15 August 2013


Wonderful relaxed evening last night courtesy of Maria and Jim Potts.

  • Groaning board at the Dasia Beach Hotel, dancing waiters keeping platter and goblet filled - new friends I never properly got round to .... so let me focus on the pleasure and honour of meeting sonic archaeologist, Christopher King et famille. (That's him yonder in Wellesian pose oozing mystery and erudition.) 
  • Mama, I'll be long gone. Reminds me of  a cartoon I saw of a prim school marm correcting song titles - 'You aren't anything but a hound dog', 'It isn't worth a thing if it doesn't have that swing'. In this case, a gallant oatesian, "Mother, I may be some time."
  • Sylvester Weaver - the first solo finger-picked guitar ever recorded.
  • Professore King is a man on to whom to keep a close, rewarded eye.
  • Lord have mercy, I do love the name Angry Mom records. 
  • Five days married and other Laments.

Read a bit about Christopher. I have more to say but my blog is a bit ... um, 'erratic' these days, so I'll keep it clean and family reading.

Speaking of family, we were joined by two charming and ebullient young ladies (plus kitten of the house who was much mauled and fondled)

If I was a true Lomaxian field researcher I'd've had my trusty Uher handy to record King  fille ('Henhouse, a splendid nickname, below, right) who was in fine form, singing lustily of lost love not to mention a modest autobiographical ditty. 

A happy evening, good for my soul. More to follow, I suspect.

Tuesday 13th - I couldn't have been paying attention during the meal because when Alexandra expanded my knowledge by telling me it was unlucky for the Greeks, I thought she was just educating me - not alerting us all to three days hence.
Assis de la fenêtre dans ma chambre,Je te regarde t'en aller,aussi loin que je peux,Que je peux ma cherie. tu preferes t'en aller, T'en aller et me quitter, m'quitter moi tout seul dans tout la misère; Ne croyais pas que j'te disais go, pourquoi t'en aller, t'en aller pour toujours,J'croyais pas ma chère qu'il faudra que j't'abandonne après t'en aller T'en aller pour toujours, lacher petite main qui me pressait la mienne En me disant good bye, good bye pour toujours.



Simon Baddeley said...

Είμαι ζηλιάρης. I miss the Potts even tho' we only met a few times, it was good knowing they were on the island. Now don't you go and leave. S

Anonymous said...

Nice post, thanks- Riley likes to see herself online. Too short trip. We are leaving for Vitsa tomorrow. Contact info? Charmagne

Corfucius said...

busker@gmail finds me. thanks for commenting.
ah, it's a classy charlemagne mix rather than charmaine. i'd say you've become accustomed to leaping in before the desk clerk reaches the 2nd 'a' and whipping in that 'g'. you could, i suppose, go "charmagne - 'g' not 'i'" but it'd take a *very* fast ear not to go "I'm sorry?"
whoa - this coming close to the first essay i've written as a comment.