No More Tiers (Enough is Enough)

Well, here it is; in all its glory, my current keyboard rig. It could also be considered a tribute to Yamaha's technology over the past 25 years or more.

Starting from the top: My DX7, bought in the summer of 1984, when they had yet to completely consume the music industry with that ubiquitous '80s digital piano sound. I'd seen Yes at Wembley Arena on the "90125" tour a few weeks earlier, and although I have always preferred Yes with Rick Wakeman, what Tony Kaye did that night with a couple of DX7s was astonishing. I'd been given a bit of money following the death of my father that year and ended up blowing most of it on a DX7, flight case, amp and speaker. I'm sure there were some raised eyebrows at the time, but until then I'd played in bands using my home-made Maplin kit keyboard, a monophonic Davolisint and a borrowed Hohner Pianet, so this was going to be a quantum leap forward. The fact that the DX7 is still with me, and has been a part of my life longer than my Father was, is probably testament to my profound thinking at the time. Alas, it doesn't come out much these days - this was only the second time in about the last six years - but it still works perfectly, even if it's a bit bashed about. Clearly I'm never going to part with it, for sentimental as much as economic reasons - I'd be lucky to fetch £30 for it in its current condition - but I think it will be a long time before it emerges from its case again.

In the middle is the wonderful SY99 - bought new in 1992 when it was the flagship of the Yamaha synth range. I'd already acquired a Yamaha PF70 electronic piano (lovely touch, lousy sound and long-since gone), but I was really looking for something that had better master keyboard capabilities for controlling all my other equipment. The SY99 gave me this, together with a broad canvas of sound capabilities. It uniquely fused the FM synthesis technology of the DX7 era with the sampled sound playback that continues to dominate today, with the ability of the latter to modulate the former, producing weird and occasionally wonderful sonic textures. These are still highly regarded and sought after, with perhaps only half a dozen or so appearing on ebay each year, helping prices stay at around £500. I would dearly like to keep mine, but I fear that a lack of space may force me to sell it.

And finally, my latest pride and joy: a brand spanking new Yamaha S90XS; a full 88-note keyboard with a stunning S6 Grand Piano sample coupled with all the sound generation of the Motif XS synthesizer engine. I've only had it since Wednesday (it should have been Tuesday, but City Link managed to ship it to Portsmouth by accident), so I'm still finding my way around it, but it is...well I hate to use the over-blown adjective...awesome. If I have a criticism it is that you pay all this money and only get a pretty basic hard-copy user manual, with the full version coming on an accompanying CD. When I've got a week to spare I'll print it out, so that I can read it in bed, on the loo, during party political broadcasts and all those other idle moments.

I could go on, but we're off out to the annual Plaxtol village duck race. You may remember Emma won the under 5's decorated duck competition last year; she won't be winning anything this year - she's in the next age category and she insisted on using paper glue to try to stick sparklies to the plastic duck, with inevitably disappointing results.

Watch(er) of the Skies

Wahoo! It's my birthday next week, so I've had the usual inquiries from family members as to whether there's anything I'd like. As usual I've procrastinated in my responses and now it's pretty much too late for them to get anything, so I've resorted to the tried-and tested "please donate towards this really big (and expensive) thing I'd like to get". Well, that "big thing" has been ordered, and I CAN'T wait for it to arrive, but until then I shall keep quiet, in case it all goes horribly wrong.

Meanwhile I was perusing the latest issue of Smartlife magazine in case there is some new gizmo that I never knew I needed but couldn't possibly live without. And here it is......

It's called the Meteoris and is made by Swiss watchmaker Louis Moinet. Put simply it's an electro-mechanical planetarium mounted on a metre-high plinth which also houses four tourbillon watches. Now if that doesn't sound expensive enough already, the watches and the planets are coated in dust and powder from Lunar, Martian and other meteorites that have found their way to Earth over the years. And the price for this completely insane statement of opulence? $4.7 million.

Bonkers!

Twilight Alehouse

I've been decamped in my favourite hotel on the outskirts of Oswestry for the past four nights. Just to be clear, it's my favourite hotel on the outskirts of Oswestry, not my favourite hotel. It's always a sticky wicket when you talk about your work on blogs - customer, employer and employee confidentiality and all that - suffice to say we've spent usual ridiculous hours deploying our latest software masterpiece onto the Great British telephone network.

Each evening the team has flicked coins to decide where to eat. Except for Friday night, when we were too knackered after the drive up, so we ate in the hotel restaurant. And Saturday night, when we were too knackered after a 12 hour shift and got back so late that the only place we could go was the hotel restaurant.

At least the six of us got out last night, but then the majority vote went with a trip to the Simla Tandoori in downtown Oswestry. It's a decent enough place, and my Jalfrezi was perfectly palatable, but it seemed a waste of an expenses-paid opportunity.

With half the team heading back to Kent at lunchtime, the three of us who remained behind were able to finish the last bits of work at a sensible time and head to one of our preferred hostelries, the White Lion in Whittington. There's always plenty of mouth-watering dishes on the menu, and a nice guest ale to wash it down with. So I was a tad surprised and disappointed to walk in there tonight and see Shepherd Neame's Spitfire on tap. This ale is synonymous with Kent, where SN own about 50% of the pubs (probably not that many, but it certainly feels like it) - it's a not unpleasant beer, but I certainly wouldn't drive halfway up England for it. Still, the food was lovely.

We set off home straight after breakfast tomorrow. I've really missed the family and I believe they've missed me - apparantly Oliver won't play with his train set without me, and Emma is asking whether I'm bringing her a present back. I'll have to pick up some motorway service area tut on the way back to make up for my absence. And probably a nice bottle of Burgundy for Lin too.

My only dilemma now is whether after four nights away I can get away with going to band practice on Wednesday night. We're meant to be working on Carpet Crawlers this week, so I think they might miss my arpeggios if I'm not there.

The Things That They Say

I think I inadvertently found myself in a hitherto unseen part of a Two Ronnies sketch tonight.

I had just put Emma to bed and read her a couple of stories when I noticed some laundry that had yet to be put away. Being the "new man" that I am, I thought it would be a good idea to sort it out now, and set about placing each item in its appropriate place in her wardrobe. Socks, knickers, vests and jeans all posed no problem, but then I picked up some kind of dress she had been wearing yesterday.

Unsure of its normal home, I turned to Emma and asked her where it belonged.

"In the top drawer" came her reply, so I duly opened the top drawer, which was full of fleeces, and proceeded to fold it neatly away.

"No Daddy, the top drawer" said Emma. Somewhat puzzled, I removed the dress and realised that it obviously belonged in her other set of drawers on the opposite side of the room. I duly crossed towards them, but as I was about to open the top drawer Emma leapt from her bed, took the dress and put it in the third drawer down of her wardrobe.

"In here - the drawer where I keep my tops". And off she toddled back to bed.

Ronnie Barker would have been proud of her.

Here is the News

I often read articles that ridicule the round-robin newsletters that people like to put in their Christmas cards to let their friends and far-flung family know what glorious activities they've been up to during the past year. Personally I enjoy receiving these, as more often than not we don't get to see these people anything like as regularly as we used to, and so I've never considered not compiling one to send out ourselves.

On the other hand, I can see that some people find them irritating when when they just seem to be an ostentatious vehicle for telling everyone how wonderful their lives are - you know the sort of thing; endless paragraphs on exotic travels or how little Johnny has achieved 10 A'Levels before his seventh birthday. Mmmm, I guess we might have been guilty of the former in the past.

So, this year I've gone for an opt-in newsletter. Those of you reading this will be here because you've stumbled upon this page by accident or you've chosen to come here having received our Christmas card. Or you're one of the very few people who check this blog for updates - a fruitless task for much of the year - so step forward and take a bow; PT and CyberKim.

Right, so where do we begin? Well, after returning from the family holiday in Aspen, where Emma completed her first black run and Oliver safely negotiated the Olympic slalom course on his potty....

....er, right, now what have we really been up to?

Well for those of you who were reading last year, you may remember Lin had been made redundant towards the end of 2008. After a few months of effectively completing her maternity leave, Lin became a job-seeker in the spring. It was a pretty forlorn task to begin with, but after several fruitless weeks, opportunities began to arise, and by June Lin had three different job offers. She had no hesitation in taking up a post as part-time practice manager at a doctors' surgery in the centre of Tonbridge. The leap into the public sector, and particularly the NHS, has been quite a shock, but slowly but surely she is getting on top of things and starting to feel like she's achieving something.

Emma started her reception year at Woodlands Infant School in September. She was definitely ready for it, and has settled in very well. She's a typical four-year old; a real handful at home but an absolute angel at school apparently - although we think the teachers may have her confused with somebody else. She did surprise us all (and herself) back in May by winning first prize in the under 5 age group of the Plaxtol village duck race decorating competition - the judges said her effort actually looked like it was done by a four-year old without adult assistance, which was indeed the case - hers is the rubbish looking one with the yoghurt pot on its head in the picture below

Meanwhile Oliver is now 21-months old and an absolute delight. He has a very happy personality and is no little trouble at all - he sleeps 11 hours or more each night without any interruption, something he's been doing for many months now, and he eats just about anything we put in front of him. Until recently Lin's parents were looking after him while she was at work, but Lin's Mum is currently recovering from a hip replacement, so he now stays with a child-minder instead. That seems to be working out quite well - it gives him the chance to mix with other children of his own age.

As for me, well I still have a job. There have been some redundancies at work recently where colleagues of the last eight years have unfortunately been let go, but personally I'm in quite a secure position. As long as the popularity of X-Factor and Strictly Come Dancing continues there will be plenty for me to do. If you read elsewhere in this blog you'll also see that a few of us at work decided to relive our youth and have a bash at forming a band. It's been great fun and we've all been surprised at how good we sound. No doubt psycho-analysts would attribute it to a mid-life crisis, but we certainly intend to continue next year. Lin, of course, is right in the middle of a whole series of gigs leading up to Christmas with the East Peckham Silver Band, having had a busy summer with them at various venues around the South-East.

As I write this the snow is falling heavily outside the window. No doubt Emma's school will be closed in the morning (Health and Safety: a child might slip over!) - a shame, the last day before the Christmas holiday. I think I'll pop out and take a nice photo for you all......

....here it is. Merry Christmas

It's Still Rock 'n' Roll To Me

Well, we did it!

From our humble, uncertain beginnings in late July, the nine-piece TMC (Teligent Music Club) played our first gig on Friday - a benefit concert for Children in Need, that raised in excess of £200.

We settled on five songs that we've just about mastered; Make Me Smile, Wonderful Tonight, New Shoes (Paolo Nutini), Baker Street and Santa Clause is Coming to Town - all of which went down very well. In fact watching the DVD over the weekend, the musical performance was really good - although what we lack is a PA system, so trying to get nine instruments plus vocals mixed using a bundle of practice amps was a bit of a challenge.

So that's the first hurdle out of the way. We play another low-key private show for the WaGs in three weeks time, then we'll reconvene in the new year to start working on a whole load of new songs. Now that we have confidence in our musicianship I think we'll be getting a little more ambitious and even diverse - I'm floating the idea of trying Boz Scaggs - Lido Shuffle (wonderful synth solo for me to get my teeth into), and given the common musical taste I share with the vocalist (and first rhythm guitarist) I think some 70s Genesis or Floyd will get an airing.

School

It's funny how watching the children grow up triggers long-lost memories of similar times in my own childhood. This week was Emma's first at infant school; reception year as they call it - effectively compulsory nursery school, as she's a full year younger than I was when I started school.

Dropping her off on Monday morning was always going to be unpredictable - would there be floods of tears, tantrums and wet knickers? And that's just from the mothers - I've never seen so many wearing dark glasses on an overcast day. Emma was absolutely fine, even though there was a look of trepidation in her eye. She had nothing to fear really; we were already aware that two of her best friends from nursery and play school were going to be in her class, so she was quick to settle in.

Inevitably there were some poor kids crying inconsolably; you don't know who to feel more sorry for - the child or the mother who can do or say nothing to make things any better. And then I remembered that I was like that child forty-something years ago, abandoned in a completely alien place and not knowing anybody. I can clearly recall screaming my eyes out as my Mother disappeared into the distance on her bike, rattling through the Sturmey-Archer 4-speed whilst pedalling like a Tour-de-France sprinter, and never looking back to see the emotional state I was in.

So I suppose we should be grateful that Emma is up bright and early every day (including the weekend) asking if it's time to go to school yet. Bless.