Well Bali was nice… I guess. And I’m happy to be home if a few pounds lighter.
What a beautiful and mysterious island it is – I have visited S.E. Asia before but this time, a number of bombings later, it does seem that the gentle Balinese and their tourism industry are doomed by their proximity to more aggro neighbours.
How many times in the world has an industrious, peace-loving tribe been quietly steamrollered by history’s celebrated high achievers. Where’s the justice. The music industry of course is governed by the same primitive forces and sometimes I feel very sorry for myself: why should I, a musical genius in my time, have to play piano in a commercially successful but otherwise worthless outfit like Brick Springhorn’s.
It stinks but that’s life and I must feed my greedy family.
But on a brighter note – I bring back to civilization with me a remarkable golden monkey, the likes of which you have never seen! It is sitting now on the mantle piece staring grimly at the opposite wall as the fire flickers beneath making it look very… weird. No doubt the puppet maker is already hammering away in the hope of replacing his lost child – but of course he will never succeed.
Possibly some of you will have been wondering what has become of the King since he boastfully unveiled his plan to grow a moustache and then claimed that he was going to Bali for three weeks. Knowing King Curly’s propensity for stretching the truth I naturally assumed that “three weeks in Bali” translated as “three weeks in a darkened room checking the progress of moustache with a pen-light and hand-mirror”. In that I was wrong, having received a terse missive from the King, as well as the artist’s rendering below:
It turns out that King Curly has been playing piano with popular act, “Brick Springhorn & The Tenth Avenue Band”. He is clearly pictured to the left of frame playing the grand-piano. In an uncharacteristic fit of modesty he has seated himself in the shadows. This newfound modesty must have been what compelled the King to keep these high-profile and potentially lucrative gigs a secret.
And yet, an unpleasant but convincing impression forms; King Curly is ashamed to be associated with Brick and his cohorts yet happy to take their money; hence all the secrecy. I sincerely hope this is not true. Everybody loves Brick Springhorn, and everybody loves his popular song “Born in America”.
With crisis erupting the world over, I have decided to grow a moustache. It will make me feel more prepared for the challenges ahead.
It’s disappointing that today moustaches are currently regarded as the domain of Friends of Dorothy, the ugly, and those who wear them “ironically” – when only 100 years ago problem solvers everywhere had them. I know I have a long way to go but my models are winners like Bismarck, Peter the Great, Ivans the Great and Terrible, Blackbeard, Stalin etc etc. It seems like just about everyone in the Middle East still sport splendid moustaches, though none so grand as pictured here.
Perhaps moustache size is the canary in the mine that registers levels of cultural confidence; and when the moustaches are small or gone the Visigoths are at the walls?
In portraits of The Great, they almost always are wearing a glorious sash too – I’d like one of these also but have yet to build up the courage.
The man who runs my local supermarket is a proud stallion of a fellow with a hell of a moustache that yesterday I was brave enough to admire out loud. He took in the situation with a sweep of his lazy eye and said “I was like you once.but you can be like this in 6 or 7 months. No problem.”
He is a man’s man who cherishes his moustache and frankly the results speak for themselves. I will carry on as long as I can – but 6 or 7 months is a long time.
Thanks to all the people we played to in Cairns last weekend – The Tanks is a truly great venue. Im off to Bali now for 3 weeks would you believe.
