Hallo Spleen

Okay, okay, I know.

I keep promising that I’ll ‘write again soon’- I really mean it at the time, and then despite a gnawing guilt, it gets to about a month before I update. To be fair, I am usually at miltchat with my leuka community so I am very much Net-present, but I don’t like to see digital cobwebs here- particularly with my stats report telling me that this place still gets daily bona fide visits.

“What have I been up to?” I hear you earnestly inquire- (although, in fact you are rather quiet today). Well..

My 2 days a week ‘Research’ at the Royal Academy has overflowed, but its all good clean creative fun so I’m happy. I also have 3 jazz guitar pupils at the Royal College of Music, a real treat. I have a couple of commissions at the moment for my composition work- love it, more please. My PhD is progressing faster than I feel I deserve, I have even been given an estimated due date for completion(July 2008). Considering I started in Jan 2004 (with a full-time job) and then had the little matter of acute leukaemia and a bone-marrow transplant in the middle of it, I think this is pretty good going. Of course it will mean so much when the air-stewardess desperately calls for a doctor on board, and I treat the suffering man with a very therapeutic lecture on rhythmic analysis.

I have another EGO concert in the diary. 18th March 2007 at the Guildford Music Festival. My trio Rat Park will also be performing that week. If you come along I might even talk to you if I’m not too busy being hoisted up on the shoulders of the townsfolk and being paraded jubilantly around Ye Olde Guildford. (That was for my American friends)

Health-wise, my visits have dwindled to a 3-monthly trickle, where I discover that my blood counts are perfect (other than that pesky-never-above-12.5-HgB) I almost forget how ill I was. Almost. So I do my best to look after myself, don’t drink, don’t smoke & now crack cocaine only on weekends (Ho-ho) I even gave up cappuccino (seriously) in a fit of masochistic bravado. I do a weight-training program 3 days a week, and cycle, run, or go for a long stridey walk. I eat the right things to, apart from the other night when Bridget and I had an utterly deborturous (can’t spell that one) KFC attack. The guilt is yet to pass but oh, heavenly temptations…

I seem to live a life of to-do lists. Okay 3 hours till that, I can do this, this and that. Although I never quite feel that I’m actually doing anything, always just about to. Maybe I need to improve my ‘Me-Here-Now’ thing as Bridget would wisely advise. Speaking of Bridget, she continues to do wonderful things, while thinking she is doing nothing, she is in a new all-girl Blues-Rock band (details to follow) and has become some what of a lovey hanging out with all sorts of celebs. She also ‘desperately needed’ a pair of very expensive sexy black boots from Russell & Bromley a couple of weeks ago, although I note they are still in the box- so emergency averted, I guess. But yes, she is very cool.

Monkey is quite clingy at the moment and if I am too self-absorbed to give him the attention he deserves he has thaken to a) Standing on my open laptop b) Emitting a haunting elongated whiney noise c) Standing on our favourite clothes or an important document and doing a cat impersonation of Michael Jackson’s ‘Moonwalk’ move from the Billie Jean performance at the Motown award ceremony.

Well there was some quantity (in the absence of wit and profundity) So I’ll leave you there. I promise I’ll update really soon. Ahem.

As an added bonus for reading all this, I will treat you to a work of genius (I sometimes use the word lightly)

Courtesy of a chap called Jeff Brechlin, this is the Hokey Pokey as it would have sounded in the work of Shakespeare…. Take care and oh, it’s halloween so I’m gonna dress up like Derek Acorah from ‘Most Haunted’ and pretend to be possessed with a scouse accent. Just like he does. Milt xxx

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within

Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.

Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:

Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.

Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke,

A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.

To spin! A wilde release from Heavens yoke.

Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.

The Hoke, the poke — banish now thy doubt

Verily, I say, ’tis what it’s all about.

— by “William Shakespeare”

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