I recently had a situation which I must point out is not age related. No not at all. Anyhow I had a call of nature which required navigating my way from bed to toilet in fairly short order. Whilst I had, admittedly, partaken in a gin based refreshment earlier in the evening that is also unrelated. No not at all. The upshot is that there was an unfortunate incident involving bedroom furniture and related paraphernalia resulting in what I assume to be a broken toe and a broken rib(s). The bruises don't lie. By happy happenstance I have rediscovered the 'joy' of codeine as a pain relief method (sourced via the local pharmacy). Good stuff. I am reminded of this tune in my essentially pain free state. Pretty sure my vinyl version of this had what we used to call a 'closed groove' which meant that it kept playing over and over until somebody could be arsed to get up and take it off the turntable. That could be anywhere between five minutes and five hours, depending.
They were strange times.
Here's another guaranteed to upset those of a 'nervous disposition '
Codeine is a good pain reliever, no doubt, although we are obviously not suggesting that it be used for recreational purposes. That said my local shop has Nigerian Guiness back in stock and despite all protestations to the contrary I have been conducting a small experiment which combines the two. Turns out that I thought I was spending a rare Saturday off work but in fact have been transported to Stonehenge free festival and am currently listening to Hawkwind sound checking before their headline slot this evening. And its only May.
Funniest thing I ever heard at Stonehenge was a buddy who I was with, after some time spent soaking in the atmosphere, confided in me that he no longer remembered what his mum looked like. It doesn't sound like much of a joke but I laughed for the next two or three days solid. The moral of the tale is don't do drugs people.
Except under supervision
My memories of Stonhenge festivals don't involve much of the involvement of anything other than white middle class rebels. Shit happens. Pretty sure if it had been all encompassing there could have been much more engagement with folks who were 'other' to them. I remember going in to the local village/town where they had signs saying "No festival goers" or alternatively "festival goers welcome" in a sort of "no dogs, no blacks, no Irish" way.
But - there's no future in nostalgia
There is very little new under the sun.
My irritability keeps me alive and kicking