On TV the other day, I saw an advert for the BBC’s New Talent strand and this time around they are looking for budding musicians to write soundtracks for their nature programmes. Of course, I don’t stand a chance with this because I lack the musical talent, but I popped along to the website to see what the deal was. The BBC gives you a short piece of video to download with the idea that you write specifically for it. As I wasn’t taking this seriously, I looked for a suitable piece in my back catalogue that would fit and entered anyway. Nothing will come of this…but here’s the video and my music to accompany it. Of course, the video is copyright of the BBC and I am probably breaking the law showing you this, but heck, let them take me away. The whole point of this is to see how a random piece of music can fit a piece of video footage. I think this track works as the cymbal splashes seemed to match the birds diving into the sea:
Direct download: CLICK HERE
Meanwhile, my Internet is still iffy. Despite numerous calls and exasperation at their incompetence and the fact that the engineers can’t seem to do anything, I am stuck on getting by with 121kbps – remember folks, it’s mean to be around 4500kbps. Now I am no speed willy waving type, but since this ferrago, I’ve got into the habit of checking my download speed to an almost obsessive level. The Missus thinks this whole incident is having a nasty effect on me. No – it’s just if and when BT Bombay phone me up, I need to know the exact crappy download speed for them when they ask.
At the weekend, we took advantage of the good weather to sit around the pub, get slightly toasted in all senses of the word and generally chill. This is only the second time we’ve done that this year – due to the poor weather so far. Later in the day, I spoke to my mother about something that had been troubling me. “You’ve got to forget it,” she said. And so, when the trouble seems complicated and all consuming and eating away at you, the simplest advice is the most obvious. Sometimes you just have to let go.
I am my father’s son and there’s nothing I can do about it. I cannot deny this or rewrite history. I have to be comfortable with who I am and embrace those parts of me I don’t necessarily like. If I can embrace those parts of me, I can understand them and work on them. I have to like myself and that’s the toughest part. I have to learn to ignore the past and continue on my own way. They owe me as much as I owe them: nothing. My father had his chance back in 1993 and he threw me away for the second time. I realise now that should have been the end of it. After a night’s sleep, I am over it once and for all. If my mother can be over it, then so can I. I feel a lot better and 2006 has been an interesting year for making changes and putting things right.