Morning Wonder (Take Me Home)

I awoke this morning and decided that I didn't want to go to work. I feebly told Lisa that I wanted to call in sick so I could catch up on some much needed sleep. She promptly ordered me to get up. I duly obliged.



As I left the house, I noticed a package waiting for me. I stuffed it in my pocket and made haste for the station.

For Fuck's Sake II:

The trains were down again, and I was once again forced to sit with all the other disenchanted shulbs on the No. 60 bus. I knew it would be lengthy voyage but thought that listening to Joanne Newsom's latest album 'Ys' would be a rather pleasant way to kick start my day. However my journey turned out to be depressingly nostalgic. It was almost like I was visited by four ghosts akin to those in Dickins' 'A Christmas Carol'. (by the way in case you're thinking of being a pedant and saying there was only three ghosts in 'A Christmas Carol' read it again you shmuck)



The first was a good pal from college's identical twin brother who along with his brother are both doing extremely positive things with their respective Art degrees. Working freelance and also teaching at the local community college. We made with the polite chitchat. Learning of other peoples happiness and contentment with life I sadly find most irksome so I did my best to throw a few curve balls to get off the subject. Thankfully I was rescued by the visitation of a second ghost a former band member (and out of touch friend)'s girlfriend, whom informed me of what life has been like post band for her and her boyfriend and asking me how life was. Whilst regaling her of my current and recent activities, realised that life has remained pretty much the same as when I used to see her on the ole 60 bus when I commuted to job number's 24 and 26



The third ghost I didn't speak to. I didn't need to and didn't really want to either. It was a girl I worked with at Abbey national whom was fancied by all. Her name escaped me, but she was sat in front of me all the way to work. I waited for her to get off the bus to see if I could confirm if it was her. It was. She noticed my face, and gave a vague smile of recognition- one similar to seeing someone you know, but not sure where from. Her looks have diminished significantly as she has matured- though she must only be 26ish now. Her youthful spark now extinguished.



I also noticed that the bus took me past many locations that I had worked I had almost forgot existed:

The bus stop where I used to wait cold and tired after a 20 minutes walk from the Riverside Housing Office,

Wavertree Technology park, where I worked for Connexions.

The Office where I had a three and a half hour job interview in the Old Swan dealing with motorbike insurance that I turned down. (well I just didn't return any of their calls)

The houses in which I deliver Council newsletters.

The route to which I droved to Netherton when I worked for the Inland Revenue after I got the fear of travelling on the trains after being caught with no ticket,

The house in Walton which the band rehearsed for several years.



The final Ghost was the scariest of them all. A bored looking gentleman in his mid-late thirties, ginger beard, brown/auburn short hair and brown rimmed NHS style glasses. "My God" I thought "it's me!" I'm being haunted by an older fatter me!

I avoided eye contact, I looked around the bus to see if there was any other significant visions- my late Grandfather perhaps? Nothing.



I just starred out of the window and thought "at least I'll still have my hair."



So what was the purpose of these visitations? I'm not entirely sure; after all I was always pretty slow at "reading between the lines". I'm now trying to fathom it out.

Were they trying to tell me something? Trying to illustrate that I was on an alternative route? On a prolonged journey? Or were they merely pointing out that an alternative route wouldn't be so bad.



If I was a character in the Sopranos, I'd be watching some poignant television programme film to highlight my plight and give me an easy answer, but then if I was in the Sopranos I'd have been killed years ago for perving at Tony's daughter..

Also- where are my keys?



Anyway, as I got off the bus, I just shrugged it all off and opened my package which I had forgotten about…..It was the new Earlies album promo, which had kindly been sent by the excellent (and clearly generous) Names Record Company after chance correspondence via MySpace. This was a sign I thunked. This was a sign…