Nothing much has happened today, so I’ve nothing to tell you. Not that it will stop me talking of course, because very little does that.
I went back to the garage this morning, as they wanted to check the car 500 miles after its repair. I took the paper and sat and read for a bit – it only took 15 minutes or so. I listened to Mark as he answered the telephone – he’s very good, you know. Pitches it just right, friendly without being over-familiar and genuinely helpful – not obsequious, nor just going through the motions.
After that, I spent the day in the shop. Very busy this morning, quite a rush. I served most of the customers, as Eileen was busy tidying up, but she helped when the queue built up. She was a bit tetchy in fact, as she reckoned there were untidy areas behind the tills. Yes, so there were – it was busy on Saturday too, and Al was on his own all afternoon and I expect that, by the time 6.30 came and he’d cashed up and all, he rather wanted to go home, after 10 hours solid work with no lunch break. Smiling throughout and all…
I arrived home to find an email from El, ‘casually’ mentioning their anniversary – too late to email her at work, so I’ve just rung. They haven’t checked their answerphone messages yet, I’ve assured her she’ll find a good one from her father. And also that an envelope will arrive during the week. She was good-natured about our lapse of memory: as I explained, it was not that we forgot the date, just applied it to the wrong offspring. The reason for the title of this post is that I can remember I noted it in a year’s time and check.
I remembered to take my iPod with me, and as soon as Eileen left I turned off Rad10 Br0adland and turned it on, with the amplifier thingy. When I forget that, I have to unplug it from my ears when a customer comes in. I listened to Brahms clarinet quintet and Chopin’s piano concertos, and then some Sidney Bechet. Customers remarked (are you reading this Al?*) how much more enjoyable the music was today than usual. The Geoff came in and, for some reason, started to talk about Jimi Hendrix – “Have you heard of him?” Goodness, he must think I’m young. I twiddled a bit and found some for him. “Ooh, that’s a bit loud”, he said.
Actually, on Saturday morning, Rad10 Br0adland had a first. “I’ve got that! That’s never happened before” I said. “Are they improving their quality, by any chance?” “You listen to Evanescence?” asked Sarah (you could see she was impressed, well, she’s at an impressionable age. I said that I do. “Mind you,” I added, “when Ro heard it, he asked why … ‘a bit teenage Goth, isn’t it?’ he said.” I was, I declared, unabashed. I like it.
*I know the answer – it’s no.
I listened to Mark as he answered the telephone – he’s very good, you know. Pitches it just right, friendly without being over-familiar and genuinely helpful
Mark…hmmm…is that the chap you accidentally called Loverman, or similar?
I called him ‘love’, Dandelion. In an entirely maternal way, naturally. Because I am both naturally affectionate and completely proper.
However, I’m glad to see you have been paying attention
did you ever tell us what you thought of Zero 7? I recall you ordering that CD a while back.
what else is in your ipod?
I love Zero 7, Jen. Takes me to a different place – and I think of you when I listen to it.
There’s a lot of stuff on my iPod. Checking my iTunes list, 17 different genres (though I’m not sure how ‘country’ or ‘easy listening’ got there). A lot of classical stuff, a lot of (mostly old) jazz. Recommendations from friends are enjoyed too – I’ve expanded my listening range, thanks to various blogfriends.
The most recent albums I bought were ‘Love You Just the Same’ by Centro-Matic and Brahams clarinet sonata, trio and quintet. And I’m confident of getting Okkervil River’s latest for my birthday!
Having been told for 25 years by my ex that I’m tone-deaf, the organist at yesterday’s funeral told me I’m not, when I sang her the first verse of the hymn she didn’t know, so that she could see which of the two tunes in the book was the right one.
Nothing to do with your post, except I put it all down to my new MP3 player.
we certainly are more enlightened nowadays as far as making life more pleasant. Why did we never think of playing music in my shop? It would have been therapeutic for staff and customers alike.
Dave, I believed for years that I couldn’t sing, but it’s all a matter of confidence I expect. If you sing very quietly it’s harder to hold a tune. A friend of mine, ordained a couple of years ago, used to have a weak singing voice but now she has to use it she has forced herself to act as if she can, and she has a lovely tuneful voice. Good for your MP3 player. And for you.
The Sage can’t hold a tune at all, bless him, but I wouldn’t tell him so. It would make him self-conscious and not be useful at all.
As long as it’s good music, Pat! The sort of muzak they play in department stores is painful.
If you think I’m worried about singing in public, you really ought to read my blog post for August 10th 2005 – It’s here, I hope
Crumbs! I think that is a question of not knowing your limitations and so not accepting when something is way, way beyond them The verse of Rule Britannia is almost impossible.
I’m vastly impressed, and also completely agree about the persona one puts on if one needs to.
Nothing like good music in the background. Though emphasis on good. I agree muzak can hurt the mind sometimes.
I;ve got some country on mine… Laura Cantrell, she’s fantastic. Well, her first album is – one of the best debuts I can remember. She has wit and warmth, and a real ear for a great lyric. If you’re good, you might get some.
I’ve been quite bad, to be honest, Badgerdaddy. But not in a way you’d disapprove of, I’m sure…