and veg aisle. One - Mrs Harbottle, QC retired, of Little Grunting - has a bicycle bell which she mounts on the front (and an electric cattle prod too, no doubt). Not seen her myself as she goes on Wednesdays, I'm told. Friday shopper me. Old Bag has a thing about poking at the beef and inspecting the dead, vacant eyes of the fish while looking for the best of everything before the weekend. Freeze the lot, I say and eat when you want.

I'll try to manage another of these before the end of the tour and you perhaps don't hear from me again. Although - and it is just an although - I might get back to writing again in the New Year to try my hand at songwriting. Picked up a few tricks on these tours and strummed a few dodgy chords on Ryan's dressing room guitar when he wasn't looking. I've got this great riff on the go currently..... I can just imagine it cranking up the opening cadences of a new concept album of Progressive Rock. Or Progressive Metal, perhaps, since I have a secret and unfulfilled hankering for the tightness of trouser and the toss of mane.

Over and Out. GB signing off.

PS: Da-da-da-da daaah da.... Or has that been done before?


Copyright © 2012. Jethrotull.com. All Rights Reserved.

[Deleted]

Will the real Gerald Bostock please stand up?

[Deleted]

New one up!

OOOOOhhhhhh! Coming thick and fast, aren't they....

THE BOSTOCK DIARIES CHAPTER 12

Norwegian Wood, wouldn't he?

Into the wilds of Denmark to a quaint little town called Struer for an evening off. Cold, raining, windy but, thankfully, with the charming little theatre we were to play just across the road from the hotel. As was the rather noisy bar where we ate dreary bar-food and drank slightly less dreary bar ale. But a night off is a night off. Is a night off. Chris Archer went on a bean-shopping expedition (he eats only baked beans from a can, drinks gallons of milk and laces it with Kahlua when he can find it). Mike Downs stayed in his room doing whatever it is he does in his room and won't tell of. Not to a soul. Dark and dirty doings in the Downs mini-suite. Tom and Manny went to enjoy aperitifs, serious drinks and after-dinner drinks while the rest of us ate, chatted and indulged our weary bods in a ridiculously early bedtime.

Anderson splashed out on a spot of early Christmas present buying the next morning and we crew lackies went to the venue to do the setup and prepare for soundcheck. The gem-like little Struer show was what is termed "a filler" being too small to make money but big enough to offset expenses of a day on the road before Copenhagen.

A late load-in to Copenhagen made for a stressful afternoon and soundcheck - due to the promoter saving his money by not deigning to engage local crew for the morning's work. Which meant that sound and lights were still loading in at 13.00 when I arrived off the train from Struer with Mr A.

But things were to get worse. The Norwegian promoter had constantly failed to provide advance information regarding travel and showtimes for weeks before the shows which meant I could only complete the itinerary the day before the tour started and the only-then-announced late load-in times for the Norwegian shows could be challenged.

Seemed that the local orchestras had priority use of the venues for morning rehearsals and relegated our crew to even later load-ins at 14.00 or even 15.00 in the case of Bergen. Tosspots! Wankers! And worse. State-subsidised orchestras bumping us free-market wallahs is despicable. We, and those like us, pay our way, rent the venue facilities to bring money into those venues to offset the hideous, taxpayer-subsidised haughty culture of the Orchestral industry. Which otherwise loses a small fortune.

Now, don't get me wrong. By all means support your local orchestra but do they really have to preciously insist on rehearsing in the venue itself? What's wrong with the school hall or the rehearsal venues which other orchestras in the UK or USA use? So, yet again, more frantic and desperate attempts to bring in the soundcheck at a time before doors opened for the punters. Stress, unreasonable work hours, and little time for a coffee or a bit to eat.

Promoter should have stated all this when he took the shows. And the long, long hours of bus travel, which I queried ages before in my concern as to Winter travel in Norway were almost to prove our undoing. "No problem, good roads," the promoter had said. Well the reality was snow and more snow and 13 hours from Skien to Bergen. With the resultant late soundcheck and stressful day. But the mood lightened as we arrived in Oslo for the last show. A hotel bed at last and fond farewell to Yorkie the bus driver as he started the journey back to the West Country to drop backline at the warehouse and have the bus disinfected and quarantined.

Then, for us BA flyers, off to sunny Italy via a short London stop-over while Mr A went home for a even shorter night in his own bed.

Did I just say, "sunny?" Nooooooo dear readers - Italy brought rain, cold and weather on a par with Norway.. So, onset of wicked and bleak Winter looks set to define the final week of the TAAB tours for me and a cold one to boot. Just as well that I packed my warm overcoat - the one TOB (The Old Bag) gave me for the trip to Lewis in the Outer Hebrides a few years back when she drank too much peaty malt and fell off the back of the sofa in the empty hotel bar. Tartan stockings and those awful navy blue school knickers on display to the watching world. Which, happily, it wasn't, having stayed in to watch the Inverness v Celtic match on the Telly-V.

Read an interesting summary this morning of old pal Stewart Wood's recent BBC radio broadcast with boss and dear leader Ed Miliband in which he recounted his anecdotal TAAB moment where the then freshly-anointed Mr Ed was dismayed to see what he thought was the morning newspaper review of his first speech as party supremo, screaming from the screensaver of advisor and Tull-fan Baron Wood's Blackberry: "Thick As A Brick! " It required a full explanation from the amused advisor as Mr Ed is not of the Tull generation, it seems.

Labour Peers must enjoy their little joke.

I, myself, was up for peer status a couple of years back but quickly let it be known such titles, jollies and perks were not for me. Retirement was looming and losing a previously safe seat not a testimony to enjoy from the Lofty pedestal of The Lords. Ed is a decent fellow, to be sure, but that chief advisor, Baron Wood of Anfield, may yet steer him down the wrong path to drink, drugs and indiscretion at the Cinnamon Club, the Indian restaurant frequented by politicos and journos in the dark, satanic streets of Little Westminster-on-Thames.

On a different and entirely more relevant topic, I have recently sojourned online to visit a certain German musical instrument website to purchase a clone Gibson Les Paul type electric guitar in order to better understand the complexities (and simplicities) of the metal-axe-man madness which is about to enter my life.

A group of us ex-politicos are to get together, I can now announce, to set up a cross-party platform for Hard Rock in the shape of (first suggestion as to band name only) The Commoners - who will self-pen a few ditties as well plunder the back catalogue of a some old-school worthies. Not Jethro Tull material (a bit too - well - complicated) but more like Iron Maiden, AC/DC and Meatloaf if we can find a good enough singer. As Cyril Smith is no longer with us and, anyway, not exactly in favour with those he is said to abused, we may have to find a skinny guy with a fat-suit. Nigel Lawson?

And no - T. Blair need nor apply. Even if his wife Sherry-Cherry would let him. He is a Fender man through and through and we will have nothing of that jangly, twangy, nonsense here: what I have purchased are (eat your hearts out mealy-mouthed Fender-noodlers) a 1967-style Goodson Lee Spall, (made lovingly by a small hand in Korea) finished in distressed sunburst, and fitted with twin Grunt Afterburner Mk II humbuckers set for the heart of the nun.... Marshall stack with vintage Black Dwarf 12" titanium-coned speakers. A Tube-Sim Obliterator Pre-amp with digital multi-FX and a MySnake 20' graphite core, ruggedised guitar lead with the platinum-plated jacks. A donkey-leather strap edged in badger fur and guitar picks made from recycled endangered sea-turtle shell.

Just have to learn to play the damned thing and I'm in business.

Well - not really business. Just for fun. TOB is, surprisingly, in favour of all of this. Gets me out of the house, or more like, keeps me out of the house. Tull crew egging me on. IA sceptical but promises a space on the website to announce our first gig. Baron Wood in strong support. Even thinking of changing his Blackberry screensaver to a .jpg of The Commoners in drag with a naked Brad Pitt lookalike tied in bondage-fashion at our vinyl-booted feet. Wonder what the saintly Mr Ed will make of that?

Over and Out. GB signing off.

PS: Anyone got a well-thumbed copy of Bert Weedon's "Play In A Day"?
C major looks straightforward enough but Bb7th seems to invite a seriously dislocated pinky.

© J-tull.com/Tull Management
see more at www.j-tull.com

[Deleted]

new one

Hello, how are you, Merry Chrissie and a Happy New Year, dear readers. Wanna pull my cracker?

THE BOSTOCK DIARIES CHAPTER 13

A New Beginning

Well - Christmas and New Year came and went. Just about quickly enough.

While the Anderson tribe went about their saintly business of redecorating the cathedrals and churches of the realm, The Old Bag and I took a little trip to a Cotswold countryside Spa Hotel, "The Snootery", to enjoy a long weekend of self-indulgence in the wet and soggy surroundings of the park. We had newly-built off-lying cottage accommodation booked but, due to lack of other guests and the inclement weather, were upgraded to the bridal suite in the main building. Just as well as the December Atlantic depressions were so atrocious we hardly left the hotel. TOB had some Spa beauty treatments in the vain hope, I imagine, that I might wish to take fuller advantage of the marital bed. Skin peels and hot, waxy oil dripping out of every pore, however, are not likely to get this old engine started.

Home again to the Rectory where, being on low ground, we were subjected to three feet of water in the cellar and a small lake where the driveway used to be. Wettest December since records began, they said at the Met Office. Smugly and with n apology whatsoever. Half of the countryside was under water around St Cleve and the roads impassable for days on end. Tried in vain twice to get to the Clutterburuy Waitrose to do the Christmas food-shopping but ended up with a frantic last-minute dash for the last turkey in town two days before the big day. A bottle of 12 year old Talisker single malt and some own-brand cooking brandy for TOB rounded off the £200 or so it cost to stock up for the the next week, given that we had to at least appear sociable with the neighbours.

Archie Parritt invited us over for his customary drinks and supper-do at Cruddock Hall and even had the pool heated and available for the last guests to take a wild late-night dip, so we heard. Not being exactly mad about Bunga-Bunga-style revelry, TOB insisted we leave early and try three-in-a-bed with old Silvio back at our place instead. Just kidding. Actually, he could have helped me out that night as it happened....

Heads down and wait for it all to go away. That's my idea of Christmas and the New Year. TV was rubbish. How many times do we have to watch "Love Actually" to find out if Keira Knightly ever gets it off with the best man (who bears a striking similarity to Sheriff Rick Grimes in "The Walking Dead").

And so to January with real snow and real Winter promise! I spent a happy afternoon in the Old Library bookshop with Matt Bunter and his collection of marvellous tomes of all sorts. Historical romances. Politically incorrect Victorian extravaganzas and..... a very interesting, if flawed, unpublished manuscript by Ernest T. Parritt, local amateur historian and grandfather of the present Lord Archie and, who, it turns out, had a curious penchant for historical observation and a bit of fortune-telling to boot.

Apparently he wrote this in 1928 in the drawing room at Cruddock Hall during a hideous early Winter. Unable to venture out to shoot pheasant or seduce the local lassies at the Turnpike Inn, he whiled away six long weeks penning a yarn of ancient history of the British Isles laced with juicy predictions of things to come.

Matt and I were both enthralled and amused by his well-intended scholarly meanderings and so I took it home to draw some inspiration for ideas for lyrics for the band I am putting together in my age of febrile
middle age crisis. In a mere few weeks, The Commoners will have a debut gig to a few old buddies from the back benches in a tavern in darkest Westminster and I hope I can achieve a level of competence by then in the art of axe-bashing, or whatever you call it.

Young Florian Opahle has promised to come over from Munchen to offer a bit of guitar tuition and performance guidance if I bestow upon Easyjet the princely sum of £45 each way plus a ride from Gatwick.

TOB will have her work cut out to feed him as he is an enthusiastic eater. A sausage man and pie enthusiast, he will find little to sustain him at Waitrose now that haggis season has closed after Burns night. Happily, the Dirty Duck has a Bavarian Night scheduled in early March so perhaps he will find sweet solace in the palest of white sausage, suckling pig-knuckle or blood-soaked varieties of Kronfleischküche in his communication with the recently departed. Enough to conjure a stiffy from a necromancer. Fist of pork with mustard and lashings of lardy excess will one day send young Opahle heavenward on a fluffy cloud of self-loathing. "Serves the bugger flippin' right," as half-veggie Anderson might say.

Lord Anfield (Woodsy) called the other day and asked me if we might take gentlemen's lunch at a favourite Bangladeshi haunt in Brick Lane. Methinks he has darker motives. Could it be he sees a place for an old dog in shadow cabinet meetings? Shadow Minister with seriously-mislaid portfolio?

Mr Ed may, or may not, know about this blatant attempt to seduce the old dog from its cozy kennel but I rather fancy the Sag Prawn with the Tarka Dal and a couple of fat Naan breads. In for a penny, in for the full quid. Bugger me stiff with a red-hot poker, but I think I might take up his hospitality. I would offer to pay, of course, but exalted High-Labour toffs have to show off a bit. Pick up the tab and slap backs. Show they are not above wining and dining the lowly and the lost.

Over and Out. GB signing off.

PS: Pass the Immodium, there's a good chap.

copyright j-tull.com

[mike]

Still as Tight as ever.... "Easyjet the princely sum of £45 each way plus a ride from Gatwick"



Mike

[Sparty]

Yes, I read them and even pass them along. I find it to be good and original writing and think it adds even greater depth to the Anderson/Tull project. I've received positive (albeit not universally) feedback from those to whom I've forwarded the material. I'm finding it resonates with at least a certain narrow demographic!

[Deleted]

Little update from Gerald.

"Had a nice email from IA and band saying how much they missed me! From Spain, in fact, where they were about their sordid business playing a few concerts with the TAAB show. No one got sick. Bad days of travel but all went well in spite of concerns regarding production and lack of information from the local promoter.

I have been fiddling with my rock lyrical masterpiece. Fine-tuning and editing. I hope to show the outline to the music-meister when he returns today. Maybe I can persuade him, over a glass of local ale at the Dirty Duck, to consider it for a music project - just as we did those 41 long years ago when I was a nipper. Precocious little bastard I was, in fact, but I grew out of it. Or did I? Well, I like to think so. I am really rather shy, if truth be known, and dreaded those PM's questions when I had to get up and pretend to represent my constituents over some trifling matter. A nuclear base. A road closure. A farmyard disease of bovine proportions.

Ah, well - now the creative juices are flowing in a different direction (certainly not towards the nethers of of The Old Bag, who is somewhat detached at present having taken up Zen studies and is shortly off to a Buddhist retreat) I shall concentrate on my concept album and offer up a few tasty guitar licks, courtesy of Florian Opahle's tuition. Florian has a new girlfriend, I heard, and may not have time for his old pal, but I shall ask him anyway. He just turned thirty this month and may have other things on his mind. Still, when you hit 51, as I shall later this year, there is plenty of time for reflection and concern. Must go off for that prostate check. The wriggly finger and the blood-sucker await....

But first, to call Mr A and try to have that get-together and show him the first draft. Fingers crossed he likes it. Otherwise, I shall be forced to take it to Iron Maiden."

copyright J-Tull.com and Tull Management

[Deleted]

.....a look into the future,,maybe

[Deleted]

A bit of blatent product placement from 'Gerald'

Off to see Django unchained this afternoon with nearby resident Andrew Lincoln of Walking Dead fame. Apparently the new episode did 16 m viewers last night, beating all cable/sat records. So he can pay for the popcorn and the diet pepsi....

The Walking Dead hits 12.3m and sets a US cable ratings record
AMC series The Walking Dead, which airs on Fox here in the UK, has pulled in hugely impressive ratings.

Andrew Lincoln in The Walking Dead. Image. Image.net
Zombie drama The Walking Dead, which airs on AMC in the US and Fox in the UK, has become an unstoppable monster in the ratings.

In the US, the premiere episode kicking off the second half of the third season returned with its largest ever audience in the history of the series; 12.3 million viewers for the 9pm premiere alone.

Repeated same-night broadcasts of the debut episode took the figure to 16.6 million viewers for the night.

The Walking Dead, starring British actor Andrew Lincoln and featuring fellow Brit David Morrissey, has grown into one of the biggest US shows around based on the all-important Adult 18-49 demographic rating.

It has attracted more viewers in this age range than the likes of The Voice, Modern Family, X Factor USA, Two and a Half Men and Grey's Anatomy.

It has even out-rated The Big Bang Theory in the key adult demo rating. US audience measurement company Nielsen says a cable series has never reached that big an audience in that particular advertiser-friendly age group.

Make no bones about it (heh), The Walking Dead is a phenomenon.

After a nail-bitingly anxious wait, it will return to Fox for its UK premiere on Friday 15 February at 10pm.

So far this season, we've met new foes, said goodbye to old friends and witnessed a whole load of zombie kills, not to mention an epic cliff-hanger that left fans desperate for more.

After a heart-stopping mid-season finale so gob-smackingly epic, the second half of the third season is sure to be a killer (geddit?). But will it also produce eye-popping ratings in the UK? Watch this space.

[TM]

Is that all from Gerald? He seems quite familiar with all the statistics.

[Deleted]

more update than blog

The writing of lyrics is coming along a treat. I have some musical ideas too. Hope Anderson likes the idea. Mr A is off on hols in Barbados, apparently. And then, immediately goes to South America. So I may have to send it to him by email. Rather impersonal. I wanted to try to explain it all in person. Tricky chap, Prog Rock Lyrics....

The Old Bag has taken up yoga. What a tangle. Bloody legs round her ears and arse pointed at the ceiling. About as attractive as a mangrove root.

Well, back to the writing and a King Prawn Vindaloo, left over from the lads night out at the Clutterbury Taj Mahal. Oh bugger. I just sat on a poppadom.....

Copyright J-Tull.com

[TM]

It's really great to see Ian so enthusiastic about making new music. I have a very good feeling about his next release.

[Morthoron]

Feb 27, 2013 10:33:21 GMT -5 TM said:

It's really great to see Ian so enthusiastic about making new music. I have a very good feeling about his next release.

Thick as a Brick III...Wherein Gerald Bostock gets caught by a neighbor buying Depends at the pharmacy, chases kids off his lawn, finds his pension is not enough to live on and gets a job as a greeter at Walmart, and waxes poetic over a senior discount coffee at the local McDonalds.

[Nonfatman]

Feb 27, 2013 23:43:50 GMT -5 Morthoron said:

Feb 27, 2013 10:33:21 GMT -5 TM said:

It's really great to see Ian so enthusiastic about making new music. I have a very good feeling about his next release.

Thick as a Brick III...Wherein Gerald Bostock gets caught by a neighbor buying Depends at the pharmacy, chases kids off his lawn, finds his pension is not enough to live on and gets a job as a greeter at Walmart, and waxes poetic over a senior discount coffee at the local McDonalds.

LOL. I was thinking the same thing, i.e., that Brick 3 could be a case of The Brick jumping the shark, unless, or especially if, it's tied into some crazy story where Gerald croaks and then all of a sudden we're into his afterlife, in which case Brick 3 morphs into APP 2.

Jeff

[Deleted]

Feb 28, 2013 0:08:47 GMT -5 Nonfatman said:

Feb 27, 2013 23:43:50 GMT -5 Morthoron said:

Thick as a Brick III...Wherein Gerald Bostock gets caught by a neighbor buying Depends at the pharmacy, chases kids off his lawn, finds his pension is not enough to live on and gets a job as a greeter at Walmart, and waxes poetic over a senior discount coffee at the local McDonalds.

LOL. I was thinking the same thing, i.e., that Brick 3 could be a case of The Brick jumping the shark, unless, or especially if, it's tied into some crazy story where Gerald croaks and then all of a sudden we're into his afterlife, in which case Brick 3 morphs into APP 2.

Jeff

pretty sure taab2 was jumping the shark.

[yvonne]

does any one know about the 'Warchild' conceptual outline that Ian wrote? For a film of the same he wanted to make. Probably not posting to the right place here.

[TM]

Feb 28, 2013 10:48:33 GMT -5 yvonne said:

does any one know about the 'Warchild' conceptual outline that Ian wrote? For a film of the same he wanted to make. Probably not posting to the right place here.

Hi Yvonne, and welcome to the board. You can read about that here:

thejethrotullboard.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=general&thread=1809&page=1#12144

[TM]

Feb 28, 2013 0:08:47 GMT -5 Nonfatman said:

Feb 27, 2013 23:43:50 GMT -5 Morthoron said:

Thick as a Brick III...Wherein Gerald Bostock gets caught by a neighbor buying Depends at the pharmacy, chases kids off his lawn, finds his pension is not enough to live on and gets a job as a greeter at Walmart, and waxes poetic over a senior discount coffee at the local McDonalds.

LOL. I was thinking the same thing, i.e., that Brick 3 could be a case of The Brick jumping the shark, unless, or especially if, it's tied into some crazy story where Gerald croaks and then all of a sudden we're into his afterlife, in which case Brick 3 morphs into APP 2.

Jeff

Yes well so much for trying to stay positive.

My initial reaction was exactly the same as yours Jeff as I mentioned the same thing to Kai in another thread.

But thinking about it from a musical perspective; Ian has stated that he wants to do a hard rock album, and he seems to be dropping hints that this may be that album.

While Greg's synopsis is very funny, perhaps this album may be about the struggle to stay young. Let's face it, most of us are dealing with that now and the younger folks amongst us will be there soon enough.

Just a thought...

[Nonfatman]

Feb 28, 2013 2:05:10 GMT -5 @tulltapes said:

Feb 28, 2013 0:08:47 GMT -5 Nonfatman said:

LOL. I was thinking the same thing, i.e., that Brick 3 could be a case of The Brick jumping the shark, unless, or especially if, it's tied into some crazy story where Gerald croaks and then all of a sudden we're into his afterlife, in which case Brick 3 morphs into APP 2.

Jeff

pretty sure taab2 was jumping the shark.

I thought that too until I saw the show. But the two Bricks together worked extremely well as a unified whole. Ian's idea, fully realized in concert, was clevely executed and musically superb. I was blown away by it. At the NJPAC show in particular, I felt, for the first time in many years, the familiar goose bumps and shivers going up my spine straight up through the top of my cranium, as we all used to in the old days of Tull, when a Tull show was almost like some kind of religious experience.

I also liked how he went the full nine yards with the concept of resurrecting Gerald, having him do a blog, and the re-invention of the St. Cleve Chronicle as an online local newspaper, with fans able to contribute their own gag stories, was brilliant.

TAAB2 is one of those albums, like Rock Island and RTB, that is simply much better played live. It was made to be performed to a rock audience. (That is not true of all of Ian's albums, for instance I didn't think the Catfish Rising material worked very well in concert).

As a stand-alone studio recording, divorced from the performance context, I don't think as highly of TAAB2, with the exception of the lyrics which I think are right up there with Ian's best-ever. I'm not sure I would trade it for any of Ian's other solo albums, with the exception perhaps of Rupi's Dance, and I would probably rank it below most, if not all, Tull albums, even the lesser Tull albums.

Jeff

[Deleted]

Feb 28, 2013 12:54:09 GMT -5 Nonfatman said:

Feb 28, 2013 2:05:10 GMT -5 @tulltapes said:

pretty sure taab2 was jumping the shark.

I thought that too until I saw the show. But the two Bricks together worked extremely well as a unified whole. Ian's idea, fully realized in concert, was clevely executed and musically superb. I was blown away by it. At the NJPAC show in particular, I felt, for the first time in many years, the familiar goose bumps and shivers going up my spine straight up through the top of my cranium, as we all used to in the old days of Tull, when a Tull show was almost like some kind of religious experience.

I also liked how he went the full nine yards with the concept of resurrecting Gerald, having him do a blog, and the re-invention of the St. Cleve Chronicle as an online local newspaper, with fans able to contribute their own gag stories, was brilliant.

TAAB2 is one of those albums, like Rock Island and RTB, that is simply much better played live. It was made to be performed to a rock audience. (That is not true of all of Ian's albums, for instance I didn't think the Catfish Rising material worked very well in concert).

As a stand-alone studio recording, divorced from the performance context, I don't think as highly of TAAB2, with the exception of the lyrics which I think are right up there with Ian's best-ever. I'm not sure I would trade it for any of Ian's other solo albums, with the exception perhaps of Rupi's Dance, and I would probably rank it below most, if not all, Tull albums, even the lesser Tull albums.

Jeff

I don't disagree about the music overall or the show Jeff. There is some really great refreshing stuff that I love on taab2. As a body of work and theatrical presentation I enjoy it. And I love that Ian's creative juices are flowing again. The concept of Gerald being revised from a lyrical standpoint is also great. I think if it was done a little differently it still would have been as great and just a little more respectable. Little things like repeating the line "thick as a brick" over the Pebbles instrumental or revising "your wisemen don't know how it feels" at the end of the record seemed to me a bit unnecessary.
But who the F am I? ;D Ian is the artist and has to do what he feels is appropriate.
For my own taste though I feel it was still "jumping the shark" by officially dumping Martin and naming the album TAAB "PART 2" Like it was some Sci-fi movie sequel. I had seen other bands do this and it just never sat well with me. Seemed a little cheesy and a way to milk the name for more money..Largely due to the fact that it's always done as a sequel to a record which originally had groundbreaking sales. ("Bat out of Hell 2" etc..) Even Ian was unsure about how it would go over at first. I think he knows now that people for the most part will buy into anything.
Also, since there has been a resurgence of "progressive rock" a term which Ian did not like being associated with for many years, refusing to perform most of the more progressive material of his own. He now has embraced it. I understand that artists are desperate to sell physical product these days and Ian is in a pretty good position as far as back catalog is concerned. I have myself spent hundreds of dollars on Thick as a Brick in the past year!! And I'm sure I will spend hundreds on Passion Play reissues, after all it is my favorite album. I think Ian is still capable of writing an amazing album or concept album without having to rely on using 40 year old titles to get recognition or sales. Something good enough would sell itself. At the end of the day..in 2013, I'll take what I can get. But TAAB 3? really?