Richard's Bass Bag* comes to the blogging community rescue with a new post.

 Okay, I'm back to lift the standards around here. Things have been a bit busy here over the last week but yesterday we decided to get Shelley a new car.

It's a 2006 1500cc Toyota Vitz and it seems to run really well. This is the most modern car we've had in our family fleet. At the moment it's also the tidiest. Not that there's anything wrong with the Batmobile.

Call The Curmudgeon a handyman,
if you must, but I painted the roof
of this car myself. It's almost as fancy
as a Tesla!

The good thing about the Batmobile (it's a very long car) is that all those fancy jeep/ute things that often come crowding up behind you in a demonstration of power, or something, never seem to want to get too close to the Batmobile. I guess they see that the old car has been in a few scrapes in its time.

* * *

 I've noticed that lately there is a custom of old dead people making quotes on Robert's blog, so I thought that we might have a few quotes, by living people, here on Richard's Bass Bag* this morning.

Let's start with one of your favourites.

"People like to buy frozen peas and they see all the peas in the plastic bag only as a collective. What though do they give to an individual pea?" Andrew Joker.

Let's move right along.

"First of all, let me apologize for all the evil things brought upon people by the Roman Catholic Church. The religious like to talk about a soul. Isn't that a type of fish? Or is that spelt differently?" Catholic Apologist Evil Doctor Richard.

* * *

Okay, I expect that's enough excitement for you for one day. Feel free to leave a comment but no one written in Google Translate please. Oh, and The Curmudgeon, a happy comment or two would be nice please.

Ciao tutti.

* the original bass bagging site

I'd like to show you a picture of a dog.

 

This is Bowser.

Bowser was named in the tradition of most dogs in English speaking countries. His name begins with a capital letter - no one thinks of him as 'bowser'. A bowser is traditionally a petrol pump in a service station but, these days, there are comic characters who share this name, but with a capital letter. 

Dogs are often named by their colour - Cocoa or Inky. A black dog with a white spot is often named Spot. Always with a capital letter. 

Okay, that's enough about dog names.

I played a bit of golf today. I got a set of old clubs together and headed to Berhampore. My first job was to find some gold balls as I forgot to bring some.

As I climbed down to the stream where people tend to lose golf balls, I thought about how I would never turn up at a double bass or violin gig without rosin. Then I remembered that golf is Peter's thing and I haven't 'played' the game since the 1970s. I'd just let my mind wander.

It's funny how your mind wanders when you are tired, and I am tired tonight - it has been a very funny day but I won't tell you about it right now. Instead I'll end with a couple of quotes.

"In a day there is really only one day but it is sort of divided into segments. It starts dark and it ends dark. This is really just to do with the movement of our planet, so please don't read anything deep into it." Bert Gettothepoint.

"Bananas are yellow, oranges are orange but grapes are not grape." Ben Notsosmart.

Ciao tutti.

Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this post.

And the plumber never came.

 

The above image represents a sight that I might have seen if our plumber had ever showed up. Twice he sent an email giving a time when he would show up to assess the job. Twice he never showed up. I mean, all he had to say was, "Sorry, I'm too busy." Then I would have moved on to find another solution. What was the point in him making an appointment? Testa di cazzo.

I've done a lot of instrument practice so far this year. I don't expect anyone to be impressed and, quite frankly, I don't give a shit.

There's a bit happening here right now so I'd better go.

Ciao tutti.

Mine's twelve inches long but I don't use it as a rule.

We've just returned from a wedding near Napier. As we all know, there was a bit of a storm and Wellington bore a bit of the brunt.

Shelley just informed me that there had been 7 inches of rain in the capital. I replied with the title to this post. I don't think she really got it. Thanks to Ray Nuns anyway.*

We decided, rather than trying to drive home, to spend an extra night in Napier. First we visited the Church Road Winery and spent $100 on wine. 

Later that evening, during wine drinking, I did my guitar practice.

We're home now and I'm checking on the blogs. Okay, there is a bit of tidying up to do, but no need to worry because I'm back. The standard of blogging is about to lift again.

Ciao tutti.

* Ray was a wise cracking old guy who worked at Murray Roberts (a wholesale bottle store that I worked at in the 1970s, as did Peter and Robert). 

Okay, tomorrow I'm off to the wedding of the daughter of a couple of very old friends.

 

It's happening near Napier, so I'll be away for five days - I'm taking my guitar so that I can keep my practice up.

I was giving some friends at school a lesson yesterday. One guy asked me what sort of pick he should use for fast lines. I said, "A hard pick." I then picked up a softer pick that was on a table nearby to illustrate the difference. To my astonishment, I could play faster with the slightly softer pick. I tried an electric guitar with softer strings and that made me go even faster! 

I WAS WRONG!

Like a scientist, I happily admitted my mistake and was happy to have learnt something.

Later that afternoon I replaced the strings on my guitar with lighter strings and bought some .88mm picks. I'm sounding better tonight! And faster!

Oh, sorry. I forgot to say that the guy in the picture above is actually my son George with his new wife Mrs. Laura Prowse.

I think they are both beautiful, but I know I am hugely biased. Hey, but I don't care.

It's very special to have these two wonderful people in our family.

Ciao tutti.

Time for a laugh.

 I spent a day at Nuova Lazio High School today so I thought it might be time for a laugh.

This first picture was taken at the road block around Parliament today. This guy is a good advertisement for the sort of people who support the anti-vaccination movement. I hope they do better research for their conspiracy theories.

Here's a little view into how children may interpret the experience of going to mass.

Finally, here's a little Jesus joke.

I hope that cheered up your first day back at work.

Ciao tutti.

Road Patrol at the Church Shop.

 Sunday.

Peter had proven himself at Whangarei Heads Primary as a top notch Crossing Supervisor. So much so that he'd been given command of the crossing outside the local church shop for one Sunday every month.

Peter had found that wearing his bicycle helmet seemed to give him more presence and made him look a bit like the traffic cops he remembered from his time at school. He'd used his voice to good effect when confronting stupid parents outside the primary school.

"Hey you, you cross at the crossing! This is a child safety zone." he'd yell to silly parents who were trying to skip across the road at any old place. He'd trained the children who were taking their turn to hold the stop signs to address him as 'Supe'. There was no question that Supe ran a tight ship. Even most of the parents were now addressing him by this name. News of change travels fast up by The Heads. Soon Supe was checking vaccination passes before he would let parents cross.

He suspected that his Sunday gig might be quieter. Then he saw his team. Some of the same school kids. "We're the Catholic ones." one little girl explained. "Okay, let's get the equipment out. Take my key and remember we need two of everything because there are two sides to the road." Supe ordered. They were all set up before the congregation for 9am mass started to arrive. Cars were parking all over the place and people looked like they would just go for the direct route - out of the car and across to the side the church and its shop were on. Supe was walking up and down the road pointing to the crossing. Some people were responding, probably because of the helmet, but some were just crossing where they were. Then a herd of cyclists arrived. They were riding on the wrong side of the road.

"Arrogant bastards!" Supe thought and he remembered that he had brought his multi-purpose golf club. He took it from a single club bag he was wearing over his right shoulder.  He ran into the middle of the road swinging it around. The cyclists, as one would expect, were indignant and the leading riders started shouting threats. The two children holding stop signs both turned to face the cyclists and held up their signs so that the other direction of the road was ignored. "We've got this Supe." said a little fat boy. The cyclists came to a halt but they were not pleased. "You're infringing on our right to use this road and to ride on the right hand side." one shouted grimly. The people from the cars had stopped crossing the road where they wanted. They thought better of crossing a golf club armed man wearing a helmet.

Supe wasn't phased by the cyclists and replied, "You come into my jurisdiction, you follow my rules. Now get off your bikes and walk them on the left hand side. Over there. Keep as far to the left as you can, I don't want to have to whack any tyres, they might puncture." There was authority in his voice and he had a multi-purpose club so the cyclists cowered and moved to the left hand side. A plastic drink bottle slipped out of a pocket on one cyclist's bum and bounced onto the road. "Leave it!" ordered Supe. "You can pick up another for a fair price at the church shop but right now the priest is ready to start mass so move along."

Experience outside the primary school had quickly taught Supe a lot - he was a hard man but he was fair. The multi-purpose golf club had paid off in a way that he had never considered when he bought it. The locals quickly came to appreciate that a multi-purpose golf club was weighted in such a way as to make it a very effective weapon. Supe had found his calling and was already tidying up a few roads near the Whangarei Heads. He made sure that multi-purpose golf club was hanging over that right shoulder whenever he was on duty and often thought to himself, "Expect the best but plan for the worst."

Was St. Francis a sissy?

 

Okay, we know he had a really silly haircut but was he 'the a sissy from Assisi'?

Here's what we know:

• He couldn't get a girlfriend.
• He seems to have gotten on well with animals.
• Whoever cut his hair should have been fired.
• He may have had a tail because the word 'monk' is probably derived from 'monkey'. Though in Italian, and San Francesco was from Assisi, the word for monk is 'monaco' and the word for monkey is 'scimmia' so maybe there's not a connection there.

Okay, I'll leave it there and move on.

I've been back practising guitar for a while now. It's actually a fun instrument to practise. It occurred to me yesterday that I should start building up a bit of a solo repertoire so I chose 7 tunes. 

1. The Girl from Ipanema. I chose this because it was a song that I learnt on the guitar when I was fourteen. At the time I thought it was a cool song and it is. It just didn't register as cool with the folkies I spent a bit of time with in 1967. It actually has a very clever chord progression and the melody chooses some interesting notes too.
2. Stella by Starlight. I love the chord changes in this tune and always find them a challenge. They're really nice chords to solo over.
3. Old Guys. This is a 'rhythm changes' tune that I wrote many years ago. Rhythm changes are the chords that were originally used in the song I Got Rhythm and there are many jazz tunes that use these chords. Rhythm changes are a bit of a test for me to play over on guitar so that's why it made the list.
4. Sweet Georgia Brown. This is another bit of a test for my guitar playing.  I've spent quite a bit of time working on the head (tune). This tune has fun chords to play over.
5. Nefanie. This is a ballad I wrote for my daughter when she was a teenager. I was practising it on my bass early  one morning, many years ago. She came into the room and I said, "I wrote this tune for you." She replied (she had just woken up), "One of these mornings, if you don't shut up, someone is going to break that bass."
6. Autumn Leaves. Truth be known, I've probably played this tune too much but I love it.
7. The Accordion Lady. This is another tune I wrote many years ago and I don't think I've ever played it in public. It was written about an old lady who used to busk on an accordion in Tauranga. She played away and no one seemed to be listening. This sort of rang a bell with me.

Well, I don't want this post to sound like Pete's Garden Series so I'd better take a break there.

Yawn.

Ciao tutti.

Saint Francis of a sissy.

 When I was a little guy, in my first few years of school, the nuns told us about Saint Francis of a sissy. This was the first instance in my life of a badly pronounced language. At my school there were two nuns, an Irish nun (Sister Mary) and an Australian nun (Sister Emilion).

Poor St. Francis lost his
hair at an early age.

Sister Emilion was quite nice and Sister Mary could be a nasty piece of work. Both of these women could not pronounce Italian so they put silly ideas in the heads of their young students. Assisi is a place in Italia.

Assisi

The 'A' is pronounced with more of an 'are' sound and the 'i's are pronounced as in 'kiwi'. 'A sissy' is not the correct pronunciation. It makes me wonder how many other things these nuns got wrong. Don't forget that they were in the position mold young minds. 

St. Francis's weird haircut made it almost impossible for him to get a girlfriend so he got chummy with animals. Sister Mary told us that, if my memory is correct.

* * *

I've been enjoying The Curmudgeon's sinking boat series. It's wet in Nuova Lazio today. Yesterday I watched five episodes of the new REACHER series. I might need to watch Episode 5 again as I was getting a bit tired. The show is very good and is based on Lee Child's first Jack Reacher book.

* * *

As Robert correctly pointed out, there were intonation problems with my teapot playing in my last post. Sorry.

This was because I did that 'take' with no warm up or rehearsal. I hadn't touched a teapot or a trumpet mouthpiece for a very long time and a teapot is quite a slippery thing to pitch on. Well, at least my playing got a critical comment from him, instead of that non-committal stuff like, "I read this post."

* * *

By the way, St. Francis's real name was San Francesco. There's actually a restaurant named after him, near a church that also bears his name. I wonder if there is a barbershop named after him?

"Frank's Fine Cuts.
Don't be a martyr,
get the latest look!
We promise you a cool head."

Ciao tutti.

Happy Birthday Dave.

 My old jazz mate is 85 today. Dave Proud has many musical talents and is a fine trumpet and trombone player (among other brass instruments). He also came up with the 'never bettered' saying about a band he was in, "We're not as bad as we sound."

Dave had a little trick he used to do of playing a teapot. This little video clip is dedicated to Dave.

Happy birthday David Proud. 

giovedì

Wind and a bit of rain in Nuova Lazio.

Mio figlio e la sua moglie have returned from the South Island a day or two early to avoid the stormy conditions. It's good to know that they are safely home.

The man who was going to give me a quote for replacing our spouting hasn't got back twice. Okay, I know he is probably busy but all he has to say is, "Sorry but I can't get to that job for at least nine months." It's when you are left in the air that a lack of communication can be frustrating. Maybe tradespeople should take a course in social skills as part of their training. I mean, he did say he was coming around about three weeks ago.

I plan to dive into some serious double bass practice this morning. 

Actually, people often don't get back to me about music things either. I offered to help a couple of folkies with their jazz playing (non-existant at the moment) back in November. I even wrote them a little course. I was going to help them to play some gypsy jazz.

One is a violinist and one plays guitar. To get ready for the guitar part, I did about 30 plus hours of guitar practice (yes, I count my practice hours) because it's not really one of my main two instruments, although I have played it for years. Many years ago I even played in the show Les Miserables - this show has a really full on guitar part. The end result, for me, has been that my guitar playing has improved quite a lot - I even did a gig in January. 

Maybe they found the mountain too high, but I could have helped them.

Anyway, the end result is that I've really enjoyed working on my guitar playing with the down side being that my double bass and violin have had less attention. Hence the need for a good morning of double bass playing.

Better go.

Ciao tutti.

What does god look like?

 Robert posted this photo on his blog this morning.

Why does god look like a whale?

Funnily enough, I took a picture of the sky, last night before the sun went down, and god looked like he was skiing.

Look closely. The skis are blue against the white snow.

If you look really closely, to the left a bit on the hill line, you can see the head of a kiwi watching god ski. Is god trying to tell all kiwi (or kiwis - the people) that the way to god is via skiing? There again, maybe god was just having some recreation and he thought nobody would see.

Robert's photo is a little more scary because, if that's god, he's 'coming out' as a whale. Shouldn't then the slogan be, "Trust the whale."?

Our whale who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy ocean come.

Thy will be done in the sea,

As it is done in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily plankton

et cetera

Awhales.

A Liardet Street boy finally 'comes out'.

 

After a lifetime of trying to hide the reality of his lifestyle, a man who once roughed it up and roamed with a hard bunch of boys known as The Liardet Street Boys has chosen to come out. We sent well respected Catholic apologist Evil Doctor Richard to get this man's story.

Evil Doctor Richard: Firstly, let me apologize for all the evil things the Catholic church has done. I'm here up north with someone who has something to say.

Peter: My name is Peter and I am a cyclist.

I guess it all started when I was a boy living with my family in Liardet Street. Okay, I liked the rough and tumble of being with the other kids in the street, until one day when I saw a bicycle. It all started pretty innocently with learning to balance the bike and just riding around a bit.

Evil Doctor Richard: So when did you notice that it was becoming a big pull in your life?

Peter: A friend and I started riding in tandem. You have to understand that there were quite a few steep roads around the area and in those days not many bikes had fancy gears. My friend started developing an attitude that cars would just have to wait behind us and I liked the idea. A little later I saw photos in an old Playboy of the Tour de France. There were cyclists wearing these magnificent clothes. All sorts of colours and they had a drink bottle attached to their bums. You have to understand that I only read those Playboys for the articles.

Evil Doctor Richard: So back then lycra would have seemed unattainable to a young boy who was still getting the feel of getting in the way on his bike and learning to feel superior to motorists.

Peter: Yes. I must admit that the cycle made you feel pretty special. On the road you resented motorists as lazy, unfit bastards and on the footpath you could sneak up behind pedestrians and scare the shit out of them. I certainly felt at home in this lifestyle.

Evil Doctor Richard: You've kept this lifestyle a secret for most of your life. I'm curious, what made you decide to 'come out'.

Peter: I don't know. Maybe it was the availability of lycra that was impossible to get when I was young. Maybe I just wanted to stop living a lie? It certainly felt right to have a water bottle in a pocket on my bum.

Then I discovered that there was a whole community of people just like me. I wasn't alone anymore. I wasn't a freak. We could ride in packs. We could block up major roads. On footpaths we were like kings. I guess this is the sort of person I was born to be.

Evil Doctor Richard: Thanks for sharing Peter. Can you move your bike out of the way now so I can get my car out. I'm due back in Lower Hutt later today. It's a long drive.

Peter: See, that's a thing that really pisses me off. You tell me that I'm in your way and all you're going to do is sit on your arse for hours. It would take me a few days to get to Lower Hutt but you just want to barge past!

Evil Doctor Richard: Look, I'll move your bike to a park of its own. It doesn't need to be leaning against my car.

Peter: Don't you dare touch my bike, you bastard! I know my rights.

Evil Doctor Richard: Look, I just want to get my car out.

Peter: Yes, it's always about you and your bloody cars!

Evil Doctor Richard: Don't worry. There's a bus leaving soon. I'll get that.

Peter: I don't care what you do. My bike has every right to be right where it is. Shit! I'm supposed to pick up The Old Girl! Where are my car keys?