I went into London bright and early yesterday spoke to a bunch of people, all concerning Timeless.
Then, last night, I spoke to another phone queue of folks last regarding my upcoming Australian tour.
By the time I turned out the lights I had been awake for nearly 22 hours and was totally sick of the sound of my own voice.
As far as the Hook compilation goes I've stopped worrying about exact chart numbers.
They change from hour to hour and day to day.
The way I figure it, if this catalogue, some of which is over forty years old, is in the upper regions of the damned charts at all, then how about that, folks???
Altho I've participated in a few Hook related releases in the past this is the first one that has employed my personal involvement as a selling point.
I figured it couldn't hurt.
Universal reckons it has really helped.
Good to know.
I'm sorry if anyone just happens on a radio interview I've done or am doing, like Billy Butler's show yesterday.
It's impossible to know when most of them will go to air.
All of yesterday's, other than the one with Mrs Butler's Eldest, were pre-recorded for a later time.
I didn't know Billy and I would be on the air 'live' until I was sitting in front of a microphone, looking over my daily list of interviews, by which time it was too late to let anyone know.
Always nice to speak to Billy.
We've known each other for so long that we just pick up where we left off.
I thought Laying Too Low Too Long was a good track to play at the end.
A rockin' little track with some killer guitar from Willard and a nice respite from all the romantic poignancy that gets most of the attention.
Always felt that would have made a great single from our Making Love And Music album.
Also, lyrically, one of the better things I wrote when I was a young man.
I might be doing a handful (or two) of Hook related phoners on Friday morning.
Next week Adrian and I will motor up to Manchester.
We'll stay in a hotel on Tuesday night and get up early for the BBC Breakfast programme.
I know the show is several hours long and I don't know precisely what time my segment is scheduled for.
It will be a chat and a song.
I can tell you right now that they requested it be Shel's ode to darling Sylvia, sweet old girl that she is.
I pity anyone who will be just waking up to my desperate pleas to the operator not to shut me down for the sake of forty lousy cents.
That has to be such a foreign scenario to young people hearing the song for the first time.
Huh? You used to actually need money to make phonecalls???
Yup, that's right kids!
And only a few years before that we used to have to carve our messages on cave walls in hope that someone might happen upon them someday.
I've actually enjoyed talking to everyone during the Timeless promotion (tho I do want to punch myself after awhile).
I relish an opportunity to communicate.
I don't mean only in instances of exploited celebrity, but even a friendly exchange with someone over a counter at a shop.
A shared laugh.
It really doesn't take much to restore one's faith in other people.
Having said that, in today's world there is so much tearing down of any positivity or faith you might have managed to hang on to that a brief encounter is but a mere drop of water on a blazing, out of control fire.
Even if you walk away from your over the counter encounter feeling a bit better it probably won't be long before something or someone reminds you why it's a good idea to store those tiny triumphs away in your mind, like a hamster stores kibble in his cheeks.
I'm going to go figure out what I feel like watching for an hour or so.
I'm spoiled for choice.
Maybe I'll read.
I don't read much fiction these days, but I did break down and get into Gone Girl.
You must have seen it, if not read it, yourself.
It was a huge best seller and front racked in every shop where they sell books.
I enjoyed it.
Definitely held my interest to the end.
I even decided to try another piece of fiction.
This one is titled Night Film, written by Marisha Pessl.
There's no sense trying to give you a synopsis.
It's a very different kind of book, with photographs, newspaper articles, computer page screen grabs and documents printed throughout that further the story.
It centers on a 'legendary', reclusive, possibly even deceased (how's that for reclusive?) director of a string of dark and disturbing cult films and a veteran journalist who attempts to look behind the legend with harrowing consequences.
But that doesn't really tell you anything.
It's pretty good so far.
More later...or later still. ~
P.S. Heartfelt condolences go out to Sir Mick Jagger.
How terribly tragic.
I'd give him a hug if I could. ~