Monday, September 25, 2006
I am not at work. I am ill.
(No! Come back! I promise this will not take too long. I'll get all the vomiting, shitting, feeling sick, headache, no appetite, no energy bit out of the way first. I promise I will.)
So, yes. I am ill again. I went to the Doctor's this morning and he has signed me off until Thursday. I have tablets to try to stop the explosive diarrhoea and I have a bit of plastic that I need to stick up my arse to get a stool sample, when the urge strikes me to have a poo. That urge hasn't struck this afternoon, which is a surprise in itself. Since Saturday night I estimate that I have been to the toilet 18 times, accompanied by my stomach making comedy noises every time. On one occasion I used the bed in lieu of being able to get to the toilet. At this Lorraine raised an eyebrow, said, "I'll change the bed" and did it without another word while I stood shamefaced to one side. Now, that it real love.
I have banished myself to the back bedroom. I definitely do not want to give this to Lorraine. She will cut my balls off if I give her this.
The Doctor said that it might be food poisoning or it might be a bug. He is not sure. I went through everything that I ate and drank on Saturday (Egg and Bacon sandwich from New Street Station, Meat Pizza from the High Street in Kingsbury in London, Orange Juice from the M&S at New Street Station). He was very interested in the Egg and Bacon sandwich and started using words like "Incubator" and "Salmonella" and "Could kill you". Great. I did point out that a guy at work last week was off for a day or two with a dicky stomach and that most likely I got it from him, because he came back to work too early. The Doctor seemed faintly disappointed at that.
Anyway. Enough illness. You OK? Yes? Good.
Where was I? Oh, yes. On Thursday night we went to see Johnny Mathis.
Johnny Mathis is 71 years old. He looks great. I'd have put his age at mid 40's, but he does move like a 71 year old. Slowly, hesitantly and a bit doddery. It didn't matter a jot because that voice is what mattered. That voice... Wow!
Total class gig. Absolute class from start to end. Brilliant singing and a brilliant orchestra. (Yes, this was an Orchestra and not a Band. A Band is four or five spotty teenagers wearing jeans singing about their drug habits. In this context there can be no mistaking that this was an Orchestra and not a Band). Lorraine's Mom used to be a big fan of Johnny Mathis. She saw him in concert many times. She used to tell me that you needed to give Johnny Mathis time when he performed live; that he was incredibly shy and would physically grow in confidence and stature as the concert unfolded. She was right.
Let me tell you some of the songs he did.
"Stone In Love With You", "Misty", "Stranger In Paradise" (my Dad's favourite song of all time, fact fans), "That Certain Smile", "You Make Me Feel Brand New", "Secret Love", "Look At Me", "Stardust", "Moon River" and many, many more. Jazz, Blues, Ballads, R&B, Brazilian and Spanish workouts. The encore was, of course, "When A Child Is Born".
I'm really glad that I went to see Johnny Mathis. Like I felt when I saw Andy Williams a couple of years back (another really good gig), it was an experience and I would see him again. Something different from what I would normally go to see.
My next gig is the Ordinary Boys. Hey! It all goes down the same way.
A word or two about Johnny Mathis' support act. It was a comedian. His name was Tucker (no first name) and he was awful. He was so awful he was kind of beyond awful.
Some jokes for you.
"I was in bed with a girl. She said I was well endowed. I told her, you're pulling my leg!"
Like that? OK, here's another one.
"I once went out with a girl. She had beautiful blonde hair, all down her back. No hair on her head. All down her back."
Or how about...
"I once went out with a girl who had a lazy eye. I kept worrying that she might be seeing somebody else on the side."
And the classic...
"I once went out with a girl. I said how much I liked her blue tights. She said she wasn't wearing any tights. They were her varicose veins!"
He went down a storm. Except for a pair of foxy ladies sitting three rows in front of us, Lorraine and I were the youngest people in that audience by about 20 years. Perhaps it is a generational thing. I remember when the biggest comedians on British TV were people like Bernard Manning and Freddie Starr.
My stomach is hurting me. A good point to stop.
(No! Come back! I promise this will not take too long. I'll get all the vomiting, shitting, feeling sick, headache, no appetite, no energy bit out of the way first. I promise I will.)
So, yes. I am ill again. I went to the Doctor's this morning and he has signed me off until Thursday. I have tablets to try to stop the explosive diarrhoea and I have a bit of plastic that I need to stick up my arse to get a stool sample, when the urge strikes me to have a poo. That urge hasn't struck this afternoon, which is a surprise in itself. Since Saturday night I estimate that I have been to the toilet 18 times, accompanied by my stomach making comedy noises every time. On one occasion I used the bed in lieu of being able to get to the toilet. At this Lorraine raised an eyebrow, said, "I'll change the bed" and did it without another word while I stood shamefaced to one side. Now, that it real love.
I have banished myself to the back bedroom. I definitely do not want to give this to Lorraine. She will cut my balls off if I give her this.
The Doctor said that it might be food poisoning or it might be a bug. He is not sure. I went through everything that I ate and drank on Saturday (Egg and Bacon sandwich from New Street Station, Meat Pizza from the High Street in Kingsbury in London, Orange Juice from the M&S at New Street Station). He was very interested in the Egg and Bacon sandwich and started using words like "Incubator" and "Salmonella" and "Could kill you". Great. I did point out that a guy at work last week was off for a day or two with a dicky stomach and that most likely I got it from him, because he came back to work too early. The Doctor seemed faintly disappointed at that.
Anyway. Enough illness. You OK? Yes? Good.
Where was I? Oh, yes. On Thursday night we went to see Johnny Mathis.
Johnny Mathis is 71 years old. He looks great. I'd have put his age at mid 40's, but he does move like a 71 year old. Slowly, hesitantly and a bit doddery. It didn't matter a jot because that voice is what mattered. That voice... Wow!
Total class gig. Absolute class from start to end. Brilliant singing and a brilliant orchestra. (Yes, this was an Orchestra and not a Band. A Band is four or five spotty teenagers wearing jeans singing about their drug habits. In this context there can be no mistaking that this was an Orchestra and not a Band). Lorraine's Mom used to be a big fan of Johnny Mathis. She saw him in concert many times. She used to tell me that you needed to give Johnny Mathis time when he performed live; that he was incredibly shy and would physically grow in confidence and stature as the concert unfolded. She was right.
Let me tell you some of the songs he did.
"Stone In Love With You", "Misty", "Stranger In Paradise" (my Dad's favourite song of all time, fact fans), "That Certain Smile", "You Make Me Feel Brand New", "Secret Love", "Look At Me", "Stardust", "Moon River" and many, many more. Jazz, Blues, Ballads, R&B, Brazilian and Spanish workouts. The encore was, of course, "When A Child Is Born".
I'm really glad that I went to see Johnny Mathis. Like I felt when I saw Andy Williams a couple of years back (another really good gig), it was an experience and I would see him again. Something different from what I would normally go to see.
My next gig is the Ordinary Boys. Hey! It all goes down the same way.
A word or two about Johnny Mathis' support act. It was a comedian. His name was Tucker (no first name) and he was awful. He was so awful he was kind of beyond awful.
Some jokes for you.
"I was in bed with a girl. She said I was well endowed. I told her, you're pulling my leg!"
Like that? OK, here's another one.
"I once went out with a girl. She had beautiful blonde hair, all down her back. No hair on her head. All down her back."
Or how about...
"I once went out with a girl who had a lazy eye. I kept worrying that she might be seeing somebody else on the side."
And the classic...
"I once went out with a girl. I said how much I liked her blue tights. She said she wasn't wearing any tights. They were her varicose veins!"
He went down a storm. Except for a pair of foxy ladies sitting three rows in front of us, Lorraine and I were the youngest people in that audience by about 20 years. Perhaps it is a generational thing. I remember when the biggest comedians on British TV were people like Bernard Manning and Freddie Starr.
My stomach is hurting me. A good point to stop.
# posted by Pynchon @ 5:15 pm 
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