Steve's Online Diary
Copyright Comeuppance Ltd. 2002 - 2012 This diary may not be reproduced in whole or part without permission.
New photo shoot with Mike Callow in the north-west. Think maybe we got something quite special this time. We have decided to print the collected on-line diaries in paperback form for the Spring UK dates, to sell as merchandise.
Maybe one of those pix is the front cover. Got a couple of Mick Rock's from New York to consider, too. What to call the book?160 pages going back to 2000, right up to date (well, up to end March, say, when the printer needs final copy).
DIARY 09/02/08Spent Sunday in Biggleswade. Had to have a good reason. Recorded "The Coast Of Amalfi" as a duet with Belgian classical singer Hans Peter Janssens. HP sings it in Italian, I in English with the occasional Italian phrase slipped in. He has a fabulous voice, a deep tenor, close to baritone. Leading man in Les Miserables at the moment - until June. Get there before he ends his run. It's still an amazing show, and HP is perfect. "La Costa Di Amalfi" will be released in April, in Belgium, Holland and Germany. There will be downloads available via iTunes or whatever. HP has recorded "Sebastian", also in Italian. The translation makes it very pretty and deeply romantic. The language is, of course, musical, and my wee song has taken on yet another new guise. In fact, "Sebastian" will be out first, in April they say, with "La Costa....." to come later.
DIARY 25/01/08I am squeamish. A drop of blood, I can handle. Even watched the German pathologist/anatomist, Dr Gunther, sawing cadavers in half, and then into pieces on TV. Saw him decapitate one. But "saw" is the key word here. They were dead bodies. Cold. Frozen. Felt no pain. I could not stay in a room where, even on TV, a living person was being given the "saw" treatment. They may be sleeping, deep under anaesthetic, but they are alive. And I feel their pain. My wife is not like that. She has the stomach for it. Our friend, Juliet, is a major player at the National Hospital For Neurology And Neurosurgery in London and, she being friends with a surgeon or three, the occasional invitation to sit-in, actually to stand-in and watch from over the surgeon's shoulder during complicated, life-threatening/saving brain surgery, comes our way. It comes our way because Mrs Harley has herself studied Anatomy and Physiology, and they trust her not to faint. She's just home from a six hour operation involving the removal of a tennis ball-sized chunk - yes, tennis ball-sized! - of a man's brain. Epilepsy was his problem. Major problem. And, God willing, now his life will be considerably improved. I know perfectly well the skill involved in such a piece of surgical theatre, and am myself living proof of such skills (orthopaedic, not neurological, of course), but you won't be seeing me in there while they perform. The boys with the white coats would be summoned before the poor patient laid out before me had even had a chance to get settled in ga-ga land.
DIARY 22/01/08Silverjet to New York. Their dedicated terminal at Luton makes check-in a shoe-in. Bags decanted and croissants warm. Relaxed. Rare these days at airports. Taking your shoes off, and all that kerfuffle. Understandable, of course, but what a palaver. Airside, I'm usually ok. But this private lounge is the way to do it. Chasing MaxJet now for return of the ¬£1300 of my money they held when they went belly-up on Christmas Eve. Were due to depart 16th, so booked tickets for Tom Stoppard's play, "Rock 'n' Roll" for next night, but Silverjet could not carry us until that day, 17th, so sat with heavy lids, barely able to stay awake throughout the entire, very long first act. Truth is, we left at the interval, if only to spare our neighbours in the dress circle any nuisance that may have incurred if sleep had got the better of either of us.
DIARY 04/01/08To the BUPA hospital in Brentwood, Essex for full health check. Results astounding. Cholesterol fine, especially considering the amount of wine I consume. Blood pressure normal; all the usual problems associated with men of a certain age apparently being kept at bay. Don't feel I get much exercise when not touring, and then it's all on stage, sweating like melting wax hour upon hour under megawatts of lighting. The exercise bike gets the occasional battering. Maybe 6 or 7 kilometers in a session twice or week, say. I hear that many men are somewhat averse to the prostate test, but I found it no hardship, as the doctor was a pretty Italian woman, no more than 30 years old. Then she told me off over the wine consumption, suggesting that a glass and a half a day/night was best if a man is to maintain good health. More like a bottle and a half, most nights, I said. The lecture, never patronising, but pretty stern, that followed gave cause for a little consideration, and I have been trying to keep to the one bottle - that's only, what, 5 or 6 glasses for heaven's sake.....hardly makes me a lush. But it goes down so easily once you start. So I've been trying to delay the start, and to stop, go to bed, a little earlier. I'd never take alcohol to the bedroom; conscience would never permit. Just a good book: Steve Martin's autobiography is making me laugh out loud, and the memories are good, as I saw his Live act in the mid-70s, at the beginning of his stand-up success. Was in Las Vegas. He was support act to the Aussie woman who sang "Angie Baby". It'll come to me.....brain cells burnt from all the Chardonnay and claret, I suppose. Martin was hilarious. The Brits in the audience at the MGM Grand hotel, that means the 9 of us on a Capitol Records shindig out of Los Angeles (the singer was one of their acts) were near to collapse at his balloon animal gags and stories of ill-treatment towards his own ageing mother. Everyone should be familiar with most of that stuff by now, but at the time, when fresh, it was original and wild. "Wild and crazy guy", that was his Live album. Hilarious. Still can't think of that singer's name. Hope she doesn't read other people's on-line diaries. Feel this would insult her. It'll come to me.......Happy new year.
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