Round Midnight

....Hidey ho, Kermit the Frog here with another fast breaking news story about your correspondent and his hedonistic life running endlessly through the rat race of this burned out burb, here in the North-East Atlantic, where the sun is already starting to set round mid afternoon, as the ol' girl is regresses into her seemingly natural state of cold, dark and grey.
But it's all right cause you end up not caring really, just flowing along with the rest of the eight millions....currently riding the wave of one of those times where every night is busy and every day filled to overflowing, fuelled endlessly 'off coffee and two minute dinners. Usually these times, like slipping into some wormhole of your own universe, seem to last about a week for me, but this one seems to be spilling over into the fortnight...
No complaints here though, as we're in the middle of the London Jazz Festival, and your humble correspondent has gone all out - Wayne Shorter Quartet last Friday, Cassandra Wilson Monday, Spanish Harlem Orchestra last night (muy sabroso!) and tonight was Michel Camilo and Tomatito. Support act was a Senegalese singer with guitar and percussionist...slept through the first half of course but it was truly great stuff. The main act was incredible - I've been a fan of Camilo for a while now, wouldn't say I love his stuff but it was definitely worth a look....all these big double handers and this little whispery right hand downward thing I'd never seen before.
Currently on world tour to promote their second album, it was to be expected - lots of Spanishy flourishy stuff, famous covers and burning originals, tumbao, flamenco, Cuba, Spain, Argentina, the works, a real concertgoer's concert.
Alas, having napped through a twenty-five quid gig, here I am at a quarter to one AM, sleepless. What to do, what to do...
.......by the way, J-Sax put me on to an Oz show I've been watching on google video called 'The Chaser'? Bloody hilarious!....
So I suppose the main news of late is my impending deportation, due in now less than three months. In a nutshell, all my options seemed closed off, my hopes dashed, and I had resolved to leave. Under a stormy sky I rode up to Primrose Hill with the journal and thrashed it out, made the decision....and then lo and behold, the next day I'm talking to a friend and he puts me on to another friend who may actually have a chance for me. It'll require some heavy blagging and an exorbitant applicaiton fee, but at the moment it's a risk I'm willing to take. More on that as news comes to hand...