Are you feeling a bit of a failure in life? Not so fast! Here are two incidents that will cheer you up - hey, there are worse things happening out there!

 INCIDENT 1.

The Religious Curmudgeon (Really The Curmudgeon dressed up with a pillow up his front and a funny little hat).

The Religious Curmudgeon writes a post. He's taking aim at another blogger.

Read here...

Okay, cast your eyes on this bit at the bottom...

No Comments:

The request in the bottom line went unheeded.

I mean, he could have written an anonymous one himself.

Well, that was a wasted post. Ah, but I guess it's proofreading practice for the old guy. If he does, in fact, attempt to proofread.

INCIDENT 2.

Richard (of RBB) plays a solo violin gig (with backing tracks).

He is asked by the 'leader' of a group of older people staying a little north of Bulls (in a posh house in the country) to play some violin while dinner is slowly being prepared. 

Some people are preparing dinner, some are in a nearby swimming pool, two old blokes are playing a game where you throw a round thing onto a poking up stick and a couple of people are sitting drinking nearby. It looks to be a pretty relaxed gig. Richard (of RBB) plays some Bossa Nova pieces and some swing tunes from memory. He also throws in a couple of Irish tunes when they are requested by an Irishman who doesn't seem keen on Jazz.

He plays for almost an hour. Then he is stopped by a guy who requests a particular Neil Diamond tune. Richard (of RBB) says that he doesn't really know it. The guy is determined and offers his phone to be plugged into the small sound system. He evidently wants Richard (of RBB) to be replaced by recorded music. Richard (of RBB) obliges and puts his violin away. 

Now, whether he was playing well or badly, Richard (of RBB) feels insulted. This sort of thing doesn't normally happen to a live performer. The message, in this case, is pretty obvious, "I don't like your music so here's a better choice. Shut up and put it on."

A person who does something like this is probably not empathetic towards performers and probably has a very narrow taste in music. 

In any case, it was a FAIL for Richard (of RBB).

* * *

So, dear reader, maybe you're doing better than you think?

Always look on the bright side of life.*

* Two tips: If your blog post is getting no comments, write a few yourself or ask a friend to write something. Playing violin gigs will not always boost your self-esteem.

Out in the feilds. Oops, fields.

 

A talking tractor in Feilding.

They have very thin horses in Feilding.

Feilding: His original name was John Goodtobehere but it was too long for a road sign.

No one is safe from cobwebs in Feilding.

When you're making a statement in Feilding, but you don't really have time to plan it all out.

Halcombe. How come?

In Ashhurst they don't like slippery posts.

Coming soon... Who's fielding at Feilding?

 Richard's Bass Bag* introduces you to places near Palmy.

Also...

What went wrong with Richard's solo violin gig over the weekend?

And Gardens?

You won't want to miss this post!

* the original bass bagging site

Off to Marton.

 Near Balls.*

In the rural town of Balls, as an attempt to market themselves, they have erected witty signs like...

• Would you like a kick in them? Balls.
• You may see some scratching around here. Balls.
• We got rid of road signs. We wrote 'em on a scrotum. Balls.

The people of Marton tried to compete with their neighbouring town...

• We don't want a windy town, so no fartin'! Marton.

Unfortunately, like 'New Zealand's own Fox Town' (Foxton), Marton's caption never really took off and was taken down. It was replaced with a sign that simply read, "Welcome to Marton."

I assume that there is a lot of interesting stuff to do in Martin. If not, there's always looking at sheep.

Back Sunday.

* No, that's not a proofreading error. I did that on purpose.

Which is harder to throw, a gumboot or a sock? Does a nose ring make throwing these things easier?

 Study these gumboots for a moment.

When does a gumboot become a sock, or a sock become a gumboot?

Peter has spent quite a bit of time bragging lately about how good he is at throwing a gumboot.

Hey, just a sec, look at this gumboot that belongs to Peter.

It is just about as much sock as boot!

Hey, that's cheating!

No wonder he can throw it so far!

Okay, I can hear you, this throwing contest was in the 1980s. Maybe he cut down a boot and sewed it to a sock to make it look bigger?

Hey, this was the guy who saw an opportunity to make a profit from selling communion hosts. No stoop is too low for this guy!

And why is Robert now wearing a nose ring?

These two guys are up to something!

Something fishy is going on here.

I think it's time that these two bloggers were investigated!

Latest from the blogs.

 Good morning. It's Wednesday and I have the day off because it's sports day at Settentrionale College.

So, what's new around the blogs? 

Nothing of interest.

The Curmudgeon is evidently making a feature film about him throwing a gumboot. The post has been up for a while now. Yawn.

Robert's latest shows a picture (detail not shown here) of an injury his wife sustained from a cat (yes, a cat) attack.

Gruesome part of picture not shown.

These bloggers certainly know how to have fun!

NOT!

Why couldn't Peter (The Curmudgeon) just throw a gumboot at Robert? Now that post would have promise.

Like I said, I'm off work today. That'll mean some practice being done. Tomorrow we're heading up to Marton. Yes, I know, no one heads up to Marton.

Well, some friends have rented a posh house in the country, near Marton, and we are part of the ten people stating there for three nights. 

The idea is that we visit exciting local attractions, like expensive-to-see gardens. Sounds just like my thing!

I suppose that I could stay in the house near to nowhere and do some violin practice. Well, actually, I'm already paid up to see the expensive gardens, so I might as well have a look - there's nothing like a good walk.

I'll leave you there for today. If you're bored, go out and throw a gumboot. Maybe I should throw a gumboot around in those expensive gardens?

Ciao.

A rumour has arisen that is bigger than Jesus waking up!

 Sunday morning.

Robert was at church early because he was on duty at the church shop.

Richard (of RBB) arose just after 7am with the intention of getting some double bass practice done this morning. He would be attending a rehearsal at midday.

All very good, but there was bigger news out this morning...

Peter might be moving to Gumboot City!

Well, the signs are all there.

Recently he wasted money on made a purchase of gumboots with long black socks attached.

He is exhibiting a serious commitment to gumboots, and it stands to reason that the pull of Taihape was just becoming too strong. With his special boots he could really rise through the ranks in Gumboot City; it's possible that he could even finish up as mayor.

Mayor The Curmudgeon has a nice ring to it.

A gumboot boy comes home.

In years to come this could be made into a film.

Well, there is already talk of a book coming out later this year.

"The man in the boots."

Or maybe just, "Wearing the boots."

This could really lift Tiahape's profile. There's talk that the name 'Gumboot City' could be replaced by 'Land of the Boot' or 'Long Socks' or 'Rubber Dubber'.

The PR people in Taihape are evidently already working on a title that will appeal to young cool people.

'Taiboot' was also suggested, along with 'Boot it!' and 'Bootrap'.

Some Christians are seeing this as the start of a new, better religion.

Time will tell.

Will these be the next big thing?

Great News!

 The Curmudgeon has new gumboots!

Something like this.

It seems that they're good, except that he can't get them off.

Will he wear them to bed?

Well, he might have to.

Unless he learns how to take them off. 

He'll need to get them off on Tuesdays, because that's tennis day.

I mean, you can't play tennis in gumboots.

Mike will thrash him if he tries to play in gumboots.

* * *

What's on my mind?

Why would you thank god for his help in a war?

Is god really bald?

War. You don't know if these guys are bald
because they have helmets on.

I've played The Last Post at our local ANZAC Day ceremonies for about ten years.*

What really started to annoy me is that, during the main ceremony, they spend quite a lot of time thanking and praising the Christian god. Last year I handed the role (for this year) over to a friend, who is a Christian, but he wants to get paid.

WHAT!

He's a Christian and he wants to get paid? No one gets paid for being involved in a ceremony like this. Does he really want to get paid for thanking his god? I got in touch with one of the organisers and said that I'd do it if there was a problem (with the guy who wanted pay). He never got back to me. However, he did say that he doubted that the guy would get paid. Since I didn't get the courtesy of an answer, I guess it's not my problem anymore.

Why would some artist depict god as being bald? If god is perfect, you wouldn't really expect him to put on weight, or go grey or bald. Was the artist havin' a bit of a laugh?

When Peter bought his (expensive) new boots, did they throw in a free pair of long black socks?

Maybe Peter already had
the socks?

Don't be fooled - without the socks the boots wouldn't look so 'cool'. Actually, the main part of the 'look' is the socks and it could have probably been achieved with boots from The Warehouse, worn with long black socks. 

Where everyone gets a bargain,
and a long pair of black socks.

Well, I'll leave it there for this morning. Please feel free to leave a comment and don't forget to check out those gumboots at The Warehouse.

* I don't wear gumboots when playing The Last Post.

In action last Tuesday evening.

 

Before The Curmudgeon complains, I learnt these short posts from him.

Oh, and just going through some old boxes and found this...

American 'Bass Player' magazine.

Here's a close up that might be easier to read...

It's afternoon now and I'm still waiting on a comment from The Curmudgeon. 

Nothing much to say today.

Yesterday TC did a post on buying a drill. 

Robert's latest post is about St. Patrick.

Riveting stuff?

NO.

Saint Patrick walked into a hardware shop.

"Hey, we don't get many people dressed like that!" said the guy behind the counter.

"I'm not surprised." said St. Patrick. "It's a rather dull little shop."

"So, what can I do you for?" asked the man behind the counter.

"I'm after an electric drill." said St. Patrick.

"Okay, they're on the shelf over there, and please call me Paddy." said the man behind the counter.

"Hey, that's my name too." said St. Patrick. "This could get a bit confusing."

"What sort of drill are you after?"

"A plug in one. I'm tired of battery drills, they won't cut through metal."

"So, what are you trying to drill that is made of metal?"

"It's just an example of something that might be hard to drill into. How much are your drills?"

"That all depends on which one you choose Paddy. The better ones cost more and the cheap ones... well, they're cheap ones."

"Well Paddy, I read on a blog that a guy got a drill for twenty dollars. Do you have those ones?"

"Look Paddy, I don't know which blog you're talking about. The only blog I read is by a bass player. His name's Richard. A bloody good blog!"

"Do you know your fly's undone?"

"Hold on, I've got my banjo out the back. You hum it and I'll try to play along."

[a little later]

"Hey Paddy! We don't sound too bad together! We should start an Irish band!"

"Which one of us said that?"

"We could call ourselves The Paddy Wagon."

Is this how Irish bands really get together? Let's sing!

Got up early, went to a shop to buy a bun.

Do you know your fly's undone?

After all the rain it was good to see the sun.

Do you know your fly's undone?

The Paddy Wagon. That's Paddy with the banjo
and Paddy holding the fiddle.

New Post.

 Morning all. I'm just filling in time before I hopefully get some bass practice done before heading out to see the Chinese New Year parade with Shelley.

I had a great day yesterday because my grandson came to visit.

He's the shorter one.
Harrison Robert Prowse.

You can see him better in this photo.

I let him pluck the strings on my double bass. I guess that qualifies as his first double bass lesson. He'll still need to do a bit more work on his scales and his positional playing. I've still to introduce him to the bow. I guess his height could be a draw back for a while. Still, he's already a very good dancer.

And here's one with grandad giving some instruction...

What a lucky boy to have a dancer like that for a grandad!

Well, I'll leave you there for today. Double bass practice must be done.

Ciao for now.

Harrison replies...

"Aaaeeeaaa! Shrill! Aaaeeeeeeeeee! Nranbad not danns goot. Aaaaaeeeeaaaa!"

Okay, let's get this road back on the show!*

 Waitangi Day.

A good day for Robert to spend dressed as a frog.

Does he wear the suit in the water?

I'm back on hospital duty today - driving a friend of Shelley to Wellington Hospital (from Tawa - way across town) to visit her sick husband. It's all good driving practice for when I do my next tour. 

Speaking of tours, my tour with Lynn and Peter was a huge success. Peter seemed to talk all the way. He couldn't hear the tour commentary because he had left his 'ears' at home. Lynn made it clear that she was not impressed with his forgetfulness, but Peter couldn't hear her and just talked on. It was very interesting to finally see where Owen O'Dwyer lived.** 

I know that some of you are going to ask, "Who is Owen O'Dwyer?"

He was one of Peter's uncles. No, I don't know if he wore hearing aids. 

Uncle Owen.

I know I haven't really mentioned Waitangi Day, but I have been reading quite a lot about Te Tiriti. There'll be a lot happening up in Waitangi today. There will be lots of opinions (with bad grammar) on Facebook too. I'll try to keep up with events today. 

Okay, time to get a bit of practice done before I start driving. I've got to be ready for this gig next week.

Evidently the organising committee asked me to play at least one piece that everyone would know. I suggested that maybe I could play the bass line from Rock Around The Clock or a set of variations based on John Cage's 4'33''. I haven't heard back yet. Outside of Classical music, I don't know of any pieces that are written for solo double bass (and they have orchestral or piano backings). Maybe they'd be better off with my solo pieces than listening to an unaccompanied rendition of the bass line from Rock Around The Clock? I guess you can't please everyone.

I hope your Waitangi Day goes well.

Ciao.

* typo included to make Peter and Robert feel more at home

** not

Coming before anything from The Curmudgeon...

RSB TOUR A GREAT SUCCESS!

and

UNDERPANTS?*

* pants worn under your normal pants

COMING SOON... A VERY SUCCESSFUL RBB TOUR AND...

 WHEN ANOTHER MAN BUYS YOU SWANNDRI UNDERPANTS! 

Only at Richard's Bass Bag!*

* the original bass bagging site

What sort of name would a moth really have?

 

 

Most people who were writing about a moth would probably go with something like Malcolm the Moth, or maybe even Brian, for its name. Some more inventive writers might even go with something like Big Wings because moths have big wings. Clever!

In reality, if moths have personalized names, they most likely have nothing to do with human names. They would more likely be something like Wwerd or Niinch or Soonded.

Anyway, I'm not really here to talk about moth names. I was just interested in an experience that quite a few of them have.

It's summer and it's a dark night. Soonded is flying around. He sees a very bright light coming from a bathroom where someone like Peter is taking a bit of late night relief. He is captivated by the light and flies directly towards it. A window is partially open. Soonded flies into the bathroom, straight in the direction of the light.  A little later Peter has flushed, washed his hands and gone. Peter's last action was to turn the light off.  Soonded is now stuck in the bathroom and can't find his way out.

Yes, there is an open window, but
on the other side.

Here's my thought - are human near death experiences really like this?

1815251820 might know.