Gonna write a classic
Gonna write it in an attic
- Adrian Gurvitz
[Ha HA! You weren't expecting that, were you?]
When I was a little kid I wasn't afraid of the dark. I liked pitch blackness and complete silence to lull me to sleep. Bloody Ern said I even used to come stomping out from my bedroom and ask everyone to keep the noise down. But then in the post-Dyzie days my traumatised little soul responded by developing a rip-roaring fear of the dark. Ern was most understanding and each night for months on end he would sit by my bed and hold my hand until I'd nodded off. (I told you he was the best.)
And that fear of the dark never really left me. It was kind of embarrassing as an adult to know that whenever Grumpy was away I'd be coming home in the evenings to announce at the front door, "Alright, rapists, murderers...and...er...boogie monsters...I know you're here so now's your last chance to GET OUT!" Well, that certainly showed them. But here's the thing: since Grumpy moved out my fear of the dark has evaporated. Just like that! I don't even turn any lights on when I come home late at night. I LOVE walking around my house in the dark.
So I let all this new-found fearlessness and maturity go to my head this week and I cracked open The Virago Book of Ghost Stories. Shiver. This collection, all women authors of course, wasn't overly creepy to read but the ladies sure know how to create a chilling after-effect. The problem is, you don't realise it until you're walking down the hallway in the dark and you jump at a noise somewhere off to the side of you, or was it behind you? It doesn't matter, just sprint for the bed. And then down at the beach, in the daylight savings dark, you hear a noise in the bushes. Listen, what was that? There it is again! What is it??? It's just something caught on a branch and flapping in the wind...or is it?
You see what I mean.
Probably I just need to grow up a bit. But then what would I have to talk about?
Dancing in the City - Marshall Hain [I've loved this song since I was eight years old. Whenever I hear it I get a happy eight-year-old feeling. Whatever that is.]
Fuming Out! - Custard
Run On for a Long Time - Blind Boys of Alabama
It Was a Good Day - Ice Cube
Rachel Cooper - The Bedridden