A Week Off

How are you all?

I have a week off. Nothing planned, nothing to do, no one to see, just chillin'

I have to go into work on Monday to hand in my application form for the job I have been doing for the last year. They hope to have this all sorted by Christmas, and I am hopeful that they will.

Nicky, the previous PACS Administrator came back to work this week, and had her first day in PACS. She has had way more experience that I have had, and was there to set up the service. 

I hope that I can use that level of expertise to the advantage of the service, as I am bound to have made, and continue to make mistakes, in fact she pointed out one or two on Friday, which I will fix, and I am truly grateful for another set of eyes on things. 

It can't be easy for her to come into an area where she has been instrumental in setting up, to find I have moved in and changed the decor and furniture. She told me that she would rather not still be in PACS, but finance preclude her just doing MRI and general work. 

Needless to say when she speaks, I will listen hard, but ultimately I am responsible, and the final decision on anything rests with me.

Otherwise, I will use the week to sort out presents, and get in touch with those that matter to me. 

Being to far away from my family and friends, Christmas isn't a good time. I am by nature forgetful and lazy, and I hate conversing over the telephone. Hense Christmas cards don't get sent, letters don't get written, and I feel like a heel for not making the effort. 

I will try to be better this year. I also don' like the way that Christmas sneaks up on you, and suddenly you have missed the last post to the UK. Bugger

Finally, we should remember what christmas actually is all about..celebrating the birth of a Jewish pacifist who was brutally killed by being nailed to a lump of wood by a bunch of evil Italians while all his mates looked on and did nothing. Which is of course best celebrated with an obscene spending spree, drunkenness and gluttony. 

Dyspeptic? Moi?

My Mad Uncle

My first musical memory is my Dad putting on a new album on his Garrard record deck. The album was called "A Night at the Opera" by a bad called 'Queen'. Click....and that was it. The swelling piano, the angry guitars the noise building then..beautiful, powerful music, like I had never heard. 

It may well be the greatest album of all time, and has no tracks that are less than stellar. 

I wanted curly hair and one of those red guitars (I now own the guitar, but not the hair) I wanted to be as beautiful as Roger, as calm as John, as brilliant and passionate as Brian, and as mercurial as Freddy. 

I loved them all, but most of all, I wanted Freddie Mercury to be my Uncle. 

I would play every single record to death that Queen produced for the next 10 years, and I devoured every single thing Freddie wrote, was interviewed in or appeared in (though he was a very private man, and rarely gave interviews) 

He was so full of life, funny, articulate and just fun. 

My Dad told me that he was 'a poof', and late on I realised that that meant he liked having sex with men (He was actually Bisexual, his great love, Mary, spit with  him over his affairs with women. I guess he became more gay because men are easier, you can talk football after you finish fucking) 

Eventually Queen's brilliance faded, and the last 3 albums, whilst having some great tracks, also had some that were, for want of a better word, shit. Water treaders, fillers. Not  as good. 

Though at the end, they produced some great tracks ,Those Were The Days of our Lives,, 'I'm Going Slightly Mad', 'Its Late' and 'The Show Must Go On', which was number 1 the day they announced that Freddy was dead. 

Died of AIDS, caught of a Russian predatory omnisexual man whose name I forget, but allegedly did for Kenny Everett as well. 

 was devastated, my wife cried openly, and I felt that I had lost a part of what made me, me. 

Its been 17 years, but Freddie is still famous, because he has never left us, he is still a symbol of just how bright a star can be, and how much joie de vivre can be put into one man. 

Every time someone wins something, there will be 'We Are The Champions', every time someone loses 'Another One Bites the Dust' every time there is a need for awesome rock, there will be Queen.

As a ps, Freddie left all of his money, houses and royalties to Mary, who he wrote 'Love of My Life' for, and often said was the only person he ever loved. He may well have loved one person, but he was loved by millions. That surely is the definition of a successful Life.

Be Good