Beep Beep.....

A number of things pushed me on to write this blog this morning, but most probably it involves the young guy I nearly ran down with my car today. Granted it was still around 7am, and quite dark too, but that is no excuse...or is it?

This particular young man, after hollering outside my car windscreen, jumped back on his bicycle-converted-to-motorcycle contraption, and spluttered off, leaving me and a goodly number of onlookers gaping at him.

Looking at his receding back, I could see that he had no lights, no fluorescent vest, and worst of all, a black jacket. Ah. That is why I didn't see him then. The fact that he had no safety helmet on, I think, did not occur to him at all.

So, in a roundabout way, I am coming to the point of what I want to say. The government says there are way too many cars on the road. And I agree. So that is why we are seeing a proliferation of these death-traps on the road.

Buy a cheap bicycle, import an engine from ebay for a mere hundred euros, bolt it on the frame...and there you go. A registration fee of five malta liri, and you're good to go!

What the heck is wrong with this country? I have a little 50cc Gilera motorbike for which I have to pay MY drivers license and the bike's road-tax and insurance. Not to mention the dreaded VRT.

How can this be?

Let's compare the two items in question. Both machines have 2 wheels. Both have a frame, and a saddle, and err...brakes....but wait, wait.

Let's REALLY compare them.

The converted bicycle has two thin tyres very prone to bursting at high speeds, as well as a thin uncomfortable saddle bolted onto a narrow aluminium frame that is not meant to handle high speeds. Braking, as one can imagine, is an absolute joke. Try stopping a bicycle going at seventy kilometres an hour on two little rubber blocks! Safety is nothing short of hilarious. These drivers are not asked to wear a helmet. Or God forbid, have front and rear lights.

On the other hand my little Gilera has two thick high-speed capable tyres, a comfortably padded seat with storage space beneath it. The frame is welded in a number of places to ensure safety. Powerful shock absorbers amortize the disc-braking system and a nice little windscreen deflects the wind comfortably away from my helmet-protected head. Powerful lights at the front and back make a good job of advising other commuters on the road that a motorbike is approaching.

So, really, there is no comparison is there? My bike is far more safe on the road...both to me and to others.

So can anyone tell me why the heck I have to fork out ALL that money to keep what is essentially a bicycle with wheels on the road? While the other guy pays nothing for using the same road, albeit with dangerous equipment.

I sincerely propose that for motorcycles up to 100 cubic centimetres, one simply pays a one-time registration tax...and that's it.

I can guarantee that up to a fifth of cars will disappear from the Maltese roads, especially in spring and summer. And why not. Mopeds are easy to drive and cheap to run. They use clean, efficient, unleaded fuel, cause less hassle on the road and are a doddle to park. Buying a moped doesn't necessitate breaking the bank with a loan. Being fun to drive is an added bonus.

So if the government really wants to do something (which I doubt), my advice would be to liberalise the sub-100cc motorcycle market.

So Cold....and so dispirited.

It's eight in the morning, I am already at work, but earning my way through the day couldn't be further from my mind than it already is. The air-conditioning unit is on, struggling to keep the place warm, and mostly managing...but I feel so cold. Colder than I have felt for some time now.

I should be a bit happy in the knowledge that at least it's Friday today, and a weekend is stretching in front of us all. But no, I will probably be here in for work tomorrow. At least it will be quiet and I will be able to earn some extra wages as well. In all probability I will miss another 'Thorn' rehearsal, but at the moment, the band seems to be going through a sticky patch, and there is not much to rehearse for. So what is the point of continuing at all?

Sure I enjoy playing live and all that, but the occasions have become so few and far in between that I wonder why I bother at all. Last Tuesday was another damp squib, managing to play a couple of songs in all, but generally listening to everybody grumble and moan. Me, I just kept my mouth shut. And I missed a great football match between Brazil and Italy. No. Definitely not worth it then.

We seem to have lost that spark so cruelly taken away just as we seemed to be regaining our popularity, when Clive (drums) called it quits, and even though his replacement is more than up to the task, Clive brought with him a certain flair. Then Jade's retirement and consequent passing away was another nail in the coffin, so to speak. We badly need a synth to complement our songs.

So where do we stand? I don't know actually. Part of me wants to keep on playing with the band, learning more as time goes by, or simply give it all up and concentrate on the other band, primarily a Christian Rock and Gospel type, which seems to attract people who are more than happy to hear us play. I thought it would be just because of our service during mass on Sunday at ten, but no. We have experimented with a couple of 'short shows' at odd times, especially on Sunday evenings, and people still come to hear us. Hmm. Seems like there is a goodly amount of people who are content listening to the diversity of songs we play. Some have even asked us for recordings.

All these thoughts could probably be just musings coming from the fact that with this damp weather my arthritis is driving me round the bend with pain and fatigue. No matter how long I sleep or how much I dress up, the ever-pervading damp is still there to suck on my bones, my strength and my will to move a muscle.

And God...how I miss the sun. How I miss that great big yellow ball of relief from the blasted damp. And of coures, I miss summer, with its' dips in the cool sea, and the relaxing evening nights on the roof, having a beer with my friends and my brothers.

Yes, I can't wait until this bloody season is over.

What a load of cobblers.

While we were on our weekend break at Selmun, it just happened that there was the Eurovision Song for Malta festival. While I am not a fan of soppy songs and all the corruption that comes with this travesty of music, my kids and wife usually like to watch it.

So it was no bother to me to have a lie-down in bed and actually watch events as they unfolded. And I have some comments to make. Timed at nearly four and a half hours, the competition was way too long. The adverts made up for half that time. Is that legal at all? I thought there was a legal limit as to the proportion.

The presenters? God almighty, I've seen wooden spoons that were far more animated than those two on stage.

And the songs? I could pick a handful that were above average, but only just. The winning song wasn't a song at all. Chiara tried to use her voice to carry her to victory, which she did. I tried listening to it, honestly, but I have rarely heard such a tuneless song. I dare anyone to try and whistle or hum the tune to it. You can't...there simply is none!

And finally, here is a pic of me and the wife watching the contest and occasionally falling to sleep.

All in another year's funny Eurovision. I am accepting bets that we won't make it past the semi-finals.

Gigantic Aircraft

Truly Spectacular

Doctors, butterflies and dreams.

It has been some time since I wrote something on my blog, and to be honest, I should be completely ashamed of myself. Here I am, an aspiring writer (without much hope) neglecting his homework. But for a diverse number of reasons, I have to confess to my sins with a number of, not really excuses, but happenings in these two months that have shaken my foundations.

A lot of things have happened as I already mentioned, but most importantly and sadly, has been the unexpected passing away of two dear friends. Two friends whom I never ever imagined that I would outlive, let alone look back in fondness on.

The first was the stroke that Dr.Karl Chirchop suffered. It was an incapacitating blow that struck this young gentle person. Now, politics has nothing to do with this since me and Karl go a little while back along the years. Many people know KC through his political work, but I wasn't one of them. Karl was actually our family GP, a Liverpool fan, and a hoot to talk to. The fact that I am on the opposite side of his political stands only spurred us to greater debates and thoughts. Karl passed away a month after his stroke, and his death left a great emptiness in my heart.

At his funeral service, I could see how much this man meant to so many people. Too young to go at only 42. KC, you are already sorely missed.

The second death, and one that struck so close to home was the passing away of our erstwhile feisty pianist Jade Brincat. Dying at twenty-one of a heart-attack is almost unheard of. Dying at twenty-one of an attack brought about by a simple anti-biotic is even more horrific. Jade had a history of heart palpitations not too many people knew about. The antibiotic which she took for a chest infection struck her just as she suffered one of her palpitations, resulting in a swift death.

The news came through at work. A mate of mine poked his head round my office door and said... "I don't want to alarm you or anything, but word is going around the factory that Jade died."

I remember looking up and saying that it probably was her grandmother who had been in hospital for some time.

Sandro replied that he had already heard that and that it was being denied. I recall leaping off my chair and going off to find Ruby-Ann who works with us at Gavazzi. I saw Glenn and Ruby down near the reception area, and at that moment my legs fell out from beneath me. A sense of bewilderness spread over me and all I could hear was the buzzing of the girls who were shocked at the news.

Needless to say, a lot of thoughts were being spoken out loud...being a rocker, a goth, ah, you know...rockers these days. I was so angry at those words.

I went down to Glenn and Ruby who confirmed my worst fears. the attack had taken her life swiftly and her parents had only a few seconds to reach out to their daughter.

It seems that Jade died in the ambulance on the way to hospital.

I cannot describe my grief. No words can ever hope to convery my despair at this friend's passing.

I cried and cried all through the following week...messages flooded my phone and my mailbox, as well as Stillborn's website. I felt this death so much... so so much. I used to pick up Jade on the way to the band, take her back home, meet up in church on Sunday evenings, pick her up on the way to work, and generally have a largely good time with loads of laughter punctuating the air. Jade was such a funny, lovable little person, and to this day I cannot fathom out why I felt her passing so much. She was much like the little sister I never had. My kids spent every last tear they had. They loved her with a passion.

Needless to say, the funeral service was chock-full, with practically every worker from Gavazzi attending, as well as the huge number of rockers that packed the parish church at Paola. It was so emotional and moving. I have never seen Raphael so distraught either, as we wept for our fallen friend.

Even now as I write, I am looking at her picture and feel the sorrow coming on again...

About a week after her funeral, I was still downcast and sad.

Until I had the dream.

I dreamt I was with my wife at hospital, walking along, when who should I see but Jade? She was wearing one of her usual black outfits, and she bade me to follow her. She went into a room, which promptly started to glow with an unearthly bright light, and Jade returned to us wearing an all-white smock with gilted edges, glowing bright yellow. At that point she hugged me and kissed me on the cheeks, telling me, 'Do you believe?'... We walked together to the exit, and in my disbelief asked her if she could, like, float...she smiled and hovered above the floor for a few seconds, before settling down with a giggle. I could only stare at her for a few moments. Jade started walking out of the door, and I can recall exactly that the sensor did not catch her presence, and she went on straight through the glass plate as if it wasn't even there. I think it was at that precise moment that I realised what she was trying to show me.

Out of the door I went with my wife. Jade turned to us and said. 'I guess this is goodbye until we meet again. Yes, until we meet again.'

At that point she spread her wings, held out her hands and rose up until she vanished from our view. An angel reaching out to the heaven that she so believed in...yes I believed.

Immediately I woke up, with a new feeling in my heart. Yes, Jade, our little butterfly had gone, no longer gracing us with her music, her mad giggle, her funny clothes and warm soul...but she would always be in our hearts and minds. Until we meet again.

I could already imagine her creating chaos in heaven as she tries to get the angels to try out nose-rings or black lip-stick! Not to mention playing Heavy Metal for them!

This was on a Saturday, and I had to talk to somebody about it. Well, what are friends for after all? I called a young priest friend of mine, who said that he had no doubt that she had talked to me through a dream. He was absolutely sure that she had reached our God in heaven, and He had sent a message to me to rest my grieving heart. Although I supposed he was right, I could hardly believe it.

Until the next day, when something extraordinary happened that put all the pieces in place.

We were pottering up on the roof after a particularly windy night which had destroyed our roof-top garden.

I was up with my wife and Roxanne, when we started talking about her again. We started talking about the last barbecue we had up there, when we got really plastered. Jade had passed out on the roof, and Ruby-Ann was close to going as well. Nothing would make Raphael lose it, while I recall being a bit unsteady. I told my wife that I really missed her, but I was convinced she was at rest.

Suddenly we closed our mouths as a great big brown and orange butterfly fluttered out of nowhere. I had not seen a King Butterfly in Malta for loads of years. But this one was as huge as a platter! The butterfly danced around me, before settling down on my wife's hair. We were struck speechless at this showing of God's magnificent creation. Roxanne looked on with awe as the butterfly lifted off, flew around her head, and then rose out of view.

I guess it was this last happening that really confirmed my beliefs.

Why is it that some people's loss affects you most? Is it because of their goodness, their unfailing help, or the total trust they offer you? Who knows...for me it has been a bizarre but self-healing experience.

First there was the dream, in which I was inclined to believe...then there was the butterfly incident, which totally convinced me.

When I think of Jade these days, it is usually with a grin and a contended sigh. Why should I grieve for someone who has finally found her place with the Lord? Yes my heart has finally settled and lost the stone that was resting heavily on it. I still mourn the physical person that was Jade obviosly, but content with the knowledge that there is a new star in heaven tonight.

And the other Angels are probably wearing black lip-gloss, have their noses pierced and listening to Heavy Metal right now as we speak!

S T U P E N D O U S !

The first rains of autumn coincided with the morning that my blasted flu' took over. And so being quite unable to sleep, I decided to make my way to the rather large balcony doors that face south on to the gardens, eager to catch some of the majesty that the night skies were unleashing upon this little island....for the first time in more than three months.

And for the umpteenth time I thought about the many times I have woken up simply to watch this spectacle. And of course wonder how I could portray at least once of those 'serpents of fire' making their way though the clouds. At least once. But alas, luck, or perseverance, was never on my side.

The next morning on the official Times site, I caught a glimpse of the photo below. And I could only gaze in wonder at the splendor of it all. The winding road caught in a fusion of orange lights, the distant buildings twinkling merrily in the background, with a great big tongue of lightning lapping up the air, bathing the immediate atmosphere with its binding whiteness.

(click thumbnail to view image in full)

Photographer Malcolm Sammut has been kind enough to share this beautiful rendering of the power of nature free of charge to all those who have asked him for the photo. For that we thank him and offer our most sincere appreciation for an art that is asking for even more ingenuity due to the increase in technology. But apart from framing and a name, this picture in untouched. Pure timing and skill.

I can only say ... touche'.

Bah...ill

It is NOT turning out to be a good week after all. About the only thing that can be said in its' favour is the fact that I won't be at work. But it will certainly not be enjoyable....au contraire.

The fact is that I have a rather harsh throat infection, meandering up to my ears. And it isn't pleasant at all. Strangely enough I didn't have anything yesterday, sure, I sneezed a couple of times, but not what you might make you think something's coming up.

But this night was a torment. After returning home from band practice, I felt a bit out of sorts, but put it away to tiredness, since the medication bloody well kills me. I did not close an eye for more than ten minutes, and stayed awake watching the lightning show.

And now my worst fear. An infection. Something as innocuous as this can really endanger my health. I can only hope that my antibodies have started working a bit now. It has been four months now since the 'deadly yellow' pills have been stopped, so things should be ok.

But a little insurance never hurt anyone, so a quick call to hospital made sure that the medics knew of my condition. As always, I have full faith in my helpers!

I'm going to bed, maybe get some shut-eye.