I Gave Blood!

I hate needles, and the sight of blood makes me really squeamish. For years I had refused to give blood. A couple of years ago, Heather had finally talked me into going to give blood. When I got to the Q&A with the "blood-officer" I was told that I was not allowed to give blood in America because of the time that I had spent living in England. I was so pleased that I no longer had to feel guilty about not giving blood for all those years. I was completely ineligible because there is a chance that I have mad cow disease.

Well things are different now that we live in England. My mad cow disease excuse no longer applies. So, Heather and I went in to give blood and they happily accepted my offer. After going through the Q&A process, and having my blood tested for iron levels, I was admitted for bloodletting. In the end, the needle wasn't so bad, and they did a good job of hiding the blood bag from me. The worst part was probably after they pulled the needle out again, and had me hold the little gauze pad on the needle hole. I made the mistake of looking at it and saw that it had been saturated with my blood, but the nurse quickly cleaned it up and I recovered fairly quickly.

Since it was my first time, they made me lie on the bed for an extra ten minutes before I could get up for my juice and biscuits. Then when it was time for me to get up, the nurse yelled out in front of everybody, "Can he get some help, it's his first time!" All the other donors seemed to find that very amusing, especially Heather, who was already happily munching on biscuits. Despite their concerns, I had no problems or after effects.

I am interested in finding out what my blood type is (I should get a letter in a couple of weeks). Heather found a book that talks about the different personalities and nutritional requirements of the different blood types. I don't know if there is any truth in it, but the personality description for type-A matches Heather's personality fairly well and she has type-A blood. According to the book, I should have type-B (or possibly type-O). We shall see...

JE

I almost forgot to add this cool picture of Heather's bruised arm...

Ray LaMontagne Concert

On Sunday we went to see Ray Lamontagne. The show was at the Warwick Arts Center and I was really impressed with this place. It is a nice medium-sized venue with decent acoustics and sound system. They seem to have interesting acts coming through on a regular basis. The biggest bonus was the free parking right next to the concert hall (something that never happens in the UK).

The opening act was an English singer / songwriter called Kathryn Williams. She had an amazing voice although her songs didn't really grab me. She had a really good sounding group which included herself on acoustic guitar, another accompanying acoustic guitarist and a cello player. Both of the accompanists sang background vocals, and they did some really nice and unique harmonies. A couple of times she used a tape delay to create some really interesting loops with her voice that she sang along with. The first time it was really effective, the second time, the loop was slightly off tempo and the whole thing ended up sounding a bit muddled up. Overall it was an enjoyable, well performed, and well mixed performance.

Next came Mr. Lamontagne whose album has been my favorite new album of the last year. His songs and voice are so unique and powerful, yet familiar the first time you hear them. He has a reputation for being a very shy performer and not really enjoying being behind the microphone. He certainly lived up to that reputation, seeming like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown everytime he tried to talk to the crowd. Most of the time when he spoke, you couldn't really understand what he was saying. But when the songs began it was a whole different story. His voice broke loose at times overpowering the microphone and causing all kinds of difficulties for the rather inept sound man.

Which brings me to my biggest bone of contention about the whole evening...Ray's songs were obviously performed well by himself on acoustic guitar, his bass player, and by his drummer, but the mix was quite pathetic. For some reason, they had a hard time getting Ray's voice and guitar to cut through, they made up for it by cranking up the bass guitar so that was just about all you could hear along with the kick drum (one of those obnoxious clicky sounding kick drums) and the snare drum (sounding like the drummer was pounding on a wet shoe box). They had a rough time with Ray's voice throughout, at times inaudible, at times overbearing. There is a device called a compressor that is designed to deal with these problems and they need learn how to use it.

Still, I felt like I got my money's worth out of the evening. Both artists were very entertaining, and I found Ray's terrified demeanor to be refreshing. It was a nice change from all of the performers who try to have a great "stage presence" and end up annoying me with innane comments..."How's everybody doing tonight!!!?" (screams from the crowd) "Are you having a good time!!!?"(more screams from the crowd) "Are you ready to rawk!!!?" (yet more screams from the crowd) etc. etc...

Remember Remember...

Remember Remember the fifth of November
With gunpowder treason and plot...

Saturday was the fifth of November when we celebrate Guy Fawkes Night in the UK. This is the night when Brits light bonfires and set off fireworks to commemorate foiling the plans of Guy Fawkes who was going to blow up the Houses of Parliament. I must admit, I do think it's a strange thing to be celebrating 400 years after the fact, but everyone really seems to like it. I guess it sends a message to would be traitors. Part of the Bonfire Night celebration is to make a dummy of Guy Fawkes, then to toss the dummy on the bonfire. I still remember doing this in school as a kid. I loved it! Nothing gets a nine-year-old boy excited like burning stuff.

This year we didn’t go anywhere, but we sat out on our back patio and watched all of the fireworks going off around us. I pulled out the hookah that we bought in Turkey and smoked it a bit. Heather wasn't really into it, so she didn’t smoke much. When we eventually got cold enough to go back inside, Heather said, "You aren't going to blog about this are you?" Well, I guess I am. I don't really have anything anymore exciting to write about this week.

On a completely different note, I installed a new floodlight at the back of our house. It’s a super-bright 300-watt halogen. The sad thing is that I had to blow a fuse before I remembered the difference between a series lighting circuit and a parallel lighting circuit. If you draw the circuits out on paper, it’s the kind of stuff that I studied in my first week of Electrical Engineering classes. It reminded me of helping my friend disconnect the electric baseboard heaters in his house in college. My famous last words were, "right, the power should be disconnected now"...Oh well, the light works really well now, and we can blind the neighbours on the other side of the valley.

JE

Saying Goodbye to Uncle Peter

It has been a rough couple of weeks. My Uncle (my Mom's brother), who lived just 30 miles from us, passed away due to lung and liver cancer. Fortunately, my parents arrived to see him before he died. They were able to stay and help my cousins out with all of the things that have to be done when someone dies.

The funeral was this past Monday. This was the first funeral for a close family member that I have ever been to. It was of course a very sad occasion. We sang a couple of hymns that referenced the outdoors and farming, since my Uncle spent many years as a farmer. One of his boys read a short memorial that they had written for him. This was the most touching part of the service for me. I couldn't help thinking what it would be like for me to be up there talking about my dad.

It was strange seeing all of my English family. Some were relations that I had never met before; others had not seen me since I was five years old. Meeting all of these family members gave me the feeling of being a small part of many generations. I could see or sense little bits and pieces of myself in these people that I had never really met before.

My Uncle Peter was a kind man. He loved dogs, horses, and football. I am glad I got to visit with him over this last year. He will be missed...

JE