I have a Marshall Amp, which he uses, just dug out my Guitar (an Ibanez), and knocked out a few notes, bit rusty, but a month or so, would allow some melodic stuff, I’ll leave it where I can see it.
Nowt wrong with Ibanez,spitty. One of mine is an Ibanez,although I must admit to replacing the shoddy original with a Floyd Rose set-up with whammy bar. It’s true that F/R’s can be finicky to set up,the first time…but by JIMINY,they’re worth the effort! I use mine for everything from AC/DC numbers to more melodic,softer Muddy Waters riffs-although I run it through an H&H amp that happily pumps out 125db without distorting. I use the valve amp with my Burns 12-string…the undertone is truly amazing. All my semi-ac’s,I run through a 500 watt Delaney and the basses all run through a bloody great big Peavey-although I use pedals for effects,delay,distortion and even wah…a bass should SING,in beauteous basso profundo,not just ‘thump’ under the lead riffs.
I had to make up me mind rather quickly when I got an offer I couldn’t refuse, a couple of weeks work in Kilkenny restoring very old Celtic jewellery for a privately owned museum, great money and first class hotel accommodation, one would have to be an idiot to refuse it. So there you have it, a couple of weeks of very enjoyable ‘work’, a very fat cheque, the best of food and drink, dancing and traditional live music in the evenings, plus the promise of more of the same again in September, sure where would you get it?, I enjoyed every minute of it, yes me granny was right, it pays to learn a good trade when you’re young, it will stand you all your life, even into your old age if your lucky.;-)
Welcome back, Jem! You have been missed.
Sounds like a great job, by the way. What part of the country?
Good to see you back Jem 
Well done on the museum work too
Thanks Ania and Mags.
Sorry for the delay in answering Ania, I had to nip out for a while.
It was in Kilkenny, repairing and restoring pieces for a very wealthy private collector of ancient celtic Irish jewellery, some of it dating back to the time of Brian Boru (1014). The security peoples terms meant I had to bring down me own tools and work on the stuff on the premises, hence the travelling, you will understand I can’t say any more than that.
Bet you enjoyed that, Jem. It must have given you huge satisfaction, as well as the nice cheque!
Juno what…I’m rather proud of you,Jem. Dashed good show,old chap.
Of the not-very-many people capable OR trusted with such a task,YOU were Top Dog! Bet you’re feeling just a teensy bit proud,bro. An-mhaith,mate.
Thanks Pug. I’m guilty as I did feel a little bit chuffed with myself, especially when yermans mothers face lit up when she saw the stuff finished, she’s 98 and very proud of the fact, God love her she was over the moon and gave me a big hug and a kiss, it’s a long time since I blushed but you could light a fag off me face that day.
Talking about music I had to laugh at lunchtime today, we were having a pub quiz in the local and we needed a team member who knew a lot about music, we had a great sportsman, a decent historian, and a political nut already lined up, all we needed was the musicman. Paddy McGee strolled over to the table and said he was the fella we were looking for, ask him anything and he would tell us the answer. The team captain Tommy Burke, decided to ask him a general knowledge question just to get the ball rolling. “Alright Paddy” says he “Name five animals that crap standing up” Paddy scratched his head “Let me see now… there’s the Elephant and the Camel, that’s two, then you have the Horse, the Cow, and the Zebra, how’s that for yeh?” “That’s grand Paddy, now how many strings on a Harp?” Paddy was stumped. God yeh have me there now Tommy” “F…k off with yerself Paddy, your useless to us, you know more about shite than you do about music"
Well AKSHLY,yer fella Tommy has the right of it,Jem…coz one of the things I learned when I was busy musically,was that Orchestral harps have 7 more strings than yer basic "Rip-‘n’-Rock’ type harp. Yuss-not many people know that-and I was one of 'em…
I would never have known that ’til you told me Pug, fair play to you, you know about music, obviously then you know nothing about crap.
All I know about the harp is it’s on those brown envelopes the government keep sending out to me looking for tax and stuff, it’s the national emblem of Ireland and they say the more strings you can pull the better for yourself.
http://i736.photobucket.com/albums/xx4/jemflux/Charles_Stephens%20.jpg
I had better get this one in before April 1st.;-)
You’ve all heard tales of brave men and women going over Niagara Falls in barrels, rubber dingy’s, inside giant reinforced balloons, and hanging over the Falls tried up in straight jackets, but nothing compares with the feat of Paddy McKenna for sheer courage, he went over the mighty Falls on the back of an Elephant!
Paddy was a retired Jockey down on his luck and on the lookout for adventure. He bumped into Mick Barnum, grandson of the famous Phineas Barnum of circus fame, they met on 5th avenue in New York in the 1920’s and went into a Bar for a few drinks together, in the course of the evening Barnum mentioned that he had a champion swimming Elephant who could stay under water for nearly half an hour without surfacing for air, (an Elephant uses it’s trunk like a snorkel) the idea then sprang into Paddy’s mind and the pair of them set about staging the event for St. Patricks Day on the 17th of March the following year-1925. The Barnum publicity machine went into full swing and tens of thousands turned up for the ‘Feat of the century’ Barnum’s own words.
When all the rigmarole cooled down and the moment of reckoning was at hand, Paddy mounted the Elephant who was held in mid river by two heavy steel chains attached to two tugboats, two attendants strapped Paddy to the Elephants back and when the order went out for the chains to be released Paddy let out a mighty roar “Up the Rebels!” and him and the Elephant went rolling over the Falls.
Paddy was crushed to death instantly when the Elephant landed on his back hitting the bottom, he hadn’t time to press the quick release clasp on the strapps, had he not been harnessed onto the Elephant’s back he may well have survived, anyway there wasn’t a bother on the Elephant who went on to draw great crowds to Barnum’s Circus for many years after, billed as the only Elephant to go over Niagara Falls. Barnum, decent man that he was, looked after Paddy’s wife and two children providing them with a generous allowance for the rest of their lives.
By the way that photo is not McKenna.
More Topics on the forum.
Old photographs are showing a plenty
From both peasant and gentry
All posed for in far better days
When cameras came with ten second delays
So whether you came from Dublin or Dorset
You had plenty of time to adjust your corset.
Lots of people are gathering in the nude
For Arts sake, therefore not rude
So take off your kit and join in the fun
Matters not the size of your bum
Spread your charms for all to see
And do your bit for posterity.
I can’t remember my first book in school
Too busy messing and acting the fool
Under the desk I had one hand on the Dandy
And the other resting on the leg of Mandy
One day the teacher caught us lips smacking
He lifted his cane and I got a great whacking.;-)
Last good Friday night I left the bar of the hotel I was staying in and made me way upstairs, it was about 1am, the music from the ballad session was still ringing in me head and I was humming that old 1916 rebel song “Wrap the the green flag round me when I’m gone”, as I reached the corridor I noticed a tall slim Spanish looking chap fiddling with the lock at the end of the corridor, he was dressed in black, a black cloak and hat, and he carried a black silver tipped cane, in fact very similar to my old friend on the Sandeman bottle, I was in a good mood so I smiled and called to him “How are you me auld flower, I’ve always wanted to meet you in the flesh” He looked at me with a face that would turn milk sour. “What is dish!, who you think I am?” “Aren’t you the fella on the Sandeman port bottle?” I asked. “I’ve been looking at your picture for donkey’s years and you haven’t changed a bit, what’s your secret?” “I no no your Sandeman friend, I live in Roma, maybe you mix it up?” I apologised to him and went into my room, which incidentally was next to his.
I was in the lovely peaceful sleep of the dead when I was bombed back to reality by heavy pounding on Sandemans side of the dividing wall. What in the name of jaysus is wrong with him now, I asks meself so up I got and put on me Sherlock Holmes night gown, the black one with the white braid going through as worn by Basil Rathbone in all his Holmes films, knowing that I’m a great fan the wife surprised me with a present of it one Christmas. Anyway I knocked at yermans door to see was he alright, I got no answer, knocked a couple of more times and still no reply, I went downstairs and got the night porter then went back up the stairs with him, he opened the door and there was yerman lying on the floor motionless, his face was as white as me arse and his tongue was sticking out. Shortly afterwards an ambulance took him away and that was the last I heard of him until the next evening. As I waited for the taxi to take me to the train station and then home I saw the night porter coming in for duty and I asked him how the foreign chap was doing in hospital, he looked astonished and asked me what was I talking about, I churned out the whole story to him and he was truly surprised, they hadn’t any foreign people staying in the hotel so far this year and certainly no fella who looked like the Sandeman.
How strange is that? I know I didn’t dream it, I even felt the cold sweat on the fella’s forehead when he was on the floor. I’ve been checking the papers ever since to see if anyone bearing his description got bumped off, maybe it was all hushed up, stranger things have happened.
Needless to say I didn’t mention it to the wife or I’d get the same reaction as I got when I told her about the UFO I saw in the back garden a few years ago, once bitten and all that.
A bloke I know was always bullshiting, he told me he owned a dozen French Holiday Lets, didn’t even bother checking his story out, I knew he was “full of Gite”.
Talking about bullshit Spitty, I’m working on an epic poem entitled “The loneliness of the long Distance Snail” nobody ever writes about Snails, it’s not fair, just because they’re not fluffy and cuddly no one wants to know anything about them. I’m busy doing the research at the moment, haven’t got to the mating bit yet, messy business I’d say.
A white Elephant, how many times have we heard that expression, something that cost a lot but is useless, I used to think it was an Arctic Elephant when I was a lad.
Unlike the endangered African and Indian Elephants the herds of white Elephants are flourishing and increasing all the time, no stopping them and we all give generously to ensure their future existence. One great example I remember over here. Several years ago some bright eyed whiz kid politician decided we should all vote electronically, and as he was in charge of that department he ordered a couple of hundred thousand electric voting machines, great, as the saying was at the time “This is go ahead Ireland”, yes go ahead and ruin us. All the machines were never used, something about not consulting the public first and no paper trails, and God knows elections are dodgy enough without a paper trail to check out. That wasn’t the end of it, they were put into storage for another couple of years costing another fortune, when they tried to flog them off nobody wanted them, eventually they had to pay more money to have them scrapped, not a single head was slapped never mind rolled.
Another, though not a patch on the voting machines, was the famous “Millennium Clock”, nicknamed by Dubliners as “The Chime in the Slime” this piece of ugly crap was actually sunk into the river Liffey and was supposed to count down the days to the year 2,000, the thing had barely got it’s digits wet when things started to go haywire, it stopped for no apparent reason, then when they finally fixed it the bottom part of a boat smashed across it, fixed again, then some moonlight revellers dropped a concrete block onto it, after several more ‘accidents’ the clock was finally raised and hoisted off to the junk yard, I don’t think it ever managed to make it to the Millennium. Makes you cringe when you think of the idiots we allow govern us.
The Millennium Clock.
http://i736.photobucket.com/albums/xx4/jemflux/5537855647_a594502e53_b.jpg
I mentioned before that my son married an Italian girl and they have a place in Rome as well as here, well last September my daughter and her husband spent a week in the apartment there. Before she went I asked her to look up an old friend of mine Seamus (Shay) De Vanny, he used to be our regular barber here before he too married and went to live in Rome, now I know Rome is a big place but I had his last known address and gave it to her, it turned out that it was only about a mile from the apartment. It seems he no longer lives there so the daughter decided to try her luck and inquire at the nearest barber shop, she went in and asked the barber, who was busy shaving a client “Excuse me please, do you know Shay De Vanny?” He looked at her for a few seconds then said loudly “I shay the beard, I shay the moustache, I even shay the head, but I no shay De Vanny” she thanked him and walked out red faced.
Issa problemo,whenna peeps come-a to Roma but-a they no parla Italiano,Jem. Now,had she asked him to ‘Farsi la barba de Vanny’,he’d have whipped out his tool and stropped it!!!
I’m sure he would Pug.
I haven’t a word of Italian and when me sons father in law came over here we were like two monkeys trying to communicate with each other, the daughter in law had to explain everything to each of us, also my lousy jokes don’t translate too good, although when we got a few jars down we seemed to understand much better, ah drink, it always comes in handy on these occasions, puts us all on the same rung of the stairs.
Just thinking, there has to a term for referring to your son’s/daughters father/mother in law, it’s a big mouthful to have to say “My sons father in law” every time, maybe the “Once removed, twice removed” method they use for cousins could fit in there somewhere, anyway I just called him Gio and he called me Jem when we were face to face, we had a great laugh in the pub but I hadn’t a clue what we were laughing about, he’s a jolly little man with a contagious laugh.
I can never understand how folks can go to foreign countries for a holiday when nobody there knows what your talking about, sounds like hard embarrassing work to me, I’d sooner spend me few bob in comfort here in this country, the UK or USA, Australia is way to far to go, that journey would be the death of me.
Ummm…[I actually hesitate to write this,as I’ve just had a pop at a bloke who reckons he speaks every…that’s EVERY language]…but I had my pop in Estonian. If he can genuinely translate it without resorting to a google translator thingy,I’ll give him best…but I’d bet a whole Euro he cheats.
Anyway-for further instance as-and-when required,Jem;
“MY son’s father-in-law” is “Suocero di mi figlio”.
‘mi figlio’ being “my son” & ‘suocero di’ means “Father-in-law of”
ergo ‘Suocero di mi figlio’ = “Father-in-law of my son”.
[I shall now bugger off while proffering apologies to those who find my polyluingisism somewhat tiresome]