Tribute To Guitarist Pat Martino - Scan 03 07Anyone who has been reading this blog for a while will have noticed that I occasionally struggle for inspiration (fine..more than occasionally).   Fair enough I suppose, it happens to the best bloggers, so it is bound to happen to someone as low down the blogging chain as me…

Inspiration is a funny thing though, sometimes you see something that just hits you.   Other times you remember stuff from your past.   Occasionally, inspiration is thrust at you…like Frodos mum, who tries to sell flowers to any guy even remotely close to a woman in the Anglo most nights, shoving roses in your face with a grunt…and a suggestion of an impending curse should you fail to buy.   So when   Zs girlfriend IP complained that my Wombats post was somewhat lacking of IP activity, she suggested I write something to rectify this.   Suggested in this case in a sort of accusatory, pouty, threatening kind of way.   So with fear of a Z based beatdown….

Let me take you back to the Wombats gig.   Now, I have known Z for a while and when he informed me that his new girlfriend was coming along…I am sure you can forgive me for a certain amount of 3rd wheel trepidation.   Absolutely not the case.   Not only did they both avoid placing me in the 3rd wheel position, IP was actively involved in the stereotypical German accent’ athon.   My biggest shock though was me throwing out a random Fast Show quote and IP knew what the hell it was…and was able to respond…with one of her own.   IP was actively involved in the “showing off to 14 year olds on a train” spectacular and even went so far as to acknowledge their class and uber-coolness…by chugging half of their wine and trying to match Z by doing somersaults using the grab handles on the train.   Fast forward to the weekend and I am being taken along for drinks and to meet new people….me likey.

Spin on a little more and I am in agony with my (probably) karma induced bad back.   I will admit to some whining, moaning, whinging and more than a little complaining.   I won’t admit to crying…not saying it didn’t happen…I am just not prepared to admit it.   Anyway back on track…IP starts asking doctor’esque questions about the pain, where it is etc etc.   Then she offers to help me fix it.   Which she then does.   Blessed relief

Seriously, who does that?   Who gives up their own time and energy to help a relative stranger?   IP, that’s who.   A rare breed of person that is generous and genuine.   I would, of course, like to think that I would have done the same….but would I have really?   Would you?

Now I realise that this could easily devolve into an IP love-in, but far from it.   If I can just get a little sentimental here for a second (and it is my blog, so damnit I will), I am in a very fortunate position of having made some incredibly good friends in Frankfurt and yet I am still surprised when I make another one.   I think it is the Anglo effect.   The few false people I have met there have not lasted long, did not ever really get in with the group and were certainly not missed.

The others are still there and the group grows a little from time to time.   I am fortunate to be a part of it.

Plus…who doesn’t like having a free massage, complete with baby oil…from a woman that gets your jokes Wink

I’m off to let Z kick the shit out of me…and then try and find an Uncle Fester coat for the impending Halloween weekend frivolity.

Why am I here?

Woah… sounds like a profound statement.   Trust me it’s not.

I have spent long and varied hours reading through other peoples blogs, mainly for distraction and definately for the funnies, and it strikes me as a good way to get things off your chest and maybe….just maybe create a modicum of entertainment for some other brain fried soul that needs a pick me up.

  • Do I think I can achieve this….no
  • Do I think anyone will ever see this (me telling them about it doesn’t count)….no
  • Times I have quit this page thinking it is a stupid idea….4

Which brings me back to title of the post I guess.     Well, much as it pains me to admit, my therapist thought it would be the perfect place to work my own personal shit out.   That’s right, I said therapist and yes they have apparently heard about all this new fangled technology stuff.

“Why a therapist?” I hear you cry.   Ok, maybe I don’t – Or if I do that might give an explanation right there.   Well, I am something of a paradox right now.   I believe myself to be a nice guy, decently overweight and with a freakish passing resemblence to Uncle Fester (more on the reason for that in future posts).   The paradox is that I have recently been responsible for fucking up someones life after she pretty much dedicated 10 years of her life to trying to make me happy.

Feel free to skip ahead to another blog at this point.   I can highly recommend the blogroll as they tend to be actually funny and a real distraction from….let’s face it, the work you are supposed to be doing right now.

NB: The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.

I met Sarah 10 years ago, just after I separated from my (now) ex-wife.   She is funny, beautiful and has a lust for life that cannot be denied.   We started off as friends, then housemates and eventually lovers.   We now have 2 amazing kids (Zak and Brandon-Lee) and spent many a happy year together.   I don’t fully know what happened, and yes I am aware about how pathetic that sounds.   We moved to Germany together (a long-held desire of mine since I was a kid) and all seemed well.   We had the usual bickering of any couple that have been together that long, we had financial issues that we, for the most part, got through.

Looking back from where I sit today, I still can’t put my finger on it.   My feelings changed, I no longer feel the love that has been there from very early on in our relationship – Not love at first sight, no nothing that corny, but love after about 3 months – Which is still pretty impressive when you come to think of it.

We were a fit…. we enjoyed each others company, made each other laugh, were fortunate to be able to generate mutual friendships, and in the *ahem* physical aspect we knew just what the other wanted and enjoyed.

So far, so inexplicable then.  

 10 years after getting together, I feel like I am not the same person.   I am still attracted to her, can still make her laugh, she can do the same to me, the physical thing was as good as ever (albeit less frequent – my fault), I just don’t feel the love.

Crazy isn’t it.  

The only thing I can reasonably come up with is that, if it is possible (and uncontrollable) to fall “in” love with someone, then the reverse must also be true.   That’s it….that’s all I have to explain throwing away a 10 year relationship with an amazing woman that, truth be told, I probably never fully deserved.   I miss my kids, I miss our conversations and closeness, but even with that, I still don’t feel like the decision is the wrong one.

One fucked up individual ladies and gentlemen, I bring you Dave.   Clearly, someone that follows orders from a German therapist that speaks only slightly more English than I do German (not a lot), is a definate head case.   Still, it makes the sessions interesting and the misunderstandings generally end in him reaching for the “Put this man in a padded cell” prescription pad….or something.

 I will try to avoid the self-obsessed, depression enducing posts, but I make no guarantee.   It IS my blog after all..