If communism's about equal opportunities for all, then I'm all for it, comrade.
Because it seems my devotion to nailing 'Ochi Chyornye', aka 'Dark eyes', aka 'Les Yeux Noir' - Django's version of the unofficial Russian Gypsy anthem, has had a knock-on effect and caused fate to smile on my endeavours. No sign of a huge Cheshire cat grin quite yet, but there's definitely a noticeable flicker of kindly regard on the old girl's lips.
All of which means I've been rather busy of late…
A week w
orking at an agency filled with some very nice chaps in Brighton (which prompted a lovely day out with all three of my girls perusing the pier and having a bit of a promenade), a day doodling up a bit of a corporate film script with my old mate Shaun, a few days back at my old agency in the in the always agreeable company of the marvellous art director Sir Martin of Cunningham, and a fantastic booking to work on a lovely, very high profile commercial with my old drumming, writing, Godfathering, sometime business-running partner John.
Not to mention getting logos finished for the new film company we're setting up (keep your eyes peeled - SINCH FILMS (Simon 'n' Chris and Spot) is coming your way very soon).
And somehow, in the midst of all this I've managed to visit Mum and Dad in Coventry, start a new radio sit-com script, stay awake during the odd England game, take the girls shopping in town (and down the local boozer to recover), sample the ales at the local beer festival, celebrate our good friend Sue's birthday with a barbecue and a beer or two (that is how you spell ten, isn't it?), knock-off a few frames of snooker, and introduce a few more trout to the joys of terra-firma.
(To be honest, much as I love catching fish, the real Joy was watching Andy expertly wheedle out the first fish of the day, casting to a rise with his own choice of fly. As Confucius say, 'old master has much to learn from gifted novice'. In fact, if he hadn't put me on to the right fly, I might well have come home with an empty bag, instead of staging a majestic Spurs-like second half recovery (with the aid of a rubber-legged daddy long legs - think an aquatic Peter Crouch) and coming away 4-1 up. Sorry (again) mate.)
All of which means there's actually been precious little time to give dear old Dark Eyes the attention she deserves. But you know what they say - if you want something doing ask a busy man…
So I did. I found a busy man and asked him, so I could go down the pub for a well earned Guinness instead, but he curtly told me he'd got enough on his plate and I could stick it where the sun don’t shine. (No surprise there, then.)
That meant I had to have a go myself. And boy, I am glad I did. Because I've nailed it. Sorted it. Beaten it, Jackie Pallo like, into (two falls and a) submission.
I can't say it wasn't a struggle, but then nothing that's really worth having ever comes easy, does it?
I think there are a number of reasons it's all finally fallen into place (at the right tempo, too). There's the great tuition stuff that's available these days (actually I think it's more that I've discovered people who really know how to teach, rather than shrouding it all in pseudo-technical mystery that ensures it’s a closed circle). Hat's off to you Mr Robin Nolan and Mr John Jorgenson.
There's the fact that the ground work that I did learning the basics of the style from these guys meant that I understood what I was playing and how it fitted together (the linked arpeggios, the chromatic runs, the substitutions, etc) rather than simply following dots.
There's the fact that I suddenly realised how important it is to use your ears, not just your fingers (I couldn't get the first long run to fit for weeks, until I listen to the original again and realised I'd somehow mentally put in a pause that wasn't there, which meant the phrasing was all up the cock (technical guitarist's term) and I was starting two beats late.
And there was the fact that suddenly having a bit of work on again means I can relax just a little bit and really enjoy playing, rather than feeling that indulging in extra curricular activities means I'm somehow cheating my family when I should be out earning a crust.
And that's the key to it all really, isn't it? Enjoyment. Learning to enjoy the moment (seems those Taoists have got it bang on again), rather than brooding on the past or worrying about what the future may, or may not hold.
So now I'm determined to fully enjoy writing. And enjoy not having to write just as much. I'm going to relish and enjoy the new challenges my change of circumstance brings. I'm going to enjoy being busy. And I'm going to really enjoy not being busy too.
Because, as far as I can see, that's the only way to make sure the guitar playing, the fishing, the snooker and the writing will improve.
Up the workers! (And the non-workers too…)
