I'm waiting. The last farewell was - start again. The first picnic of 2001 was effective in the extreme. The organizers were not where they had told everyone to be at two o'clock, which was appropriate. I wasn't where I had told anyone to be either. I was on time, mind; from time down to mind. I remember that day / I was reading a book / By Ernest Hemingway / She signed it / In her handwriting / Then she went off and became a librarian. Ah: it's middle-of-the-adult, road-oriented rock; but still it moves me. That reminds me: someone in NYC said that 'Spring Rain' was country&western. I was about to say: never argue with Ally96 about the Go-Betweens. Then I remembered that that's all that Ally96 and I ever do. Still, I'm on his side: rootsyish, maybe; full-on country, no. If I'm not mistaken, you misquoted '100,000 Fireflies'. Surely the line is 'sounds like a mountain range IN LOVE', which is a heck of a lot more lateral (yet still 'topographical') and thought-provoking than 'sounds like a mountain range to me'. Lll Lll is starting a Pynchon support group. This will involve people like us paying for Pynchon to carry on shopping. He needs support, now he's retired. I have read enough to Report Back on the phenomenology of the banana stuff, and I'm afraid I have to say it's overrated. Heck, it's the, um, Pet Sounds of Pynchon moments; apart from all the other ones. Plus, also, we should have a support group for ex-Pynchonians - I mean, folk who thought they loved Pynchon, but have just realized that they're *never going to read him agaim*, cos he's too wacky. What will they do with their lives? Bring out magazines and stuff? I seriously doubt it. People said they saw Finlay Quaye, Graham Coxon and 'the Aphex Twin', and, like, don't worry chuck, I really admire their, like music. I don't. Coxon has been involved with a few good records, but is a goofy bastard. The others are worse still. Sod 'em. Look, stop distracting me. It's time to talk about the picnic again. For instance, the way that David SS of the SS had made loads of special biscuits. Where? At his house. Think about it. I tried. Then I stopped. The way that daf m turned up brandishing computer print-outs and asked me to comment on them. I was happy to do so. That's an understatement. I was *merry* to do so. Campbell - not that one; no, not that one; no! not that one either - look - *another* one, OK? - yes, *that* one - gave the lead. Coventry Crumble as Sad Strach Sobs. There was a mysterious presence off of the I Love Music pages of the Freaky Tigger tiger-breeding empire. He was incognito. It was a cameo, if you catch my drift. It was Primroses or Jasmine, sinister village or the Japanese Embassy. He admitted that Lloyd Cole had been consistently Lloyd Cole. More than this I had better not say; I can't afford to blow his cover. Mind you, I don't know what I'm talking about - ----------------------------- 96 INTERLUDE I don't know what I'm talking about. Somebody does. Perhaps. But they're not telling. They're just banking. Somebody has to do it. Don't they? Maybe not. We wondered about it. We're still not sure. We're still standing. That can't be said about Elena, though. ------------------------- no, I don't know what I'm talking about, here, because plenty of people were banging - and I mean, 'banging'; this was a *picnic*, for goodness' sake - on about their intention to buy the S********' LP. I mean, there was even someone who was slagging off Lloyd Cole while declaring that intention. What this means is only hitting me the next day. What does it mean? Ow. Someone went mincing, I mean, camping, I mean, walking, I mean, hiking. Let's offroad. It's gripped. And that's just the handle. Cazza looked unusually tough. Various posters were putty in his hand, which makes a change from china. Somewhere in China turned out to be better than Cabbage Patch Man thought. By the end of that debate - surely the best of its kind since April 1999 - even Cabbage Boy had to admit this, though the Foxgloves also accepted his point about cover versions covering one's perception of a song. Really, cabbage, you made your point and you did it well. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Not that much, anyway. Larry is not a toy he is my friend. I have to hand it to Marvel, the original Agent Wagon Wheel - catch my drift? - who scored a hat-trick and had it stolen from him. By whom? I'm not sure. Could it have been the boy G? Someone told me that the boy G was an 80s revivalist, but that's not such a bad thing. I know a couple of 80s fans myself. And they're aliens. Tigermilking was enjoyable. And that's saying something. I think I finally know what the FT bods mean by a 'Scooby record'. On Sunday we worked out who had plastered the billboards of the 1990s. Now we're past 1990, we need to know these things. Actually, darn it, I've managed to miss out Laura Cantrell, haven't I? Laura Cantrell, who has an initial-sharing arrangement with Lloyd Cole, sings songs a bit like 'Spring Rain', I mean, country songs. It's possible to sing along with her 'Churches On The Interstate' in an appropriately deep voice if you've had a few ices first. We did. Really, I have a lot of time for Cantrell. After that I'm afraid we had to give 'Long Vermont Roads' another spin. I seriously have come to feel that 'LVR' is one of the great driving songs. That's what you would expect it to be, I admit. There's not much counter-intuition going on here. In that respect I'm just trespassing on your valuable spades. The roads are dark and long. So, like I say, David Thomson got his turn. Tarantino got his turn in the grey winter sun of May, for goodness' sake. Remember him? Northern Soul as the other of 'Southern Man'. After that it all went a bit pea-shaped. Some people wouldn't even give peas a chance. We needed to up the potato intake; they seemed to understand. Cabbage Man behaved himself. We thought under clouds about utilitarian designs, housing estates, architecture, that kind of thing. In a boozer the kids behaved themselves - unusually well, I thought, for such a bunch of old lags. Marvel went twisting by the pool table. Cookie looked unusually photogenic flattened over his cue too. Certain people I don't know were diuscussed. Obviously I can't reveal any details. That would be out of the question. Oh, lemur. If we carry on like this we won't need Peter Miller anymore. And then what would become of us? We'd get covered in black bean sauce and fed to the ducks. We are only prawns in their game. It's not over. I'm not even waiting any more. They are. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! 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