Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 19 degrees, quite warm, sunny with a few clouds.
It is Tuesday, the last day of April. Tomorrow will be May 1st, Labour Day and a bank holiday in Brazil.
For me, it also marks New Year’s Day or the start of my new year. My birthday month is coming to an end, along with the old year. Tomorrow signifies the beginning of my new year.
The morning and day have been quite normal: exercise, skipping, blogging, a walk, classes, paying my credit card bill, and everything is in order. What was interesting was that I received a message from Spotify informing me that Bruce Hornsby will perform two shows in England this June.
One in London and the other in Portsmouth. I listen to Bruce Hornsby quite a lot, as well as Bruce Springsteen, Neil Diamond, the old Scottish band Talk Talk, Depeche Mode, and, more recently, Sigur Rós, Message to Bears, and others.
Bruce Hornsby is an American singer, songwriter, and pianist. He’s now almost 70, an old-school rock pianist with a style influenced by Southern American rock and a touch of jazz. He’s most famous for the song ‘The Way It Is’, which was a huge hit 40 years ago. He’s also renowned for his band Bruce Hornsby and the Range, which I saw perform at the Hammersmith Odeon in London in 1988.
At that time, I was living in London and sharing a flat with Malcolm, an Australian friend. I had my work, and Malcolm had his, which involved representing an Australian company that sold hot-dog franchises to be installed in petrol stations and convenience stores.
Malcolm only earned commission from selling franchise contracts. He was always broke, and I often had to foot the bill when we went out in the evenings or even for some of the bills at home. The upside of Malcolm’s job was that he had a van as a company car. To sell, do his work, and install the hot dog stands in petrol stations, his vehicle was a van that could comfortably seat six or seven people.
That van went everywhere in and around London; it never stopped, whether for work or for pleasure. Besides his work, we would go out every night. We once realised that we had not been home before 4:00 a.m. for over six months. Every night, there was a party, a meeting with friends, or some event. We did not stop, and the van didn’t either. It was a special time with many fond memories, but like all special times and life itself, it stops or changes.
At that time, we also had many Brazilian friends living in London. Due to my work, I had contact with Brazilians, Portuguese, and some Polish people.
My Brazilian friends were fun; we would meet up to go out, see movies, or gather at someone’s house for dinner to enjoy some Brazilian food—like feijoada, a dish of black beans, rice, and meat, or Cozido, a slow-cooked stew with meat and vegetables, and sometimes even have barbecues.
My Brazilian friends bought tickets for a show at the Hammersmith Odeon to see Bruce Hornsby and the Range. I had never heard of him or his band, but they assured me it would be a good night and a great show. They invited both Malcolm and me to go; we bought the tickets and went.
Some of the most vivid images I have today of my life in London, which is now a little hazy in my memory, are of all of us going to Hammersmith Odeon in Malcolm’s van. Pulling up in front of Hammersmith Odeon, you see me getting out of the front door and then pulling open the sliding side door of the van to let out six or seven of our friends.
It’s the kind of thing you see in a film. People standing in front of the main entrance, and then suddenly, this big white van pulls up. A person opens the side door, and six or seven people get out—the back of the van is downright comical, unexpected, and spontaneous.
I wasn’t expecting much from the show; I thought it would be a flop, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. The venue vibrated with Bruce Hornsby’s rock piano and his band. The Hammersmith was a more theatrical auditorium, with stalls, boxes, and balconies around the stage at different levels, like a layered cake, and we were at the very top, almost in the heavens.
I remember looking around and seeing the entire place literally rocking to Bruce Hornsby’s highly rhythmic piano playing. This was one of the best shows I have ever seen, and I have attended many shows and concerts.
Not for the special effects or lighting, which were very simple, but for the quality of the music, which was addictive to everyone inside the Hammersmith Odeon. The atmosphere, the music — you could cut it with a knife; the whole place rocked, and it was all because of good quality music. The purity of genuinely great music that touches the souls, minds, and bodies of everyone in the theatre.
Like I said, I have been to many shows in England, Brazil, and other countries, but this one, until today, is in the top three.
And this is why I have bought two tickets to see Bruce Hornsby in London on 18 June. The tickets weren’t very expensive, and honestly, I don’t expect much. He is pretty old, and I’m not sure what his setlist will be. If he plays all his old popular songs, it should be a memorable night.
The plan is to travel to London on Tuesday, the day of the show, and return on Wednesday. It would also be nice to explore a bit of London! Something to look forward to next month. I can only feel grateful for the opportunities that have been coming my way.
This past year has been very good for me. I hope I have earned the things that are happening in my life and deserve to receive them. I also wish to have the wisdom to decide wisely what to do correctly, not just for myself but also for the people around me who are important to me.
I have never had much, and now that I am beginning to do well, please grant me the intelligence and wisdom to sustain and flourish for all those around me and with me.
In bed by midnight
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
