In the beginning...

 In the beginning there were three entities...

Father

Son

and Bird.

They lived in a place called Heaven and drove around in a big black ute known as God.

How the three of them got together in the first place, no one knows. Maybe because the Father, for whatever reason, looked older than his pal, they found the names amusing? Maybe it just seemed natural to them that one of them was a bird? At this point they obviously were not showing any concern about transgender issues.

Anyway, these three beings were perfect and didn't make mistakes. They also knew the future so, whatever they created, and how it turned out, was really their responsibility - unless they could shift the blame onto someone, or something, else.

"Let's fool around with making some creatures."
said the Father.  

"I'm thinking of sexless creatures. Yes, yes, I know I was excited when I invented sex, but these creatures will be second only to us. We'll call them angels. Hey, I do have this sneaky little scheme that I'll tell you about later."

"Okay." said the Bird.

"I'm in." said the Son. "But tell us now about your scheme."

"Well, okay." said the Father. "First we make these angels, but we rig things so that one of them becomes a bad guy. Obviously, he'll never know what has happened. Then we make a bad place to send him to. Then we make another group of people we'll call humans. We'll use sex so that one is a man, the boss, and the other is a woman - no cock, so how can she be the boss? Remember that these two won't need belly buttons - that'll only become necessary with Plan B. We'll set up a plan for the woman so that she stuffs up and needs to be punished. Now here's the great bit - we create something called Original Sin and stick it onto everyone else who comes along in Plan B!"

"Brilliant!" said the Bird and then he squawked.

The Father carried on. "An important ingredient in all of this will be guilt. I invented that this morning." 

The three of them figured out how all of this could work. The 'fallen angel' would be called Lucifer and sometimes referred to as Satan. His domain would be called Hell and humans who didn't get the point of Original Sin would be sent there, forever. No mucking around. They'd organize a book called The Bible that would set up all the rules. They also discussed a set of rules called The Ten Commandments.

"Hey, Father, I think you've just invented morals!" said the Son with excitement.

The three of them felt ready to go and excitedly took a ride in God. On the way the world was created. 

Then they set to work on the angels and chose the one to be Lucifer.

Their ride in the big black ute lasted for six days. On the seventh day they rested.

"Let's call that a week." said the Bird.

The Son turned some water into Cleanskin and they all chilled out and got a bit pissed.

Yep, that's how it all started. Have faith or you'll be down there with Lucifer.

"I woke up this morning to the sound of a train. I said, I woke up this morning to the sound of a train. My alarm clock's working but I couldn't hear it for the rain."

Actually, it's not raining in Wainuiomata at present.* That title is just words I wrote for a song in 1977. 

The song was called the Taumarunui Blues. Here are the words I remember:

I woke up this morning to the sound of a train. I said, 

I woke up this morning to the sound of a train.

My alarm clock's working but I couldn't hear it for the rain.

Now Taumarunui ain't a one horse town, I said

Taumarunui ain't a one horse town.

Them horses got more sense, ain't a single horse for fifty miles around.

I've got the Tau, Tau, Tau, Taumarunui Blues.

I've got the Tau, Tau, Tau, Taumarunui Blues.

I'm stuck here in Taumarunui, that's why I'm singing these blues.

Taumarunui

Actually, Taumarunui is really quite a nice little town and quite a bit of fun was had there. I was just a bit depressed at the time. Anyway, I still remember the song.

I don't know what made that pop into my head. Yes, I do. I'd just woken up and thought it was raining outside. Many blues songs start with, "I woke up this morning..."

I think the old blues singers would have sung, "I woke up this mornin'"

Okay, okay, what's happening around the blogs?

Peter wrote something about Popeye the sailor man.

It was about an eating place in Lower Hutt with bad grammar in its name. This post was written last Wednesday. Peter is busy trying to back a trailer at the tip. Too busy to update his blog.

Robert has done a few posts. His latest is about driving forklifts. Oh yes, and he also offers support for President Trump. 

"President Donald Trump wrote that the United States “will not fund, sponsor, promote, assist, or support the so-called ‘transition’ of a child from one sex to another, and it will rigorously enforce all laws that prohibit or limit these destructive and life-altering procedures.""

Not a big surprise that Robert would supports this, considering that he is a Catholic. 

I've actually had a (very) little bit (through teaching mainly) to do with teenagers who are certainly not happy with their sex. It's like when you deal with gay kids. They're pretty adamant about what they are. Hey, but, as in most things, old men know what is best for them. 

Just in case you're slow witted, that last sentence was written with sarcasm.

There must be studies done by professional people (people who have really studied the subject) into trans youngsters. I bet that Trump hasn't. I bet that most of those silly bishops and priests haven't too. I doubt if Robert has.**

I have a nephew who has transitioned from a girl to a boy. Recently we made a long car journey together and we chatted all the way. I found him to be intelligent, thoughtful towards others and, most of all, very happy. He certainly seems like a nicer person to be around than that president Robert quoted.

* * *

Okay, you know what time it is now. Yes, practice time. I'm going to a 100th birthday tomorrow (an old musician friend -  from 3G days, according to Peter) and there is evidently going to be a jam. I'll take my violin and my little battery amp. That makes me as loud as any trumpet player.

Well, that's it for today. We're staying in Raumati on Saturday night, so my blog writing might be a little slower, but not as slow as TC's.

Ciao tutti.

* Probably because Peter hasn't turned up to tell his jokes yet.

** Robert will more likely now bring up things on Google to prove me wrong.

Understanding the Holy Trinity.

 Okay, I was informed recently that, if you're baptized a Catholic, you can never cancel that baptism and, if you don't play the game, you're a heretic. I admit that I'm getting pretty old and I'm not going to live forever so I thought that maybe I should try to make it into Heaven. Heaven's a big place and I can probably avoid Mr. Linford and Brother Benedict (if he's there). However, I do have a few questions that I need to get cleared up. I've heard of people, within the church, called Catholic Apologists. From what I've heard of them, they don't seem to spend much time apologizing but, rather, talking fast and using big words. Then I heard of another group called Catholic Guessers and I was lucky enough to get in touch with one of them named Tent Horn.

Tent kindly agreed to come onto Richard's Bass Bag* and, I suppose, guess.

Richard (of RBB): Thanks for coming in for a chat Mr. Horn.

Tent Horn: Hi Richard of Richard's Bass Bag, please call me Tent.

Richard (of RBB): And please call me Richard. I'm not getting any younger, I've had a few little health niggles lately. Burning forever after death, if Catholics are correct, doesn't seem like a lot of laughs. I thought that it might be wise, sort of like an insurance policy, to look into getting into Heaven. It seems that, to achieve this goal, I have to stop, or avoid, being a heretic. I was told that I'm stuck with a status that was imposed upon me when I was newly born. I was baptized a Catholic. There's evidently no way out of that. So, my only hope is to come to terms with Catholic teaching and return to the faith. Here's a question, do other religions make it into Heaven?

Tent Horn: Mmmm, good question. A lot of religions think they're going to finish up in Heaven. Some men even believe that they'll be presented with 72 celestial virgins for blowing themselves up. That sounds like a very good deal! Presbyterians think they're going there too, and Baptists. I don't think so because Catholicism is the only true religion.

Richard (of RBB): Okay, and I assume that Taliban men won't have a shit show! Let's get down to business. I just have one question for today. Catholics call their god the one true god, but there are three entities packed into that one god. A father, a son and one guy or girl called the Holy Ghost. I think that last one's name got changed to Holy Spirit - maybe someone translated it wrongly?

In pictures one of them looks like a bird. When I was young, and in Catholic schools, they often told us that mere mortals don't have the intelligence to really understand this. Can you explain this 'three people in one god' thing?

Tent Horn: Okay, let me think for a second or two. [about a minute passes] Okay, have you ever been out driving, only to find a big black ute following you really closely?

Richard (of RBB): Yes.

Tent Horn: Well, that big black ute is much more powerful than your little car. There is no way you can outrun it. Absolutely no way. It either passes you or it stays up your bum. That big black ute is like God. Who is driving it? God the Father. Who else would be in charge? Who is sitting in the front passenger seat? God the Son. The Holy Spirit would be fluttering around near the back seat. That big black ute is the shell that holds the trinity together. Do you understand?

Richard (of RBB): Yes. That actually makes sense - god is like a big black ute. Thanks Tent. You obviously know your business, and you don't try to confuse with big words. Just a thought, why are so many clergy paedophiles?

Tent Horn: Well, I guess that they've got to be somewhere. At least we don't have to put up with woman priests. Some of them think they're in charge. Think about it, Jesus didn't have any female apostles.

Richard (of RBB): Maybe Jesus was gay? If you think about men who are in charge around the world at the moment, think North Korea, Russia, America, would women really do a worse job? 

Tent Horn: Well, Trump is making America great again. It's the way that God wants it. I don't see Him objecting. Remember that He made Adam first, and please don't go on about the belly buttons. Hey, it was Eve who led Adam astray. Would you really want to see a woman driving the big black ute?

Richard (of RBB): Thanks Tent. We'll wrap it up there for today. Is it really that hot in Hell?

* the original bass bagging site

Diabolus musica - The devil in music.

 Diabolus musica is also known as a tritone, an augmented 4th, or a flattened 5th.

Let's look at this interval happening between the notes E and Bb (A# is another name for the Bb note).

I've also named the notes C & G.

In the really old days this interval was called the devil in music because people didn't like the sound of it. It happens over three tones, which people called 'the holy trinity'. Looks like the devil had the holy trinity covered!

This interval became the best friend of Jazz and Blues musicians. In Jazz it's also called the #11 when it is placed above a chord. Personally, I find it to be the most exciting sound in Jazz.

In the above keyboard picture I outlined the notes for the chord C7 - C  E  G  Bb. Most Jazz musicians would probably agree that the E and Bb are the most colourful notes in this chord. When you're improvising over C7 it sounds really nice if you play these two notes. 

On the violin I often use these two notes as a double stopped (played on two strings) chord (C7 in this case).

It gives a great sound, AND sounds like the chord. The interesting thing is that there is a tritone between each note, so it doesn't matter which way around you place the notes.

E  * | *  * | *  Bb

Bb * | *  * | *  E

*  * represents two semitones = a tone (so does Bb  * or *  E)

I hope you found that interesting.

Have fun but don't use just root notes in your solo.

Okay, moving right along.

 Today we're going to 'give the floor' to a blogger who has been in our blogging circle since around 2009.

Please give a warm welcome to The The The Guy!

"The The thank you and The The thank you to The The Richard's Bass Bag* for The The giving me this The The opportunity. Don't The The forget that The The it's because of The The 'The Bag' The The that I The The took up the The The double bass The The The The quite a few The The years ago. 

I The The read briefly The The this morning The The that The The Rob, as The The he's The The called now, The The is pleased The The The The that the The The American President has come The The out The The against The The transgender people The The The The The The. I guess The The that it The The won't be The The long before he The The comes out The The against people The The like me - The The with speech The The impediments and The The other things The The The The.

I'll keep The The this The The short because The The I do realise The The that The The it can be a The The bit of The The a chore The The to read what The The The The I have The The written.

Thanks The The for The The your tolerence The The. See The The you soon The The on the The The blogs."

Thanks for your thoughts, The The The Guy. We're also very lucky to have the son of God here today.

Please give a big welcome to Angry Jesus!

"Yeah, hi. I'll get straight to the point. If you don't repent, you're going to Hell for eternity. It's that simple. Hey, I'm not your friend, I'm the bloody Son of God - with a capital S. Remember that, with a little help from The Holy Ghost, Me and Dad are running things, and you know that Dad is not adverse to wiping out massive amounts of people. Read your bloody bible!

I find reading The The The Guy annoying. All the 'Thes' should be edited out before his thoughts are published. I know that some bloggers like Rob and The Curmudgeon aren't big on editing or proofreading, but I expected more from Richard's Bass Bag.**

Mr. Trump wouldn't put up with all that stuttering, that's for damn sure! Dad said that he's reserved him a prime spot in Heaven, when the time comes. We do have people in Heaven who need a bit of straightening out too. St. Peter would be one of them.

"By the way, he's no relation
to that blogger with the same name."

He sits near the damn entrance to Heaven and thinks he's in charge of everything. Me and Dad call him Pete, just to piss him off. Pius twat!

Well, I'm off now. It's coffee time. It's more peaceful up here while everyone is at Mass.

See you later.

Oh, and have fun but, if you sin, you'll burn."

That's it for today. Gosh, we are getting quite a wide range of opinions.

Ciao tutti.

* the original the the bass bagging site the the

**the original bass bagging site

It seems that things are 'back to normal' around the blogs.

 But, there again, what is normal?

I won't give a breakdown here. Just use our LINKS service to have a look. You'll notice that a few links (like The Blue Guy) are gone. 

However, to help some of our quieter links 'resurface' we're going to feature them on Richard's Bass Bag.* To get things going, today we'd like to feature that ever popular Aucklander Phillip Edward Nis and that connoisseur of the arts Akish the Philistine.

Let's kick off with Phillip.

"Hi all and a big welcome from Auckland. It's good to see that things are settling down a bit around the blogs. I know that I've been a bit quiet, blogging wise, lately but I can assure you that you'll be hearing more from me in future. I can almost see those smiles on all your faces! Yes, I can! I have been looking around the blogs but I've also been busy giving lectures on such topics as Good Taste, How To Make Your Name Stand Out In A Crowd, Hi, I'm Phillip Edward and Let's Take A Cruise To Pen Island. 

These lectures have been very popular in the big city, and I have also done some further north. I must admit that Whangarei was a bit of a flop but, hey, that's Whangarei. They set me up in a tennis club and I was asked to talk about Good Taste. I think a lot of punters were disappointed because they thought it was going to be about different things you could have for breakfast. I did point a lot of them towards The Curmudgeon's blog, but they didn't seem keen. One punter even called out, "Send him back to Wellington!" I guess you can't please everybody.

I'll sign off there for today, but you definitely will be hearing more from me!

Have fun and don't hold back for silly religious reasons."

Now let's hear from Akish.

"Yeah, hi. The last post I wrote was last year. I called it 'Church art makes me fart'. You can reread it by using the LINKS service on this blog.

Today I'd like to talk about abstract art.

Actually, for abstract art, this one isn't too bad. Some abstract paintings are real shit - like sending a cellist in to do the job of a double bassist. Christ! The first thing an abstract artist needs to do is forget how to paint or draw. Then he can just throw paint at the canvas.

One good thing about churches is that they don't usually have abstract art. Imagine if the abstract example above was labelled, "Mary ascends into Heaven." Is that Mary standing on the right hand side of a glass door? Hardly ascending. Maybe it's a lift?

Okay, that's it from me for today. Keep an eye on my blog if you want to hear the real facts about the arts.

Have fun but stay away from abstract art galleries." 

Well, that opened your eyes to the exciting bloggers that we will be presenting here for your reading pleasure!

Ciao tutti.

* the original bass bagging site

Update time.

 Yes, the Prodigal Son has returned, and we've (kindly) put him back on our LINKS list. 

The Curmudgeon (not his real name) is still there as well.

Now I'll write some bullshit.

Rob, we're soooo happy to have you back! We, at RBB, love you!

Peter, what would life on the blogs be like without you? Oh, yes, and we love you too!*

Don't get too excited about the 'love you' bits. It's just for marketing - just like it is in the Catholic Church.

* It'd be a mystery what you have for breakfast, and we wouldn't have a clue about your knowledge of Mrs. Palmer.

I'm feeling careless this morning.

This morning I woke to find that Robert has been sniveling around TC's blog and it appears that he has set up a blog again. Doesn't look like his move to Facebook was a resounding success. 

From Robert's 'new' blog.
It is good to see him supporting
the LGBTQ community.

I also saw that Peter was reading me the riot act.

If you read Peter's (aka The Curmudgeon) comment, you will see that
he didn't proofread. You can also see, in my reply, that I offered both
Peter and Mr. Wilde the chance for sex and travel.

From memory, my blog kicked off in 2007 (though I could be wrong) and I don't remember pleading with either boy old man to join me. When Robert decided to delete all his comments on my blog, and his blog, to see if his thoughts could be popular on Facebook, there was no mention of, "Oh, but I love you, Richard." He simply fucked off. There were no goodbyes. Now it looks like he's playing the part of the Prodigal Son.

Now Peter is feeling superior. He who posts about what he had for breakfast and his blue glove. Exciting stuff! AND he doesn't waste his valuable time proofreading! 

Peter added another comment after my reply.

Well,

with friends like these, who needs enemies?

I'm glad I'm feeling careless this morning.

Blue stockings - no metronome mark here!

 TC's latest post is a solitary picture.

He seems to have a thing about blue stockings. Is this what happens if you spend too much time with a tradie?

"Hey Peter, what's your
favourite coloured stockings?
Show me."

I guess that this is the sort of thing that tradies talk about on the job and what they think about while they're waiting for the apprentice to get the wood. It may have been inspired when Peter turned up to work wearing one glove.

The boys probably soon shared a Mrs. Palmer joke or two. It would have grown from there. Ah, boys, when they are on their own and in boys' territory! I guess that Peter had to preserve his boys' dignity and just couldn't let the joke die. Ron the handyman would have felt at home. Male bonding at work.

Crotchet equals approximately two hundred and eighty-five.

Wednesday. Named after Wed Nes who was a very important person in his time. Mr. Nes actually invented weddings which we take for granted these days. The word 'granted' is actually taken from the name Grant Ted (one 't' was dropped). Mr. Ted was a sort of go to guy who had a knack of fixing things. When things were not working properly, it was common to hear, "Take it in for Grant Ted to have a look at." Some people thought that Mr. Ted's amazing skills were often taken for granted. Hence the word.

An artist's impression
of what Grant Ted
probably looked like.

Okay, let's have a listen to Oscar Peterson and the two bassists, Ray Brown and Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen. HERE.

Hey, it's well worth a listen!

Sorry but I can't nail their exact speed this morning. Listen to Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen's bass solo - the second solo, Ray goes first. Listen to those quavers! Wow! Now that's too fast for me. NHOP, as they call him, has always been my hero. In my humble opinion, he's the best!

Ciao tutti.

Crotchet equals one hundred and twenty.

 I like crotchet = 120 because it is a great tempo for medium swing tunes.

You'll notice that I deleted my last post. I got up in the middle of the night to do that. I just thought that I was getting a little negative. I was tempted to call this post...

Make Blogging Great Again - MBGA

but that sounded too much like saluting Donald who is back in power this morning.

For some reason our bathroom tap
always reminds me of Donald.

There are only two of us left in our little blogging community now. The Catholic presence, along with church shops, rosary beads and sucking up to the Virgin Mary, has gone.

At least we can still talk about downsizing and metronomes.

Downsizing:

This happens when you acquire too many things. You may have some sort of attachment to all of these things, but they are tying you down. How are they doing that? I guess it's like having a very big family who are all relying on you. It could also be like being attached to an organised religion - in some religions you have to wear a silly hat, wherever you go. In others you're expected to be at Mass every Sunday AND you get landed with Original Sin - all because of bloody Eve! I mean, I could understand if it was a bottle of Cleanskin chardonnay that tempted her, but an apple?

Downsizing happens when you finally remove things that you don't really need. Sort of like walking away from a blogging community because you no longer want to communicate with the other bloggers. Maybe they are atheists, or maybe one of them has been in 3P.

Metronomes:

Apart from playing long notes for tone and checking your intonation, practising with a metronome is one of the most important things that a musician can do. Never underestimate it! For my jazz playing I like to practise at crotchet = 120, especially when practising swing tunes. Then I like to move the metronome up to crotchet = 240. Let's imagine that we're practising walking likes on a double bass. At solo time you may want to use quavers (eighth notes). I have found that crotchet = 240 is a good speed to get these two things under control. Then, when you feel ready, you can slowly increase the speed. The quavers that worked at crotchet = 240 should move up to faster speeds pretty easily. It's all about getting those fingers comfortable.

* * *

I know, I know, you want a few pictures. 

Here we go...

3P

belly buttons

ex-blogger

crotchet = 240

a pillar of the church

3G, the guys who didn't make
it into 3P

Father Orange

Ciao tutti.

Crotchet equals four.

 Okay, I've told you that my metronome only goes down to crotchet = 10,

but the metronome in your head can go as slow as you want it to.

How to use the metronome in your head:

You must get used to counting seconds in time. If this is giving you trouble, just set your metronome to crotchet = 60 and get used to counting seconds (Peter, there are 60 seconds in a minute - I'm not sure if they would have covered that in 3P). To count crotchet = 4 you simply count like this. Click 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  Click 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  Click 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15 Click 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15. You'll notice that the time gap between clicks is quite big.  

Now, at this point, you have to have faith in time. If you concentrate really hard, you can bring everything around you down to crotchet = 4. Yes, birds will fly slower, blowflies will appear quieter because they are not going so fast, those racy utes that are always driving up your bum will be going much, much slower than 50kph - it'll feel like all those powerful oversized vehicles have been replaced by Noddy cars.

This guy works on a building
site and WAS always in a hurry.

I think I'm going to have to give you all time to digest that, so I'll change the subject.

It's Wellington Anniversary Day today and it is a holiday (No holiday in Whangarei) except that I'm on holiday anyway. I don't go back to work until early February. Actually, it's a holiday for Peter too because he doesn't have a job besides downsizing and making a bit of a nuisance of himself at the tip. I don't know about Robert because I've been shut out of his blog site. Maybe they have different rules in Moera?

Wellington Anniversary Day is not a holiday from violin and double bass practice. Actually, I really need to do some good double bass practice today. When I practised yesterday, my left arm felt sore from cleaning the house. I was practising Swing In, Swing Out, as I told you I would, but I just couldn't get comfortable with it. I love that word 'comfortable'. I always think, "Come for table." Hey, stay on topic, Richard (of RBB)!

"Are you comfortable?"
"No, I've come for (the) table."

Well, that's probably a good joke to leave you with. Peter can practise it up and use it when he visits Wainuiomata.

Ciao tutti.

 

 

Crotchet equals one hundred and forty.

That's the speed for a bass tune of mine called 'Swing In, Swing Out'.

It's Sunday. Actually, that's an unusual name for a day of the week. Perhaps it should be called Churchshopday.

Well, it is the day that church shops are open all over the country. It would be different in India because they have a different god who might not like church shops. Quite a few other countries do as well. There are quite a few gods out there. I wonder if they're all related?

I have the intention of doing more double bass practice today because I have the intention of working up seven of my Double Bass Melodies. I have a gig coming up at a library (or two) in May and thought that it would be good to get a few of my bass melodies played - I have a book with about 17 of these tunes in it.

Robert Testore told me recently that the double bass is not really a melody instrument. Jeeze (you can read 'Sheesh!' there if you like, Peter), I hope he's not right. The gig could be a disaster!

"Damn! I can't get this melody
to work! It sounds just like a
bassline!"

Obviously, I'll do some violin practice too. I'm playing at a jazz jam in a couple of weeks. It's at Raumati and is for the 100th. birthday of an old jazz playing friend. As I told you before, I'm also working up some bluegrass pieces that I hope to play at the Bluegrass Society sometime early this year. They are pieces for solo violin. I have three but will only need two - Blue Moon of Kentucky and the Orange Blossom Special. It's always good to have an extra piece that is ready to go. When you play pieces like this solo, you need to really fill them out. That means lots of double stops (two notes played at once, Peter). That is why I've done a lot of work on playing two chord notes at once. I can play different inversions all over the violin.

Harmonies and scale choices are much simpler in Bluegrass than they are in Jazz. Bluegrass players generally seem to go for the major pentatonic scale, so, if you play this scale, you sound more like a Bluegrass player. I've got to be careful not to drop in any jazz licks. Peter will be enjoying this.

There will probably be ideas in this post that Peter can use to get a post together for himself. His last post was virtually a repetition of my last post, with something about my Wellington tours. Ah well, it keeps the old guy busy.

Ciao tutti.

Crotchet equals ninety.

 Today the plan is to continue washing down the house.

I knew the readers would
like a picture. It helps some
of them to work out the 
English grammar.

I use Peter's mixture of warm water, dishwashing liquid and vinegar.

I'll also do a little bit of double bass practice.

The thirds and sixths practice went very well on the violin yesterday. The plan for my Bluegrass performance is all set up. Now it just needs practice. I've also been asked to play at a library in May. I'll play with Daryl. My bass player is going to be out of action because his second child will just have arrived around then.

I'll turn up to crotchet equals a hundred for the house cleaning. I think that'll be fast enough. I'll listen to the metronome and keep a steady tempo. 

Metronome tempos can be catchy. I hope that my elderly neighbour doesn't start doing everything at crotchet = 100 while I'm working but it often happens with a strong metronome beat. This was going to be explained in my story (Crotchet equals ten) before a reader took over the story. It's sort of like when you're driving in a 50kph zone and some idiot behind you in a big ute thing is right up your bum. 

For some reason they're generally black.
Maybe it's an attempt to make them look
more scary? Darth Vader would drive a
black ute, after all.

You have two choices, either go faster to make them happy, or set your car metronome to kph = 50.

They're probably feeling held up and pissed off but look at the sign! That's the law.

Normally they succumb and back off a bit. For some reason they don't do the same on 100kph roads. I think this is because they think that the 100kph sign means that you must do 100kph or faster.

To keep yourself calm, and your metronome locked in, it is a good idea to remember that wise old Italian phrase, "La mamma degli imbecilli è sempre incinta."

The mother of imbeciles is always pregnant.

 I don't understand the need to drive fast. Is it showing off how good your car is? Is it a cool thing to do? Is it just that you are so busy and need to get there in a hurry? Are you the CEO of some big company? 

How many CEOs of big companies would live in Wainuiomata? To get out of our suburb (which is famous for its very good jokes) you have to drive over a big hill that has an 80kph speed limit. I like to travel over it at 60kph because there are many accidents on this hill. Huge amounts of cars go shooting past me as I ascend the hill. They're all following the car in front of them very closely and more than likely going faster than 80kph. For a start, it is obvious that they don't know about physics and that is why we get so many nose to tail crashes on the road. 

At the bottom of the hill, on the Lower Hutt side, there are traffic lights. It always amuses me to see cars that have bolted past parked up just a few cars ahead and waiting for the lights to turn green. What did they achieve?

Oops, sorry. Some of you will be getting desperate for a picture or two.

Hey, and don't forget that you can now get a metronome on your phone for free!

Ciao tutti.