• What am I listening to?

    Oh, thank you for asking.

    Well, the days of listening to CDs seem to be long over, don’t they? I’ve not ditched all the CDs like Chris Pinnock has, but wonder how long I’ll go on with a cupboard full of little boxes.

    • Firstly and most splendidly there’s the Gyndebourne summer online opera festival. Oh yes, you can watch and listen to half a dozen or so glorious Glyndebourne productions. Like all opera should be, they are free at the point of delivery.
    • I briefly got sucked into the gay-country-pap of Steve Grand’s All American Boy the other day until I realised it was just like most representations of gay people in America – doomed to end in tears. (Cheyenne Jackson’s Don’t Wanna Know made me laugh, but it is more of the same – all American gay boys don’t get happy endings to their stories much in America).
    • Then something I saw somewhere reminded me of Alan Price’s O Lucky Man so I had a good listen to that.
    • I also came across Tom Gilfellon’s album In the Middle of the Tune on Spotify – something I’ve not heard since I ditched vinyl – here’s the first track The Banks of Red Roses.
    • Whilst I was getting stuff ready for Pride the other week, I needed some music to cheer me on my way so listened to Holly Near and sang along with Singing for our Lives.
    • Christy Moore’s Before the Deluge doesn’t get tired, does it?
    • Neither does Martin Simpson’s Prodigal Son album.
    • And did you know you can hear Frank Weir’s monumental 20th Century Folk Mass on spotify?  It is really a big band mass, but there you do.

    Spotify tried to get me to listen to Val Doonican the other day. I’m not letting on as to whether I did or not though.

     

8 responses to “Still snuffling”

  1. ryan Avatar
    ryan

    Kelvin, it sounds like you have the far more serious man-flu, not just a mere man-cold.

  2. Vicky Gunn Avatar
    Vicky Gunn

    Kelvin
    Apologies for keeping you at arm’s length in Church – just got over a dose of lesbian man-cold a few weeks ago, which I generously passed to all my colleagues at work. Having been persona non grata for that I thought I just shouldn’t risk it. Service last night was beautiful.

  3. Andrew Avatar
    Andrew

    Kelvin,
    The hardest thing to accept, when you’re not well, is that you really are ill. The best thing to do is to keep away from other people and stay in bed with a hot water bottle, and preferably with a hot toddy laced with plenty of whisky. It won’t do you any good, but it might make you feel better.
    Get better soon. Andrew

  4. Erp Avatar
    Erp

    Wrap yourself up in a warm bed with a comfort book and perhaps some comfort music (and this time of year allows carol singing as comfort music). I would suggest hot chicken soup (hot and sour Chinese style chicken soup maybe) instead of a hot toddy with whiskey.

  5. Stewart Avatar

    Considered opinion on Sunday is that is was not man-flu, but provost-flu 😉

  6. David |Dah • veed| Avatar
    David |Dah • veed|

    ‘Tis the season. I have had it for two weeks now. The first week I was a good muchacho and just used cold pills to relieve the symptoms, caldo de pollo con chili (it really opens the sinuses) and té del limón con tequila. Because I know that colds and flu are caused by viruses, I did not do the Mexican thing and go buy an antibiotic.

    But then the fluids turned green and yellow, which is the sign of a secondary bacterial infection, so I am taking amoxicilina con acido clavulanico, and slowly getting better.

  7. ChickPea Avatar
    ChickPea

    Was good to see we had the Precious Provostorial Presence in our midst last night – tissues and all. And even better to see the digits getting some exercise today – suggests there’s maybe been a slight turn for the better, despite missing out on a most medicinal port – do try port as a remedy, David – MUCH more effective than trying dreadful things with my poor chooks, who are trembling on their perches at the thought of erp’s suggestions…….

  8. Rev Ruth Avatar

    Are you languishing on your chaise longue with a blood-stained handkerchief held limply in your outstretched pale hand? If so, I fear it may be consumption.

    But no listening to Christmas carols, mind.

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