Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Drip


To quote the much missed Kirsty McColl '''I hate fucking folk music.''
You may recall that Kirsty was the daughter of Ewan McColl the purist old style folk singer.
So, one BIG advantage of Kev's long stay in Spain is that ....

... is not playing the guitar upstairs.


Early this morning I received the daily - RUOK/What's the weather like?/ Roger and out - phone call from Spain. I tried not to sound too elated by the news that it was raining in Catalunya.

Then I went to the bathroom and saw water dripping through my ceiling - obviously coming from Kev's empty flat upstairs.

Fortunately, I have Kev's key - so that I can care for 'mum's plant'. His mother died 12 years ago but the plant (weeping fig) is still going strong.

On entering Kev's bathroom I see that his ceiling is bubbling and the foor is - well - swimming.

Ian lives above Kev.

If Ian should decide to sell up, I suppose his flat would be described in 'Estate agent speak' as a penthouse. But he won't move because he'd have to relocate all his brownish straggly plants from the windowsill. I think he was smoking some of them last night because he took ages to answer the phone this morning.

He finally did and grunted that he'd get back to me.

He didn't.

I sat and seethed. I had plans for this morning - NO not Top Shop....there was River Island as well

So I decided to have my bath. It was like having a bath and a shower at the same time.

Eventually, Ian rang back. He told me (with numerous apologies) that he'd placed a bucket in a crucial position and that his brother was a plumber.

Shame about Kev's ceiling.

Now - How shall I break the news when I get the next call? Should I be sympathetic, angry or icy cold?
KAZ


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12 Comments:

Blogger Geoff said...

Play him Dylan's A Hard Rain's A Gonna Fall. He'll get the message, come home and sort it all out.

It's the only language these musos know.

1:29 pm  
Blogger Vicus Scurra said...

Don't tell him, let him find out about it on the internet, like we did.
That Joan Baez has let herself go a bit hasn't she?

1:38 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Geoff:
Trouble is he'll be *Bringing it all Back Home* including the guitar and possibly that woman in the red frock.

Vicus:
If I could text I could do a 'Prince Edward'
*Cum now B4 I rn awy wth Jq Cousteau*.
Told you I couldn't text.

Poor Joan - That's what comes of having God on your side.

4:38 pm  
Blogger Dave G said...

Or....you could sell up and move to dryer parts, Or....smoke some of upstairs plants that way you wouldnt care, Or....set fire to the gaff (that should dry it out) Or....bottle the stuff and sell it as Springkev the folk singers drink of choice.

5:48 pm  
Blogger Dave G said...

I'm not being very helpfull am I?

5:49 pm  
Blogger Murph said...

Please Miss! Geoff stole my comment I'd been saving up all day!

The whole thing sounds a bit like a vertical version of "My Wife Next Door" with Kev played by John Alderton and Kaz played by Hannah Gordon. This week, "Plumbing the Depths" where water brings the hapless pair together at B&Q with hilarious consequences!

6:32 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Dave:
Well thanks for the advice.
No2 sounds particularly interesting at present.
However, I'll probably stick with the Sauvignon - or possibly a double gin and Springkev with ice and lemon.

Murph:
Stop wingeing dog - you're as bad as Mr P.

At the moment I'd rather have 'Man about the House'.
And - no - I wouldn't be Yootha Joyce.

9:23 pm  
Blogger stitchwort said...

Willie Nelson??

10:29 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Spot on Stitch:
Much better looking than Kev and writes great songs like *Crazy*.

4:29 pm  
Blogger I, like the view said...

*sigh*

I used to be in love with Jacques C have a bit of a thing for Frenchmen. . .

sorry, not very useful advice really; not really advice at all actually!

anyone below you? could just drill a series of holes in floors/ceilings. . .

or find a water butt and save it for the next drought. . .

should have stayed with the thoughts of Frenchmen really, shouldn't I?

10:51 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Ah - French men - the sexy ones are all ugly. A big nose is essential and a Gallic shrug.

I fell in love with Jean-Louis Trintignant at a very early age.

6:36 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Kaz,
I like your blog. Very cool. Very Henry Greenish.
Speaking of Jacques, do you like the great Jacques Brel? He was a great Belgian singer/songwriter.
Wasn't Jean-Louis Trintignant in that great Louis Malle film Le Feu Follet?
Heard Dylan's Like a Rolling Stone the other day in the pub. Nice song.

8:29 pm  

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