Strange what one finds out by accident, and today was no exception.
I woke up in a normal enough fashion, one of the neighbours petrol strimmers had entered one of my favourite dreams and changed it for the worse.
In that dream ( before the strimmers) I am explaining to Kate Bush that all teenage boys loved "That Poster" and were prepared to put up with the sqeaky upper registers of her voice all those years ago purely on the basis of a nipple.
Needless to say the strimmers changed the dream into something a little more frightening, in this case putting me in the same building as prohibition era jazz musicians,(no alcohol either, so no chance of blotting it all out) but not to dwell,I had a whole day to get on with.
Breakfast was good, I had part of a large Halibut, a ciggerete , some more halibut, jelly babies,and finished off with last nights left over chinese takaway.A whole pot of tea and some more ciggeretes.
I knew the takeaway would leave me hungry again in an hour or so , but I would be passing a very good pie shop on my morning outing.
As I bimbled down the road, my mind turned to music again, and I pondered the "melodic content issues" that have tormented me on and off since the 4th August 1979. (But not during the periods 11th Sept 83 through 17th sept 83 when I was having fun with a dubious lady who kept me occupied on other matters)
I stopped by pure chance next to the local parish church to have another ciggy, sit on the wall, and peruse the graveyard.
It was at this point that the village vicar appeared and came over for a chat, as there are only seven known persons in the entire Parish who will engage in conversation with him,(since the choirboy/jazz party scandle of 92) he doesn't miss an opportunity to partake of social discourse.
The first thing he asked me, was sort of accusatory; "your not still worried about Zombies are you?" and pointed to the gravestones.
That actually had a bit of a detrimental affect on me, because I hadn't been worried about Zombies today (up till that point) but now I was becoming worried,my main fear of course was that he was going to be the bearer of the news that I most feared like "well you should be worried, because last night...."
I just said "no" for the sake of not having to explain that I hadn't "bothered" Milla Jovovich on facebook since the injunction.
I mentioned I had been contemplating Jazz improvisation, I just mentioned it in a casual way with no facial expression at all , and I definately did not wretch or put my ciggerette out on my tongue or anything like that.
Imagine my surprise when he got violent.
Don't forget here, I had not been awake for very long so was still a bit fragile.
The absolute last thing I expected him to say during this clerical psychotic episode, (which strangly turned out to be the very first thing he did say) was ; "Do you really want all our churches to be smashed up again?"
"Padre" I said, "padre, I have not got the slightest Idea of what you are going on about, I swear, I really haven't"
"Then my son, ( I know it sounds stereotypicall, but he really did say that) you better come into the vestry with me and I will tell you all about it "
I fruitlessly racked my brains for the info on how the choirboy/jazz party scandal of 92 had actually ended,and indeed if any charges were brought, but drew a complete blank.
Once tea and biscuits ( his own ,not my grans, so some dissapointment) had been served by his curiously dressed housekeeper, he got down to the dusty business of pulling old books and parchments off the vestry shelves.
with a knarly finger, and a curled lip that still had biscuit crumbs on it he both pointed to a page in a book and questioned me at the same time with
"you've heard of the Ellwyn family curse boy" he hissed.
(please dont let it be zombies ,please dont let it be zombies was all I could think)
I managed to say " No vicar, I cant say I have"
"cant say you ave boy?,cant say you ave? can e not? "
At this point I have to say the vicars whole accent had changed dramatically, it was now a cross between victorian cockney and Circa 1643 pirate. I was strangly engrossed.
"well I tell e, Brother Tobias Ellwyn the 7th was of the order of the "secluded sect of uncommunacative brothers that ardly goes out of monastic grounds and nevers eats peas", so e was"
( I decided not to question the lengthy title of said brotherhodd, this was getting weird)
"And" I said,
"well boy, well might you "and", e had unatural family traits so e did, passed down through generations of the hideous Ellwyn line" "got caught red anded with pen and paper in is and, so he did"
Before I got a chance to say "doing what" the vicar just carried on " got it of his great grandfather they says, he tried to do it to greensleeves of all things"
And with a great sigh of woe, he carried on "greensleeves of all things, the Kings own song an all, made him so mad he burnt down all the monastries"
I really needed to get my pie and wanted this to make some sense before I left, so I got a bit "short" with him.
"Listen" I said, "just what did brother Ellwyn do, or try to do with the pen and paper, that his great great grandfather also did to greensleeves, that brought down the monastries, because everyone in his family had some sort of genetic irregularity?"
( I really hoped that covered everything)
"can do better than tell e, can show e" said the vicar and in a triumphal manner showed me the above score with the unnacceptable improvisational ideas that Brother Ellwyn had scribbled in for the lovely hymn of Jerusalem. His ancester having of course done the same with greensleeves and brought down the wrath of the king on the monastries.
"see boy, see" said the vicar, "thats the sort of trouble we be talking here, excomunication, family madness, a cursed line, looky boy, look at ye proposed score of Ellwyn, does that look normal to you?"
I had to admit on examination, that it didn't , I dont know if it was because it actually didn't or if I was worried all the pies may have gone.
He was good enough to give me a copy of Brother Ellwyns work "as an example of cloistered foolishness"
So I thought I would put it up for perusal.