Seb Palmer

Wow! We used to play this tune a lot in my band, Capricorn. I didn’t know there was a little film for the song. I only found that out today! What a great number, what a great little film, and what a terrific band.

A lovely little back-road – which actually climbs what passes for hills in the flatlands of East Angular! – I far prefer to drive on than the A-roads in this area.

Being just off The Great North Road/Ermine Street, ‘Rogues Lane was noted for highwaymen.’ According to a local history website (read more here). I’m not sure about this, but I fancy Dick Turnip might’ve been fairly local.

And not far away, lay Caxton Gibbet, where such rogues might wind up, dancing the Tyburn Jig, for the entertainment and edification of locals and passers by!

Teresa and I looked at a property on this fab country road. I can’t recall now if it was a rental, or sale? Would’ve been nice to have a home address that was on Rogues Lane, methinks.

* In the background, the burnt out shell (now replaced by a complex of McDonalds, Subway, etc.) of what was once the Gibbet Inn, and – when it (was?) burned down – the (rather good) Yim Wah Chinese restaurant.

Another nice car spotted whilst out delivering. This one is for sale. But I didn’t bother asking the price. As I have absolutely no money. A beautiful model/colour. But a bit ‘souped up’. The alloy wheels are alright. But the red grill!? Hmmm… not so sure!

Well… I went to our local Sainsburys, to collect Teresa, when who should I spy crossing the car park? Chester!

Initially it was just… oh, look at that black cat. He looks exactly like Chester. Then I thought, ok, maybe it is Chester! What’s he doing so far from ours!?

He’d gone into some bushes. But calling to him brought him back out. And sure enough, it was Chester. As well as being nigh on invisible under many conditions, black cats can be almost indistinguishable.

But a little shaven patch on the back of his neck/shoulders, from a recent visit to the vet, in addition to my just knowing it was him, and his obviously recognising me, sealed the certainty.

It wasn’t easy to get him in the car. Nor, once in there, to have him remain there, whilst I got Teresa. he seemed distressed, miaowing a lot. Did he follow Teresa, when she walked to the shops?

Once we were all in the car – normally he’d be in his cat-carrier – he seemed to calm down. It was really very sweet watching him explore the car freely.

What a relief it was to finally get home, and get him indoors. We had him tucking into some food, and purring away, ASAP.

Phew!!!

Out and about, delivering for Amazon/Morrisons. This is St (?), Bassingbourn.

Some recent interaction on Facebook made me think of Egg’s first and only single, 1969’s Seven Is A Jolly Good Time.

It’s not my favourite track by this fab group, from the hugely interesting Canterbury Scene era. But I do like it. As much for its subject/sentiment, as the music.

I have to thank my Goldsmith’s College pal Brennan Young for introducing me to this particular ‘beat combo’. Thanks, buddy!

I decided I’d poichase what I could of their catalogue. So I’ve ordered CDs of their self-titled 1970 debut, The Polite Force (‘71), The Civil Surface (‘74), and The Metronomical Society.

The latter, a 2007 release, is, according to burningshed.com ‘a collection of live and studio recordings made by the pioneering trio between 1969 and 1972. It features archive material unheard for nearly 40 years, including a sizeable segment of Egg’s last Roundhouse concert which demonstrates the group’s live power. Also included are superior versions of tracks from the band’s radio sessions, previously available only on poor-quality bootlegs.’

One immediately odd thing is that the cover of Metronomical Society pictures a quartet, when the band was – as far as I know – only ever a trio. Perhaps the booklet that comes with this CD will illuminate or clarify?

The video immediately above plays the version of this song many, myself included, will most likely know. There are of course many others. Some of which this post includes.

Pete Seeger himself tells this story of the songs origin, as you can hear here:

There are loads of folk doing versions of this classic online, mostly attempting to emulate the Pete Seegers/Weavers version. But some do later more pop/country type takes, more in the Jimmie Rodgers or Peter, Paul & Mary line (the latter performing here with Andy Williams):

There are a couple of more interesting ones, however, including one by Pete Seeger himself, doing a banjo version (see below), and this one:

What I like about the above – which is quite a raw almost clumsy sounding rendition – is that the guy going it is going back to the Leadbelly version. He even refers to the trad Irish tune ‘Drimmin Down’, that he says is the songs Irish origin. I’ll have to check that out!

Huddie – pronounced ‘who-dee’ – Leadbetter plays it on a 12-string. I’ve not seen or heard anyone else (yet) do it that way. I might do it. And I might also jazz it up harmonically. Hmmm!?

I wonder what Leadbelly and his Irish influences would’ve thought of the Jimmie Rogers version? Guitarists, note Rogers’ use of the ‘over the top’ thumb! Mind, he might’ve just been miming.

And coming back full circle, to The Weavers’ version, here they are doing it live at Carnegie Hall, way back in ‘55:

Our old pal Patrick is staying over with us today/tonight, which is nice. He and I have both suffered from serious depression in recent times. Patrick longer and poss’ deeper into the blackness than me, to be fair.

So it’s nice that we both feel sufficiently well we can socialise with each other! In person, that is. We’ve been in touch via Zoom. Teresa served up the second instalment of her delicious winter stew, with dumplings. And we had apple pie and custard for dessert. Lovely!

We watched The Young Pitt, a 1942 wartime propaganda film, starring Robert Donat, who we know better for his role in The 39 Steps. Here he plays both Pitt the Younger, and his own father, Lord Chatham! I really enjoyed the movie, despite its obvious patriotic chest-thumping, perhaps mainly ‘cause I’m a nut for anything pertaining to the Napoleonic era?

But to the model: my abandoned and largely stripped Tiger I. Today I zimm’ed the two sides of the hull. This was a proper arse-ache, having to work around all the little skirt/mudguard mounting doodads.

I also assembled the gun and turret. The tank I’m building has no rear-turret storage bin. So I left that out. More trickily, however, this kit has spare tracks built in to the turret sides! I had to cut these out and then fabricate curved sheets to fill the gaps (see pics below).

The observant might also spot that the commander’s cupola hatch is open. This was another wee job that entailed much time and effort. As the original part was one piece, I had to carefully cut out the hatch, add some internal detail, and then re-mount it, but in an open position.

This is all obviously a step or three back from the pictures at the top of this post. Those show the turret fully de-tracked, rebuilt, with zimmerit and the open command hatch added.

Another little area of detail I quite enjoyed fabricating was the underside of the commander’s hatch. The kit part was bare underneath. I needed to add a reinforcing ring, and the three handles. Making the latter being a fun challenge.

Cutting out the commander’s hatch inevitably damaged the inner portion of the outer ring, a little, as can be seen in the above pic. I might try to restore that somehow? And, somewhat obviously, my scratch-built detailing of the underside of the hatch is perhaps both coarse, and rather chunkily oversized.

Sometimes kits like this have certain oddities of design. For example, on – or rather in – the commander’s cupola, vision blocks are included. Yet if you were to assemble the kit as per the instructions, you’d never see these details!

And yet there’s no other internal turret detail. Some kits would include the internal breech-block end of the main armament. Not so here, alas.

This animated series was a Franco-Canadian project, which brought together all the Tintin ‘albums’ in a consistent animated form, intended to remain as close to the books as possible. Read more about it here.

For this alone I adore this series. Unlike the original albums, these aren’t perfect. But as far as animated versions go, they’re the best I’ve seen so far. For some of us the nostalgia associated with the theme tune will in itself be worth the price of admission.

I have to confess that I really hated the Spielberg/Jackson Tintin. It did to Hergé’s creation what Jackson et al did to the LOTR, and even more so, The Hobbit, eschewing the ‘homely’ aspects, and totally overdoing (egregiously introducing) Hollywood style blockbuster adrenaline action.