Back on our heads

So after a brief (24 hour) r'n'r session with a couple of mates [detail expleted, in this public blog at least] I am now back in full organise mode, as Ivan in arriving on Sunday [airport gods permitting] and we have a ton of things to do not only to complete the wonderful forthcoming SoiSong album, but also to decide how best to move forward with gigs, profile-building etc. The new record is SO good (IMHO) thanks to Ivan's immaculate and sublime audio stylings that it deserves to reach as wide an audience as possible.

Ivan is unusually reticent when it comes to pushing himself into the limelight, and I have been rather hanging back, for fear of coming across as the "more famous" of the the two of us, when in reality he does most of the work (the important work anyway). However face to face we will be able to sort out lots, I have no doubt.

The main thing I need to do today is buy a few MORE beds, as, despite the fact the numerous houseboys living in my compound often share with one another, dorm style, us farangs (limeys. poms, foreign debbils or whatever) usually have at least a bed of our own. I expect they're worried if we shared I might roll over and squash them! :) NOT to mention me snoring, drooling, oozing, leaking or other distasteful effects when unconscious! LOL :)

Also my first and best mate X is returning from a week of Buddhist retreat today, rendering the Sleaz Compound extra full, since my best English mate is in guest-house number one. Hopefully the quiet time away from city diversions will see X a little calmer and more centred than he was before.

In general Thais are SO good at having a good time (unlike most other races who, even when they're sh**-faced, generally do not REALLY enjoy themselves, IMHO) that unless circumstances (or the auto-pilot) apply the brakes, then given enough rope, gas, dosh etc Thai's sometimes turn into the Runaway Train of Fun... Which, if one's not careful, can get lost without a trace down long-forgotten, overgrown sidings leading off through the jungle, to some distant, rusting mine-workings, or abandoned asbestos factory, where they smash into the buffers, "Bourne Ultimatum-style", bursting into flames, and then things can get messy.

Although I am always conscious that I provided the gas for Geff's (John Balance's) Runaway Train (and feel kind of guilty for that), I know he would have turned off the main track onto his own siding without me long ago, probably before he was 20, and at least I got him to produce some great records and writing on the journey, that brought pleasure to millions..... [okay it was thousands and thousands, but whose counting? ,-)]

X by contrast, though 1) a great singer, 2) an ex-rent boy, and 3) my original Thai boyfriend (pattern ringing any bells?) has the knowledge of how to live without ANY money; he was a temple 'orphan' boy and through his teens survived on almost nothing, and at least he knows where the "auto-pilot switch" IS, if those robotic "Pull Up, Pull UP" voices start sounding in the cockpit! 

Poor Geff preferred sitting on the wings with the wind in his hair, and did not know there WAS a cockpit!

God Bless Him, and you too! :)