Tis the gift to be simple by Trevor Plumbly

The philosopher’s stoned Yesterday, I was relaxing in the armchair (the dreamspace), sipping rather a nice single malt, contemplating the vagaries of life and it occurred to me that there’s a degree of comfort about things when you’re approaching 80. Time was I used to think I knew it all, now I’m absolutely sure of it. Over the years I’ve read heaps of stuff by deep thinkers, academics, learned clergy and even educated drunks, but nothing tangible emerged from their musings and I’m now convinced I know a bloody sight more about… Read More

Song of songs by Trevor Plumbly

Musical lessons I’m sick to death of American politics. I want to write about something more uplifting than the daily doings of Biden, Trump and Co. What about music? Like most folk, I don’t have a tuneful voice; British education tried to correct that by holding ‘music’ periods in infant schools. Ours involved a rail thin Miss Folster thumping away at a piano in an effort to nurture a gang of misfits into choral harmony. It was a brave effort on her part, but doomed to failure, largely due to the song… Read More