My life goes from day to day. That's a great way to live. I recommend it. An Existential approach. . I woke up on Thursday and took the stairs down from my bed to my living room in darkness in preparation for my working day. At my desk on my laptop to my surprise and delight there was a message from a fundamental and central friend of mine waiting for me..An important person. There aren't many such people in anybody's life. I hadn't really heard from her for many years.
She told me she had got a divorce a couple of years back and she would be in London in April with one of her beautiful daughters. That she was happy. Should we meet? I hadn't really known she was unhappy but the news didn't really surprise me. I met the man she married. Was at their wedding. I'd been surprised at the time. Puzzled. I replied that I would love to see them both. Suggested tea at The Dorchester. Mentioned Budapest where we had spent the best Christmas together. Possibly of my whole life. Twenty years ago.
That has been the emotional backdrop for my last couple of days. This seems to be the world we live in now.Living in the present. Dwelling on the past. Thinking of the future. Outside there's a climate of fear. Every time you look at the news. Turn on the TV or the radio. Look at the front pages. Read the headlines. . A plane has just crashed into water near Washington DC. An American president is eager to blame others rather than taking charge and clearing matters up so we can all sleep in peace. Life is and remains stranger than fiction.
Never mind all that. I have lessons to plan and teach. It's a great way to spend my days. Teaching German business students online. People who are probably waking like me. Glancing at the news.Putting it to the back of their minds and thinking of the day ahead and the task at hand. Children off to school. A pecked kiss for a partner. No time to worry about a German parliamentary election. An important one surely. Just a matter of weeks away.
Meanwhile the music plays. I like to make my own soundtrack. My life has been great in that respect since I left a stale and hostile corporate office space a year ago and became self employed. In my flat as I bathe and dress, The Goon Sax's debut album Up To Anything spins. Insouciante, irrepressible youth, First love, first friendship, first heartbreak. We may not realise it at the time But the heart is a remarkable organ. Resilient. Durable. It heals. We go on towards the coming day
I check my emails from work. Text to friends. No more time to delve further into the news. It cares not for me. It would do no one any good for me to weep at my desk. I take off Up To Anything. Put on Lou Reed's New York. A lament for his home town. From 1989. Lou is gone. But New York goes on. We must go on. 'Fly, fly away. From the Dirty Boulevard.'
I've got a sub to teach first. I love sub classes. Melissa, the group's regular teacher needs to take a week off. So I've been parachuted in with a basic roadmap. I click on the Teams link and am admitted into a virtual classroom where four IT businesspeople await me and we sail into the lesson.
I always feel like teaching is a breeze. An opportunity to immerse myself in the now. Sub classes generally demand that you meet people, find out the basics keep them entertained and hopefully help them in some way. Teaching is a noble pursuit. At least that's the way I look at it.
This class is fun. The students are funny. They know each other well and I warm to them increasingly as the ninety minutes proceed. We talk about different kinds of humour. They have good senses and feelings for it. We laugh and I hope learn something together. Time doesn't lag. They give ad hoc presentations, demonstrating their ability to describe their working processes in English. Switching between active and passive voice when required. Like professional footballers with two good feet.
Half an hour later and I'm into one of my regular classes. I play this one by ear, I have a powerpoint but subject matter comes up from the group and I pursue it. We talk about the property market. Compare what goes on there and what goes on here. As with pretty much everything I've learned about Germany since I started this a year back it strikes me that they have a saner approach and that we might do well to learn from them. An astonishing idea. 'Learn from Johnny Foreigner.' Perish the thought.
I'm done by 1.15. Do my paperwork, tidy up a bit and the day is fine. I've decided I'm going to a bash in the Cobalt Studios in Ousburn tonight. I've hardly been out since I got back to Newcastle a couple of weeks ago and it's time I did so. I don't wish to become a hermit.
I stop off at Beatbox Records across the road for a chat with Sam of No Teeth. They're probably a syndicalist commune or something of the sort but franky Sam is in charge whatever anyone tells you. We chat for a while. Sam is good and rolls me a tab for good measure and I'm on my way.
I pop in at The Telegraph to see if Amy's in. She isn't so I chat to the young barmaid who has a Nirvana T Shirt on. We chat about Nirvana and I say I was in Dortmund at the time of Grunge when Cobain died. I witnessed events unfold one Friday afternoon. A highly memorable event for me. It was genuinely upsetting. Cobain and Nirvana seemed to matter to a lot of people.
The barmaid is amiable but I get the impression that she isn't particularly interested. In what I have to say or actually in Nirvana really. It's just a t shirt she chose from her drawer. Nothing wrong with that. I go to the jukebox put on some songs that remind me of those days. Drink my cider and I'm on my way.
I like the idea of choice these days. It gives my life rhythm, The Bridge? Nah not this time. Down the winding steps to The Quayside and the Crown Posada. One of the ultimate pub destinations in Newcastle. Or anywhere else for that matter.
I buy my non alcoholic beer. Sorry I'm a dull man these days. It was time to show the alternative to non alcoholic beer the door. A young group of people come and sit next to me. They seem perfectly OK but get engrossed in a never ending chat about a sad psychotic who murdered some poor young children recently.
I'm sorry but I avoid discussion of things like these because I find it can lead to string 'em up conclusions. Or general unhappiness and confusion.I want and need to be happy. I make my way as inconspicuously as I can past them and back to the bar. I read an article about the fine new Dylan film instead. Then I'm off into the night..
The Quayside is glossy and still. Ink black. Bible Black. As somebody with more poetry in his soul would have it. This acts as my exercise for today as I'm giving the Fitness Centre a break for a while.
I'm into the Ouseburn Valley and I spot Alan at the doors of The Cluny. One of the best baman of my lifetime. An avuncular, friendly Viking of a man whose hobby is beng a viking. Staged battles and talks for the kids. I'm pleased because I've had a solitary day and it's great to catch up with someone I haven't seen for a while. Newcastle's wonderful for that.
I invite him to my 60th Birthday Party. We chat about common acquaintances. Then I'm off into the Ouseburn night . It's one of the best parts of Newcastle. Up the hill towards The Tanners. Turn right under the bridge to Shieldfield. Past Ernests, a community art space and I'm at the doors of the Cobalt Studios. One of the clutch of venues in Newcastle that offer cheap, affordable artistic nourishment in difficult times.
There's a young man at the counter. He's got one of those inadvisable half hearted attempts at a moustache which seem quite current. He seems angry but friendly. For some reason I think of Dexys Midnight Runners Kevin Archer.
He asks if I've bought a ticket. I say no, I'd like to buy one now. He says 'You'll have to wait for food' A nourishing meal in with the price, usually curry, rice or salad is one of the best things about Cobalt Studios Thursday nights.I'm not bothered about the food tonight.
I'm just glad to be back in the Cobalt Studios again. It's just a nice space to be in. Rows of chairs. Tables. People of all ages chatting together. Likeminded people. It's all quite idyllic actually. Artistic. the word has got out about this place. It's pretty much full. People smile at each other.
Not taking the food option doesn't bother me. I don't bother with it tonight. I'm just happy to be here and have already promised myself that I'll come back in company soon. This is an interesting project. A project for troubled times,
A band come onstage. Four or five players. Wingbeats. Nu Jazz according to the flyer. It immediately ticks all boxes. Not corporate ones perhaps but emotional and spiritual ones. They play a graceful, languid set. The mood is mellow and positive.
I have a chat with the young guy next to me. We agree that places like these are important in times like these. Inclusive ones. He's a medical student and he talks about where his course of study is lacking. It's all about the money. Isn't that what's wrong with the word now. Isn't that what needs to be critiqued and challenged.
Places and spaces like the Cobalt Studio might be a part of the solution. An alternative. I like the place very much.I don't need to stay for the headliners. I've got three classes tomorrow. I thank the young medical student and head for the doors.I say goodbye to Kevin Archer and thank him too. I'll be back.
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