candlelight
Tue 2nd May, 2006
On Sunday morning, I made use of the Ford Fiesta Fashion and drove to the village of Handcross,Sussex, to visit friends and generally be middle class and irritating for about 36 hours. On the way down the M23, Jenny and I listened to Smooth FM, which resides on the 102.2 frequency but occasionally gets blasted out of the way by vigorously pumping pirate radio stations when you're in the Shepherds Bush area. But anyway, Smooth FM is a pretty good source of Smooth, although they sometimes spoil it by playing Al Jarreau. Although many of you, I imagine, probably figure that Al Jarreau and The Doobie Brothers are two sides of the same coin. But you're wrong. So, so wrong.
I've been listening to a lot of sickeningly smooth music lately, as research for a 7-part radio show I've got on Resonance FM starting in July or so. "Feel Like Makin' Love", sung Roberta Flack but written by Eugene McDaniels (presumably before his social consciousness kicked in and he wrote "Headless Heroes Of The Apocalypse"), is an incredible piece of poetry.
Anyway, we incurred the wrath of some cows:
They may look docile, but man, were they making a racket. Then, later in the evening, games were played, one of which involved me having to draw on a piece of paper, with a biro, an image which represented the film "101 Dalmatians", while other people on my team had to guess what on earth I was doing. The hideous stegosaurus-type creature which I ended up drawing only yielded a correct guess after I repeatedly slammed the point of the biro in its side to create many dots, which were blue and not black, and eventually drew a speech bubble saying "Woof" in direct contravention of the rules of the game. My team, needless to say, lost.
I've been listening to a lot of sickeningly smooth music lately, as research for a 7-part radio show I've got on Resonance FM starting in July or so. "Feel Like Makin' Love", sung Roberta Flack but written by Eugene McDaniels (presumably before his social consciousness kicked in and he wrote "Headless Heroes Of The Apocalypse"), is an incredible piece of poetry.
When you talk to me, when you're moanin' sweet and low(Presumably not the dream Jenny had the other night about cooking repeatedly unsuccessful omelettes.) The line that made me splutter, however, was holdin' hands by candlelight. You see, the thing is, you don't hold hands by candlelight. You might hold hands in the candlelight. You read by candlelight, because you need the gently flickering flame to illuminate the words on the page. You only hold hands by candlelight if you specifically need assistance to locate your partner's hands, because as most of us with partners are aware, you can usually find these at the end of their arms. Those who need candlelight to guide them towards the fingers of their loved one probably aren't ready for makin' love to anyone. Get some simple biology classes in, first.
When you're touching me and my feelings start to show
Oo-ooh, that's the time I feel like makin' love to you
That's the time I feel like makin' dreams come true
Anyway, we incurred the wrath of some cows:
They may look docile, but man, were they making a racket. Then, later in the evening, games were played, one of which involved me having to draw on a piece of paper, with a biro, an image which represented the film "101 Dalmatians", while other people on my team had to guess what on earth I was doing. The hideous stegosaurus-type creature which I ended up drawing only yielded a correct guess after I repeatedly slammed the point of the biro in its side to create many dots, which were blue and not black, and eventually drew a speech bubble saying "Woof" in direct contravention of the rules of the game. My team, needless to say, lost.