Monday, 18 January 2010

And A-One And A-Two And A-One, Two, Three...

You see, it's always the way. You set your mind to doing something and the brain steadfastly refuses to co-operate. "I see what you're trying to do," says the brain, "but I'm not particularly interested in going along with it."

"Come on, brain," say I, "you're beginning to make me, and therefore by extension yourself, look foolish."

"Well, you do all the hard work, then, see how you like it for a change", reply the little grey cells.

"Fine, I will," rejoinder I, immediately gasping for breath as my autonomic system is switched off and I wonder how you make your lungs do that whole breathing thing...

Which is yet another roundabout way of saying that I have nowt to bang on about yet again. Maybe I could tell you something about the splendour that is me that you may not already now. Let's see, lets' see. I have a beard? Nope, covered. Quite like films? May well have mentioned that once or twice. Slightly thin up top in the hair department? Well, not a lot more to note on that.

Have I talked about my musicality? What musicality, I hear you ask. Well, precisely. I'm about as musical as a large lump of mature cheddar. But once, I had an inkling that I may be of a musical nature...

As with many children, I was offered the opportunity at school to take up an instrument. I could have chosen anything really - piano, trumpet, a nice quiet drum kit. For some reason lost in the mists of time, these were not the instruments that appealed. No, for some unfathomable reason, the musical instrument which I decided was the one for me to learn was.... the clarinet.

I will say that I did succeed in making it produce noise. Where I failed was in making it produce noise that anyone or anything with ears would want to listen to. The succession of reed-splitting squeaks, squawks and squeals which issued from the business end of said device wold give the word "cacophony" a bad name.

Maybe I should have picked something easier. Maybe the clarinet just wasn't the instrument I was suited to. Or maybe music and I should remain respectful of each others boundaries and agree to admire each other from afar. I suspect it's the latter...

There you go, brain, I didn't need you after all. Thbpbpbpt.*

* That's the sound of a small raspberry being blown, in case you were wondering.

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