At the height of the summer, a couple of weeks after our relaxing break in Florence, my thoughts turned to ways to maintain the blissed-out holiday feeling once the daily routine had kicked in again. A list - probably never for general publication - was my characteristic response.

As you'll see, I didn't get very far. This was for entirely good reasons: the blissed-out holiday feeling never went away and - touch wood - the stresses and strains of earlier this year remain utterly tamed. This list of simple, selfish pleasures languished in draft status until I came across it tonight, when I was immediately struck by its second item.

It's now twenty-five to one in the morning and I'm listening not to a whole John Peel show, but to the two-hour tribute that occupies what would be his usual Radio 1 programme slot. This wasn't quite what I had in mind.


This year I've mostly caught his programme when setting the clock radio before going to bed, occasionally pausing for longer than expected before flicking the switch to "Alarm", distracted by the latest and greatest in nosebleed techno or some vintage 1970s reggae.

All those missed opportunities to listen to him suddenly seem like the thoughtless squandering of a precious and unique resource. As Joni Mitchell put it, "Don’t it always seem to go, That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone." Who on earth is going to play this music now?

The alarm clock memory is more relevant than it might intially seem. The death of anyone who you have loved or respected is always a wake-up call.


(Update: just realised that I have subconsciously appropriated the Joni Mitchell quote from the most recent item on the Troubled Diva linkrack.)

Posted by Hg on Wednesday 27 October 2004 at 00:41.
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