Sunday Morning at Richard's Bass Bag*.

Richard (of RBB): Good morning, and what a cold one it is! This morning I am very happy to welcome two blogger guests into the studio. To my right we have a man who writes under the name of many different characters but most people, well the two people who read his blog, know him as The Curmudgeon. Please welcome Peter.

[some clapping]

Peter: Sheesh it's cold down here!

Richard (of RBB): Where's Robert?

Peter: He's on his way. He had to clean the Presbyterian church.

[Robert comes in and sits down]

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: Hi, sorry I'm late.

Richard (of RBB): No probs Rob. Good to have you here.

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: I can't stay long. I'm working in the Church Shop. First I'll listen to Jesus talking through that puppet Father Patrick. Hey, can you record the whole melody of that tune you put on your last post?

Peter: Don't forget I'm sitting here too. You'll probably have noticed that I've gone into a lot of detail on my last two posts. I'm really getting into the important issues.

Richard (of RBB): Now all you have to do is to start putting your commas in the right places.

Peter: Sheesh! Pedantic old schoolteacher!

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: So, what is that piece called?

Richard (of RBB): It's called Manha De Carnaval, which is Portuguese for 'Morning of the Carnival'.

Peter: Good use of a comma!

Richard (of RBB): [under his breath] Zeussh!

Peter: Did they use AI to write that song?

Richard (of RBB): Sure. Non ci piove!

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: Latin is like that. The subject comes at the end. I often wonder if English speakers have it wrong.

Richard (of RBB): That's for sure! I mean, that's what it says, but did you see that the last word is about 'rain'?

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: I'm off to mass now.

Peter: Robot what, if your god was, a Robert?

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: Not only did you get your commas in the wrong places, but you also got Robert and Robot around the wrong way.

Peter: Oh, wekk!

Richard (of RBB): Robot doesn't really need a capital when it's not at the start of a sentence. Unless, of course, it's a name or a title.

Peter: Okay, I'm off too. I didn't spend five years in the 'P' classes to listen to this bullshit. Che stronzata!

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker: Of course, in Latin we would say 'quid bullshit'. Bullshit wasn't really used back then.

Peter: Bye. See you on the blogs.

Richard (of RBB): Ciao tutti.

* the original bass bagging site

Non ci piove.

 Sabato.

It has stopped raining and the sun is trying to come out.

I'm going to the Barbie movie today. I think I'll really enjoy it. Non ci piove.

I'll hopefully get some violin practice done this morning. I also have to try and fix a kitchen cupboard hinge.

Non ci piove is an interesting phrase. Type it into Google Translate then type in just the last two words (ci piove) and you'll see what I mean. Aren't languages fun!

Me practising violin. Oops, that last note is a bit out of tune! More practice required.

Over the last two days I've only managed one hour and that was on the double bass. I'll try to make up some time today.

Hey, I can see the sun coming out!

I have Antonio's visit all mapped out and accommodation and traghetto (something else for you to look up) booked. No Robert, I won't be taking him to mass to hear the wonderful sermons of Father Patrick.

Evidently a bit of a wag.

Well, that's about all I have to tell you this morning.

Ciao tutti.

Today is a very cold day, so let's hope that this posts warms everyone up.

 Okay, no doubt that post title will give Peter cause for comment!

"Sorry, I'm too busy scoffing a wafer to think of something witty!"

It's cold and wet in Nuova Lazio. However, the good news is that I won't be working tomorrow.

A day off!

My grandson will be 4 months old on the weekend and my son will be 37 years old.

The two boys seem to get on well together.

I tried this game with George not so long ago, but he's too heavy now.

If you're having trouble remembering the names of my son and his son, just think of this guy.

George Harrison

It's great being a grandad, though I do complain that babies shouldn't be allowed to be so damn cute.

My phone is full of pictures.

Those are dad's feet in the bottom photo.

My older brother tells me that, when the child gets to about 18 months, you only need one joke - often involving the tickling of their tummy while saying something silly. He says that you can use it as many times as you like, and it is always received with generous laughter. 

Ah, if adults could be so easily pleased!

Well, it's time to do some violin practice before I make tea.

Ciao tutti.

34!

 Our last post pulled 34 comments! (at the time of writing)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These are comment numbers that you simply do not see from blogs like The Curmudgeon or 

Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, music snob and sucker. 

That's for damn sure!

For Richard's Bass Bag* it's quite a common occurrence!

THE NUMBERS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES.

Sorry boys but you'll have to try harder.

* the original bass bagging site

This is Peter.

 

No, actually, this is Peter now.

Before a haircut.

This is Father Patrick,

but the grinning priest doesn't really belong in this post.

This is a condom vending machine.

The type that are found in Catholic church shops.

Yes, they do like to sell you stuff in Catholic churches.

This is Peter again.

No, hang on, that's not Peter.

This is Peter.

The day he bit his lip.

Peter is on my back a lot lately for not doing posts with lots of pictures.

Naughty me!

In our blogging community Peter is like God,

God dresses in
mysterious ways.

and Robert is like his king on Earth.

This will probably make
Robert chuckle.

Trainsubstation is when we eat the body and drink the blood of Peter.

If we don't*, we go to Blog Hell!

Yes, that's right, Blog Hell is run by The Wine Guy.

Okay, you might think that this post is a load of shit but, if you don't like it, go read the 'TRANSALPINE TRIP' series over on The Curmudgeon's blog.

Ciao tutti.

* or if we don't post enough or skimp on pictures

Someone has to be last.

 I've been asked to play at a concert. One of the organisers of this concert heard me play at the Tawa Library. I actually know him well, so it's not like I've been discovered.

I only know one name on the list (Pale Lady). This is the band of the person who asked me to play. Notice also that there are three sizes of names. 

Someone would have had to sit down and make a call. "Let's break the performers into three levels. The first three lines will be the important people. Then we could have the next best. I think Nicole Louisa belongs in the third level, maybe in front of Harlee Morgan? Is Holloway Maako one entity or two? I know, we'll spread them over two lines. Anyway, I've heard that they're both very good. Never heard of that last guy. Guess where he's going."

Well, someone has to be last.* 

* and in the smallest type

Tent Horn

 

The Naming.

 Seven men sat around a table.

They were aboard the HMS Discovery. The man with the cane was calling the shots and his decisions were not to be questioned. His name was Admiral Joseph France. Yes, I know, not a good name for an Englishman.

One of his sailors was dressed in white and he was of foreign descent. Admiral France didn't trust Ordinary Seaman Franz Josef because of that. He only trusted true Englishmen. He certainly didn't trust the natives that he found on this new land. He saw it as his job to discover things and then name them. 

His problem now was that young Franz Josef was the first to see the large rolling mass of ice and snow. 

The Admiral remembered Young Nick's Head disapprovingly. Places should be named after important Englishmen - he knew that for a fact, just as he knew that Jesus was originally from Manchester.

Still, he had to make it look good, so he had assembled six of his men. He'd included Ordinary Seaman Josef because he didn't want him starting rumours.

"I suggest that we call this glacier Joseph France." he said with authority.

"The Maori have probably already named it." said the sailor in the straw hat.

The admiral grunted a laugh. "I'm talking about a proper name."

The man who turned up carrying his rifle and wearing a large bayonet suggested, "Shouldn't Franz's name be in there somewhere? How about Franz Joseph? That would include you both."

The admiral sort of liked the fact that it sounded like his name back to front.

* * *

Franz Josef Glacier? Franz Joseph Glacier? France Joseph Glacier?

Your guess is as good as mine.

One thing is for sure...

Sure he's been there, as many of us have, but the glacier was not (re)discovered by this man.

I have NEVER heard it
referred to as
The Curmudgeon Glacier!

Not The Curmudgeon Glacier.

Anyway, Maori called it 'Ka Roimata O Hinehukatere' and they named it first. 

There's a better story behind the Maori name. Look it up.

In real life...

The glacier was evidently renamed after an Austrian emperor who could have been named Franz Joseph and was evidently also known as Francis Joseph.

This is all getting very confusing. I wish we'd stuck with the original Maori name.

Ciao tutti.

Between a pebble and a fairly soft place.

 I'm off to Himatangi this morning which is just as well given the state of this blogging community at present.

It's probably just as well that I won't be able to check the blogs while I'm in Foxton, and probably Palmerston North - two places that I need to go on business; pottery business.

Hang on, I can actually check the blogs from both places!

Anyway, I plan to be home late afternoon.

Hey, just a minute, am I sounding a bit like The Curmudgeon?

A grumpy old guy who is 
presently in Christchurch
but won't be able to read
the blogs when he gets down
to Franz Joseph Glacier.

Oops, sorry about that!

Ciao tutti.

Looks like Peter has buggered off again!

 

He started his last post like this.

Went on about Robert for a while and then ended his post with this.

WHAT?

This is why he doesn't get many comments.

"I'm off to Christchurch this morning which is just as well given the state of this blogging community at present."

THE STATE OF THIS BLOGGING COMMUNITY AT PRESENT?

So, let me get this right, two readers will be affected.

This is what 'two readers' looks like.

1+1. Not to be confused with bigger numbers.

An example of some bigger numbers:

150

2,000,000

79

3

11

4

So, how does having 2 regular readers (and maybe someone we don't know about in Afghanistan) make one a blog authority?

ANSWER: IT DOESN'T!

Come on TC, wake up your ideas!

Have a restful time at the glacier, but let's see a little bit of humility when you return. 

Meanwhile successful, experienced bloggers like Robert and I will carry on with a high level of achievement.*

Richard (of RBB)

* and more than 2 readers

There you go!

 Evidently Phillipe Geluck was the guy who originally said this...

That's not him in the picture.

Here he is...

He is a Belgian artist (born 1954 - so he's younger than Peter (The Curmudgeon) and funnier). 

It looks like Ricky stole his joke.

Make of it what you will.

A special message to Peter.

 Hi Peter, I promised you advice on a couple of issues that you may be facing. Here are four videos to help you on your way.

Let's go...

I don't think that Robert will get much out of these videos. He'd probably describe tennis as grown people hitting a ball around, and his solution to the 'Mike situation' would probably be to pray to the Blessed Virgin. I don't know what experience he has with retaining walls.

It's a little puzzling that you have taken to watching videos in Korean Peter. That's fine if you're trying to pick up some of the language, but there are plenty of gardening shows on YouTube that are in English too. Even one in Latin might be easier for you. Just trying to help.

Ciao tutti.

A special message to Robert.

 Hi Rob, lately you've been asking me about violin fingerings, the meaning of 'diatonic', and music in other cultures. Here are eleven videos that I hope will help you on your way.

Let's go...

I hope that helps.

I don't think that Peter will enjoy these. Maybe I need to do a post on retaining walls or how to get on with everyone at a tennis club? There you go, something for the future.

Ciao tutti.

2033.

 The 77 year old had decided to attend 10am mass. That way he got a sleep in. Sometimes he missed those times in the Presbyterian church on a Sunday morning. He still occasionally helped out in the church shop. Old Father Patrick had stopped the sale of condoms, so the Durex machine had been taken down. Sales in holy pictures had dropped off since the Holy Picture Hand Held had become popular. These days the church shop just sold altar wine and past the use by date hosts.

An old 80 year old from up north had seen an opportunity to get back into the stale host trade.

His Sundays were taken up with circulating left over hosts throughout the Hutt Valley. Sometimes he smiled to himself as he thought of his industriousness in the 1960s. It had finally come to pay off.

Over the hill, in Nuova Lazio, another old guy was practising but still not getting gigs.

However, Richard's Bass Bag* had become an AWARD WINNING blog that was very popular with all ages. It was now shown on a huge screen in all major cities.

No one knew what had become of those other minor blogs that went on about religion, dinner, gardening, and storms that might have been strong enough to blow over an outside chair.

A lot of things pass with time, but quality remains.

* the original bass bagging site

"Grown men chasing a ball around." Robert the quite a few different things.

 Richard got dressed quickly. He was late for mass.

Oops, sorry, that's Modern
Baxter, not Richard.

He'd watched the All Blacks thrash Argentina at their place and he felt good.

He found his car keys and headed towards the car. Then he remembered, "I don't have to go to church. I'm an atheist!"

At this same point in time Robert had already cleaned a Pagan church and spent half an hour sitting in the church shop.

He'd missed the rugby but contented himself by wondering how many notes there might be in the music of different cultures. If he had been paying more attention, who knows, he might have got a special 'hello' from the Virgin Mary whose statue was standing nearby. Still, he was busy wondering why there were only twelve different notes in Western music. Then he received a gentle nudge from Saint Maria Faustina.

"Robert, you're in the presence of Jesus and Mary."

Peter broke wind and decided it was time to get up. Well, his old bladder was begging for release.

Lately, what with The Old Girl being away, he'd taken to wearing his trusty old cap to bed. There had been a few household changes in Her absence and Peter knew that these changes were, in fact, temporary. His thoughts turned to what he would have for dinner. 

"There could be a post in that." he thought.

He liked to be regular in his blog posting. Somehow, he thought it made up for his aging bowel. Peter was not a bible banger, so Sunday church was not something that was going to happen. He didn't give a shit what Saint Maria Faustina thought or did. Anyway, she'd been a long time dead.

Richard was writing a post.* He was sort of taking it as it came. He'd summarized what Robert and Peter would probably be up to - he was sure that he heard Peter break wind in that moment. Robert would be listening to Father Patrick about now. He understood that Father Patrick was a bit of a wit. He guessed that you needed a sense of humour to write those silly sermons.

Now it was time to get some violin practice done. Well, that was his priority. It was up to Robert and Peter to take care of their own days now. After all, they were old big boys.

* this post

Blogging? One thing I am certainly not interested in is what you're having for dinner!

 I finished up going to Himatangi yesterday.

The place is looking surprisingly good.

There is someone who might be interested in buying the place so I dropped some keys off in Foxton and did a quick little tidy up of the 'showroom'. 

That meant that I only practised my violin for an hour.

However, it was a good hour's practice. I put on a backing track and played a blues in every key. It's a good way to get familiar with your scales and chord changes. It's all part of my careful exploration of the four diatonic scales (and their modes) on the violin.

Soon I'll start planning what we're having for dinner tonight. 

I won't be telling you, dear readers, because that has got to be the worst topic to write about. I know many imbeciles people on Facebook who are always taking photos of what they are about to eat. Why do they think that I give a toss? It's the same on blogs. If all you've got to tell us about is the food you're eating, why not just settle down with a Cleanskin and give writing a blog a miss?

Here are some other topics you should avoid blogging about...

• Masturbating.
• Fancying certain statues.
• The view from your window.
• A trip to the supermarket.
• A cricket match.
• Gardening.
• Going to an Op Shop.
• Putting cream on a rash.
• Fixing a door.
• A large chunk of writing that you copied from somewhere else.

I hope that helps.

Ciao tutti.