Saturday, December 25, 2010


Bad news was received this week when I was told a dear friend of 40 years was in the hospital and his cancer was terminal. By the time I got the news he was essentially bedridden and unresponsive, his family in attendance for the purpose of wishing him farewell. I met him in Mr. Cisik's 9th grade English class, a friendship that was to grow and endure through the years. The pain and sleeplessness he was experiencing these last several months probably allowed him to accept his fate and embrace the coming end. One of my best friends is gone and my world has become so much smaller.

Instruments beeping
Change to a steady alarm
And with that, he's gone

Mr. Cisik asks
Two pyramids and a sphinx
A friendship for life

Bears a heavy weight
Borne with such dignity
His smile is all we see

Forty years seems long
Leaving behind a lifetime
To never hear his voice

Sides with the angels
Persuasive with the good book
Praying hands give a push

Late night Christmas Eve. Time for some music to chase away Santa Claus. First up was a short set by Snow Patrol, a live performance from Dundee, Scotland on March 13, 2006 which was broadcast on FM radio.

Download it here:

What I really was waiting for was an excellent quality soundboard recording of Public Image Limited's show at the O2 Academy in Manchester, England on December 19, 2009 while on their 2009 Reunion 'ALife' Tour. Great performance even though John Lydon was ill with the flu. At the beginning he really berates someone in the audience for throwing a beer at him while on stage. After being scolded in that fashion, I can imagine that person being very well behaved for the remainder of the show.

This was written about this particular performance:

THERE’S still a certain something about Johnny. He’s still the wilful, arrogant boy we’ve all loved down the years.

Public Image is the opening battlecry, beautiful in its anti-hero message and added to by Lydon’s beautiful riposte to someone who tried to shower him with lager: “I’ve had your money, you can go home now.’’

Draped in some kind of serge straitjacket, he is still the ultimate livewire. Too scary to be confronted by drunks on the last train home, yet articulate enough to take home to your mum. If she collects national treasures.

He billed his appearance as dubious entertainment and dwelled on the idea of turkeys before Christmas. He was correct. But he’s no pantomime dame. Yes, he is camp. Yes he had the knowing asides. And yes, we never know his real hair colour.

Read it all here:

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