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Musical Reflections on 2014

Posted on December 15, 2014 | Leave a comment

It’s been quite some year for gigs around here, especially over the last three months, as some of you may have noticed.

Last night marked the last gig in my 2014 calendar.

In an almost ritualistic manner, I boarded the train to Glasgow, chaperoned by Boy Child, to head off to the O2 ABC (yes- there again!) to see Rival Sons.

The mother in me scolded Boy Child for coming out without a jacket. Who in their right mind goes out in t-shirt and jeans in Scotland in December? Oh, that’ll be my son! Yes, I stood shaking my head in disbelief at his stupidity, as he stood shivering in the queue outside the venue. Muppet!

Rival Sons were fabulous. I had no pre-conceptions as to what they would be like live. I’d been warned that their front man’s voice was beginning to suffer a little as they are nearing the end of their tour. The extra huskiness was evident but, on occasion, seemed to enhance the performance. It was a fantastic show.

If you’ve never heard of this band from California check them out. If you listen to nothing else that they’ve done, look up “Where I’ve Been” and “Jordan” online. Stunning songs.

Like all good things, the show came to an end and we headed out of the venue into the cold and back towards the station, via KFC, in time to catch the last train home. And, yes, Boy Child was shivering again!

At the last count, I think, I’ve been to eleven gigs this year and seen about twenty five bands/artists. Not many by some die hard fans’ standards but no mean feat for me.

Highs and lows then of the 2014 Gig Year? …. Ask me an easy one!

The highs have to be the two Slash shows. After waiting for twenty seven years to see him play live, to now have seen him play twice within a month is a dream come true (as I’ve blogged previously). You just can’t beat standing in that confetti shower while “Paradise City” plays!

The lows came at the first Slash show at the O2 Academy. Being swept off my feet and feeling flung about like a rag doll during the opening three numbers of Biffy Clyro’s set that night was far from enjoyable. Yes, I’ll admit to being too old for that carry on! Getting doused in a cup full of piss later on in the evening was simply disgusting. I get that folk need to pee during a gig, especially after a few beers. I get that some guys are too lazy to make it to the men’s room and choose to relieve themselves into their empty beer cups but what lowlifes then feel the need to fling the full cup into the crowd? It’s beyond revolting. (rant over)

A major high point of the year was taking my baby girl to her first gig. Watching her lap it all up and seeing the look on her face as Halestorm took to the stage was a beautiful sight.(Yes, it was the O2 ABC again) Precious memories. Move on a few months, and seeing her relaxed, happy and smiling in the company of The Conspirators back stage at the Hydro made my heart sing. In fact, seeing both my munchkins (and FB Son) behave impeccably while meeting The Conspirators and Myles Kennedy made me feel very proud to be their mum.

A few friends have shared this year’s musical journey with me and there are numerous memories from these shows that are special. I have to say though that the look on one particular friend’s face after seeing Airbourne play live, and their immediate reaction, was priceless and the memory of it still makes me giggle.

I’ve met some wonderful people through music this year. I’ve made a few friends along the way and yes, been fortunate enough to meet a few very talented musicians. Again, more memories that are oh so very special!

So, when does Rock Mum come back out to play? Not until mid-February next year – and, yes, it’s at the O2 ABC again! Oh, it seems a very LONG way away right now!

Before then though another persona is set to emerge at the end of January – Rock Wife.

The Big Green Gummi Bear’s going to a gig! It will be his first this century. In fact, the first this millennium!

The venue this time? Where else but the O2 ABC!

I can’t wait to see how that one pans out!

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A Green Triangle To Paradise City – dreams do come true!

Posted on December 9, 2014 | 1 comment

I’ve sat down several times over the past few days to pen this blog. The end result has been the same every time. As soon as I start to write, a smile creeps across my lips and all coherent thoughts vanish in a cloud of twinkly stars.

For several months, Thursday 4 Dec has been marked on my calendar- Slash featuring Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators (aka SMK&C) at the Hydro Glasgow. When the tickets were purchased, this show was scheduled to make the dream of finally seeing Slash play live come true. That dream magically became a reality on Nov 7th as I’ve blogged previously. Last Thursday, however, turned into a completely magical “once-in-a lifetime” experience.

Through the wonders of rock music and social media interaction, I’ve become friends with a lady from Indiana, USA. Over the past few months, we’ve chatted online and the friendship has grown. To cut a very long story, that is her’s to tell, short- HINT HINT about that journal, young lady!- the final stop on her European Tour 2014 was also to be the Hydro on Dec 4th. Finally, I was going to get the opportunity to meet my FB friend face-to-face!

There had been whispers of promises of great things for the evening that I hadn’t dared to get my hopes up about. Mid-afternoon, she confirmed she had a treat in store for us.

Chaperoned by my usual teenage minders – Boy Child, Girl Child and FB Son (Boy Child’s friend) – plus one of my Rock Chick friends, this Rock Mum headed out to play.

One minor issue – how do you find someone that you’ve never met in a crowd of circa 10 000? Easily as it turns out!

As we queued to gain entry to the arena’s bowl, I spotted her coming through the main door, looking all round her. Waving and calling out her name, I caught her attention and she came rushing over to greet us. With the hugs and introductions complete, she opened an envelope and passed me five green triangular stickers – one for each of us. Clearly written across the sticker it said   “Slash Aftershow TDK”!

With arrangements made as to where to meet after the show, we all headed into the arena. It was the rock show to end all rock shows! Despite sound quality issues the first support act, Twenty Two Hundred, did a stellar job in front of quite a small crowd for such a big room. As the rock fans piled in, the second band of the evening took to the stage. This was Glenn Hughes’ new band California Breed. He may be over sixty now but boy can that guy sing! Fabulous set! With the crowd roused to the brink of ecstasy, California Breed left the stage.

Shortly before nine, the house lights dimmed and the creepy clown freak show music began to filter out signalling the imminent arrival of SMK&C. For two hours, SMK&C ruled the stage and commanded the Glasgow crowd. The set ran to some twenty one songs and was a fantastic mix of new and old SMK&C material, classic Guns N Roses and a sprinkling of Velvet Revolver. They played almost all of my personal favourites. Throughout the entire set, I drank in every note, watched every movement and, to be honest, was completely and utterly mesmerised.

The band had a treat in store for the Scottish fans. At the start of their encore, they welcomed Glenn Hughes and Andrew Watt out on stage and played a fantastic rendition of the Deep Purple classic “Burn.” An incredible sight to behold!

As the confetti rained down (guess who forgot to close over her handbag- oops!) during the show closer “Paradise City”, I could feel my nervous excitement mounting.

If watching these guys rule the stage wasn’t enough of a dream-come-true moment, part two was about to commence.

As the rest of the audience trooped happily towards the exits, with trembling hands, we applied our magical “green triangles” to our shirts. Along with a couple of dozen other lucky fans, we were ushered through a door beside the stage and along a maze of backstage corridors into a very basic room, littered with tables and chairs and instructed to wait. While we waited, we all began to chat, introducing ourselves and forming friendships. After about an hour, the door opened and The Conspirators came quietly into the room. Well, two of them did. One definitely failed to slip in unnoticed! It was bassist Todd Dammit Kerns’ birthday and his arrival was met with a loud chorus of “Happy Birthday” that he lapped up with a huge grin.

The next forty five minutes were magically surreal. Even now, five days later, I have to pinch myself and look at the photos (any excuse!) to remind myself it actually happened. The content of our conversations will remain private as these few moments are treasured memories. I became a very proud Rock Mum as Boy Child and Girl Child politely chatted with these rock stars, neither of them the least bit fazed. Much to my great surprise, it was Rock Chick friend who was a tad shy and star struck – meeting Todd Kerns left her completely tongue tied!

I surprised myself, if I’m being honest. I joked and chatted to Todd Kerns, then with Frank Sidoris, who was particularly sweet with the kids, then Brent Fitz, who laughed when I confessed to having zero sense of rhythm. In some respects, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be doing late on a Thursday night/early Friday morning. In others, it was the most unbelievable few minutes.

The icing on the cake was still to come.

The door opened and a fourth rock star crept quietly into the room, all bundled up in hat, scarf and jacket in readiness for the cold December night air that awaited them all.

It was Myles Kennedy.

Yes, I met Myles! Yes, I spoke to Myles and even managed a brief but sensible conversation with him. Yes, I got my photo taken with him and got a hug into the bargain. Yes, it actually happened! Dream come true!

As the guys were ushered out to the waiting tour bus, I watched them depart, already thinking – did I just dream that?

There’s photos to prove that I didn’t!

I can’t find words to describe how grateful I am for the kindness and friendship shown to us by one wonderful lady from Indiana. If ever there was someone who truly lives the “pay-it-forward” ethos, it is this larger than life rock fan. She is an inspiration!

Thanks to her, many of us around the world have memories to treasure for a lifetime.

I’ve teased her relentlessly on FB over her dedication and devotion to SMK&C, particularly Todd Kerns, calling her their “Rock Mama”.

Last Thursday night, she was everyone’s Rock Mama and, I’m pretty sure I speak for all of us who were given the gift of a magical “green triangle”, when I say a HUGE thank you to the one and only, Janette Martin.

Rock Mama, you took us all to Paradise City!

SMK&C blog collage

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What A Difference A Year Can Make

Posted on December 1, 2014 | Leave a comment

It’s December again – how did that happen? Wasn’t Christmas just the other week? Scary how fast this year has gone.

Despite the wave of panic that is rising at the thought of Christmas being just over three weeks away, I took a moment or two to reflect this week.

In 2012, I sat myself down, did a lot of soul searching and gave myself a stern talking to. It was time to find something to do just for me; something to restore my self-belief. (It had taken a bit of a pounding.) It was time to find a creative outlet. After a lot of thought, I chose to complete a photographic challenge. During 2013, I took one photo for every day of the year, trying to ensure that it reflected something pertinent about the day. The photos were posted in an album on my Facebook wall and I was blown away by the number of friends who commented on and liked the results. Completing it gave me a tremendous sense of achievement and went some ways to restoring my self-confidence.

For 2014’s challenge, I deliberated long and hard. In the back of my mind there was a longer term goal beginning to form. I decided to use 2014 to overcome a major hurdle that lay in the way of that goal.

I had to overcome the fear of letting people read what I write.

As an aspiring writer, it is a crippling fear to have.

Starting this blog, as a means to overcome my fears, seemed like the logical creative challenge for the year ahead. The exact challenge I set myself was to complete and publish one blog post per week. (This will be blog post number fifty nine so I’ve exceeded my target.)

Little did I know how things would turn out.

During January and into February, I felt physically sick with nerves every time I hit “publish” on the screen. Gradually, however, it got easier. I began to add some poems onto my blog page, some as part of that week’s post.

While sitting in the car, in the dark, outside the high school, waiting for Boy Child to finish band practice, I wrote a short story called “The Imp” and posted it to my blog. Originally it was meant to be one short story but the interest it sparked among friends amazed me and The Imp’s tale was spun out to nine parts (and isn’t finished yet – I promise he will be back next year.)

In April, I answered a friend’s plea for assistance and wrote my first music review. I’ve just counted and, to date, I’ve written thirty one reviews for http://www.phoenixmusiconline.org  including reviews of five live shows, with more in the pipeline.

Music has played an enormous part in my life this year –much to the despair of The Big Green Gummi Bear, who doesn’t share my musical tastes. I’ve been fortunate enough to go to several gigs, with another two still to go before Christmas, that have inspired blog posts and reviews. Through the music review bit, I’ve also been lucky enough to befriend two up-and-coming bands – one from the USA and one from Australia. I’m looking forward to following both bands’ careers as they continue towards mega-stardom and headline appearances and to reviewing their future releases and shows.

Mid-year, music, or my love of one particular artist, led to another opportunity to exercise my creative side when I was asked to help admin a Facebook fan page for a couple of weeks while the two regular admins took a holiday. For one reason or another, six months down the line, I’m still happily helping out and loving every minute of it. This has also led me to make several new “FB friends” from around the world, some of whom I hope to meet later this week.

So, here we are, almost at the end of 2014, and looking forward to 2015’s challenge.

I hinted earlier that there was a longer term goal in mind when I began this blog and 2015’s challenge will be to turn that dream into reality.

In May 2013, I began the first draft of what will become my first novel. (There, I’ve finally said it!) I’m a bit old-fashioned and prefer to write long-hand for my first drafts then type the piece up as a first re-draft. So, while I’ve been doing all the other things I’ve just told you about (plus the normal day-to-day things like going to work and running the household) I’ve typed up the first draft and am part way through the re-drafting and editing process, with the help of several wonderful, dedicated friends. Without these guys, I would’ve long since lost the will to live over the enormity of the whole project. (From the bottom of my heart, I thank each of you for all the support, encouragement and feedback you’ve given me so far.)

The challenge for 2015, with the help of these beautiful people, and a couple of others, who are still to be drafted in and don’t know it yet, is to get my book published.

I think, I might have finally conquered my fear of letting people read what I write so 2014’s challenge can be deemed a success on that score. The blog and reviews and all the other mischief, including the occasional photography foray, will keep going  into next year and beyond, I hope.

Now Christmas beckons…guess I’d better turn my attention to that for a short while. Time to write a list!

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To Go Or Not To Go? – There She Goes Again!

Posted on November 24, 2014 | Leave a comment

To go or not to go – that was the question trundling through my head at the start of last week.

None of my usual partners in crime were showing the slightest sniff of interest.

If I went, I’d have to go alone. Was that even “normal”? (That particular thought lasted a split second as normal doesn’t usually apply!)

Logic – if I didn’t go then I would spend Thursday evening sulking and wishing I had. If I did go and it didn’t turn out too well then I’d wasted my money and given my detractors ammunition to last until Christmas.

Well, you only live once. So I decided to go!

Those of you who have been following my posts should’ve figured out by now where this is heading.

The cause of my great deliberation was, of course, another gig. This time it was The Quireboys 30th Anniversary gig at The Garage, Glasgow.

I loved their first album – still do – and have loved their last two but I have never seen them live. The latest CD came with a live CD and a DVD. Both of these are great but did leave me slightly concerned that this 30th Anniversary tour may involve just too much beer, if you catch my drift.

At the end of the day, there was only one way to find out. Cue another log in to Ticketmaster and Hey Presto once more I held a concert ticket in my hands.

This was going to be a first on two levels. First Quireboys show but also the first gig I’d gone to on my own – unchaperoned!

As I boarded the train, I have to admit it felt a little odd heading off into the darkness without at least one of my usual chaperones. Being the creature of habit that I am, once off the train, I set off in search of caffeine to fuel me for the evening. Sitting in iCafe on Sauchiehall St on my own, I watched the world go by as I topped up my caffeine levels. It was beautifully peaceful and relaxed.

Outside the venue, shortly before seven, I joined the end of the short queue that had formed. There were a couple of familiar faces ahead of me that I recognised from other recent gigs. Once inside, and after a quick stop at the merchandising stall to purchase the obligatory t-shirt (slightly disappointed at the lack of choice and that the only shirt on sale didn’t have the tour dates on the back), I headed into the hall and wandered leisurely up to the barrier. Standing there with no concert buddy beside me felt weird but then the first band stepped out on stage and all thoughts of being unchaperoned vanished. I was soon lost in the brilliant opening set by Irish band Preachers Son- highly recommend them!

Behind me the hall was filling up nicely.

The Vargas Blues Band were on next and I have to slip into “girlie mode” for a moment. I’d kill for their lead singer’s hair! Long thick blonde curls. Why do the guys always get the best hair? He was a blur of hair for most of their set as he lost himself in their music and danced in his own hair encased world. Another really great band worth checking out.

By the end of their set, the hall was suitably filled. It wasn’t getting any warmer, mind you! The hall was decidedly chilly- another first for a gig!

As the earlier caffeine had worked its way through the system, I abandoned my barrier position and made my way through the crowd to the ladies room, bumping into two colleagues from work en route. Surprisingly, I was able to return to my previous vantage point with no problems. Now, however, there was a familiar face standing behind me. A FB friend and Scotland’s biggest Massive fan had arrived with his friend. It was great to meet them both and to have some company for The Quireboys set.

Shortly before nine The Quireboys took to the stage. And so began an hour and three quarters of good fun RnFnR J

Yes, Spike had his pint of beer to hand on occasion but, from the spark of mischief in his eyes, he was having as much fun as the crowd were. He sang. We sang. He forgot the lyrics at one point. We sang the correct lyrics back – much to his great amusement.

Hearing “7 O’clock” round off their main set made me regret never having been to a Quireboys show before.

Their encore ended with a rousing rendition of “Sex Party” and, with an anxious glance at my watch, I realised I was tight for time to get back to the station to catch the train home. With a hurried farewell to my fellow Massive fan, I shot off through the crowd and into the night. (Not quite Cinderella trying to beat the stroke of midnight as I kept both Converse on but you get the picture!)

With my mother’s words of warning about staying away from dimly lit streets and not talking to strangers echoing through my head, I trotted briskly back to the sanctuary of the Central Station, catching the train home with time to spare to buy a much needed bottle of water and a cereal bar aka dinner.

As I sat on the train flicking through the photos from the evening, I reflected on my deliberations of earlier in the week.

To go or not to go? Hell, yes! And I can’t wait to go back again when they return next year!

Quireboys collage

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Lost Socks Looking for Sole Mates

Posted on November 17, 2014 | 1 comment

images

I’ll confess to being ever so slightly OCD about certain things. One of these is the washing – or laundry, if you prefer.

When hanging up wet clothes to dry, whether outdoors on the clothes line or indoors on the clothes drier, radiator or pulley, there is one absolute must. The be all and end off of “washing etiquette”. Socks MUST be hung in pairs.

On the rare occasion that a member of the household assists by hanging up the washing and doesn’t hang the socks in pairs, I can feel myself twitching to fix them. In fact, I have actually been known to re-hang whole loads of washing if they haven’t been hung up to my standards. Crazy, I know.

Girl Child seems to be on a lifelong mission to tip me over the edge when it comes to many things – particularly socks.

For as long as I can remember, she has been a total nightmare with socks. As a baby/toddler, she would haul them off at the first opportunity and hurl them from the pram. Once she got a bit older, she would pull them off and run barefoot until I caught up with her. As she grew older, she developed a new bad habit- one that is still continuing.

She will go to bed wearing her socks (sometimes multiple pairs) then kick them off in her sleep as she becomes too hot. The result here is, of course, a sock graveyard at the foot of the bed.

This is almost bearable as long as the pairs find their way in to the laundry basket.

The occasional odd sock I can deal with- as long as I take slow deep breaths and its mate turns up in the next load of washing.

Last week Girl Child went one step too far. As I hung up the socks, I had not one or two odd socks– not even three. Six!

Six odd socks had come out of one load of washing and were all hers!

An immediate sock hunt ensued in her “bat cave”. More socks were located, lurking under the duvet and cowering on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The next load of laundry resulted in three sock reunions (I love a happy ending).I was almost breathing easily again.

Now, however, several loads later, I still have three sock “orphans”.

Does anyone want to adopt?

images7BBS21EG

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The Night That Was Meant To Be

Posted on November 13, 2014 | 6 comments

Ever get the feeling that some things are just meant to be? Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s luck.

A few months back I secured tickets to a concert that I felt sure was going to be “the one” that would realise a lifelong dream for me. (Well, twenty seven years long to be exact so not quite lifelong)

I was wrong.

A little over two weeks ago, a show was announced that was to be held in a small Glasgow venue on 7th November and would be for fans only. Pre-registration via the artist’s website was required in order to qualify for a code that would then allow you to attempt to purchase a maximum of two tickets. In my excitement and haste, I screwed up my registration. I realised my error less than thirty minutes before registration closed. Too late.

The lack of an email landing with a mythical code confirmed my error.

Gutted doesn’t begin to cover it.

Tickets went on sale the next day at 10am. From reports online there were technical glitches with the codes and subsequent sales. Lacking the necessary code I could only sit back and watch my fellow fans try to secure their golden tickets.

Ok , let’s be honest here, I sat back and sulked quietly, trying to console myself that I would get to realise the dream on 4th Dec.

Tickets were duly snapped up and I genuinely thought that was an end to it.

A glimmer of hope emerged around Tuesday lunchtime when a fellow fan hooked me up with another fan who had details of an unused code. There were rumours of balcony seats still being available. However, despite my best efforts online and via phone, I failed to secure tickets.

Gutted for a second time in five days.

Still sulking (big time by now) I was watching TV on Tuesday night, idly playing around on social media on my phone. A post by the artist caught my eye. There were limited tickets left! All I had to do was email the address quoted in the post. You’ve never seen an email sent so fast in your life!

Lady Luck was smiling on me and within ten minutes, amidst much screaming for joy, I held two tickets for the 7th November show in my trembling hands.

All day Wednesday and Thursday and Friday, I silently fretted that perhaps it had been a hoax. Worried that the tickets were fake and I’d been de-frauded out of my £20 and my credit card details. (Blame the paranoia on all the years spent working in a fraud team)

Even on the Friday evening on the train, chaperoned by Boy Child, I was doubting that this was real.

As I stood in the lengthening queue outside the venue, watching Boy Child chitter with cold in his t-shirt and jeans (yes, bad rock mum let him out without a jacket), I doubted that it was really real.

It was only once we’d cleared security (Boy was it tight!), entered the hall and I was standing in front of the merchandising stall that I allowed myself to believe that it might actually be happening.

Lady Luck was still keeping an eye on me as we took our places, two rows off the barrier slightly to the left of centre stage. Almost my ideal spot in the hall.

So who was I there to see? Who had I waited all these years to see play live?

The one and only – Slash.

Ever since I bought “Appetite For Destruction” on vinyl when it was first released, I’ve wanted to see him in concert.

I guess everything does come to she who waits. And, in true recent concert going for, shows are like buses – two have come along at once!

After a fabulous ninety minute set from Scottish rock band Biffy Clyro, which literally saw me swept off my feet by the crush in the crowd, my dream was only thirty short minutes away.

Boy Child had his eyes set on the mayhem that lies in front of centre stage and, with my nervous blessing, disappeared off into the crowd in the hope of finding a mosh pit. He did.

Standing in front of me was a young man in a checked shirt, who turned round and said, “If I stand here you’re not going to be able to see, are you?”

My reply was, “No and I’ve waited twenty seven years to see this guy live.”

His face was a picture and, in the perfect act of chivalry, he gave up his spot for me. Thank you, young sir!

Now I was one row off the barrier with a perfect view of the stage.

A creepy freak show intro played, closely followed by a blaze of lights, then there he was. Dream come true – Slash was on stage in full view playing “You’re A Lie”.

And the icing on the cake was that Myles Kennedy was out on stage doing the vocal chores! The cherries on this particular “rock” cake were, of course, the Conspirators themselves – Todd Kerns, Frank Sidoris and Brent Fitz.

For ninety minutes, I was held utterly spellbound as my dream became a beautiful reality. The mother in me did start to fret a little as the crowd surfing began and, with my heart in my mouth, I watched for Boy Child appearing over the crowd. Whew!-he didn’t…this time.

Hearing “Sweet Child O’ Mine” played live for the first time was incredible. A moment that will live with me for a long time. That song is possibly my all-time favourite song). Seeing Slash coax his numerous solos out of his guitar was stunning. Watching Myles strut his stuff alongside the super talented Conspirators was breath taking.

Only as the show came to a close with the wonderful “Paradise City” and I, along with everyone and everything in the building, was showered in confetti did I truly believe that all around me was real.

The dream had come true.

And, to return to the cake analogy, this rock chick is allowed, on this one occasion, to have her cake and eat it, as I am now counting down the days until 4th December when I get to live the dream all over again.

Some nights are just meant to be.

SMKC collage

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A Mad Mental Musical Cultural Week in October

Posted on November 6, 2014 | Leave a comment

If you’ve been reading my weekly posts of late you’ll know that “Rock Mum” has been out to play once or twice.

Well, last week, she escaped several times to attend some quite diverse musical events.

I’ve been looking at the last week of October in my diary with a mix of eager anticipation and silent dread for several months. How would I make it from Saturday to Friday in one piece?

Ok, I’ll start at the beginning –

Saturday 25 October – up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight from Glasgow to London, Heathrow for a day out with the Big Green Gummi Bear. He had bought me tickets to the West End musical Miss Saigon for my birthday back in June. Secret confession – I love musicals! I’ve been desperate to see Miss Saigon for a long time. We arrived in London to a beautiful autumn day – a total contrast to the cold wet windy day we had left in Glasgow. By now it was late morning, so we enjoyed a leisurely stroll through Hyde Park, Mayfair, down Regent Street and eventually made our way to SoHo and theatre land. I say leisurely – the Big Green Gummi Bear does not know how to take a leisurely stroll. Military style route march is closer to the truth! (Only kidding, darling).Our tickets were for the matinee, so after a well-earned caffeine fix and a bun, we walked round to the Prince Edward theatre. I’ll not give away any spoilers regarding the show in case you haven’t seen it and want to. It was fantastic! The performance was breath-taking and emotional. By the closing scenes, the tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. A rapturous standing ovation. Loved it! Cue return route march to Paddington then on to Heathrow airport for dinner, some vino and our return flight home. Fabulous day! Thank you, Big Green Gummi Bear.

London Collage

Sunday 26 October- another eagerly awaited event was upon me. This time it was Black Stone Cherry, a rock band from Edmonton, Kentucky, at the SSE Hydro in Glasgow. Yes, Rock Mum and Rock Friend was out to play! Having rounded everyone up, we headed off into the rainy dark night towards Glasgow. (Huge thanks to my friend who drove us there and sincere apologies again for the contraband Mars Bar that was left in the car) Among the group (there were seven of us) we had a “Rock Concert Virgin”. Lady Luck was shining on us and we managed to secure a good spot in the standing arena near to the front of the stage. The four older teenagers escaped into the centre, hoping for and ultimately finding, a mosh pit or two. Yes, Rock Mum’s heart was in her mouth as she silently fretted over Boy Child’s safety. (He eventually emerged slightly damaged around the shoulder area) Black Stone Cherry were supported by Theory of a Deadman and Aussie rockers Airbourne. Quite a diverse choice of support bands but both excellent. I had thought that I’d prefer Theory of a Deadman but Airbourne were great fun- total RnFnR! After their set, I turned to the “Rock Concert Virgin” to ask what they’d thought. “That guy’s fucking mental,” came the immediate reply. Comment of the night! Black Stone Cherry were fabulous and it was a privilege to be there to enjoy their first ever UK arena outing. They played a blinding set that included all my favourites. “Hollywood In Kentucky” played live was every bit as good if not better than I had hoped it would be. I loved Ben Wells’s hat! The night ended with the Glasgow choir helping front man Chris Robertson with “Peace Is Free”. An awesome gig to lose your concert virginity at! Hurry back, boys! Missing y’all already!

BSC collage

Monday 27 October- almost glad to be at work! The day was powered by caffeine and magic beans!

Tuesday 28 October – a half day at the salt mine then out to play again at night as Rock Mum and Rock Friend. This was not my gig of choice I hasten to add. Girl Child had pleaded to be taken so, in good Rock Mum fashion, I agreed. I must be insane! Accompanied by a close friend and her teenage daughter (another concert virgin), we headed back to Glasgow to a small city centre venue called The Garage. And the headline act this time? – post hardcore heavy metal band Escape The Fate. One look at the crowd and I could tell we were in for a rowdy night! A couple of songs into the first support band, New Year’s Day’s set and the girl children bailed out to the far side of the room. Both in agreement that this was not the place to be seen with their Rock Mum’s. Their loss! Trying not to panic about the girls’ whereabouts as the circle pit opened and closed repeatedly, my friend and I genuinely enjoyed the gig. All three bands (second on the bill were Glamour of the Kill) were brilliant. Not my music genre of choice, a bit too heavy for me, and I’ll never be a fan of growling but a great and memorable evening all round!

ETF collage

Wednesday 29 October- a muffled day at work as I was deaf as a post! My ears rang and hissed merrily til bedtime. Another day highly caffeine fuelled with the additional support of multiple handfuls of magic beans.

Thursday 30 October- final outing of the week! This time it was neither Rock Mum nor Rock Friend who went out to play. Instead it was Proud Mum. Accompanied by my folks (Parents 1&2) and the same friend from Tuesday night, we headed along to the school for the annual Jazz Night. Watching Boy Child playing his trumpet with the Jazz Band and playing his solos with confidence made me glow with pride. Jazz certainly is not my favourite genre of music but it was a fabulously entertaining evening as staff and pupils shared the stage. Jethro Tull will never be the same again after a memorable performance by one music teacher. Loved it!

Friday 31 October – I’d survived! Four nights out in six days and I was still standing.

West End musical, rock, metal, jazz – I’d seen and done it all and loved every note of it!

Suddenly a Halloween sleepover for half a dozen fancy dressed teenage girls seemed like it was going to be a walk in the park….. but that’s perhaps a story for another day. My poor Boy Child may never be the same again!

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Silently Watching After Dark

Posted on November 3, 2014 | 1 comment

I’ll start with an apology – the last week around here has been ridiculously busy and I haven’t had time to write my usual blog. I will endeavour to post something mid week .

What I have written though is a short story. A bit of dark fun and a follow up to my earlier dark angel tale, Silently Watching.

So fetch yourself a coffee and enjoy!

Silently Watching After Dark

As the last colours of a stunning October sunset faded and the full moon began to rise, she sat on the moss covered dry stane wall hidden from the world by the overhanging branches. Silently she watched the cars whizz by, their exhaust fumes masking the tantalising smells of the rich variety of warm metallic blood of the drivers. Deep within her she could feel her hunger stirring. It had been too long since she had last fed on human blood. Sheep and deer were all very sweet but they never satiated her thirst. Crossing her long slender legs, she sighed and continued to watch and wait.

Two miles to the south west of where she sat, one of her potential victims was preparing to go for a run before enjoying a late dinner. Unbeknown to him, the dark angel had been silently watching him for months, stalking her prey but biding her time until the conditions and her desires were aligned. It had been a long dull day in the office and, having had no opportunity to grab some fresh air at lunchtime, he was impatient to get outside.

Lifting his iPod and beanie from the arm of the couch, he called out, “Will be back in about an hour,” then he was gone out into the chill dark evening air.

Two miles east of where the angel waited, another potential victim was throwing on his training gear, muttering sourly under his breath. It had been a lousy day from start to finish. The trains to Glasgow had been messed up in the morning, causing him to be late for work. They had still been running late when he arrived back at the station shortly after five o’clock, killing all hopes of getting the early “fast” train. When he had finally arrived back at his car and driven to the gym, the gym car park had been full. He hated to run outdoors in the dark but he had a schedule to adhere to. Now, as he yanked the laces of his trainers tight, he was silently cursing the cold autumn weather.

“I might be back,” he growled as he left the house, slamming the front door behind him.

From her perch on the wall, the angel picked up on the scents of both runners as they approached her. The younger one, approaching from her right, was moving swiftly, light on his feet and teasing her senses with the richness of the blood pulsing in his arteries; the older man ran with a far heavier tread but he too was approaching at a steady pace. She could almost taste his blood on her lips. It may be older but there was something ambrosial about it. With one graceful movement she was standing on top of the wall, sniffing the air around her. After a few moments deliberation, she decided to investigate both potential victims before choosing her moment to dine.

One of them was going to satiate her hunger before the moon had fully risen in the cloudless night sky.

With two strong beats of her powerful black wings, she soared over the trees and followed the treeline in search of the older man. She spotted him easily, his bald head glinting in the moonlight. Circling round behind him, high above and hidden by shadows from the cliff face opposite, she drank in the smells of his body – his exotic metallic blood musk mixed with sweat. Running her tongue over her fangs, she hung in the air for a few seconds watching and fantasising.

Soundlessly she glided high above him, following the winding trail of the pavement as it passed the popular beach picnic spot until she spied her other potential victim. He was completely focussed on his run, oblivious to the world around him. Risking being seen, the angel dropped down to earth among the cluster of pine trees opposite the garden centre. As he ran past, she drank in his rich sweet scent and sighed. Her senses finely tuned, she could hear the music that was blasting into his ears. She listened to the song for a moment or two before stepping back further into the trees.

Out on the pavement the two men were in sight of each other. A fact unknown to their silent witness was that they knew each other. As they ran past each other, they called out a friendly greeting and promised to watch out for each other on the return leg of their run.

When the older athlete drew level with the stand of trees, the angel made her decision. Hunger burning deep within her, she let out a low hiss before taking flight to pursue her meal. Just a little more patience and she would reap her reward. She knew the perfect spot to attack. There was an incline just beyond the old gamekeeper’s lodge, unlit by street lights. For a few yards she would be totally concealed by darkness.

Taking up her chosen position, she watched the pavement in silence, listening for the laboured breathing and sniffing the air for hints of the distinctive scent.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The steady rhythm of her chosen runner echoed through the night.

Fangs bared, wings spread out majestically, the angel stepped out from the shadows. Her bite was deep and deadly as she ripped out the man’s throat, rendering it impossible for him to scream for help. Wrapping her wings round him, she crushed his thrashing limbs as she drank slowly of his rich warm blood. Its strong ferrous taste teased her own taste buds. This was not a kill to be hurried; this was a banquet to be savoured. As she feasted, his struggle ceased then he hung limp in her deadly embrace. Greedily she drained the last drops of blood from his veins before it grew cold, his life force now spent. As the fresh blood pulsed through her, the fallen angel became aware of the other runner’s footfall approaching.

Time had run away from her in her greed. With her fangs still dripping, she scooped up the lifeless, drained corpse and soared into the night sky. Gently beating her wings, she floated high over the pavement as the other man ran along the road beneath her.

Again, as before, she could hear the music he was listening to. It was a song she had heard him listen to before, “Watch Over You.”

“Oh, I’ll watch over you,” she thought as she dropped down onto the road a few yards behind him.

With a final glance down at the drained body in her arms, she displayed a rare tenderness. The dark angel kissed his cheek before dropping his corpse into the pile of dry leaves that was banked against the dry stane wall. As she beat her wings and soared up into the night sky, the draft blew a covering of leaves over the man, leaving only his hand uncovered.

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Angel Readings In The Peat Smoke

Posted on October 27, 2014 | 1 comment

As it’s almost Halloween I thought I’d share a slightly spooky tale with you. There’s more than hint of the truth and actual events in this one. Enjoy

Angel Readings In The Peat Smoke

From the music and laughter echoing out of the front room as we approached the front door, my friend’s “At Home Hen Party” was already in full swing. Beside me on the doorstep my young daughter danced impatiently from foot to foot as we waited on the door being opened. It was my friend’s mum who eventually opened it, wine glass in hand.

“Ah, you’re here! We were getting worried. You’re the next to go in and Jean’s already been in a while,” she gushed. “Come away in, girls!”

A chill ran through my veins. The main attraction of the “At Home Hen Party” was an angel card reading. Suddenly my sixth sense was twitching. My own angel card experiences were all positive and reassuring but a growing sense of unease flooded my mind.

Too late to turn back now.

I politely declined a glass of bubbly – I had brought the car but the truth was that I didn’t want my senses impaired. As I sat on the couch beside my daughter I tried to relax. In the car I’d explained to her that I would be seeing “the lady” for a card reading and that she would need to wait with her auntie. Despite her pleas to be allowed to accompany me, I said “No.”

“She’s waiting for you, doll,” said the bride-to-be nudging me on the shoulder. “Bedroom on the left at the end of the hall.”

The white painted door was shut tight. Taking a deep breath, I turned the handle and slowly opened the door. A frenzy of wild ash blonde hair, white crocheted shawl and piercing blue eyes flew at me, hugged me tight and declared loudly, “What an energy you’ve brought in!”

With my personal space violated, my “guard” imploded.

“Sit yourself down,” she encouraged dragging me towards a plain wooden chair.

I did as I was told and sat with my feet firmly planted on the ground, my hands on my knees in a frantic attempt to ground myself and regroup my thoughts. Before I could stop her, the woman had taken both of my hands in hers.

“You’re a nurse? Or a doctor? Definitely a healer.”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

She stared at me intently, looking deep into my very soul. I could feel her mind probing the depths of mine and I was failing to shut the doors on my innermost thoughts as she probed her way around.

“You’re a witch. A healing witch,” she stated bluntly. “And you always have been.”

Instantly my third eye opened up to its past. The distinctive aroma of a peat fire filled the room.

I was no longer in my friend’s mum’s spare bedroom; I was in a low stone cottage on the outskirts of a village in the Outer Hebrides, on the shores of a loch. In front of me a small cooking pot hung over a peat fire. From the additional strong aroma around me, the pot contained fish that appeared to be simmering in some milk. Instinctively I knew that it was to reduce the saltiness of the herring that I’d bought at the pier that morning. As I stirred the pot with a well-worn wooden spoon, the smoke formed into a vision of a baby. Outside I heard the hoodie crow caw twice. It was time. Carefully I swung the pot to one side and banked the fire. Pausing to pick up my small hessian bag containing my medicinal herbs, freshly gathered that morning on the way back from the village, and drew my shawl round my shoulders.

Closing the door behind me I stepped out into the gloaming and walked up the steep scree path to the road. A young boy, his flaming red hair sticking out like a scarecrow’s, came running full pelt towards me.

“Mistress, you need to come now,” he gasped. “My mother needs you. It’s my sister’s time and the bairn’s not turned.”

“Calm down, Fergus. Breathe,” I heard my self say. “All will be well with this bairn and your sister.”

Suddenly I found the right door in my mind and slammed it shut. I snapped back into the present and was relieved to be back in the bedroom, even if “the lady” was still holding my hands.

The wide-eyed look on her face suggested she had share my vision – or was it a memory of my true past?

She loosened her grip on my hands and said quietly, “You’ve a daughter. She’s very like you.”

I didn’t respond.

“She’s got the same guardian angel as you. Same one you’ve had all through time. You’ve seen it. Your daughter sees it.”

“She does?”

“Yes,” replied the woman reaching round for the deck of angel cards that had until now lain forgotten on the bed. “She has a real butterfly personality your little girl. All pinks, blues and purples. There’s always butterflies about her.”

My blood ran cold as I pictured my baby girl sitting in the front room wearing her favourite t-shirt. The blue one with the large pink, purple and silver butterfly emblazoned on the front.

The woman slowly shuffled the deck of cards then, to my mild surprise, drew out a card for me.

“Perfect,” she breathed, handing the card to me.

In my trembling hands I held the image of a beautiful angel with her eyes cast downwards. Her wings were neatly folded behind her and in her hands she held a crystal ball filled with colourful butterflies, all shades of pink, blue and purple.

“There’s nothing I can tell you that you can’t see for yourself, mistress,” she declared staring straight into my unguarded soul. “This card says it all. You’re not ready to face your powers yet. The folded wings signify that. You’re focussed on all you hold dear to you. That’s symbolised by the crystal ball. When you’re ready you’ll lift your face to the world, spread those wings and soar. You and your daughter. She shares your gifts.”

I stared at the card in total disbelief at what I was hearing but at the same time recognising it as the truth I’d been denying for so long.

Something fluttering near the light caught my eye. It was a white butterfly dancing near the brightly lit bulb.

The smell of peat smoke filled my nostrils once more and, in the distance, I heard the first wails of a new born babe.

 

 

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A Massive night out

Posted on October 13, 2014 | 2 comments

I mentioned a couple of posts back that concerts were like buses. None for months then WHAM- a musical deluge.

Last week it was Boy Child’s turn to chaperone his lovely mother aka ME! By coincidence we were heading back to the same venue as I’d visited with Girl Child two weeks ago. And, like the last time, this was the first gig I’d gone to when it was just me and one of my little darlings. Mother and Son night out.

This time we were off to see Massive, a fabulous up and coming Australian rock band. I had the pleasure of reviewing their debut album, Full Throttle, a few weeks back  for Phoenix Music Online (http://phoenixmusiconline.org) and it’s been a long time since a band has blown me away like Massive have. Having played the album constantly for weeks, I was more than a little excited to see them play live. They were the first of two support bands for the headliners, UK band The Treatment, who, I don’t mind admitting, I knew nothing about.

Having taken the train to Glasgow, hiked up Renfield St and Sauchiehall St to the O2 ABC, trying to keep pace with Boy Child and those long legs of his, we hid out in a nearby coffee shop until the venue’s doors opened. (OK we hid in the coffee chop to thaw out Boy Child who had, in his teenage wisdom, decided he would be warm enough in a t-shirt without a jacket. It’s Glasgow in October, Boy!! He was wrong. He was frozen!)

Shortly before seven we headed across the street and into the sanctuary of the O2 ABC 2. This intimate venue is starting to grow on me.

Bang on schedule Massive took to the stage in front of a small but growing appreciative audience. All bar one rock fan hung back a bit off the barrier, a little wary of this new act. Unusual for a Glasgow crowd. After Massive had stormed their way through their set opener, the band’s charismatic front man, Brad Marr, invited us to come closer. We did!

Ensconced on the barrier Boy Child and I  and everyone else, who was lucky enough to be there, were treated to an amazing performance of RnFnR! The highlight of Massive’s half hour set for me was a song called Ghost. I love love love that song!( Check it out on You Tube -http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DenOPmovpq4 – You won’t regret it.)

When the band bade us a fond farewell and left the stage, I asked the roadie to pass me the set list that had been on stage in front of us. He handed it over with a smile and a couple of Massive guitar picks. Thank you, sir!

“Operation Autograph” was immediately launched! It wasn’t too hard a task as these musicians just love being among their fans and the added attraction of the beer at the bar helped. First to adorn the set list was front man, Brad Marr. It was a pleasure to chat all too briefly with him. While Boy Child and I were talking to him, drummer, Jarrod Medwin, came over and obligingly signed the slightly damp (beer stains from the band’s beer) set list. He admired Boy Child’s Alter Bridge t-shirt then we left them in peace to chat to other fans over a beer.

As the next band, Buffalo Summer, took to the stage I kept my eyes peeled for Massive’s bass player and guitarist. Eventually I spotted bass player, Aidan McGarrigle, near the rear of the room and went over to ask if he would sign the set list. As accommodating as his fellow band members, he set down his pint and penned his signature – very neatly, I may add! Having thanked him, I returned to my spot on the barrier beside Boy Child. The bass player remained behind us looking a little weary and a little lost. I nearly went back to invite him over to join us.

Three down – one to go.

It took me almost another hour but finally we saw the elusive guitarist coming back into the room. Quickly I followed him over to the merchandising stand, put my hand on his shoulder and commented that he was a hard man to find. With a shy smile and a slightly startled look in his eyes, he too signed the now less soggy set list. Thank you, Ben Laguda, and apologies if I startled you.

Mission accomplished.

A simple souvenir that is now framed and renting space on Girl Child’s wall.

Who knows in years to come when Massive really make it big, because it’s going to happen, I’ll look back at this beer stained souvenir and smile, remembering that I was right there at the front when they played their first ever gig in Scotland. Hurry back, boys!

 Massive collage

As for the headline act, The Treatment, they were great too. Perhaps because I had no expectations, I thoroughly enjoyed their hour long set. It’s been a while since this rock mum has been stood on the barrier head banging without a care in the world as to who was watching. (Not so good the next day when I had a pounding headache)

the treatment collage

The stars of the night though were most definitely the wizards from Oz- Massive! \M/

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