I have now booked a week at Tango Mango and have spent some time at Bilborough covering for biology and english. There is always something new to learn about Othello and, for the first time today, I learned that that there are intercostal muscles on both sides of the rib cage, the one set contracting while the other expands. At last my telecom plus 'cards' are ready for the press; I cannot afford to pass up Bilbo. work, which has been coming thick and fast of late with all the colds about. There will be plenty of time to devote to selling when work is thin on the ground.

Ads. have been distributed around local shops in time for guitar Christmas presents. Kirsty, who started on Monday seems most promising; she is dead keen and has a clear sense of rhythm; she obviously listens to alot of music. The rotating vocada, or whatever it is called is devilishly difficult. I must trust my own and my partner's sense of balance, and banish the sway back and twisted spine. The 'Mango' should help in that dept. but I must make my local individual effort too. Time for a little more guitar prac. before salsa prep. and bed. Who knows, Geraldine may summon me early tomorrow morn, for all that I could do with a clear up morning.

I am pleasantly tired, after a satisfying few days. We have just sung Evensong to a minute congregation. There were two middle aged black men in the stalls. Whether their presence had occasioned the prayers for the Church in Sudan I know not. Both the lessons were 'End of Days' material; from Daniel, the Abomination of Desolation and, from Revelation, the Beast No. 666.

Christopher Tye's 'Nunc Dimitis' and psalm 119 with 3 tunes were more thrilling for me than that awkward poem by Ursula Vaughan Williams for St. Cecilia's Day. Yes, the Howells' setting is dramatic but cannot stop 'a silver chain and golden as her hair' from jarring.

Bilborough students continue to impress me; they pick up dance steps very quickly and the accomplished are solicitous in aiding their peers who struggle. The Christian Union 'Grill a Christian' session was remarkable on two counts. The skeptic students had done their biblical research and deftly pointed out several contradictions. The 'panel of experts' were obnoxiously self righteous. They knew exactly which bits of the Bible were merely 'period oddities' to be ignored, and which were eternal divine truth. In other words they trashed the bits they did not like and built their arrogance on supposed adherence to their particular take.

Last night's St. Cecilia's Day Concert at the Minster was superb. Marcus' bass voice has improved no end with training, experience and maturity. Such variety there was from music entirely early 20th century and French. My current fatigue arises from the three hours of post concert dancing. It was great to watch Wilson and Amanda make such variety from the merengue. Anna was predictably wonderful dancing the salsa with me, but declined a later invitiation to join me in a bachata.

Back to the 'Grill a Christian' reflection. 'The panel' felt able to dismiss St. Paul on haircuts and the silence of women but were convinced of JC's miracle working. Albert Schweitzer writes of early C19 theologians, some of them Christian, who realised that for a readership enlightened, rational and scientific, the miracles were no longer credible. Stories about them had, however been essential in 1st century Palestine for any preacher, never mind a potentially Messianic one, to have any credibility. Tomorrow must address the disorder in the home and wardrobe and make plans for making money in between reading 'The Jewish War'; yes, I have at last finished the 'Antiquities'. It finishes with war loomin ever closer. The last chapters were more 'I Claudius' than the Bible. Palestine comes across as very much a Roman colony, dependent upon successive emperor's whims.

Am returning to regular guitar practice. With a new sound system I can play electric guitar with confidence. That will be my badge. Must prepare some shop window ads and distribute them at the week's end.

Tango in Huddersfield was well worth the trip through the rain and sleet. Roy and Claire were great company. We have more than tango in common. Roy also has a copy of Keble Martin's 'Concise British Flora' and can cut and lay a hedge, and Claire has a Ph.D in Archaeobotany. I must learn to utilise a variety of moves both seamlessly and at short notice.

Jesus and John the Baptist rate one short paragraph each in Josephus' 'Antiquities', compared to Herod and his string of chapters. I have yet to hear Peter Lawley's reaction to my comments on his choir's Christmas programme notes. Surely he does not think it a revelation to declare that the 25 December fixture for Christmas. is a date symptomatic of Christianity's marriage of convenience with the Roman establishment.

I am tempted to visit Devon again in the spring; this time for 'Tango Mango' - an intensive tango experience at Dartington. Time now for tea and a little more of Albert Shweitzer's book on the historic Jesus.

What a short and bitty entry that was. This is not secret like Pepys; quite the contrary. Hence it may appear a little demure.

A Complete Week

A little has been done, though as many items have been added to the 'to do' list as have been crossed off. This w/e has but one external fixture, a tango workshop and milonga in Huddersfield. Beata Maia Gellert's previous workshop was most instructive and well worth the trip up the M1 and the hazards of an unfamiliar ring road.

Josephus' work, I can only absorb in small chunks. But 100 pages of the'Antiquities' to go, and Herod is still alive. Adam lived for 930 years and only merits a couple of sides. Herod's c. 70 years take up 100s of pages. Reflection and notes on this work and others, together with Peter Lawley's most constructive comments on my 'Jesus' chapter, will be a great help when I come to recast 'Paradise Delayed'.

Josephus has been leavened by some easier reading, some books by my contemporaries who, although of widely differing backgrounds from me, and from each other, are not so remote as a 1st century priest from the Jerusalem Temple. Paul Pellicoro is a master of tango; he stresses the primacy of sensitivity and communication; they must be synthesised with technique. It is the first book on tango where I can follow the diagrams. That is probably because I have now at least attempted the figures he depicts. I doubt that I could have learned much from the pics and diagrams alone.

Ali Abunimah's 'One Country' is a compelling argument for a united Palestine/Israel. The 'Road Map' to a 2 state solution he sees as the route to an unsustainable Mid East apartheid. Peoples who are interwined by territory, family and economics cannot be split apart into separate polities. The West Bank and Gaza could only ever become a bantustan. The 'End of Days' elements of Jewry, Christendom and Islam are hardly visible in his book, even in the margins. The defusing of tension that a united state would bring, would, if all worked out, render them all but irrelevant. Today, all three remain powerful forces.... I must learn to describe this clearly for 'Apocalypse Delayed'.

Bilborough work has been most welcome this week, and the salsa session was very successful. At this stage the students prefer constant direction and guidance. If the course can continue into next term, they may feel sufficiently confident and equipped to devise their own sequences and to improvise; meanwhile close guidance is required.

Must promote my guitar lessons anew and work likewise on my own technique.

Time now to do the 'to do' list.

Catchup Time

I have just watched the Sasha Cagen 'movie' about 'to do lists' and her forthcoming book on the subject. Watching that was not on my 'to do' list for today, but writing this blog was; 'blogging,' however, had a low priority compared with activities that might contribute to an income.

I revised my programme. The last few days have been so full that postponement of writing them up would have left many details unrecorded. During Friday I discovered that so many School and Church Christmas Fairs, which, I had been advised, should be fertile ground for 'Telecom Plus' recruitment, were only interested in craft stalls. For once I skipped the post choir practice gathering at the pub as I had an early morning train to catch.

Lorna and Tariq had promised me a quite undeserved 60th birthday treat; a weekend in London with live entertainment of my own choice. I am well aware that for their joint 60th/65th celebrations the lunch was on them. The weekend turned out, for all three of us, to be quite wonderful. Even the train journey was enlivened by my completing the reading of 'Wise Children', Angela Carter's novel, celebrated in my last entry.

Our first entertainment was the Lord Mayor's Show. Any worries about a smooth RV evaporated as soon as I walked through St. Paul's churchyard and saw Lorna. Lined up with the crowds at the side of the road, waiting for the bands and floats, I felt as if transported to Leigh Broadway, opposite Hawken's shop, waiting for Captain Barton, the Fire Engine, the Kursaal Flyer and all the other regulars of Southend Carnival in the 1950s. The mass of local, commercial and 'community' entries were sandwiched between the elegant carriages of the City Livery Companies. The finest band was, of course, the RM Band from Dartmouth, and of the Carnival and School Bands the Bluecoats were the most impressive. Lorna, ever the celebrity spotter, was especially pleased to see Peter Duncan, now Chief Scout, but perhaps the greatest daredevil ever to front Blue Peter. The George in Southwark was the lunch venue. The surroundings so simple and homely, - plaster, wood and the blacked iron around the fireplace - as 'basic' as the Public Bar of the Crooked Billet in the early 60s.

It was quite wonderful talking to Olly, over a coffee, after the Parade. He is so optimistic and confident. As the morning's procession had been redolent of Southend Carnival, so Olly's ambitions and plans were redolent of mine over 25 years ago. Both of us in the Forces; both doing musical gigs on the side. We both quite like the Forces and are well aware of all the benefits, financial as well as social. Freelance doings, however, become central. My own experience of ever declining fortunes leaves me with some foreboding for Olly. At least I can write with a full 'pros and cons' analysis of any decision he must make. Olly will, of course, make of my comments whatever he chooses. I can only communicate.

Olly went to Dover for the Dukies' Remembrance Day and L. T. and I went to the Coliseum to see Aida. Everything in the production worked beautifully; Radames sounded a little forced at first but soon warmed up. Aida's voice was mellifluous throughout. And as for the set and costumes; it was the triumphal puppet elephant that I rememeber most.

Even Sunday brought unexpected, and high quality, live entertainment. We watched the march past from the Cenotaph; we were standing near Big Ben as 11 o'clock sounded. Sunday Lunch at Covent Garden was not only the lovely grub ( swordfish, mash and beans); we had a powerful soprano singing operatic lollipops as well as a string quintet to entertain us.

Tea at Tariq's Club rounded off the weekend. The Civil Service Club was packed with old soldiers etc. who had been on parade in the morning. A walk to King's Cross and home on the train, tram and car brought a fabulous weekend to a close.

The first paragraph today was about 'to do' list. I must now assault mine and will report tomorrow on any progress.

Old Identities Revived

Two past lives have returned. I followed up an agency enquiry from a satisfied client from the last millennium. Hopefully a gig will result, as 'Spicy Advice' are just the ticket for a family house party in the weeks before Christmas. With all the waiting and wondering, and musicians holding one engagement while waiting for news from another, it was a reminder of why I am no longer an entertainment agent; that and the memory of isolation and no real money, never mind promise of a residual income.

Meanwhile, back in Josephus; there's nearly a quarter of Jewish Antiquities to go and Herod has already built the Temple.

It was heartening to know that the Brasserie in Kidderminster want the Gondoliers back for an Italian night next March. Fortunately I keep my voice in fairly regular exercise at Southwell.
Yesterday's Eng. Lit. lesson brought a pleasant surprise; an intro. by the students to a new (for me) author and book. Angela Carter's 'Wise Children' is a novel written as the memoirs of twin chorus dancers looking back on their 75 years from the perspective of 1989. The snatches of songs, the furnishings, the dress, and habits described from the 20s and 30s are redolent of the domestic backdrop of my 50s childhood.

Nan would sing 'See me Dance the Polka' , an early dance school favourite of the twins. One girl had a quickie with a free Pole. Mum married one. Went back today for salsa, complete with own sound system; a more formal, and more productive lesson than last week. Anna is superb as a demo. partner and deserved her round of applause. Last night's dancing at the 'Up and Down Under Bar' did not produce a better partner than Anna, though that balletic, flamboyant Chilean lady is most intriguing.

Now, before prep. for my birthday treat w/e (thanks Lorna and Tariq), must address myself to label printing and business card ordering, tray clearing, list making; or I really will be flat broke.

A Most Prosaic Day

A beautiful autumn day, and a reminder of how long a hill I have to climb with Telecom Plus. No Christmas Fairs booked as yet. No business card quotation from Prontaprint. Must keep scattering the seed. Some will no doubt germinate; it certainly has for many (albeit a minority) who now reap rich harvests.

Still a quarter of Josephus' 'Antiquities' to read and we've already reached King Herod. A horrible world of schemers and power crazy politicians, warriors and murderers is described; I cannot keep track of all the machinations. It is intriguing, however, to see Antony and Cleopatra playing such large roles here, when they never appear in the Bible.

To Bilborough tomorrow pm. Some human contact will be welcome. I will tackle 'Paradise Delayed' after receiving at least Peter Lawley's feedback on the complete work. He has been most constructive so far; whether Ron or Helen, Marek or Olly will be forthcoming on more than Chapter One I do not know. At least I got through a pile of ironing today.

Afew Positive Things

Tango vocabulary of moves slowly increases. Am now sufficiently au fait with the 'Sandwich' the boleo, barrida and gancho. It is well worth the climb. Tango heights must be magnificent.

Was I the only viewer of the news to see the parallel between the Jehovah's Witness lady who died in childborth rather than receive a blood transfusion, and MI5's report that Al Quaedr recruitment of the very young in the UK has moved up a gear? Textual literalism is foul. If Judaism, Christianity and Islam all took their sacred texts really seriously, none would be a religion of peace.

I have made afew more moves with Telecom Plus and there's a couple more day's teaching at Biborough. This little piece is purely personal therapy. Had I not written this I would have presumed an all but empty day had drawn to a close. Ella had worked well for her guitar lesson too. May tomorrow be even more fruitful.

Placido Domingo

I will write now before going dancing; I'll be too tired later. Am continuing to read Josephus' Jewish Antiquities. It is so like the History Channel. There is copious detail on the century or two before the author's lifetime. From Antiochus' defilement of the Temple in 167BCE until the Temple's destruction in 70CE takes up more space than the whole of Jewish history from Adam till Antiochus. If there's records extant you can base your story on something. For TV there's few moving, talking pics of historical events before WW2. That's why Arthur Smith called the History Channel the Hitler Channel.

It (Josephus' Antiquities) is written, though, with the same tone throughout; a catalogue of power struggles, jealousy, conspiracy, great battles and massacres. 'Jewishness' seems to require nothing more than correct observance of a mass of peculiar rituals. The law must be observed to the letter to avoid God's wrath. That is the beginning and the end of Jewish morality. So much for those who would dismiss 'literalist' interpretations of sacred texts as a latterday 'fundamentalist' aberration. Josephus was a Biblical literalist.

I went to Calverton Car Boot in the morning, hoping to interest potential distributors in joining my team. (for details see www.telecomplus.org.uk/rowland ) A largesse of cards to stallholders may yield results. An e.mail from a charity/ community fundraiser prospect has just popped up. I thought, at the Car Boot, how horrified Gerrard Winstanley would have been; the Sabbath defiled by an orgy of Buying and Selling, the only capital offences in his 'New Law of Freedom' - Read 'Paradise Delayed' when it is published. All will be explained.

Opening Fanfare - Well, an opening.......

Hello Blogosphere and all its citizens.

This is the place where all my interests meet. Family and friends, yes, but also .....there will be more. The general impression will arise from the serial particular. Definition will, at length, be manifest.

That is all for today; save to say, that by the end of 2008 I will be a published writer, a capable tango dancer and will have secured, by other means, a small and growing residual income.

I will be back tomorrow, and most tomorrows thereafter.