Exhibition at Year's End

www.goodaboom.com


So, a beautifully sunny final day of the year, and Miki and I were up early and off to prepare the Street Gallery for the brave souls out for a stroll on this fine Sunday morning. And great in number they were too. The gallery was busy for most of the day, with the weird and wonderful cross-section of society we have come to know and love during our time there. However, my good early morning mood was shattered by a diabolical discovery. The previous week, I had left my self-designed and illustrated Drain cover in place over the drain in the street. (It helps combat the somewhat less than Twentieth Century Spanish attempts at Sewage Odour control) Of course, I worried little, secure in the knowledge that such a trifling object would not figure high on the list of the vagabonds and thieves of Albir. But I thought wrong. It had been stolen! I was apopleptic with rage! How dare they! I know it was a rather beautiful black and luminous yellow striped object, and I had had the foresight to sign it, but...REALLY! I'm, not vindictive, but I hope the drugs the miscreant who stole it managed to obtain with the (I'm sure not inconsiderable)sum of money from it's sale, were contaminated and that he died a horrible death in some backstreet gutter with a needle in his arm. I can't say fairer than that, can I?
On a lighter, and entirely unconnected note, a couple of old Norwegian ladies spent some time examining the paintings and I engaged them in conversation. I asked where they were from, and they answered, "Oh,the North". I get this often, particularly with Scandinavians. I spent two years living and working in Denmark, Norway Sweden and Finland, and have played in virtually every town in Norway and Denmark you care to name.
Most assume, understandably, that people will only be aware of Oslo, if that.
I coaxed them further.."Bodo" they replied. "Ah! I lived there for a month!" I exclaimed. Scarcely regaining their composure, they asked the only sensible question,"why?" I went on to explain my days there in a band, and that I had also performed for their Queen. They left quite shell-shocked, I think, after inviting me to their home the next time I am there.
In any event, later that day, we found an unlikely ally in the form of a Belgian chap who walks his dog past the Gallery every Sunday. He sympathised greatly with our Drain cover loss, and was extremely vociferous about his hatred of Spanish Sewage and Drainage, he even offered a dubiously festive and quite frankly bonkers form of reprisal...receding down the street, dog in tow, he shouted, "Send the three wise men to the council with 25 bombs!" Yes, I thought. That would do it. would they be made of Gold, Frankincense, or Myrrh?

A Happy Ending: Well, this morning, the first day of 2007, and my beloved drain cover has miraculously reappeared in Miki's computer.(see photo)Apparently they haven't quite succeeded in putting out the fire at the Council House yet.....