It's been a while but I have had a packed schedule of glancing distactedly and worriedly at my 'filing system' of revision notes behind my sofa, making cups of coffee and watching 'Loose Women'. It's been a tough old week.
However, there have been some highlights. And I am unfortunately not referring to those jaunty fluorescent pens that everybody insists are fantastic revision aids but actually are of no use whatsoever apart from giving the effect that New Rave slugs have been partying on your notes.
One such highlight involved a very surreal evening in Byker.
I mingled with the members of the education profession that fall under the hippy-dippy category at a pub that has a regular ukulele club.
I was bought a drink by an ex-supply teacher's second husband (her first husband used to be a vicar before converting to Islam, a decision which apparently 'had something to do with the bird he was shagging').
I was enlightened by my Philosophy teacher's band that consists of one dreadlocked hippy (said Philosophy teacher) on vocals/guitar/mouth organ/saxophone, one crazy-eyed hobbit in a Pete Doherty hat on vocals/guitar/violin, one skinny, spruced up trendy on keyboards and a bass player who seemed to have a dislocated, deformed hand when playing though admirably looked quite chipper about it. Plus there was the trumpet player (another Philosophy teacher incidentally) and the large female cello player who came on for the odd song. An eclectic mix of styles issued forth from the set, the most memorable song of the evening being one about Moses called 'The Promised Land'. An anthem for the modern age, it is a heartfelt power ballad that includes a reference to taking succour from milk and honey and is surprisingly catchy. Other notable songs were one about the stories of C.S Lewis and one in the blues style that calls on our 'supreme Lord'.
I was coerced into a peck on the cheek by hippy teacherwhen going to congratulate him, from which I though I would never emerge alive from within the mass of dreadlocks. Shudder. Still having the nightmares.
I danced to such classics as 'Cotton-eyed Joe' and 'I am the Music Man' as the bands cleared up.
I went on a trip round the whole of Byker (multiple times) and eventually made it to Kingston Park at 1 0'clock in the morning for provisions after getting horribly lost and confused due to the person giving directions being absolutely wasted after tallying up 13 drinks. Do not fear though, as we had 'The Promised Land' playing to get us through (we bought the CD at the gig). It's the kind of song that you have to close your eyes to when singing as it has so much meaning and passion to convey, and clenched fists have to accompany it as well as walking through some landscape involving a smoke machine.
I ended up in a hovel of a bachelor pad where Chinese alcohol was shot, a viser was worn at a hip angle, and chocolate ice cream was passed round the circle in a refreshingly communal fashion. God love the hippy scene.
Good times were had.
Little else of note has been going down this side of the hood.