Least Complicated

My Dear Fellow,

Today was annoying. I had to rush into town to get my passport verified AGAIN by the same solicitor who notarised it in November. It was one of those bureaucratic, "Now we need you to do that thing we never told you that you needed to do the last time you did it" things.

But as you can see, it had been a beautiful day and so I enjoyed the sunshine. I found myself spinning my iPod around to 10,000 Maniacs and The Indigo Girls who I haven't listened to for a while.

I find my listening is seasonal. and to do with memory. Summer reminds me of Jenny Woodman who introduced me to both of the above and Tracy Chapman too. 

She was a folk singer I met during my years in Bristol. Well, all right, she was actually a systems analyst, but no-one is a systems analyst on purpose. She wanted to be folk singer, but I have to say she did not have a great voice. And her own compositions were pretty bad. As for her guitar playing...

Jenny gave me a tape of her mangling her way through some Leonard Cohen and Ralph McTell in 1992. I recently transferred it to mp3 and hearing it for the first time in 25 years was like meeting her all over again. At one point you can hear her going, "Wait, wait... I can do it, I can do it..." and then finally getting the chord she wanted like Father Ted that time. 

She then struggles her way through "There But For Fortune", and forgets the words but "doo-doo-dums" her way to the end before declaring. "That was really good!" in a surprised tone. Then adding, "What we need are lots and lots of other instruments."

So she was rubbish, but it was an endearing rubbishness and she was a very funny lady. A little Pickett-like, but with a very very English accent and constantly wearing a ratty old cardigan. Sadly, we lost touch in the mid 90's and despite my best efforts to Googlestalk her, I've been unable to track her down.

For some reason, I associate her with sunny days. Maybe it's because Bristol is the hottest place I have ever lived. So whenever it is hot out, I feel an urge to put on The Indigo Girls. 

"Are you a lesbian?" asked Pickett. It's not a question I'm asked often. This was after I told her I was going to see them in concert. This must have been 2000ish. 

"It's not mandatory is it?" I asked. But I may have been wrong about that. On the night I found I was the lone male in an entirely-woman audience. I suppose some of them might have been straight. Funnily enough, a lot of them were Canadian too. I'm not sure what the connection is there.

You will be glad to hear my summer-folkie phase does not usually last long. It gets replaced in late summer by a need to listen to Bananarama , Blondie and other sounds of the 80's. Moving into Autumn I go through a bit of a Lou Reed and/or REM phase. Around Christmas it's all about the late 90's because of Er Indoors.

I'm concerned that this will all get screwed up when my seasons are reversed. I might end up listening to Bananarama at Christmas. 

Shudder. That's just unnatural. 

Parsones