Walked in the cold air
Freezing breath on a window pane
Lying and waiting
A man in the dark in a picture frame
So mystic and soulful
The warmth of your hand
And a cold grey sky
It fades to the distance
The feeling has gone only you and I
It means nothing to me
This means nothing to me
Oh, Vienna
Ultravox – July 1980
Central Europe. December. It’s a long time since I’ve been here, and the feeling has eluded me recently, but perhaps it’s never quite gone away.
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Early morning, November ’04
Shot rings out in the Fallujah sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride
In the name of love
What more in the name of love ?
Adapted from ‘Pride’ (‘The Unforgettable Fire’, Island Records – October 1984)
With apologies to U2 and the Rest of the World.
No, I didn’t run today.
Today’s workout: 4 x shame, 3 x guilt, 2 x despair, depression intervals.
Multiple repetitions.
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Posted in 2004, divided by an ocean, Iraq, music
Amongst bizarrely balanced nutritional regimes, this particular Dr Feelgood diet must score almost as highly as Eric Clapton’s lyrical blend of peaches and diesel. But it’s a much more innovative non-runner’s recipe which I’ve been following this week, my own newly-patented formula of Champagne-and-Ibuprofen.
Posted in 2004, life and times, London, music
I know it’s out of fashion and a trifle uncool
But I can’t help it, I’m a romantic fool
It’s a habit of mine to watch the sun go down
On Echo Beach, I watch the sun go down.
Martha and the Muffins – February 1980
It’s a cold and blustery June evening, beside a deserted beach somewhere in Northern England. Far out to the west, the sun is setting beyond the receding tides, as the Irish Sea is whipping itself up into a swift herd of white horses. The weather doesn’t look that good for tomorrow, but it’ll be far too late to worry then. For when I see this spot again in the morning, it’ll be at the 23 mile mark of the Blackpool Marathon.
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Posted in 2004, music, racing, the marathon journey
Kicking down the cobblestones on a warm and sultry morning, there are just a few marble steps to climb ahead. And already, blue sky is rent by cool bronze metal, still tepid in the hazy sunshine across the river. From here at the Trocadero, the Eiffel Tower stands framed amidst the Champs de Mars. The green baize stretches far into the sun, with only the black morning menace of the Montparnasse Tower revealing the modern face of the golden city beyond.
If a million strands are bound together to make a life, then the thread of Paris runs through much of mine. Continue reading
Posted in 2004, A1 - the best of roads of stone, France, music, Paris
Today is gonna be the day
That they’re gonna throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you gotta do
Oasis – October 1995
Play: Wonderwall — Oasis
http://www.musicwebtown.com/roadsofstone/playlists/20008/164233.mp3%20
Some day you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supercity in the sky
Oasis – October 1995
How can you make up for a lifetime of neglect ? Certainly neglect is what it had amounted to. Malign intent there hadn’t been, but the effect was the same either way. That was a thought to occupy me, as I joined the motorway at 5 am on Sunday morning, with a very long drive ahead and far too little sleep behind me. But I had to make amends, and this was the only way to do it.
Because for forty years and more, and I’m ashamed to admit it now, I’d just never been to Manchester.
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