I have the remains of this antique telegraph pole stuck in my back yard, I asked Wolfy, a man who knows lot of obscure information how far it goes into the ground. ‘Eight foot.’ he tells me, ok another four to go.
The task of removing the telegraph pole combined with putting in seven rows of potatoes in my allotment fucked my shoulder. An unhealthy dose of codeine failed to dull the pain and for a week it felt like I had someone stabbing me in the back.
So the blogging took a back seat for a time.
Since I took a break from the blogging my world has changed a little.
After spending years trying to obtain a premises for a community Arts venue I am finally beat by psycho capitalists and an apathetic local council.
We have an Arts Development Officer who gives nothing except empty token gestures to avoid criticism and scrutiny, there is monopolisations of local music, the town centre property is being consumed by invisible foreign investors.
The quest to obtain a building has take up the past four years of my life, I got to understand the insidious nature of small town politics and parochialism,nothing will change here so I now have uncoupled myself from this frustrating demoralising futile process.
Gerald Palmer will once again feature in another blog, and will also feature in future blogs until we have achieved a satisfactory resolution. Anyone interested in this unfolding saga should read ‘When Hippies go to court,again.’
As always Gerald and his gang are welcome to challenge anything I have to say.
Thanks to all that have followed my ramblings so far, more soon.
Bassman May 2016