I Am A Rock
- Simon and Garfunkel

A winters day
In a deep and dark december;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship;
friendship causes pain.
Its laughter and its loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Dont talk of love,
But Ive heard the words before;
Its sleeping in my memory.
I wont disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room,
Safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;

And an island never cries.

Remember...

“Irrespective of your background or your position in society,
we’re all fundamentally the same. The ‘human element’
still remains the best source by which we feel we can achieve
our individual goals in life. And if it’s pitched at a level
that we feel comfortable with and we can relate to,
there is every chance we will be successful in our endeavours…”

- JK

Peace!

"October"


October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care?

October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on and on...

- U2

Lena Olin: "You don't quite believe what you know, do you?"

Robert
Redford : "Yeah, I do. I know I love you, Bobbi. And I know a butterfly can flutter its wings on a flower in China and cause a hurricane in the Caribbean. I believe it. They can even calculate the odds. It just isn't likely...and it takes so long."

JK says..."If you haven't cracked America...are you automatically robbed of ever being considered a truly 'great' band?!"

Grey's Anatomy

- Season 4 - Final Episode of Series . . .
. . . Final scene







MEREDITH: "Stupid, corny, idiotic. I cannot believe I did this.
Stupid. Loser. Son of a...I could be at home instead of...
Ugh. Stupid"



DERRICK: "Meredith..."









MEREDITH: "Where have you been?! I've been waiting and waiting for you!
And I did this stupid, embarrassing, humiliating, corny thing!
And I was just gonna tell you that this over here...is our kitchen.
And this is our living room. And over there...that's the room where
our kids could play! I had this whole thing about "I was gonna build
us a house" but I don't build houses! Because I'm a surgeon!


And now I'm over here feeling like a lame-ass loser! I got all whole and healed...and you don't show up! And now it's ruined because you took so long to come home! And I couldn't even find that bottle of champagne!"




DERRICK: "This the kitchen? Living room? A little small. I think the view's much better from here. And that's the room where the kids are gonna play? Hmm. Where's our bedroom...?"

MEREDITH: "I'm still mad at you! And I don't know if I trust you.
I want to trust you but I don't know if I do. So I'm just gonna try.
Try and trust you. Because I believe we can be extraordinary
together. Rather than ordinary apart.

I wanna be..."

(big sloppy, wet, long, smooch...)

DERRICK: "I have to go"

MEREDITH: "What?"

DERRICK: "I want to kiss you. I want to do more than kiss you. But I gotta speak to Rose.
I want my conscience clear...so I can do more than kiss you"


(Meredith sighs)

DERRICK: "Stay here. Don't move. Wait for me..."

End Credits...

Larry Mullen Jnr...The Artful Dodger

(In this blog I make reference to a good friend of mine and a massive U2 fan for over 25 years. I have given him a fictitious name of Ed)

You know how as you grow older, you go through periods of change and phases in your life?

Now I'm not necessarily implying that home made chicken soup is better than gefilte fish for a period of time or swapping the Feinbaums over the Goldsteins for Friday night Shabbat is a phase one goes through.

No, on this particular instance I refer to a song that you told yourself was the Greatest Song of All Time and you find yourself playing them over and over (and over).

Then, sometime later you start to question what you thought...was your Greatest Song of All Time is now looking decidedly shaky...

I'm not convinced there is a Greatest Song of All Time in the way that there isn't a Greatest Movie of All Time or for that fact a Greatest Chicken-A-La-King. It all depends on your mood and where your life is taking you at that very moment.

When U2 sang "Bad" at Live Aid back in 1985 (I was a bit young then, only 12 years of age) and my friend Ed (djynormous U2 fan) told me about this song way back in 1994, I gave it a listen and was really moved by the melody and the words. There and then I decided that "Us and Them" by Pink Floyd was no longer my Greatest Song of All Time and "Bad" had now taken Champions League Winners spot in my Top 10 music chart. It was my new Greatest Song of All Time, I told myself. But now I'm not so sure anymore. It is a beautiful piece of music and it certainly stirs the soul, make no mistake. The exquisite intro and Bono's vocals as the song climaxes into a cascade of gorgeous "D" and "A" chords. But it doesn't necessarily capture enough of what we as people are. By all accounts if I remember reading a book about U2, "Bad" is about what heroine does to you when you've just shot it up. And whilst that's relevant to junkies all around the world I'm not entirely convinced it sends out a positive message which makes you want to stop taking drugs!!!


Having been through each and every U2 album to date on my iPod; song for song, lyric for lyric, guitar riffs and Larry Mullen's drumming techniques, I'm left somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer greatness of this band. Indeed, it would be fair to say that I've seen the Greatest Rock 'n Roll Band of My Lifetime. The Greatest Stadium Band of My Lifetime and since the death of Freddie Mercury (whom I never had the privilege of seeing Live!), in Bono, The Greatest Front man of My Lifetime.

Of the many many many great songs of theirs (too many to single out) one song seems to be ever present in my mind. It's a song which is open to some debates and interpretations and one which according to Wikipedia has now been played in excess of 300 times and is ranked as U2's 14th most performed song to date.
source -- *** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%2240%22_%28song%29 ***

A song aptly taken from their "War" album and fittingly, the last track from it. Given that there are songs such as Sunday, Bloody Sunday on the same album (more about that in a follow up blog).

"40" Has that certain something that only a few of U2's live songs songs can capture. It's not my Greatest Song of All Time but it remains a song I've yet to see being performed Live! having been fortunate enough to see U2 on their PopMart tour at Roundhay Park in Leeds and at Twickenham Stadium during their Vertigo Tour.

For a start, Adam Clayton and the Edge swap guitars (during recording of the song in the studio, Clayton wasn't present that day so Edge had to play both instruments) and the über coolness of both these guitarists are enhanced 10 fold as a result. Then of course there's Larry Mullen Jr whose majestic drumming fills a 100 000+ Sao Paolo stadium and reduces the audience to fits of air drumming frenzy (and why wouldn't they??).

But it's more than that.

Much more.

There are 2 overwhelming reasons why as a fan and as a person you can't help but be in awe of this song (and the band) :

1 - "How long to sing this song?" is a political song in my opinion though it's a direct take on Psalm 40. Written during a time when the Catholics and the Protestants were at war with one another in Northern Ireland. The line implies --- How long to sing this song before we have peace?! And now that we have established a form of peace in Northern Ireland, this song could be sung in a concert in Afghanistan or Iraq or Israel. Some 25 years later it's just as relevant. One simple line of a song that rings true for millions of us around the world.

2 - My friend Ed and I have interpreted the live performance of "40" when Bono leaves the stage at the end of the gig, followed by Adam Clayton, then the Edge and leaves Larry Mullen Jr to play drums to be a representation of this being Mullen's band. He founded U2 after all --- IT'S HIS BAND! And in that way, there is no greater accolade to bestow upon the Greatest Rock 'n Roll Band of My Time then for the founding member of it to be the last one to walk off stage as a tribute to the man.

And you know something? When Bono, Edge and Clayton have left the stage, all that's left behind is Larry Mullen and tens of thousands of adoring fans who have undoubtedly traveled from far away places; scraped their pennies together to make the trek to the venue. And in that moment when the cameras turn on him and he places his drumsticks momentarily onto his lap and gazes across a see of faces, you know he's still humbled by the experience (some 25 years since forming his band).

And then it happens...

...he picks his sticks up, pulls a grimace on his face (for one last time that night) and starts pounding away at those skins. And you hear the distant voices of thousands of fans starting to sing "How long...to sing this song...?". Shortly thereafter, the rock of the band rises up from off his seat...checks out the 'peeps' (people) all around him and waves farewell to his audience and proceeds to walk off.

In my lifetime, I hope to see U2 play once again (and maybe even again after that). I've said this before that in years to come, Bono will be compared to the Greatest Songwriters of All Time; people will talk about the Edge and Adam Clayton with a moment's pause in between each name and Larry Mullen's decision to start this legendary band.

Greatness personified. Immortalised and revered.

The Greatest Rock 'n Roll Band of All Time


People say, "Why don't you do interviews?
What do you think about this? What do you think about that?"
My job in the band is to play drums,
to get up on stage and hold the band together.
That's what I do. At the end of the day that's all that's important.
Everything else is irrelevant.

—Larry Mullen Jr.




Peace!

JK

"Every year is getting shorter

Never seem to find the time

Plans that either come to naught

Or half a page of scribbled lines

Hanging on in quiet desperation

Is the English way..."

- PINK FLOYD

WASHINGTON SQUARE

I sold my piano
It couldn't come with me
I locked up my bedroom
And I walked out into the air
When nothing I needed
Was left there behind
I walked out through the shadows
Of Washington Square

I wandered the highway
From Dublin to Berkeley
And I heard the songbirds
Of BallyPooreen
But I loved like a fountain
And it left me with nothing
Just memories of walking
Through Washington Square

Now I live in the shadows
Where light is electric
And time is a number
That rests on a wall
And nobody knows me
My friends and my family
Are as far from this city
As Washington Square

So cover this warm night
In a blanket of starlight
and I'll follow this freeway
Out into the air
In case you should wander
and wanted to find me
I'm traveling homeward
To Washington Square

- Counting Crows

A Prelude To...

Sometimes the prelude to a kiss can be sublime.

The waiting. The wondering. The anticipation.

To lean in and hold the look.

To touch. To smell. To tease. To want.

A kiss is so much more than just a kiss. And I haven't even begun to talk about the nape of a woman's neck or that exquisite part of her inner thigh.

Or a very special place where only some tongues who know where to lick and what tantalizes will eagerly go...in search of a moment where a woman loses herself and 'lets go'.

JK

One Tree Hill -- Season 5 -- Episode 14 -- "What Do You Go Home To?"

Voice Over by Dan Scott...

“Its been said that the saddest thing a man will ever face is what might have been.

But what of the man who’s faced with “what was”?

Or what may never be?

Or what can no longer be?

Choosing the right path is never easy; it’s a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us.

But sometimes we find our way to something better.

Sometimes we fight with the regret and the remorse of our mistakes.

Our malice and our jealousy and the shame we feel for not being the people we were meant to be.

And that’s when we find our way to something better.

Or when something better finds its way to us…”

(Fade to credits...)

U2 Destroy London Kings Cross and the London Underground...

When U2 released "All That You Can't Leave Behind " back in 2000, I distinctly remember not really making very much time for this album. On the back of their previous record, "PoP", I recall that this was more than likely to be a similar type of album with lyrics which I didn't really take much notice of. I did not 'listen' to it. I do remember their chart singles, "Beautiful Day", "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of", "Elevation" and "Walk On" but that was about as much as I remember.

So having made my assumption(s), I left it for 8 years...

It was only a few weeks ago that a very good friend of mine and a djynormous U2 fan since the late 70's, reminded me about Bono's ability as a writer. So, armed with my iPod at work, I started going through their discography and came across All That You Can't Leave Behind and clicked on the play button...

It's hard to believe that 8 years have passed since the release of this album and how relevant it still remains to this day. For here is an album so full of spiritual enlightenment and hope that it blew me away. Knocked me off my Counting Crows and Pink Floyd ideological perches. And left me reeling in the wake of something quite extraordinary.

At 17 I stumbled upon Pink Floyd's "Another Brick In The Wall (Part II)" and realised how much I enjoyed listening to the sound of the electric guitar and how to this day, Dave Gilmour remains a source of inspiration for learning to play the acoustic and electric guitar (if I could just nail those bloody Barre chords!!!).

At 21 I was introduced to The Counting Crows and the song "Round Here" off of their debut album and appreciated that melancholy and the bittersweet taste of misfortunes in love and life was very real and that it could be related to on many different levels.

At 34 I've begun to realise the immense contribution that U2 has made to the world. Or should that be Bono? For we are talking about a singer/songwriter who will be talked about in years after U2 have retired and many years after they have passed on from their mortal beings. They (he) will be mentioned in the same breathe as Lennon & McCartney. Dylan. Tom Waits, etc.

In an interview with Charlie Rose, he (Rose) asked Bono what the joy of music meant to him?
And Bono responded with:

"Waking up in the morning with a melody in your head. And sometimes words have formed that follow on (from) that melody. And 2 months later, hearing it on the radio in Tokyo or Phoenix, Arizona or New York City. That's astonishing for me. I cannot get over that. And it's a gift. Which is why it's so upsetting when people get a big head. It's a gift".



Whenever I've traveled down to London and gotten off the train at Kings Cross Station, almost as a routine (or quite possibly a ritual) I choose the opening song off of their Achtung Baby album from 1991 (Zoo Station). 17 Years ago. I insert the earphone securely into each ear, click on play and slide my iPod back down, deep into my pocket.

It is at that point that my body suddenly becomes alive. My feet step up the pace. My legs start pumping. I'm an iPod created adrenaline junkie feeding off electronically distorted guitar sounds and Larry Mullen Jr's formidable drumming power for the first 29 seconds.

At precisely 30 seconds, the über cool Adam Clayton strums his bass guitar into life and warms up the melody. Chills and goosebumps erupt in a stunning opus. The dull, predictable shuffle of people walking to and fro from destination to departures; even the pigeons scrapping for food on the floor - their mere existence, destroyed by empyrean guitar riffs and the pounding of bass drums and snares.

And then it happens. Exactly 60 seconds in and Bono's made his virtual entrance on stage...between my ears. Dressed in virtual black with his suitable eye wear apparel, he opens the words of the song...

I'm ready
I'm ready for the laughing gas
I'm ready
I'm ready for what's next

Larry Mullen's giving his drum kit a lesson in self loathing as he beats away at it.

The Edge is making full use of his Gibson Les Paul Custom which emits notes and chords in a symphony of distortion.

And of course, Adam Clayton playing bass as only Adam Clayton can...

She's Just down the line...Zoo Station
Got to make it on time...Zoo Station

The walk towards the Underground Station are shoes filled with self arrogance (on my part). "Get out of my way!" could be written on my forehead. "Can't you see I'm surrounded (in a virtual 3D sounding) reality by the greatest Rock 'n Roll band of my time?! Of my generation?! Fuck Boyzone! Make way!"

If all the servers in the world came crashing down and were hit with a super virus that nobody could fix, I would hope that somehow there was just enough power left in one of them to keep this blog running. If only so that people in years to come can read about U2 and know that to see them live on stage; to see one of Rock 'n Roll's greatest ever front men in action and 3 other members of the band who are all masters of their own craft in action is to experience goosebumps upon goosebumps.

When you walk out of the arena from which you saw them play in, a smile and a debate will almost always ensue. And you're left wondering...after 4 decades of music...when is the next album going to be released and more importantly...when are they touring again?

U2 is an original species... there are colours and feelings
and emotional terrain that we occupy that is ours and ours alone.
- BONO

Peace!

JK

Self Pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
- DH Lawrence

Been There. Done That. (Still) Got The Trainers...

I've been listening to a couple of 'oldies' in my car these last few weeks.

Billy Idol's Greatest Hits have been filling my ears along with John Mellencamp's splendid "Lonesome Jubilee" album in equal amounts. There's also been a smattering of The Stone Roses thrown in for good measure. Tonight, I've been thinking about the early and mid 90's and it takes me back to a time when I was in my early & mid 20's and didn't really quite get that nostalgic feel or understanding as I do these days.

A good colleague of mine at work who's 57 was a 'mod' during the 'mod' & 'rockers' phase in the 60's.

He did it all:

Bit of petty crime but nowt worth mentioning. Took amphetamines. (Stevie Wonder touched his arm in a club, once). Wore the suit. Kissed the girls. Broke some hearts. Rode the Lambretta (scooter). Shagged like a good'un. Can role off Motown artists, their record label and the year of release. And can tell you all about his black music collection of that period. The epitome of what a 'Mod' was during that time.

He told me the other day that in his opinion, when you hit 25 or 26, you've peaked. That's it. Sure, you could try to look and act cool but when you're 21, 5 years seems like quite a long way off.

It made me think about the time when I first landed on these here shores in '94. Oasis had just become the darlings of the Indie world, releasing songs like Supersonic (ironically in the same month that I arrived in England - April) and their third single Live Forever. In 1994 I turned 21. By the end (and the height) of the Britpop Era (in 1998) I was 26. Precisely the same age as he had stated.

After '98 I think I kinda went off of things for a while. Oasis peaked in that year (and ever since they've not really made any memorable albums that I can think of). Britain lost its darlings of Britpop and were left to pick up the pieces of an era that brought people of my generation together. In nightclubs. In the T-Shirts that we would all wear. In the trainers that we walked (and danced) in. Our hairstyles. That feeling of confidence and a belief we all had. But above all...that swagger. I was even there in San Antonio in '96 when Ibiza had only just started to become a household name amongst ravers and clubbers.

I'm 34 this year and I have to say I still remember fondly those Britpop years and the bands that we listened to at the time. The Beatles. Oasis. The Charlatans. Prodigy. The Stone Roses. The Seahorses. Pulp. Suede. Green Day. Kula Shaker. The Verve. Etc. Etc.

I recall going to clubs on my own. This little club in Doncaster called BRITPOP. I danced and kissed (well, mostly danced) and every Saturday night, the DJ would finish off his set with the Live! version of Govinda by Kula Shaker or he'd treat us to Champagne Supernova and I recall taking my shirt off; stepping up onto the top part of the dance floor on the top step and just dancing and closing my eyes. I didn't care what people thought of me. I had fucking Champagne Supernova surrounding me! I was fucking king, man! Fucking inspired and never wanted the song to finish.

And I would walk back to my car at the end of the night I had had a really good time because I was listening to the music which I adored and loved.

Nowadays I guess I'm a bit more relaxed about things. Gained a lot more perspective. Life experience. An understanding of what it was like to be 26 and how care free life was back then. No debts. A small mortgage and a 1988 Volvo 360GLT with 106 000 miles on the clock and black leather seats.

I've peaked. I'm no longer 'cool'. Undeniably so and you'll hear no arguments from me about it. My hair's started receding a wee bit and I've gained a bit of a tummy to boot. But I'm happy in my life. All I need are those final 2 jigsaw puzzles to start coming full circle:

A good woman.

A couple of ankle biters (children).

I still like listening to Oasis and The Stone Roses. I don't particularly drool over the Arctic Monkeys nor the Kaizer Chiefs. I'm really enjoying listening to The Rifles these days (love the song Spend A Lifetime) but can't get away from my U2, Billy Joel, Counting Crows, Pink Floyd and dEPECHE Mode (to name but a few).

I've nostalgic memories and lived during an era where swagger, hairstyles and trainers were all very much a part of a movement. It's 2007 and there is no identity at the moment in Britain. No Kasabian, Arctic Monkeys or Fratellis are gonna suddenly start a new one.

So here's a toast to being 34 this year. Here's a toast to being part of an identity that influenced a nation. And I lived it!

Here's to being 34 and being smart(er) and wise(r).

"Where were you while we were getting high...!?"
- OASIS (May 1996)

Peace!

JK

In My World…

…there would be (more) people who agreed that 2 wrongs don’t make a right.

…I believe that one person can make a difference to ten fold.

…Pink Floyd reformed for a one off performance ANYWHERE in Europe and I’d (finally) get to see them play just once in my lifetime.

...people would look at themselves and stop moaning so much about the everyday things that get up their noses and look at some folk who are snowed under with work but seldom complain about it.

…if you did something unselfish just once everyday (even when you’re running late) that you would get your just rewards for being so thoughtful.

…love wouldn’t be so damn complicated!

…people who were ‘hard’, ‘tough’ and ‘uncompromising’ would find in the opposite person a form of understanding and that ‘human element’ which would give them a wider perspective of those who find it hard to deal with certain human and emotional confrontations which to them seems hardly worth bothering about .

…people would take more chances in life.

…compromises would be easier to accept and billions of us would have less disagreements and hurdles to overcome.

…Tom Hanks would have won the Academy Award for “Saving Private Ryan” instead of Joseph Fiennes for “Shakespeare In Love”.

...I'd learn from my mistakes the first time and not keep repeating them.

...I'd have the courage of my convictions.

...life would be more like John Cusack films.

...I wouldn't need to write all of the above...

Can't help it if I space in a daze,
My eyes tune out the other way,
I may switch off and go in a daydream,
In this head my thoughts are deep,
But sometimes I can't even speak,
Could someone be and not pretend?
I'm off again in my World
- AVRIL LAVIGNE

Peace!

JK

I wonder...

I'm beginning to think life experience carries a lot of weight in my life CV. And whilst there are exceptions to the rule, you rarely find a CEO of a company being 25 years of age. In my opinion it's simply due to them not having enough life experience to deal with the many challenges that lie ahead.

My dad always used to tell me that this also applied to heads of states. That you don't hear of a 25 or a 35 year old President or Prime Minister. And I concur (which isn't very often (with my dad) it has to be said).

At almost 34 years of age, I'm starting to look at life through different eyes. I'm a little bit more confident within myself and I'm able to address certain issues (and people) in a manner which I simply wasn't ready for, even 5 years ago. There's no swagger and there's no arrogance on my part. Merely an inner understanding of how to deal with any given circumstance with an air of maturity.

I asked a very close friend of mine whom I've known for over 13 years, what the peak age is for a person to be at the top of their game? When they see the wider picture; have perspective and an inner sense of understanding? His response was that he didn't know himself? But at 43 I see a level of maturity in him that simply wasn't there 10 years ago.

I can seek advice on matters with him where he gives me a focus. He talks about it in a way that makes sense to me and clearly he is someone who 'just knows' without having to tell the world so. At work, he has made the step up from Section Manager to Shift Manager and by all accounts is doing very well at it. Like it's a natural extension of his life-self and he's comfortable with the responsibilities that come with it.

I'm 9 years away from that. And yet I can already see my friend for the person he is becoming and I can only hope that in 10 years time I have the wisdom and that level headedness to be able to be there for a friend and have the answers that I seek and the guidance that I need in the way that he has been there for me since I arrived on these shores, 13 years ago...

Thank you John :-)

JK

Postscript...


In October 2005 I was informed by a dear friend of mine about blogging and sat down one evening to decide what to call it.

A-LONG-DECEMBER is a reference to a Counting Crows song title.

'A Sentamentalist (Fool)...well, quite obviously that's me...

I then needed a quote as part of my overall description of my blog. I cannot recall quite how I came about it and I never quoted the person in question who said it. Thinking about the World Cup in 2007 at the moment, I find myself in a moment of sincere irony. For, the quote describing my blog..."Yesterday's history..." was used by none other than...Bob Woolmer.


R.I.P.

Jy sal gemis word
You will be missed

JK

The Legacy of Millions of Air Guitarists and Aunty Rose's Gefilte Fish...

I've unearthed a real gem the other week..."CIVIL WAR" by Guns 'n Roses. The first track featured on their USE YOUR ILLUSION II album.

Not only do we find Slash grinding out some fantastic guitar riffs but we hear a more sombre, mature songwriting moment from a band who are more used to singing "Get in the ring, motherfucker!" or "Suck my motherfucking dick".

The lyrics to this song talk about the sacrifices great people (like Martin Luther King) have made and yet to this day, wars are still the way so many countries resolve their differences and how precious the word "peace" really is.

I would summise that CIVIL WAR is a protest song and it's really not that hard to figure out why...

My hands are tied
The billions shift from side to side
And the wars go on with brainwashed pride
For the love of God and our human rights
And all these things are swept aside
By bloody hands time can't deny
And are washed away by your genocide
And history hides the lies of our civil wars

I think this is a very special song attributed by a band which I'm not entirely sure deserves the hype but rather ought to be reserved for a particular member of the band. More about that later...

Guns 'n Roses came along at a time when Rock 'n Roll for me was still relatively new at the tender age of 14 (1987). I knew of Bon Jovi (didn't really warm to them). I knew very little of Whitesnake. And U2 had only just released their JOSHUA TREE album. I was too young at the time to appreciate the immense impact this album would have on the band. (Gefilte fish was already known to me though. We used to go to Aunty Rose and Uncle Ruben on a Friday evening after Schul and tuck into this fine Jewish food. Indeed, it would be fair enough to say that she left a legacy all of her own with this particular meal. But look, I'm digressing here...)

Back to my storyline...

With the release of APPETITE FOR DESTRUCTION, G 'n R blew the opposition away, didn't they? Hard, loud, raucous guitar riffs. A snarling Axl Rose on lead vocals and some dude with long hair covering most of his face with just a cigarette sticking out underneath it all, named Slash. But oy va voy, could he play guitar?!

I mean the guy rocked!

Indeed, according to a poll in 2004, Total Guitar magazine readers rated Sweet Child o' Mine as having the greatest guitar riff (the famous D-flat based riff) of all time. You needn't be a guitarist or a great lover of Rock 'n Roll to pick up your air guitar, arch your back slightly...and strum. Such is the catchy hook and sound of Slash's Les Paul (guitar) as he sends your air guitar into all directions and your fingertips into a frenzy.

Thing is though, looking back on Guns 'n Roses' discography, I cannot really recall a standout album apart from APPETITE FOR DESTRUCTION?

LIES featured Patience which is achingly poignant and enough to make any grown man cry and reminisce about a loved one past or present. USE YOUR ILLUSION I & II featured a handful of songs which granted, still features on many radio playlists to this day (Knocking on Heaven's Door; Live and Let Die and of course the epic November Rain being the most obvious). And finally, THE SPAGHETTI INCIDENT went by largely unnoticed. So the underlying reason for writing this particular blog, though I listen to CIVIL WAR time and again and have memorised the following words...

D'you wear a black armband
When they shot the man
Who said "Peace could last forever"
And in my first memories
They shot Kennedy
I went numb when I learned to see
So I never fell for Vietnam
We got the wall of D.C. to remind us all
That you can't trust freedom
When it's not in your hands
When everybody's fightin'
For their promised land

...is this:

Why the hype?

Aren't we mostly in awe of Guns 'n Roses because in fact it was Slash who really created the G 'n R sound (not overlooking Axl Rose's vocal input)?

Is it in fact the case that G 'n R weren't ever really all that good as a songwriting band in the way you would associate (in my opinion) Pink Floyd, U2, Dylan and even Counting Crows?

Is G 'n R in fact really not all about Slash?

Am I stirring a hornet's nest? Opening a can of worms?

Is it his legacy which remains the rock solid (pardon the pun) reason why air guitarists all over the world from Gringley On The Hill in Yorkshire to Gongyizhuang in Beijing still get their Fender air Stratocasters and Gibson air Les Pauls out submitting epic air guitar solo renditions of Sweet Child 'O Mine and November Rain?

Are we therefore focusing on the musical ability of a band member who came...saw...and left a legacy of air guitarists in his wake? Filling tens of millions of people's eardrums with a sound so crisp, you're left realising that your eyes were actually closed and you need to open them up to get back with reality? A man only known by a few as Saul Hudson. Born in Hampstead, London to a Jewish (purely coincidental) English father. A man whom us mere (air) guitar mortals commonly refer to as...Slash.

Peace!

JK

"And the Germans killed the Jews
And the Jews killed the Arabs
And the Arabs killed the hostages
And that is the news"

- Roger Waters

"Some Of Us"
- STARSAILOR


Heard you today, that isn't my name, you were fast asleep,
Forget what he did, can I be the kid for your soul to keep.
Some of us laugh, some of us cry,
Some of us smoke, some of us lie,
But it's all just the way that we cope with our lives.

I've grown to see the philosophy of my own mistrust,
We all have our faults, mine come in waves that you turn to rust,

Some of us laugh, some of us cry,
Some of us smoke, some of us lie,
But it's all just the way that we cope with our lives.

I've been hanging onto something,
You keep laughing awe-inspiring.

Some of us laugh, some of us cry,
Some of us smoke, some of us lie,
But it's all just the way that we cope with our lives.

Some of us laugh, some of us cry,
Some of us smoke, some of us lie,
But it's all just the way that we cope with our lives.

My wandering soul found solace at last,
I wanted to know how long it would last.
She's losing control, she's coming down fast,
The heart that I stole, I'm not giving back, never giving back.

"Silence Is Easy"
- STARSAILOR


Everybody says that they're looking for a shelter,
Got a lot to give but I don't know how to help her,
I should just let it go till they learn how to grow,
And how to liberate.

Everybody says that she's looking for a shelter,
Got a lot to give but I don't know how I felt her,
They should just let it go till these cities learn to grow,
And how to liberate.

Silence is easy, it just becomes me,
You don't even know me, all lie about me.

Everybody says that I'm looking for a home now,
Looking for a boy or I'm looking for a girl now,
I can still let it go, I can still learn to grow,
Into a child again.

Silence is easy, it just becomes me,
You don't even know me, why lie about me.

Silence is easy, it just becomes me,
You don't even know me, why do you hate me.

"If There Is A God"

If there is a God
I know he likes to rock
He likes his loud guitars
And his Spiders From Mars

And if there is a God
I know she's watching me
She likes what she sees
But there's trouble on the breeze

Who are you this time?
Are you one of us flying blind?
Because I'm down here throwing stones
While you're so far from home

And if there is a God
I know they're on TV
They're the spies with bedroom eyes
Who cowers in our sky
Who are you this time?
Are you one of us flying blind?
Because I'm down here throwing stones
While you're so far from home

And If there is a God
If there is a God...

- Smashing Pumpkins

Don't Give Up

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

So, the proverbial 'curve ball' (often referred to as an unfortunate event) is hurtling its way towards you. The closer it gets, the bigger it appears to be...

The easy option here is to let it continue on its path and to let fate take its course. You strike out. You've nothing left to offer anymore and the last so called 'innings' of your life is coming to a close...

In life, we all have choices. I mean we can all agree on that. Some of us make a decision and it works out. We land with our bum in the butter and everything comes up roses. Then there are those whose decisions sometimes unfold in a manner which is far far away from the proverbial butter or indeed the garden of roses...

I'm just trynna' find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I'm not here to tell you how to fix what is broke. Nor can I can tell you that after reading this that all your problems will be resolved. What I can give you is some perspective. Some idea. A focus. A belief.

I never thought you were a fool
But darling, look at you.
Ooh.
You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight
Cause tears are going nowhere baby

I'm of the opinion that what you give out in life is what you get in return. The whole concept of it being returned two fold or ten fold I'm not entirely sure I have an answer for as yet. I'll have to get back to you on it.

Jewish people have a word known as MAZEL. It means 'luck'.

In thinking about Mazel, we often use a word called MITZVAH. It basically means to do a good deed. And I'm starting to believe that what you give out in life is what you receive in return.

Help an elderly lady across the street and somewhere down the line a bit of mazel will come your way. Say hateful things towards a work colleague of yours behind their back and you gotta know, karma's gonna bite you in the toches (buttocks).


And you know? The truth is, mazel and karma have the most amazing ways of revealing themsevles to you. It could be that you receive a phone call or a text message from someone whom you haven't heard from in ages. A voice or a few words in a text that can brighten up your day. Take your mind off what is causing you so much grief and sorrow in your life for a short while.

It could be a stranger walking down the street who looks at you for a brief moment longer than normal and you're left wondering what they saw in you?

So in thinking about how you might be feeling about yourself and your circumstances, the human psyche has a way of opening up previous locked doors inside your head which you thought were closed and bolted down. Padlocks all over but there's this mystical key that can unlock them all. It can break the chains; liberate the room from all its heavy shackles and restore you to a point where you start believing in hope and the ultimate prize which you yourself did all on your own, restore hope within yourself.

Hope...


Remarkable.

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it


Doors with signs on such as "Good Deeds". Another that has "Unselfish" printed on it and lest we forget the door that has the sign of "Belief" on it. They can all be unlocked by yourself (even if it means having a bowl of home made chicken soup before you attempt to unlock the first door...)

I know you don't know me and you might think I'm too much of an idealist, but please consider for a few brief moments my thoughts and idealisms.

How about doing a good deed for someone today? How about looking down that dark (seemingly endless) tunnel in which you find yourself filled with despair and sadness and digging really deep to find a moment in which you do something unselfish. I can't guarantee you instant rewards nor can I guarantee that your unselfishness will yield a good return. But I've been on this planet long enough to know that more often than not, something good will happen!

And if they do, well, I can't begin to tell you how much of a lift it can give you. How it could draw you closer to a faint light at the end of your tunnel. And the potential affects it could have on someone who that very same day might've felt somewhat similiar to yourself and without realising it, (you) gave them hope to wake up tomorrow with the possibility of knowing that around the corner is a mitzvah waiting to happen.

Whoever you are, I believe that several mitzvahs can create a chain reaction of events to salvage your sense of being. To make you believe in yourself and who you are.

Just try it and if it works, let me know and I assure you as I am writing this, that you will have made someone who knows (and loves) you very proud indeed.

Here's hoping tomorrow's the beginning of something special.

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass

Good luck x

JK

(lyrics in green from the song "Stuck In A Moment" by U2)

There are 3 types of Synagogue 'go-ers' in this world:

1) Those who go to Schul to be seen wearing their trendy new hat or shiny new suit whilst continuously looking towards where the opposite sex is sitting, hoping to make a good impression.

2) Those who go to Schul and spend the whole Service ignoring the Rabbi's readings and instead chat to their friends whom they haven't seen since the year before (sporting their Sheffield Wednesday's Football Club yamukah).

3) Those who go to Schul to re-affirm their identity as a Jew and to know how good it feels to be amongst fellow Yids (if only for a few hours).

There are 3 types of people in this world:

1) Those who'll tell you they've achieved great feats but struggle to have a conversation with 'Sally' who works for the Co-Op on the Checkout.

2) Those who'll tell you that Sally at the Checkout is a really lovely person but can't remember if Sally asked them if they needed help with their packing.

3) Those who'll tell you Sally only works Tuesdays & Fridays. Politely asks if you need help with your packing and is able to leave you walking out of the store with a smile on your face.

Tom Wingo [narrating]
"So I returned to my Southern home and my Southern life.
And it is in the presence of my wife and children that I acknowledge my life. My destiny.
I am a teacher. A coach. And a well loved man.
And it is more than enough.

But it is the mystery of life that sustains me now.
When I look to the North.
And I wish again that there were two lives aportioned to every man...and every woman.

At the end of every day I drive through the city of Charleston and I cross the bridge that
will take me home.
I feel the words building inside me. I can't stop them or tell you why I say them.
But as I reach the top of the bridge these words come to me in a whisper.
I say these words as a prayer, as regret, as praise.
I say: Lowenstein, Lowenstein..."

FIRST THEY CAME...

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out --
because I was not a communist;

Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out --
because I was not a socialist;

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out --
because I was not a trade unionist;

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out --
because I was not a Jew;

Then they came for me --
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

- Pastor Martin Niemöller

If You Are Unhappy...
(A story about a sparrow)

Once upon a time
there was a nonconforming sparrow
who decided not to fly south for the winter.
However, soon the weather turned so cold
that he reluctantly started to fly south.

In a short time ice began to form on his wings
and he fell to earth in a barnyard, almost frozen.
A cow passed by and crapped on the little sparrow.
The sparrow thought it was the end.
But the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings.
Warm and happy, able to breathe, he started to sing.

Just then a large cat came by
and, hearing the chirping, investigated the sounds.
The cat cleared away the manure
found the chirping bird
and promptly ate him.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY

1) Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
2) Everyone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend.
3) And if you're warm and happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.

"J"udgementalDate. The Meshuganeh Driver and the non necessity of the C-Major7th Chord...



I've come to the conclusion that being a Jew is a bit like learning to play the guitar...

At first I was shown how to play a few simple chords:

A-Major
D-Major
E-Minor
C-Major (bit harder)
G-Major
E-Major
A-Minor

"Oy vey iz mir. The pain of the fingertips only mine enemy should know..." (as your Bobba might've said)

Gradually though I began to find that my fingers were being placed on the strings relative to the chord I wanted to play and now, some 10 months later, whilst I'm still years away from being able to play in my own band, I'm making positive strides.

So the ability to play the more simpler chords on the Guitar (of which there are over 1300) has allowed me in theory to play songs such as Buddy Holly's PEGGY SUE. As for the Havah Nagilah, well that I'd like to play one day at my own Jewish wedding. God willing.

So you're probably asking yourself what has playing the guitar got to do with being Jewish?

It's actually quite simple. My fingers were able to find the chords which at first seemed a bit out of my reach. I can't explain to you how they know where to place themselves on the strings. They just do. And it's the same sort of explanation I find myself writing about and talking about to fellow Jews whom I have been on dates with and with a great Jewish friend of mine.

It's that unspoken word. That connection. You just know! The knowledge that I don't need to explain to a Jewish woman whom I'm on my first date with what the term Oy Ge Valt means? Why I could say, "Whilst driving down to London today, there was a meshuganeh driving past me on the motorway at 100mph! You should have seen him. I tell you!"

For the last 2 years I've been given advice from my family and from my good friends who quite obviously have my best interests at heart. "J K, why don't you give up the search for your Jewish woman? You don't earn enough money. You're not in the right job. You don't live in the right part of the country. Why don't you find yourself a nice shiksa who isn't as materialistic and money driven and doesn't live 160 miles South from where you currently reside?"

And they have a point.

However, I'm a JEW after all! Am I not supposed to be looking for a Jewish woman? Am I to give up my search simply because living in Yorkshire puts me at a distinct disadvantage, geographically? We'd sooner not meet our potential partners online, however given that London is 165 miles South from where I live and Manchester is 65 miles from where I live, I still have to travel (yet for me it's not an issue).

Here is where I digress for a few paragraphs (and become somewhat opinionated)...

JDate (of which the "J" is an abbreviation for "J"udgemental not "J"ewish) is a website where Jewish Singles log in each day in search of their perfect match. The Masters Degree women are looking for their ideal match in a guy who has a Masters Degree. The sporty waterskiing guy is searching for his ideal match as the woman who's going to be driving the speedboat.

The successful Doctor is looking for their ideal match as someone who is ambitious, focused and driven. The well travelled woman (who is so excited to tell everyone where she's travelled and how life changing an experience it was) wants to meet someone who is equally keen on trekking through the tropical rain forest and last but certainly not least...the City Power Suit man who "works hard and plays hard" is looking for the same type of woman as his ideal match.

Judgemental Date is all about where you live, what you do and where you're going. There is no successful doctor who might be willing to match up with a successful plumber because let's face it, I'm assuming there aren't too many Jewish plumbers? There's even less Jewish Postal workers! So how is it that the 'ordinary' person from the street is going to find an 'ordinary' Jewish match on Judgemental Date? Certainly, Judgemental Date isn't only made up of Lawyers, Doctors, Fashion Designers, Entrepeneurs, Actors and Actresses. There are Hairdressers, Secretaries, Housewives and Teachers. And yet, we're still too fussy about what we want in our potential partners.

The Lawyers who have been on the site for well over a year now are still logging in nearly everyday. The Primary School Teacher who has a Masters Degree is still logging in each day. The successful Doctor is pretty much doing the same for the same length of time as is the Lawyer. And so on and so on...

What I can't seem to fathom is how come, a year later, some of the most beautiful, well educated women (bearing in mind I seldom check out the guys on Judgemental Date for obvious reasons...) are still single? How is a supposed "successful businesswoman" or a Lawyer who runs their own business still single after 12 months? Or even yet, 18 months? How come we feel like we need to hold out for someone better (and I'm quite sure I'm guilty of this myself)? Or why we can't accept that the potential guy or gal who will make us laugh and make our knees wobble happens to live outside of (North) London?

We all know that connection I spoke of earlier. We all know why we're proud to be Jewish and why even a handful of visits to the Synagogue every year for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur makes us feel like our identity is in tact. We all know why chicken soup is the Jewish penicillin for Jewish folk.

What we fail to understand is that the basic chords of a guitar can still make for a beautiful song. We don't need a fancy C-Major7th chord as an A-Shaped Barre chord to create a lullaby or a song by Tyler Hilton.

What we need to get back to is our roots. Our identity. Remembering what it's like to be in the company of my generation of Jews. Someone who still uses Yiddish in their everyday conversation. Who can tell Jackie Mason jokes and knows the difference between Gefilte Fish and Rollmops.

Forget the fact that someone who sends you an e-mail hasn't got as many qualifications as yourself or that they don't have a full head of hair. Does it matter that they don't have a Bachelor's Degree but can quite easily mingle with your Lawyer friends (who quite possibly wouldn't know how to have a conversation with the everyday people of this world)?

Clearly this is an issue which has been running around in my head like Bruce Fordyce who won the Comrades Marathon in South Africa during the late 80's and 90's.

I wanted to put this down in words as I'm finding it more and more frustrating being a single Jew and wondering why it is that with 290 000 Jews living in the UK, so many of us haven't as yet taken our heads from out of our arses...

Peace!

J K

There are six billion people on this planet

But I'll only ever fall in love with two

One is a black and white photo of Grace Kelly

And the other you might like to know is you

- Paul Gilbert

"I Hate Everyone"
- Get Set Go

Some stupid chick in the check out line
Was paying for beers with nickels and dimes
And some old man had clipped coupons
And argued whenever they wouldn’t take one.
All I wanted to buy was some cigarettes.
But I couldn’t take it anymore, so I left.

I hate everyone.

All the people on the street, I hate you all.
And the people that I meet.
And the people that I know.
And the people that I don’t.

Some fucking asshole just cut me off
And gave me the finger when I fucking honked
Then he proceeded to put on the brakes
He slammed on the brakes, but I made a mistake
When I climbed out of my van he was waiting.
But he was six three and two hundred pounds of Satan.

I hate everyone.

I bet you think I’m kidding.
But I promise you it’s true.
I hate most everybody.
But most of all,I hate you.

And the people in the East,
I hate you all.
And the people I hate least.
And the people in the West.
And the people I like best.

http://www.myspace.com/getsetgo

One Tree Hill - Season 3 - Episode 1 -

Final Scene...


At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world.

Some are running scared
Some are coming home
Some tell lies to make it through the day
Others are just now facing the truth

Some are evil men at war with good
And some are good struggling with evil

Six billion people in the world

Six billion souls



And sometimes all you need is ONE.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1114874786

“Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone.”
- OCTAVIO PAZ

"The courage of life is a magnificient mixture of triumph.... and tragedy. A man does what he must, inspite of personal consequences... in spite of obstacles and dangers... and pressures... and that is the basis of all mortality."
- JOHN F. KENNEDY

Garden State


- We're not gonna make out or anything.

- What?

I'm sorry. I just totally ruined that moment, didn't I?

- No, no.

- It's just that we're not gonna make out, okay?

- Oh, no, I hadn't planned on trying...

- Oh, my...I am so lame.

That was like really... I am...
I'm sorry. Forget I just said that.

I am...That was dumb. And...
- You know what I do when I feel completely unoriginal?

- What?

# La, blah, blah Blah, la, la ##
I make a noise or I do something that no one has ever done before.
And then I can feel unique again even if it's only for like a second.

So, no one's ever done that?

No, not in this spot. No. You just witnessed a completely original moment in history.
- It's refreshing. You should try it.

- Oh, no. Thanks.

- No, come on.

- I think that was good enough for both of us.
Come on. What are you, shy?
This is your one opportunity to do something...
that no one has done before and that no one

will copy again throughout human existence.
A-And if nothing else, you'll be remembered

as the one guy who ever did this.
This one thing.

#! Uh...wri gri nng gr mpf #!
How was that?

Oh, I've done that one before.

(script courtesy of http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/garden-state-movie-transcript.html)

"Blues Run The Game"
- Counting Crows

Catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues run the game

Send out for whisky baby
Send out for gin
Me and room service honey
Me and room service mama
Me and room service, well
We're living a life of sin

When I ain't drinking baby
You are on my mind
When I ain't sleeping honey
When I ain't sleeping mama
When I ain't sleeping, well
You know you'll find me crying

Catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues run the game

Living is a gamble baby
Loving's much the same
Wherever i have played
Wherever i throw those dice
Wherever i have played the blues they run the game

Maybe when I'm older baby
Somewhere down the line
I'll wake up older
So much older mama
I'll wake up older
And I'll just stop all my trying

So catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same

Take a little piece of heaven

Add some heartache and a dash of pain

Pour in the contents of one person’s soul

And add infinite dreams . . .

<<:::::>>

In the summer of 1995 I was sitting on the floor of my cousin’s bedroom one afternoon. I remember that day vividly as Matt also introduced me to the band Live. But I never really, truly warmed to them (sorry Matt, but we’ve been down this road before…)

Track 1 – Debut album and I recall this particular song in question being played. It just kinda sat comfortably around my earlobes, you know? Like an ice cream Sunday which is not too cold on the tongue or teeth and is at just about the perfect temperature to wrap your lips around the teaspoon and savour the first few seconds of swirly wirly flavours (before eventually succumbing to the taste and tucking into it with vigour and verve). The song in question was called Round Here. I liked it from the first time I had heard it. The band’s name . . . ?

The Counting Crows.

My love affair has spanned 2 continents and 7 concerts (thus far). I have stayed in a woman’s dormitory at Michigan State University and attended a Sociology lecture that week. I made love to a blonde haired Varsity student all week long and saw the Crows play on the Saturday evening at M S U Auditorium and flew back the following day to England.

I think sometimes we all look for someone or something to hold onto during times of happiness and sadness. And that’s ok. If it means you get yourself a little puppy or kitten to stop the loneliness or pour all of your energy into your work, there is no right or wrong.

It’s sort of like learning to play a piece of music on a guitar. There are numerous positions on the guitar’s fret board where the same song can be played yet sounds a little bit different. It’s an interpretation, my music teacher told me. There is no right or wrong idea that brings solace and inner peace to an individual.

So for me, the Counting Crows became my comfort blanket.

My “little piece of heaven”.

You know the moments in life that pass you by? And you’ll find yourself one day, sitting on the front porch of the retirement home and reminisce about the times gone by. And I just wonder if certain bands that you loved when you were an adult in your 20’s and 30’s somehow still have a safe place somewhere in your heart? And maybe, just maybe, if that is in fact the case, then I do believe that the Counting Crows have already secured their spot. Kinda put in a bid for it already and it was successful.


I think these days about the expectations placed upon a Crows fan in anticipation of a new album when they had just formed in the mid 90’s. What was it going to entail? Was it going to be more of the same? Was it going to be Adam Duritz pouring his heart out about failed relationships and sleepless nights of insomnia? Was it to be about his childhood and some of his heroes that he dreamt about in bed at night? And more importantly, were we going to hear something that became a trademark Counting Crows phenomenon?

Melody.

And Duritz never failed to deliver on that score.

On their debut album AUGUST AND EVERYTHING AFTER, we see a 30 year old Duritz contemplating his life’s turmoils :

“And I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone

I can't go outside

I'm scared I might not make it home

I'm alive, I'm alive

But I'm sinking in

If there's anyone at home at your place, darling

Why don't you invite me in?”

We discover the insecurities that lies beneath the surface :

Mr. Jones and me look into the future

Stare at the beautiful women

"She's looking at you, I don't think so. She's looking at me."

Standing in the spotlight

I bought myself a gray guitar

When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely

I will never be lonely

I will never be lonely


Throughout the Crows albums we see Duritz’s darker, (disheartening) take on his life and mindset:

Get away from me, just get away from me

This isn't gonna be easy

But I don't need you

Believe me

You got a piece of me

But it's just a little piece of me

And I don't need anyone

These days I feel like I'm fading away

The thought provoking, insightful, introspective Duritz singing about the people who have touched his life and his continuous search for ‘the one’:

All my friends and lovers

Will leave me behind

And I'm still looking for a girl

One way or another

I'm just hoping to find a way

To put my feet out in the world

And with the release of their last studio album way back in 2002 (funny how that seems ages ago now), Duritz is still able to create sublime melodies with bittersweet lyrics…

I put my summers back in a letter

And I hide it from the world

All the regrets you can't forget

Are somehow pressed upon a picture

In the face of such an ordinary girl

Duritz was a part of my life in my mid 20’s when (I was) still somewhat confused and unsure of direction and certainty about a lot of things. But at 32 I feel like I’ve grown up a little bit. My friends and family around me have grown with me and that sense of ‘needing’ Duritz has diminished somehow.

It’s 2006 and I read with great interest from Duritz that the Crows won’t be releasing their next studio album until early 2007. It’s not that I’m terribly upset or disheartened (it’s part and parcel of being a Counting Crows fan; the waiting for another album), however I feel like that ‘comfort blanket’ I used to have (and like) I no longer require. Maybe it’s an age thing with me and I’m no longer 22. Or maybe it’s because I understand that man cannot live on Counting Crows alone.

I haven’t put Duritz “back in a letter” as he sings about in the abovementioned lyrics. More like he is my “blanket of stars that covers me in my bed”...

SERENDIPITY

Jonathan Trager - A Hopeless Romantic's Obituary...

"Jonathan Trager; prominent television producer for ESPN died last night from complications of losing his soul mate and his fiancé.

He was 35 years old.

Soft spoken. An obsessive. Trager never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden, quasi Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha-Christie-like pursuit for his long reputed soul mate. A woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or co-incidences. Uh uh. But rather it’s a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan.

Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Dean Kansky, the Pulitzer prize winning author and executive editor of the New York Times described Jonathan as a changed man in the last days of his life. Things were clear for him, Kansky noted. Ultimately, Jonathan concluded that if we were to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call ‘fatum’. What we currently refer to as…destiny".

Final scene from Grey's Anatomy - Series II - Episode 18


Meredith: Hey

Derek: Hey. You almost died today.

(Brief Pause)

Meredith: Yeah, I almost died today.

(Derek opens the front door to leave)

Meredith: I can’t…

(He pauses, looks back at her)

Meredith: …I can’t remember our last kiss? All I could think about was I’m gonna die today and I can’t remember our last kiss. Which is pathetic but, the last time we were together and happy, I…want to be able to remember that. And I can’t Derek. I Can’t remember.


Derek: (I’m) Glad you didn’t die today.

(Meredith turns round as if to walk back away)

Derek: It was a Thursday morning. You were wearing that ratty little T-Shirt you looked so good in. The one with the hole in the back of the neck.

(A smile and a little (sincere) smirk)

Derek: You just washed your hair and you smelt like some kinda….flower.

(Meredith starts turning around to face Derek)

Derek: I was running late for Surgery. You said you were gonna see me later. Then you leaned into me; you put your hand on my chest…and you kissed me.

(He smiles)

Derek: Soft. It was quick. Kinda like a habit. You know, like we’d do it everyday for the rest of our lives? And you went back to reading the newspaper and I went to work. (And) that was the last time we kissed.

(Music starts playing. Derek opens the door and starts closing it on his way out)

Meredith: Lavender.

(Derek opens the door once again. Walks inside the door…)

Meredith: My hair smelt like lavender from my conditioner.

(Derek starts nodding his head as if he remembers it so distinctly)

Derek: Lavender? Hmm.

(He smiles. Turns round and walks out. Turns towards the glass front door one more time and smiles before walking off)

Scene ends with voice over as Meredith heads back upstairs…

"If you knew this was your last day on earth, how would you want to spend it…?"

Cut to credits…

It STILL remains the GREATEST date of my life...(concluded)

(Lyrics in green that appear throughout both blogs are by Josh Ritter from the song KATHLEEN)


The moment was like a scene from a movie.

The timing was right. The mood was warm and comfortable. Just right. So he leaned in and closed his eyes. He felt a warm pair of lips. Soft. Tender. Moist. Delightful. It was a kiss that nearly 2 years later, he still remembers fondly. Graciously. ‘Appetisingly’. Yearningly.

When their lips separated, it was as if everything was now that much easier in terms of conversation (more kissing that would follow…of course!) and the whole caressing of arms and legs and cheeks. It was nearly midnight and J K knew that he would have to go soon as Michelle had to be up for work in the morning. He mentioned that he had better go soon as he appreciated she needed to get some rest.

It was then that she said, “Would you like to stay the night? I can make up the spare bed for you?” It was a kind offer. For sure. However, J K thought that it would look better upon himself if he declined the offer on terms of being a mensch. He was grateful for the hour that he had spent with her in her flat and it was more than enough to last him for the trip back to Doncaster. 170 Miles North. He would remember the evening. Go over each minute like it was the most perfect evening of his life and he would have the Counting Crows as company in his car, playing through his Boston speakers. Yes indeed, he was happy to leave and not stay. It would be the best possible ending and he knew she would understand his wishes not to take her up on her kind offer.

So crawl up your trellis and quietly back into your room
And I’ll coast down the length of your drive
By the light of the moon

He asked if she would like to meet up once again? She sounded very positive and happy to do this. A time and a date would be discussed in the next few days. She walked him down to the ground floor where J K bid the night porter a pleasant night and he kissed her one last time before he climbed into his car. “Will you send me a text message when you arrive home?” she asked? I know it will be in the early hours of the morning but it would give me peace of mind if you did.” He duly agreed. And so he set off back home. Safe in the knowledge that he had probably had the best fucking date of his entire life!

Upon arrival and having walked through his front door a little over 3 hours later, he sent her a quick SMS and informed her that he had arrived safely.

The following day, they chatted online again. Both had enjoyed the evening…very much.

And then, well, unfortunately, it didn’t work out as J K was hoping for. A combination of factors including distance, I’m sure, but the truth of the matter was, Michelle wasn’t entirely ready for a relationship. She had some personal issues to come to terms with that J K couldn't help her with. He went to visit her once again in London but only got to see her for 2 or 3 hours due to her work commitments on most weekends. His friends and family told him to forget about his 'dream woman' as it was clear that he was the one doing all the chasing. There was only going to be one person who would be hurt and it certainly wasn't going to be Michelle. He couldn’t compete with her working hours and schedule and it got to the stage where seeing her online just became too hard to start having a conversation with her because he wanted more than anything in the world to see her again. And again. And again…

She went away on holiday for a week or two and he would wonder how she was and what she got up to. He would go to websites and type something in English and translate it into French and SMS her in the hope that she would appreciate his efforts in trying to ‘woo’ her over. But it never really worked.

Finally, he decided to put all his eggs in one basket and go for it…

He wrote her an e-mail. Part of it read…

So, Michelle. I have a question for you . . .

After all that we have spoken about on the phone after 'that' weekend and all that we agreed, I still think about you at times and whilst you were away on your jollies, having a ball of a time in Brazil, wondering how you were and that you were ok?

So . . .

Well . . .

What I'm kinda trying to say here is . . .

Oy vey

I'd like to see you again.

I'm on annual leave as of the 18th of this month for 2 weeks but still have some College Commitments, tho they finish on a Tuesday of each week.

I have no idea if you've possibly met someone since we last spoke on the phone so I'm putting my neck on the line by saying all of the next things...

But true romantics are few and far between these days, so I'm taking my chance(s). It's the bottom of the 9th, bases are loaded, Armando Benitez is lining up the pitch and Alex Rodriguez is stepping up to the plate. I'm Armando Benitez and I'm wanting to throw you down a kiss. A kiss, all of 200 miles away and I'm wanting to know if you, "Alex Rodriguez" (aka Michelle ;-) are gonna 'hit me back'? Are u gonna be 'struck out' or are you gonna send me my/a kiss back and ask to throw me another one from a few inches away rather than 200 miles, at present . . . ?

Of course I understand that you're busy but I'm still asking.

If your answer is in the negative then it's ok. At least I've asked...

She replied promptly…

Hey J K....

u wanna play a game of baseball then..lol....

Man... you are the sweetest man I have ever met... you really do make me laugh.

She went on to tell him that the timing just wasn't right. That she had some issues to deal with and he understood what she was trying to say. It simply wasn't meant to be.

It was minimal consolation, in truth. It was nice to finally know where he stood, but it sure as hell hurt all the same. And from then on, he had no choice but to try and get closure. So he blocked her from his Yahoo! Messenger and removed her name from his MSN Messenger as it was just too much to bear chatting with her online when every sinew of his body was crying out to see her once again. Kiss her. Hold her. Be with her.

And the next time I see you—a new kind of hello
Both our hearts have a secret only both of us know
‘Bout the night that I
Drove you back home Kathleen

Several months later she got in touch with him via MSN Messenger. She had moved to New York for a few months and had met someone. He was happy to hear from her and was pleased that she had finally met a guy. That was in 2004.

On the 3rd of January 2006, out of the blue, a message popped up on JK’s MSN Messenger. It read:

Happy New Year!!!

It was Michelle…

They chatted for a few minutes. Exchanged pleasantries.

how are the ladies treating you

He replied…

I went for a date with a Jewish lady in Uxbridge on Friday night. Wasn't meant to be.

Ok

Shame

It’s fine man, he replied

How are things with you?

Her response was

it's all good... finaly settling down with a young man I met a while ago and we just bought this place in Ealing.

Moments later, there was a knock on JK’s front door and a friend came round to visit. He said that he had to go. She wished him all the best for 2006 and that was the last time he heard from her.

EPILOGUE:

I think sometimes, in life, you meet a person and you experience a moment that remains etched into your memory. Forever. A story you’ll happily tell your grand children one day outside on the porch in your rocking chair with the sun setting behind you and the cool wind on your face. It’s a moment that you’ll remember. And you’ll cherish it because it was more than likely one of the happiest events in your whole life. And in years to come, you’ll undoubtedly reflect upon it and see the event with an open minded view. For me, it would be that much easier to come to terms with and be content with when I'm with another person. My soul mate. My future partner. I could look upon that evening and the weeks unfolding afterwards with more fondness and glee because I’ll be safe in the arms of a woman that I know loves me and wants to be with me. And so this is a chapter in my life. A book that at present has no epilogue for it is far from finished. There are still many more events in my life to unfold. Of this I am sure.

And it is with this thought that I (finally) say, "Thanks for the memories, Michelle…"

P.S. I wonder what Michelle would make of these 2 blogs...?

Peace!

J K

"Be"











“Be”

Just two letters:
A consonant and a vowel.

“Be”.

“Be” it wondrous and exciting. “Be” it unfortunate and unintentional.

It’s not always about the 5 year plan or the next step on the ladder to success. Where’s the point in putting all your eggs into one basket only to see it not materialise? Just “Be”.
“Be” there for your kid when they come home crying from a broken heart. “Be” there for your partner when they walk through the front door having had a bad day. “Be” there when your ageing parent wishes to tell you that they’re proud of you and for the person you’ve become.

“Be” a mensch and a humanitarian. “Be” a leader and a fair person.

I can’t advise you how to “Be” (I’m trying hard to find that out for myself). Remember that we’re not all the same and we all make mistakes. So make allowances for those you love and “Be” there when they need you (the most).

If you choose not to “Be” and regard all the above as nonsense; remember to turn the light off before you leave…

Peace!

JK

It STILL remains the GREATEST date of my life... (PART 1 of 2)


All the events and characters you are about to read DID happen. With two exceptions: (i) I cannot quite remember if it was the DAMIEN RICE CD which was playing in the background or indeed another artist & (ii) I have changed the original name of the characters in question...it's just easier this way.

A Jewish Fairy Tale From London . . .

(Open a new window. Click on http://www.myspace.com/joshritter ---- Look for the song KATHLEEN whilst reading this blog should it still be on his myspace site. Enjoy the story...)

All the other girls here are stars
You are the Northern Lights
They try to shine in through your curtains
You’re too close and too bright

Once upon a time there lived a Jewish man from Doncaster. He had met a Jewish woman who lived in London. Her name was Michelle. She was educated in Paris. She decided to move to London. The bright lights. The theatres. The countless bars and the unique English way of living, must have been very appealing . (The attraction of this diverse city often is...)

On one particular evening, they started chatting online. Oh, it was the usual polite conversation but it seemed to flow very well. Every so often they would log in, see each other online and start chatting. One particular afternoon, he happens to open The Sunday Times CULTURE Magazine & sees that his all time favourite band The Counting Crows are touring the UK. They were to play in Manchester as well as London. Having already traveled 1000’s of miles to Michigan State University (where he stayed in the women’s dorms for a week AND cheekily attended a Sociology lecture…sitting at the back of the class so as to remain ‘discreet’) to see them play, Manchester and London by car in the space of 3 days was not going to be an issue for him, thus. He would (and did) happily travel so many miles to see a band that had the biggest impact on his life and brought his soul to peace (and still does).

They try and they try but everything that they do
Is the ghost of a trace of a pale imitation of you
I’ll be the one to drive you back home Kathleen

“Hey, Michelle, I was wondering if you fancied seeing The Counting Crows next week Tuesday night?” (24th of January 2004, to be precise) ” She replied by enquiring, “Ok, but how would you get down to London?” He remarked, “By car. I’ll drive down. I’ll purchase the tickets online and meet you somewhere close to where you live”

This was a fine suggestion and she was happy to oblige him. “I have to work a little bit late so I’ll meet you in front of the steps of my apartment around 6pm. That ok with you?” she asked? It was a good suggestion.

On the way down to London, his thoughts had turned to the evening which was about to unfold. Was she attractive? He had had his doubts. He had seen a few pics of her online but no two pics ever look the same. Our faces somehow always look different in each picture.
He knew he was a handsome man, no matter what picture he had sent her ;-) , so the onus was on her to make the impression (and oh my goodness, did she ever . . . ?)

Having now got lost for the ‘umpteenth’ time in London, he finally found where she lived. He was early (for once). Was this the right place, he thought?? There was a night porter in front of the door and a very high-class set of flats rising upwards towards the night sky. It was at this moment that he began to panic a little bit. His palms began to feel a little sweaty and his heart started beating a bit faster than usual. From the corner of his eye, a tall, statuesque, dark haired figure of a woman could be made out, walking down the stairs. He got out of his car and walked towards the doors where she was waiting for him. She was busy looking inside her handbag for some keys and then she looked up…

This party is made with the night air and the chance that a smile
Will wind its way from your face to one of the boys in your line
You act like you’re hip to their tricks and you’re strong
But a virgin Wurlitzer heart never once had a song

She was breathtakingly gorgeous. The face of a princess. Elegant. Sophisticated. Well spoken and very polite. Being French, he remembered that they often kiss each other on each cheek when greeting one another which he (hesitantly) did. She was happy to oblige him. It had been a good introduction and his confidence was still in tact.

So far so good, he thought…

They caught a Taxi to the Hammersmith Apollo. Her mobile started ringing and she duly answered it. As she started talking in French, he couldn’t help but wonder how lucky he had been to be on such a date. To him, it was like a scene out of a Hollywood film and he was the lead actor. What would he tell his best friend Paul and his wife Mireille the following day??

A few minutes later she closed her clam shelled mobile phone and put it away. They made small talk. “How was your trip?” she asked. “Did you find parking ok?” she enquired. Moments later, they arrived at the theatre. He paid for the cab and they walked towards the entrance. Should he reach out and take her hand; be noble and a gentleman and escort her through the crowd of people, safely? He refrained. It wasn’t the right time. Too soon. Needed to get to know her better. Sometime later they made it to the door. He produced the tickets and before you could say, “Efrat, if you ever read this blog, you owe me a 175 mile (french) kiss...” they had walked through the doors.

I’ll be the one to drive you back home Kathleen
And i’ll have you back by break of day
I’m going your way anyway
And if you’d like to come along
I’ll be yours for a song

Some small talk once again, a round of drinks and they walked through the 2nd set of doors and into the main amphitheater. Now is the time to take her hand he thought. It’s now or never, J K, he thought. Seize the moment. Show her you’re a man and carry on walking whilst extending your hand behind you, hoping beyond hope that she takes hold of it…

And then she did…

A warm, soft hand with a reassuring grip held in his. His inner smile was like a radiant sunbeam. This beautiful woman (whom to him was so far out of his league) was holding his hand and he was leading her through the rather closely packed crowd of people. Having found a good spot to see Adam Duritz (Lead singer/songwriter of The Counting Crows) all that had to happen was for them to come out on stage and play his all time favourite Counting Crows song:

Mrs Potter’s Lullaby

But first there was the support band. Josh Ritter from Moscow, Idaho. The song J K had most wanted to hear him play was Kathleen. An achingly beautiful song about a man who longs to be with the woman who doesn’t know his true feelings for her. And when Ritter did play it, he did not disappoint. His dark blue suit and red tie and red sneakers a complete contradiction to the rest of his outfit. Approximately 40 minutes later, Josh Ritter had waved the crowd farewell and off he went, backstage.

15 Minutes later…

The stage lights dimmed. The curtains drew back. Duritz and the band walked onto the stage and as if by some magical, unexplainable occurrence, Adam started singing…

“Well, I woke up in mid afternoon
Coz that’s when it all hurts the most
I dream I never know anyone at the party
And I’m always the host
If dreams are like movies then memories are films about ghosts
You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast
Well I am an idiot walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame
If you've never stared off into the distance then your life is a shame
And though I'll never forget your face Sometimes I can't remember my name
Hey, Mrs. Potter, don't cry
Hey, Mrs. Potter, I know why
But, hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me”

Could this night get any better??

Oh yes…it certainly did...

During the 7th song of the evening, “Miami”, J K had sensed that the date was going well. Nice eye contact. Lots of smiles. Good body language. He decided to be a bit brave and gently swayed his hips and moved them into hers. Her reaction was one of a smile and a reassuring ‘bump’ in return, back onto his hips

And this sort of flirting continued throughout the concert. It was fantastic!

2 Encores later and the show now over, J K walked this French Princess towards the exit and out of the theatre. She had suggested taking the underground tube back to Kensington High Street and he duly obliged. “Do you mind if I put my arm around your waist? he enquired. “Not at all”, she replied. They walked to the underground station with his arm wrapped around her waist. Whilst waiting for the train to arrive, he received a text message from his colleague at work. It read…

“How’s the date going?” It read.

J K's response was, “Mate, it’s going very well. Gotta say that.”

The train soon arrived; they hopped on, had a chat about the concert and she then invited him up for a hot drink to which he duly obliged her (I mean, why stop a near perfect night so soon??)

When they opened her apartment door it was quite clear that it was very classy living conditions. A black silk bra was draped over the heater in the bathroom. She made them a cup of tea and opened a pack of tea biscuits. He dunked it into his cup and they proceeded to talk some more. She played him a Damien Rice CD and he felt that he had to kiss her. Having sex with her wasn’t on his agenda. Not at all! It was a kiss he was after. One, slow, long, wet, lingering kiss…

I know you are waiting and I know that it is not for me
But I’m here and I’m ready and I’ve saved you the passenger seat
I won’t be your last dance just your last goodnight
Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied
I’ll be the one to drive you back home Kathleen


“I thought I’d prepare you and let you know that in the next 20 seconds I’m going to lean over and kiss you”, he said. She was halfway through her sentence when she paused and looked at him. A smile appeared on her face and she replied, “What are you waiting for…”

To be continued...

The Jew and the Xmas Do

To avoid me getting my arse kicked or being sued for defamation of character, the names of the people within this blog have been changed. The blog itself is as accurate as my memory will allow

Last night I went out for a Xmas ‘do’ organised by a colleague of mine from the College. “All change, it’s a no go for Friday, but I can get us in on Saturday 17th December at 7.30 at Opera in Waterdale”, the e-mail read.

It was my intention to be there on time. A combination of factors involving chatting online to a young Israeli woman from London; not having shaved for several days & realising that I hadn’t as yet ironed my shirt (because I preferred chatting to the Israeli lady) prevented me from being punctual (nothing new there then…)

Furthermore, I have come to the realisation that shaving in the bath as a means of ‘killing two birds with one stone’ will eventually become as regular a routine for men who are late (or in a hurry) in the same way that women might be able to apply mascara to their eyelashes whilst texting (commonly known as multitasking) their best friend to enquire what colour eye shadow would go best with their new trendy shoes (purchased recently on sale from NEXT).

With the shaving and my bath now completed, the time was already 19h20. It would take me 10 minutes to drive to the restaurant; 1 minute to find a parking space and a further 2 minutes to walk to the Pay & Display meter and deposit £1.50 for 3 hours worth of free parking. Oi vai iz mir! Things weren’t looking good, dear reader. No sirree…

Looking trendy and close shaved with a thick leather jacket to protect me from the rather chilly conditions outside, I made my way to the car and arrived at the Restaurant (which I had actually walked straight past without realising it was there) exactly 11 Minutes late (the gods of the traffic lights had been very kind to me and saved me 2 whole minutes on my journey).

Upon arrival, the first thing I noticed when I walked through the door was that everyone’s faces were rather blurry. Confirmation then that my spectacles had steamed up and the dude with the decent looking threads on who wanted to make a good impression walking through the door had succeeded in not doing quite as such. Off to a good start then, huh...?

Having now been seated at our table, the 8 of us started to make small talk amongst one another. To my immediate left I had the good (mis)fortune of sitting next to Stewart. Stewart’s approximately 37 (which he technically classes as being middle aged if you take into account he might only live till he’s 70) & informs me he lives on his own. He doesn’t own a TV nor a Radio (though he has a multimedia projector & a huge projector screen on which he watches his favourite DvD’s and informs us all that he is on medication due to the fact that he has violent dreams which at times he lives out. “I once broke 2 of my toes coz I dreamt I was kicking this guy but in fact when I came to, I was kicking the bedroom wall” he went on to say. We asked him what he dreamt about the previous night to which he replied, “Genocide. And the other night I dreamt I was physically ripping people’s hearts out and biting their heads off”. Great, just what I needed…a fucking fruitcake…

To my right sat Claire. A really cool middle aged woman with a sincere disposition and always willing to talk or advise me when called upon. We spoke for a while about work issues including the relevance of old age pensioners learning Microsoft Access (Databases) on COMPUTERS FOR THE NOT SO TERRIFIED (Level 2). Once again, the conversation turned to Stewart…”So, what sort of music do you like? And please, pleeeeaaaassse don’t say the word, “Anything”. “Ok,” he replied. “Well, Schubert, Verdi, Mozart & Claudio Monteverdi”. “Hmmm” I said. "I’ve heard of most of them but not Claudio Mon…???” I asked Stewart if he was a modern composer to which he replied in the affirmative (1st bonus point). “Have you also heard of a guy called Arvo Pärt?”, I inquired. “Yes, I have. He’s good as well (2nd bonus point). “What about Bach?”, I inquired further. “Yes, I should’ve mentioned him as well (3rd bonus point). I also like John Barry”. “Wasn’t he the dude who wrote the music score for Dances With Wolves with Kevin Costner?” I inquired? His response was, “Yes (4th bonus point), I never actually saw the movie but I liked the soundtrack” he said.

Having now realised that I could move onto another subject, safe in the knowledge that I had made a good enough impression on Stewart (with 4 solid bonus points to my name), I would inquire about the next ‘safe’ subject to continue our conversation: Movies.

This question would follow after the first of many visits to the lavatory that night by Stewart.

And so the evening progressed. Stewart kept avoiding answering certain of my questions and instead started informing us that he allegedly has a girlfriend. That he allegedly owns his own little company producing prints for magazine and that he allegedly will be working at his office on Christmas day because it’s warmer than his house and “better than sitting at home, alone, all day” (with no TV or Radio) after visiting his mom.

And this was the way the rest of the evening unfolded:

The ecentric issues of Stewart and an 8 oz piece of sirloin that a coal miner from the Armthorpe coal mine would have been proud to have uncovered. I bid my farewells around 23h30 and headed home. Safe in the knowledge that a night at "The Opera" would no longer be mentioned until this time next year.

If I had a New Year's wish for anyone, it would be that Stewart's doctor increases the dosage of medication that allows him peaceful sleeps and not the suggestion that Stewart wishes to pursue which is to decrease the dosage bit by bit in order to feel 'normal' once again. Coz let's face facts here, folks...

Anyone who lives out genocide and holds a pounding heart in his hands is in dire need of a good woman.

And that's all I have to say about that...

Frustrated (UK) Jewish Singles

For those of you reading this column, hands up if you remember the movie SIX DAYS SEVEN NIGHTS with Anne Heche and Harrison Ford? If so, you might recall the scene where they’re flying through a thunderstorm and Harrison Ford turns to Anne Heche and says, “You know how a woman gets a man excited? She shows up. That's it. We're guys, we're easy.”

I’m that guy!

Whilst the opinions expressed in this column are purely mine, I have come to the following conclusion…

Our generation of Jewish singles are in trouble (of assimilating). And it’s not just in the UK.

We’re in ‘trouble’ because in conversation amongst ourselves we’re openly suggesting to look for Mr/Mrs Right outside our own faith. We’re fed up trying to meet the opposite sex’s expectations. Tired of trying to write the perfect essay online (yet again) to make the right impression that will catch the opposite sex’s eye so that he/she might want to get in touch and find out more about the other. Not willing to travel 2 hours to meet that special someone who could potentially be the one.

I emigrated from South Africa in 1994 and reside in Doncaster, South Yorkshire. I couldn’t afford the cost of living in London (or other big cities). 11 Years later I have my own house, a nice car; willing to relocate and I’m looking for my soul mate. My Jewish soul mate. I log in on JDate most days; start a conversation with a Jewish woman (a rather rare occurrence these days) and I can almost set my stopwatch for 5 minutes when I know the conversation will be over…

How come, you may ask?

I work for Royal Mail on the Nightshift. My official job title is that of a Postman (though I work in an Automated Processing Centre). Within a few minutes of starting up an Instant Message conversation with a Jewish woman, I am asked what I do for a living (naturally). Having given her an explanation, it’s not long before I read,” Look, I really have to go. Might catch you on here again sometime”. And the thing is, well, they rarely ever do. I’m seemingly judged on my career status (which equates to my income) and dismissed out of hand before they’ve even had a chance to ask me a meaningful question or for my opinion on any matter. I could put that I'm a part time Teacher/Tutor in I.T. but it's not my main source of income. I do this part time during the week and currently doing my Certificate in Education so as to eventually teach I.T. full time.

Whilst the reality of online dating means that a picture tells a thousand words, I am of the opinion that:

A lot of Jewish men seemingly want the best looking women to show off on their arm to friends and family and at dinner functions. In turn the Jewish women are looking for a man who has a healthy bank balance, drives a trendy car and she won’t have to go through too much hardship in her life because she’s financially secure with a partner who has drive, ambition and a good career. I asked a recently acquainted Jewish friend of mine in an SMS for her definition of the term ‘down to earth’.

Her reply was, “My definition is about being grounded and secure in myself. It’s REALLY knowing who I am; not judging people; being humanitarian and honest. It’s not being impressed by frills – it’s always the person that counts”.
I saved the SMS on my SIM card because I thought it quite profound.

On JDate, many men and women use the term ‘down to earth’ far too easily. I believe it’s disingenuous and untrue. Being down to earth suggests you’re as comfortable having a drink in a trendy bar as you are in Scawthorpe Workingman’s Club. It means that you’re able to hold a conversation with Tom Cruise just as easy as you are with Jenny, the grocery assistant at the local Co-Op. It means you look past the person’s personal circumstances and look for the person within.

We as Jews often use short words or phrases that have great meaning. I wish to conclude this column by quoting from an online website called Wikipedia :

MENSCH

Mensch (Yiddish מענטש; also mentsch, mentsh, mensh, or mench) is a German noun meaning a "human". In Yiddish (from which the word has migrated into American English), mensch roughly means "a good person". A mensch is a particularly good person, like "a stand-up guy," a person with the qualities one would hope for in a dear friend or trusted colleague.

I don’t want Tara Palmer Tomkinson. I’m just looking for a “stand up type of girl…”