Ogatodomar

I heard the other day that a blipper had died. Not one I was following, and apart from wishing their journey into mystery a short blessing I didn't give it much thought. Later, I dropped in on their profile to wish their final blip farewell. And connections clicked into place.

There's a thing, called six degrees of separation. It says we are all friends of friends and no more than six mutual connections away from any other person on the planet. I rather suspect it's a hopeless hypothesis, but we do touch each other in many random ways.

In spring 1978 I went to a gig in Bristol. Afterward the gig I spent an hour or so chatting with the support act, Dave Evans, and later I bought his album for the magnificent sum of £1.35. It had a couple his songs that carried me into story. Some that have been covered by many others.

I note now that Keith Warmington played his now legendary harmonica on the album, and the album itself was published by The Village Thing Records at an address not five miles from where I'm sat at home. Music is incestuous; everyone plays with everyone.

Fare well, Dave Evans aka Ogatodamar. I'm montaged a shot I took in the bright cold sunlight of this afternoon, against the very album that has been in a box in various rooms and garages since they invented the CD and downloads... I really ought to buy a turntable.