A Way With Women.

I've been single for a while now. Not counting, but a while. I imagine that when you hear most people say that, it's a complaint. Not from me, though.

The thing is, I have dreadful taste in women. They're mostly nice people (mostly), but put me in a relationship with them and they turn into mentalists. It could be a lot to do with how I meet them, in bars and at gigs. People thrown together by drink are destined to be combustible, I suppose. But really, it's my fault. If there's a woman in a room that can really mess me around, treat me like shit, and break my heart, I'll find her. Then I'll buy her a drink.

Woody Allen had a phrase for the kind of woman I go for: Kamikaze Women. Because they're not just self destructive, they take the man out with them.

There was a good one, once upon a time. I'm not naming names, but she's only one who gets away blame-free. It was all my fault, and I'm not crass enough to blame it on the booze. She was a special woman, and it'll take a special woman to replace her. Or a shitload of average ones.

So yes, I'm happily single. That's not to say I don't get lonely sometimes, but in the long run, it's for the best. If it's a toss-up between occasional loneliness and constant full-blown heartache, I'll take the former.

Chin up,

Tom.

Why do I bother?

If you're a musician, you probably hear the same sentence as me from time to time.

"When are you going to get a real job?".

I suspect this also applies to writers, artists, and other creative types. But I can't be sure. Still, I know from experience that I hear it. Let's move on. When am I going to get a proper job?

It gets me thinking, this question. I've always felt that music was not something I chose, but something that chose me. Perhaps I'm too pretentious for my own good. But it's true. I certainly didn't get into it to make a shitload of money. I didn't get into it for fame or glory. I got into it because it spoke to me, and allowed me to express myself, in an un-tangible but beautiful way. It's not a job, it's a calling.

So try this: Next time you're in a pub/club/bar/cafe and someone's playing their own songs, take the time and listen. It'll mean more to them than shouting "Sweet home Alabama/Mustang Sally/ Oasis" at them. If they have a CD, buy it. Trust me, before you know it, you'll end up with a bagful of lovely new music, and you'll have given someone some hope. If those songs eventually mean something to you, or that musician becomes a friend, it's worth it.

Real job? Keep it.

Tom.

I Like Language.

It's true, I do. I have many favourite words. You might say I'm a dedicated sesquipedalian

"Absquatulate". That's a blinder. "Pontificate" too, I like that one. But my real passion is unsurprisingly for foul language and filth. Not the kind you hear drunken teenagers on the bus use, but the phrases that show some wit and imagination. Examples? But of course. Do you know what a Tokyo optician is? It's a woman of loose morals, one that has seen many Japs eyes. How brilliant is that? If you're not faint of heart, look up "Changing at Baker Street", but don't say you weren't warned.

You may wonder why I'm writing this. I guess it's just something I put a lot of thought into. I'm not afraid of "bad" language, and it's been known to find its way into my songs and gigs. I don't think it needs justifying, but plenty of people do. And occasionally, those people come to me for justification. So here it is: You've got to talk to your audience the same way you would talk to your friends. Anything less is just condescending. "Condescending". That's a bloody good word.

Anyway, I'm gonna go and have a cup of Earl Grey. Do you have favourite words? Let me know.

Cheers,

Tom