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November 16th, 2015 - Echoes of Flavio's Ghost Dreaming
flavius_m
The week-end had the big shadow of the incidents in Paris over it -and the reaction of the media and of people, mainly on Twitter and Facebook (and, in one case, in person, where a friend of a friend started having a go at the refugees and the old 'there's too many of them lot over here already', as if not aware that she hadn't been talking to somebody who, albeit in very different circumstances, started life 'out there'). But all that came later.

Thursday evening I went to the Gothsluts weekly meeting, this time at the Angel in Bermondsey. A Sam Smith pub, it seemingly has many strange rules of the house that I wasn't aware of. First the Italian guy at the bar (I think he's the manager, he seemed to be in charge) stopped me short when I spoke to him in Italian, 'speake in Englishe, the customer over there (points at a customer at the bar) could think we're talking about him'. I refrained to mention that the pointing thing was more rude than any imaginary offence for not understanding what other people were saying. Rules of the company, he said.

I had gone to the pub straight from a lesson so I had a guitar. Dylan wanted to have a go so we brought the guitar out of the case -and the same Italian member of staff came and told us. We weren't allowed to make any sort of music in the house. Rules of the company, he said. Ooh kay then. The booze is cheap there, the food is cheap and ok, the view of the riverside is lovely but I don't think I'll be voting for that pub for the meetings again.

The company was excellent, though.

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flavius_m
On Friday, after lessons, there was Tufguitar, the meeting of (some of my) adult pupils at the Rustique Café to play together, as they do once a month. This went quite well, enjoyable for all people concerned with the possible exception of the couple at a nearby table who couldn't look more annoyed at us.

Saturday had more stuff happening. Our friend Nicole Raine was in town for only a couple of days, having been in Paris the night before and she and andyravensable having been rather worryingly near to the site of the tragic events of that night -a group of friends went to meet her at Garlic & Shots; it was a lovely encounter of friends old and new -but had at least three other things to go to, knowing I wouldn't be able to make more than two.

Next stop was Big Red for Federica's birthday drinks. I am not that keen on rock pubs, as I have mentioned before, but it was a good little party; being at the back of the pub mitigated somewhat the roar from the covers band at the front. From there I went to Reptile; it was Arif's and Pete Maxdmyz's birthday so I felt I had to be there. I was, and had a very good time, but also aware that I was missing out on the gig at the Slimelight, in which I had friends in two bands and would have liked to attend.

Next day, apart from a nightmarish early lesson, brought something different: my artist friend Maya Ramsey was involved in the jazz festival in the South Bank, as one of her recent works had been a wall rubbing of the wallpaper in Jimi Hendrix's London flat, flat in which G F Händel had also lived previously (like, two hundred years previously..) and she had been involved in the preparation of Traces, a show based on those wallpaper rubbings. Not a genre of music that I normally go out of my way to listen to, but a very good evening nonetheless, some interesting music, new people met and interesting conversations had.

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