Sunday Music, Monday Edition

Last week just was. It brought me a new co-driver. Well, I usually avoid to compare persons to objects, but frankly, in this case, they could have given me a sack of potatoes, too ; and it would be better, because potatoes are silent. I do not want to dwell on this malarky, thankfully it is just this week to go, then there’ll be a week off, and hopefully my regular colleague will come back in early November. This would be really nice.
Because I am a pretty immature person I now & then follow the advice of my passengers – when they keep yelling “Left! ! Left ! Left! ” (of course a totally wrong direction etc.) there is the chance that the Kindskopf at the wheel sharply turns left, sooner or later … On one of these (very small) expeditions into the unexpected (going sharp right, of course) I discovered the puddle.
It is not just a random run-of-the-mill puddle, not your average every day puddle, it is die Pfütze der Träume. It is long, at least two lengths of the vehicle. When I glanced over it this late afternoon the watery mixture of sludge seemed to be just right, wind made little frizzles on the surface. It gave the impression of endless deep – but the gravel track is kept in good order, seems solid. Perhaps too solid for water to flow off after strong rain.
I shied back.
Just wetted the brand new winter tyres at the first beginning of the muddy ocean, sending little waves over the shiny surface. I heard the potatoesack mumble (in broadest Franconian dialect) “You’ll don’t run through this ??!”
The rest of my passengers also looked in breathless (and silent) awe, until a tiny voice said “It’s megadeep.”
I hope not. Can’t risk to loose some vehicle parts in there. Oh, the temptation !
Now let’s turn away from these murky phantasies, and listen to something really nice.
In October 1972 some people came together in a studio and played music. Thankfully this is documented, and now we can listen to their take on Can’t find My Way Home, the singer is the inimitable Bonnie RIATT (Ger., Eng.). Please excuse that it is a bid longer than usual, there is talking and tuning, and then comes this voice.
I hope you enjoy the music. May this week be matschfrei for all of us.



8 thoughts on “Sunday Music, Monday Edition

  1. You just never can tell with those muddy puddles. Is it concealing a giant pothole? Stay safe, Mr Mags!
    I am listening to the tune, but they are still muttering at 3.00.

  2. The potatoesack will leave on Frayday, and with a little luck that was it >Savannah.

    Exactly, MsScarlet, what is under the tranquil surface ?
    Yes, they chatter a bit, Ms Riatt feels the need to swoon about the cuteness of Mr George, they search for a “d”, and finally get it going.

  3. There’s a car sharing app available here with the silly name BlaBlaCar, which does have one big advantage: it lets you express a preference for the chattiness of the driver.

    I won’t be applying for a position as your co-driver though. I’m a bit inquisitive and usually get the taxi driver’s life story out of them before we reach the destination.

  4. SIlly name, Looby, but good idea. I’d choose Peter the Finn as driver whose idea of a lively discussion is a weekly “throat clearing sound”, ahem.
    This inquisition would lead me to invention straight, dear Looby, I’d lie through my teeth (“das Blaue vom Himmel herunterlügen”, “die Geschichte vom Pferd erzählen”). As I do to inquisitive replacement co-drivers who ask unwanted questions. Or anybody else who tries to come too close too fast.

  5. A friend drove his Land Cruiser over a puddle on the way to Mount Kenya and ended up inverted. No potatoes involved.

  6. The puddle is axed. Today I asked a person who lives there. She said that her tractor (!) “looks really bad” when she has to go through it. It is deep, she doubted that I’d get through in one go. Besides that the thing is on private land, in fact it is a dirt track leading to a farm. I thought it was public land, ein Gemeindeweg oder sowas, so no good idea to bath an old Ford van in a farmer’s puddle just to swim the swamp and go & ask for help out.
    Well Nikos, is your friend’s Land Cruiser available, by chance ?

  7. Said Land Cruiser a write off Mr Maggs, probably now recycled in the African sustainability tradition into cooking utensils.

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