THE DAY I SANG (AND MISSED SEVERAL PHONE CALLS)

Right then, an update, I have stripped the kitchen of everything except what I consider the bare essentials (an Oven with two hobs and a dishwasher) and have spent several days chiselling tiles and such like off the walls. This left me with an empty, hollow cube which, on reflection, put me in mind with a prison cell on Alcatraz. I can talk with confidence when I say this as I have been in a prison cell in Alcatraz (as too have many thousands of people as it is all part of the Alcatraz 'experience') re-open brackets (the thousands of people didn't all squeeze in to my cell at once, no I meant thousands of people over several decades, I hope that clarifies the point as I wouldn't want you to walk away saying, with some authority to people that Alcatraz was famed for its overcrowded cells because that would be very wrong), there, a comma so you could pause for breath and a full stop too.

The two bare essentials plus a radio!

Having said all that,  I think I should further clarify that Alcatraz failed to provide neither an oven (with or without hobs) or a dishwasher, which is a shame really as both those items would have been quite nifty and indeed progressive and surely would have made Alcatraz the place to stay. I say that my kitchen resembles an Alcatraz cell but it is at least 3 times the size and has a back door and porch which again was possibly too progressive for them. On that point, my living room has a lot in common with Ford Open Prison in that it also has the capability to have two roaring fires at the same time.

So I now commenced the next phase of the operation and start to paint the ceiling and walls. Old clothes adorned, the jeans that would have been considered totally contemporary a few years back with the amount of tears in them, but now I would more likely be arrested under section six of the Public Order act for wearing them and an old T shirt with a 'funny' and totally crass message on it that could also get me arrested by the fashion police and disowned by my children should I even peak out the door to check the weather. So I was ready to decorate, paint brush in one hand and with the other I turned on the tinny little 'decorators' radio. That possibly was a dodgy thing to do, for you see not only did the kitchen look like a prison cell, but it sounded like one too.
I HAD ECHO!

Oh yes, and furthermore they were playing ALL 70's music! Well, the macho, look at me the butch hard man, decorator quickly went out of the window and the 50yr old grey & gay came out (I use 'came out' in the loosest of ways). For the next two hours I was a complete embarrassment to myself.... So come on feel the noise
Girls rock your boys,   We'll get wild, wild, wild,     wild, wild, wild,........  Slop a load of paint onto a wall whilst doing my drunk uncle at a party dance routine.....   come on feel the noise........
...........And The Jailer Man And Sailor Sam, were searching every one,............ Paint splashing around like there was no tomorrow.......       For the band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the.......

It would be a little dishonest to suggest that the whole affair was that smooth and I m happier to admit that my pitch was not always spot on, but I find it harder to admit that my memory of the lyrics is not what it should be so there were bouts of.......
      .............If you see me walking down the street, and I start to lie, ask why, fly, die???.......
        .......................Each time we greet, treat, fleet, something falal-la-la-la,    .... walk on by..
Walk on by,   .......Make believe that you don't see the lamp-post coming?, just let Da, da, da, da, de dummm,...
           ........Da, de, da, de dummm, de da, da,da I dum dumm and cry........
Then with extra gusto 'cause I know this bit and dispite my pitch weaknesses the accoustics are brilliant.....

WALK ON BY~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y.

 and so it went on for well over two hours, once again transported back to the simpler times when rock was hard and glam was questionable but definitely a guilty pleasure and finally the white kitchen was now.... a white kitchen.

Just newer Fresher, whiter, white kitchen.
I have since learnt that in my rock-fest we had several missed phone calls, but did I give a toss?

The hell I did! ......   IT WAS THE 70's!