Disco 2000

[Català/English] Ja s’han acabat les festes de nadal amb la melancolia que també queda reflectit en les millors cançons de nadal; aquella sensació agri-dolç de que, sí, és una festa, però també vol dir que ha volat un altre any i cada any falta gent (o en sobre segons com...), que els xiquets es fan gran, que les possibilitats de complir els somnis es van reduint etc. Llavors ve tot seguit la festa de l’any nou, que ve a ser el mateix sentiment. A més és un moment de mirar de cara al futur. Aquesta cançó – perquè el blog, en teoria, se basa en cançons – es dels 90, quan l’any 2000 era al futur però el significat és el mateix independentment de quan ho escoltem. Una lletra amb la qual molts es podem sentir identificats. Mentre passen els anys, creixem, les amistats van i venen, aquella noia/noi, pos, ja no tens possibilitats amb ell/a... però tots acabarem d’una forma o d’una altra vivint una vida simple i mundana, una vida que normalment no ens conten a les cançons.

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Looks like Christmas is over. That sweet yet melancholic time of year, a time to enjoy life but also a time to remember those who aren’t here, and those dreams whose odds of happening are getting longer and longer. Feelings expressed so well in so many of the great Christmas songs. Then it’s New Year around the corner and the same story again – another year over, just what have you done? Also a time to look the future in the face, for better or for worse. Today’s song – because, as long-time readers may recall, the blog is supposed to be song-themed – sums up these feelings for me in a certain context. When it was written, by that great Sheffield poet Jarvis Cocker in the 90s, the year 2000 sounded a far-off exotic future, but the feelings the song offers are just the same whenever you hear it. We all grow up, friends change, that girl/boy you fancied has got married to someone else, your dreams have come partly true or landed in a drawer, but more often than not the future offers you a simple mundane life – unlike the futures most Hollywood-esque songs suggest.

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Oh we were born within one hour of each other
Our mothers said we could be sister and brother
Your name is Deborah, Deborah
It never suited ya
And they said that when we grew up
We'd get married, and never split up
Oh, we never did it, although I often thought of it

Oh Deborah, do you recall?
Your house was very small
With wood chip on the wall
When I came around to call
You didn't notice me at all

And I said let's all meet up in the year 2000
Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown
Be there 2 o'clock by the fountain down the road
I never knew that you'd get married
I would be living down here on my own
On that damp and lonely Thursday years ago

You were the first girl at school to get breasts
And Martyn said that you were the best
Oh the boys all loved you, but I was a mess
I had to watch them trying to get you undressed
We were friends, that was as far as it went
I used to walk you home sometimes but it meant
Oh, it meant nothing to you
'Cause you were so popular

Deborah do you recall?
Your house was very small
With woodchip on the wall
When I came around to call
You didn't notice me at all

And I said let's all meet up in the year 2000
Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown
Be there 2 o'clock by the fountain down the road
I never knew that you'd get married
I would be living down here on my own
On that damp and lonely Thursday years ago
Do it
Oh yeah
Oh yeah

Ah Deborah do you recall?
Oh, your house was very small
With wood chip on the wall
When I came around to call
You didn't notice me at all

And I said let's all meet up in the year 2000
Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown
Be there 2 o'clock by the fountain down the road
I never knew that you'd get married
I would be living down here on my own
On that damp and lonely Thursday years ago

Oh what are you doing Sunday baby
Would you like to come and meet me maybe?
You can even bring your baby
Oh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
What are you doing Sunday baby
Would you like to come and meet me maybe?
You can even bring your baby
Ooh ooh oh oh ooh ooh ooh

Poetry in Sitges

[Català/English] L’altra bogeria poètica que hem fet aquest any va ser allargar-nos a Sitges pel Festival de Poetes. Fa un parell d’anys que un molt bon amic que hi viu allí ens ho recomana i aquest any vam poder anar el dissabte. El festival dura des de divendres tarde fins diumenge a migdia. Bàsicament és un homenatge a set poetes diferents cada any. Son rebudes a l’estació de trens amb una banda de música i desfilada per la ciutat, i desprès ve 3 dies d’actes variats i divertits; obres d’art locals inspirats en les seves poesies, dinars, actes poètics, música, regals pels poetes, etc. El millor que podeu fer és mirar el programaaquí. Nosaltres vam poder assistir als actes del dissabte, incluyent el dinar plena de diversió i recitals on vam compartir taula amb una de les poetes, la Samantha Barendson. Els altres poetes aquest any van ser: Quico Pi de la Serra, Maria Cabrera (qui no va poder venir al final), Josep-Ramon Bach, Josep Porcar, Isabel Ortega, i Ricard Garcia.

Un cap de setmana intens i interessant, us ho puc recomanar.

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The other poetry adventure we went on this year was a trip to Sitges for the Poets’ Festival. An annual homage to seven poets. The poets are met at the station with a brass band and then there is a parade through town, followed by 2 days of fun and excitement; music, gifts, theatre, art, dinners, and of course poetry. We only managed to go on the Saturday but enjoyed a full day of activities. The lunch was amazing, sat at the same table as one of the poets exchanging thoughts and experiences, and then the whole room erupted into songs, jokes, recitals, speeches, a full-blown homage! The programme of events from this year, and list of poets is here – in Catalan.

An appointment with the Emergency Poet

[Català/English] No sóc de grans aventures o tirar el carro pel pedregal, però aquest estiu passat vam fer una cosa que, per a mi, seria una (petita) bogeria. Travessar Anglaterra fent més de tres hores en cotxe (i tres de tornada) per tenir una trobada amb l’Emergency Poet!

Fa un parell d’anys vam descobrir qui era la Emergency Poet (Deborah Alma) quan mon germà ens va regalar una recopilació de poemes recopilació de poemes que ella havia preparat. Poemes que poden ajudar-te davant dels problemes de la vida. Vam investigar i vam descobrir que té una ambulància antiga, adaptada, i va a fires literàries i altres esdeveniments on la gent pot tenir una consultació amb ella. A traves d’una petita conversa, que pot ser més lleugera o més profunda, ella et recepta certes poemes que et poden ajudar amb el que li has explicat. Tant poden ser casos de problemes de solitud, el típic ‘la vida em passa i em faig gran’, tristesa, canvis, falta de canvis, relacions, el que sigui... o també pot fer consultes més divertides i fins i tot per xiquets ja que també visita escoles.

En fi, vam fer hores i hores d’autopista i camins estrets per acabar en un poble de conte (Bishop's Castle), amb l’ambulància de la Emergency Poet aparcat amb força saviesa al parking d’un pub. Ens vam presentar (bé, ja havíem parlat per email per concretar l’hora de la consulta), i després la Silvia i jo vam entrar individualment per a les nostres visites. Va ser molt, però molt, interessant, i ens van receptar 3 poemes cada u. Al final del post, posaré un dels que em va donar. Després, com que ens intriga l’idea del que fa i en volíem saber més, vam passar al pub i amb una pinta de cervesa vam parlar amb la poeta per una hora llarga més, de poemes, literatura, la vida... un dia esplèndid!

 El mateix dia la Deborah també ens va explicar que volia obrir una Farmacia Poetica en una botiga antigua del poble, que acabaria sent una llibreria de poesia i molt més! Explica el projecte aquí.  Fa un parell d'anys es va aconseguir obrir-la!! Aquí el web => Poetry Pharmacy Poetry Pharmacy

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Not one for mad adventures, especially if it involves driving for miles and miles, but last summer I made an exception and ended up driving three hours from one side of England to the other (and three hours back) for an appointment with the Emergency Poet (Deborah Alma)!

We first found out about Deborah through one of the poetry compilations she has put together; a selection of poems grouped into sections for different problems or issues you may be facing in life. On further investigation, we discovered this is actually what she does – holds appointments in the back of her old converted ambulance with ‘patients’ to see what poems may be suitable to help out. People take their serious life problems – sadness, loneliness, missing something etc. – and she listens and chats with you until she decides which poems to prescribe. Or you can go in for an appointment on a lighter note, not everything has to be ground-shattering; or she even holds sessions with school pupils coming up with funny poems they might like. After following her on social media and requesting an appointment in the fairytale town of Bishop’s Castle where she currently lives (we have never managed to coincide at any of the book fairs or literature events she is at, so we eventually decided to drive three hours and go there), last August we stocked the car with sandwiches, tea, and a desire to enjoy the experience and off we went.

After presenting ourselves, we went to the ambulance, usefully parked in a pub car park, and both Silvia and myself had our appointments. It was great fun and highly recommendable. You should definitely check her out if she comes to an event near you. Afterwards, we went into the pub and continued chatting about how and why she’d had this idea, how it works, poetry, literature, life...

All in all, a grand day out. You can read more at her website or check her out on Twitter and Facebook. Finally, here are some photos and one of the poems I was prescribed.

UPDATE April 2019: Deborah is now setting up a Poetry Pharmacy in Bishop's Castle. It sounds wonderful and is explained here at the Kickstarter link where you can actually help bring this project to life!

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The Word – Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between “green thread”
and “broccoli” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”

Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue

but today you get a telegram,
from the heart in exile
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time,
to sit out in the sun and listen.