The Bogle Blurb

By Eric Bogle

9 June 2004, Adelaide, South Australia

     G'Day Mates!!

     Well, thanks mostly to my stunningly slothful attitude, allied to a totally disorganized lifestyle, it's been quite a while since my last Bogleblurb, about 7 months in fact.  In my defense, I must say that I actually submitted a Bogleblurb to the Webmaster about 4 weeks ago, but it got lost in Cyberspace.  Of course I did not make a copy, so here I am trying again.  And this time, rest assured, I will be making a copy of this blurb before I send it off....

     At the end of the last blurb, John and I, plus wives, were just about to head off to New Zealand for a 3 week combined tour/holiday.  We flew into Dunedin on the south island of New Zealand on a sunny but extremely windy Sunday afternoon.  It was probably one of the bumpiest and most scary landings I've experienced, and I've flown a bit.  People were actually screaming out loud.  Not me of course, I only scream at take-offs.  At landings I'm too busy praying!  Anyway, we landed safely enough, eventually.  After passing through the extremely helpful and friendly New Zealand Customs and Immigration staff at the airport (no kidding, they were great), we picked up our hire car.  It was a Subaru station wagon of indeterminate vintage and impressive mileage.  We took off north towards Christchurch, the venue for our first concert.

     However, we had a couple of days off before the concert.  So we headed for the Akaroa Peninsula, about an hour's drive east of Christchurch.  I had booked a nice luxurious waterfront motel for us to relax in before the hurly burly of the tour started.  The Akaroa Peninsula is one of my favorite places in New Zealand.  Even in a country full of pretty spectacular scenery, the Akaroa Peninsula is, to my mind, something special.  It was initially colonized by the French a couple of hundred years ago or so.  There is still a hint of Gallic influence in the architecture and the place names.  We had a most enjoyable couple of days there, relaxing, eating, drinking, sight-seeing, etc.  Here's the view from our motel room window in Akaroa:

Not bad, eh? 
Carmel is in the photo just to give a sense of perspective!

     But duty eventually called. So, reluctantly we left Akaroa and set off to Christchurch for our first concert.  Gratifyingly, it was a full house.  A good way to kick off the tour.  John & I were very well received, and we sold a bundle of CD's.  In fact, we sold so many that John, who is also my Merchandising Supremo, gloomily predicted that we would run out of CD's before the end of the tour.  He was correct, I'm sorry to say.  In fact, we ran out 3 concerts before the end, leaving quite a few people disappointed, including us!  Still, it was better than being left with a bundle of them as is often the case.  I never seem to take enough with me though, always underestimating the demand, it seems.  I'm either extremely modest at assessing the appeal of our concerts, or I'm mathematically challenged  .....  I think it's more the latter  ...  That night, in our motel, the team swung into action to make up more CD's to meet the demand from the voracious Kiwi consumers.

THE CD FACTORY!!

The reason they are all looking so happy of course is that I'm paying them very well!

     Then it was off back south to Dunedin for concert number 2.  Another full house I'm happy to say.  In fact, most of the concerts were full, or very nearly so.  As I hadn't toured New Zealand for 6 years or so, it says a lot for the loyalty of my New Zealand fans.  Anyway, we wandered around the south island for the next 10 days, singing our wee hearts out, eating and drinking a bit, and reveling in a lot of beautiful scenery.  New Zealand is one of those countries where you spend the first few days exclaiming in wonder as each bend in the road seems to bring yet another spectacular view.  You spend the rest of the time taking those views pretty much for granted.  Here's another photo of yet another ho-hum New Zealand vista.  This one at Queenstown......

     One of the most enjoyable concerts on the south island, was at a place called Cardrona, where the bloke who arranged the tour for us lives.  He's an old mate called Martin Curtis, whom I've known for more years than either of us cares to remember.  An Englishman by birth, Martin spent some time in Australia, but moved to New Zealand quite a few years ago.  He is now a passionate Kiwi.  Martin is a keen mountain climber, so he's living in the right place.  There's not all that many flat bits in New Zealand.  He is also, in my opinion, one of the best songwriters in New Zealand.  He arranged a concert for us in the Cardrona village hall and a very good night it was too.  There's a village called Cardrona near my home town of Peebles in Scotland.  I've been to one or two dances in that hall in the dim and distant past.  So, here I was on the other edge of the world, singing in another Cardrona village hall.  It was an eerie feeling at times.  All it needed was Jimmy Shand and His Band of Renown to march in and start playing.  I would have been transported back to another time and another very different world.  A better world?  In some ways perhaps  ......  Here's a blast from the past from that very different world.  Some of you may know that way back then, I was once a singer for a rock and roll band called, Eric & The Informers.  Then I took a vow of poverty and chastity and became a folk singer  ....  I once had a folk singer friend who won 5 million dollars in our Golden Casket lottery.  When he was asked what he would do now that he'd won all that money, he said, "Oh, I'll just keep playing and singing folk music until it's all gone ........."

ERIC & THE INFORMERS

In descending order:

Brian B. - Drummer
Colin H. - Lead Guitar
Bob H - Bass Guitar
Me - Superstar
Brian T - Rythm Guitar

     Oh, bright shining youth, where did you go?  Mostly drowned in the bottom of a beer glass, if my memory serves me correctly.  Or wasted on a succession of shallow, pretty heartbreakers.  Was it worth it?  You have to be kidding ... of course it was.  Youth is a currency to be spent well, not wisely.  Time enough for the wisdom bit when you are up to your neck in kids and mortgages.

     After 8 concerts on the south island of New Zealand, it was time to head for the north island.  We arrived in Wellington, the capital of New Zealand, the same day as the world premiere was being held of the last of "The Lord of The Rings," trilogy, "The Return of The King".  As an unabashed fan of the book and also the films, I hoped I might be able to hang around and try and catch a glimpse of Frodo or Gandalf.  But, once again, duty called.  We had a concert in North Palmerston that same night, about 100 kms north.  So, off we headed, much to my disappointment.  About this time I started introducing John on stage as, "The Lord of The Strings."  Which, as he said, was only really funny the first time around.

     We finished our tour at, The Irish Club in Auckland.  The biggest city in New Zealand, and a most attractive and lively place.  Once again a full house, and no CD's for sale!  John was inconsolable.  We had planned to spend a couple of days in Auckland after the tour finished relaxing and having a look around.  But the airline cancelled our scheduled flight and we had to leave on the Sunday night following the gig, instead of the following Tuesday afternoon.  So that was the end of our plans.  Not the best way to finish, but nonetheless it was a most enjoyable and satisfying tour.  I hope not to leave it for another 6 years before I tour beautiful New Zealand again.

     As many of you know, after my usual over-indulgent, non-working period over Christmas and New Year, I was supposed to go on a Caribbean Music Cruise at the end of January.  However, I'd had some vocal problems during the last few concerts of my New Zealand tour.  Not that I think anyone actually noticed. So I went off to my friendly throat specialist for a check-up.  I go reasonably regularly, about every two years.  But this time I had a persistent sore throat, and no amount of gargling with either warm salt water or the finest malt whisky seemed to make it any better.  So, I thought I'd better not wait until March 2005, when my next visit was scheduled.  He shoved his little fibre-optic camera down my throat, via my nasal passages � a very unsavoury procedure.  He showed me the inside of my throat on his TV monitor, in living colour.  And a horrible sight it was too  ...  I have nodules on my vocal chords of course, I've had them for years.  It's a hazard of the business, a lot of singers do have them.  Although, apparently teachers and university lecturers are more likely to get them than singers.  They deserve them a lot more, of course.  The specialist was unconcerned about them, they rarely whip them out these days anyway, except in extreme cases.  Apparently when Julie Andrews had hers removed, it totally ruined her voice, and she's not been able to sing since.  She sued her doctor for millions of course, which is the main reason doctors are now fairly unwilling to remove nodules.  I did have a little polyp in my throat, which he whipped out.  But it turned out to be a harmless little thing that had just been quietly sitting there minding it's own business.  As the doctor said, "Eric, it's a 59 year old voice.  You're never going to sing like Pavarotti again (again?), but even so you should look after it a bit better.  To be honest I'm surprised you can still talk let alone sing."  A slight over- exaggeration I thought, but I got the message.

     I'll spare you the gory details, but looking at the inside of my throat on the TV screen, was a bit like looking at a tray of raw fillet steaks in a butcher's shop window.  And the culprit?  Well, there were three actually, according to the doctor.  Firstly, my posture on stage when I sang, secondly my vocal delivery was from the throat and not the diaphragm, and lastly, the main culprit, I SMOKE FAR TOO MANY BLOODY CIGARETTES!!!  The usual suspects in fact.  I knew this anyway.  Really, I suppose I was hoping that he might find some minor problem that could be painlessly and easily fixed by a magic bullet or pill without any real effort on my behalf.  One which would have me singing like a lark once more with minimal, personal effort or sacrifice involved.  And the remedy?  There were four actually.  Go to a vocal remedial coach, drink a lot more water, eat more vegetables (this is prescribed for every ailment known to humanity) and GIVE UP SMOKING!!!  He also recommended that I talk as little as possible for a month, and not sing for two or three months.  Not talk!  Me?!!  How would Carmel cope.....??  In the event, quite well......

     And have I pursued the remedies? Well, I'm drinking more water  ....  I did cut down the chatter for a while, if not, I'm ashamed to say, the cigarettes.  I had to cancel a few gigs, including the Caribbean Cruise, which pleased Carmel not a lot as you can imagine.  She was going to come with me and we were going to celebrate our 32nd wedding anniversary on board the luxury cruise ship.  In the event we celebrated it at home, and I cooked her my speciality, mince and potatoes.  Not quite the same really........

     So I apologize belatedly to those who signed on the cruise in the hope they might hear me warble a song or two.  I have since heard from a few people who went on the cruise, that it was most enjoyable experience.  I'm glad my absence did not affect the success of the whole thing.  I felt terrible letting everybody down, especially Danny O'Flaherty who organized the cruise.  If there's a nicer Irish lad in America than Danny, I've yet to meet him.  His main concern, when I let him know that I wouldn't be able to make it, was for my voice, not how it may affect his cruise.  Which made me feel worse of course.  You can live with letting the assholes down every now and then, but when it's nice folks like Danny, you feel all sorts of an asshole yourself.  Hopefully though, there will be future cruises, and I'll certainly be there with bells on, if it happens.  Carmel will make sure of that!

     Enough of the mea culpa stuff, I'm not a Catholic  .....  My first concert, after my enforced lay-off, was in Victoria at the start of March.  I was pretty nervous, and I was flying solo as well.  John had returned to New Zealand to tour with his other group, Colcannon.  My voice was certainly pretty rusty for the first couple of songs, but eased into the gig pretty well after that.  Nobody booed or threw things anyway.  I've had a few gigs since then.  In fact, I've just got back from a wee tour of Western Australia and the Northern Territory.  It all went very well, except that I ran out of CD's again!  John was inconsolable  ..... 

     So, I'll keep on croaking to the end, I suppose.  I've never valued my singing voice much, (and I'm not alone in that!).  I always saw my songwriting as defining what I did, but you tend never to value things all that much until there's a chance you might lose them.  The threat to my vocal chords, old and croaky though they may be, has given me some pause for thought.  Now, excuse me while I go off and have a cup of coffee and a cigarette before, (mercifully), finishing off this blurb.....

     Ah, that's better. Where were we? Oh yes, winding up to the big finish......  On a personal level, I may not have been overwhelmed by musical engagements, but nonetheless have been pretty busy what with one thing and another.  Mainly in demolishing my River Murray shack, preparatory to building a new super shack.  I offer the following as proof of my lack of sloth in this direction:

Note the boiler suit - not a sexy look! Practical though.

I nearly killed myself knocking the bloody shack down. I'm really not in shape. I mean, I do have a shape, but it's not the shape I'd prefer to have if you know what I mean.........

     There is a certain savage satisfaction in knocking things down.  I swung the sledgehammer with a will for the first half hour or so, but then was of course, totally exhausted and had to sit down for a while.  But gradually it came down.  More easily than I had anticipated in fact.  The hard part wasn't actually so much knocking it down, as clearing all the rubbish and taking it to the dump.  But eventually it was done.

Here's a photo of me lighting a celebratory sacrificial fire to placate the river Gods.

     And that's about it folks.  I have a few concerts lined up for the rest of the year.  However, my main energies will be directed towards building the new shack and making it liveable.  Also, I really have to start writing some songs or I risk my membership in the Obscure Songwriters Association being cancelled. One last photo.  A lot of you know Jon Jones the drummer in my other band.  Here's one of the reasons he doesn't work with me all that often these days.....

Keep well, be happy,

Eric

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