Jonesing For Answers

I asked you back here to ask questions and I’d answer them. I did.

Ed asks: Whatever happened to The Leemer? I miss him. Do you hear from Wendy ever? I miss her. What about Bon? Any word?
Why have you stopped production on ‘The Cliff Jones Video Blog’? I really enjoyed that format. I realize it’s a lot of work, though. Maybe some of your office buddies could pitch in a bit?

They all went separate ways and we lost touch. It’s pathetic and tragic. I should make more effort to stay in touch with people.

I haven’t consciously stopped the video posts, but I guess I haven’t done one in a while. I might do one soon. I’m not sure they were any good. I wouldn’t ask the people at work to help out. In fact I’d rather be circumcised at Anfield while boiling my own head.

Anna asks: Do you have a happy place? You know, a location you go to mentally when you are not happy and it makes you happier, or calmer? Is it a real place you have been? Where is it?

It’s a good one, and this really made me think, because I don’t actually have a happy, calm place. I stew and brood and pity my lot without seeing that it’s better than lots of lots.

I try to imagine things aren’t so bad, but I’m not all that convincing. If I had such a place, it would have a stream in it. Glades and brooks, I think. I need to be more grateful.

Mr Angry asks: What your choice of last meal would be if you were on death row?

Nice. Vegetarian, obviously, although if I were about to die I would request that I eat my executioner. As abhorrent as that sounds, I’d walk free with a full belly.

Honestly, probably Italian food, and some kind of pastry/vegetable combo. There’s a restaurant in Dolce Aqua up in the top laces of Italy that I go to every year and they do these artichoke tartlets that are amazing. I’d start with that.

I like light, savoury food. Pumpkin and ricotta ravioli with a walnut vinaigrette dressing would be nice, with a red Barolo. Or I’d order a nice Baretta and in the confusion, when the waiter brought it, I’d grab it really quick because of course a Baretta is a gun. I’d shoot the jailer and say something caustic like: “At least I didn’t eat you.”

Desert, dessert. Hmmmm – let, me, see. I don’t like really sweet things, so heavy chocolate wouldn’t be top of my list, even though I like the dark stuff. I like cheesecake, tarte tatin, key lime pie, crème brule, but if it’s the best of anything then I’d go for tiramisu. Most tiramisus I could take or leave, but when they are good they are amazing.

I like good coffee, so I’d have a really good strong expresso and florentines with dark chocolate, or amaretti biscuits which were born to go with coffee. Or biscotti. Whatever you’ve got. Keep them coming, I’m going nowhere and put it on my tab.

Then I’d have a Jack Daniel’s and ginger ale and wait for the time at hand, because I’d have been so busy enjoying my tiramisu that they would have found another executioner.

Little did I know the waiter was a hangman serving tables to make ends meet while we waited for his big break to come along.

Turned out good for him, though.

Anna asks: When do you answer the questions? (She asked, with undue and completely disproportionate pressure)

I am answering them now. You really have to pay attention.

Sam asks a few things: What’s your favourite joke?

I don’t really laugh much at jokes or tell them, it’s more situations and words that I like. Or stories. George Carlin was great at this. He said things like: “Have you ever experienced vuja de? Not déjà vu, vuja de. It’s the feeling … that none of this has happened before. Just for a moment … - and then it’s gone.”

But jokes? Here are a couple of ones I like.

A polar bear walks into a bar and says “I’ll have a pint of lager….

…

And a packet of crisps.”

Bartender says: “Why the big paws?”

or

A guy is driving past a farm and he runs over a chicken. He gets out and sees it’s a cockrel. He feels awful so he goes up to the farmhouse with the dead bird.

He knocks on the door and a woman opens it.

“I’m terribly sorry about this. I’d like to replace your cockrel.”

The woman says: “Please yourself, the hens are out the back.”

or

What’s worse than finding a worm in your apple?

Genocide.

How many pairs of shoes do you have?

OK. A pair of Converse all-stars, sturdy walking boots, wellies, walking shoes old, walking shoes new, a pair of brown shoes, one pair of black shoes, one pair of reef sandals and the brown ones I’m wearing – nine.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Too late, although I am not a million miles away from what I wanted to be when I was a kid, because I was interested in writing, journalism and computers.

If you could have a pug and give it a name, what would it be?

That’s easy. Th – hang on.

Who’s your favourite Formula 1 driver?

I’m not a huge F1 fan, but I’ll say Lewis Hamilton, because the sport needs some fresh blood and this country needs a hero.

What was the last film you saw?

Wally.

What did you think of Maggie Gyllenhaal’s outfit at the Dark Knight premiere in London?

Holy lumbar! I didn’t like it. She has great eyes but she was way too thin. She looked like someone trying to smuggle a spine out in black drapes. What was her designer thinking? “A hint of sacrum… Voila, I am ze genius.”

Kathryn asks a few things: Do you hate peas like me?

No, but not all peas are like you. Tell me though, is it the texture? Because my cousin Dan hated the texture. Same with corn.

Are you scared of spiders? Don’t you think they are the teensiest (alright massively) bit evil?

No, I am not scared of them. I don’t like how they can move eight times their body size in a second, though.

How many times have you flown across the Atlantic?

I think by the time I was 10, it was something like 15 times. About 40, I’d guess. And that’s never been business. That’s just family and holidays.

Have you been to Australia?

No. I’d like to one day, although New Zealand appeals to me more. And Japan. If I were going that far I’d like to see Japan.

Where is your next holiday? (can you tell I work in travel…?)

New York City, baby. New York City.

Clair asks: What was the first job you ever wanted, and the first job you ever got?

First job I ever wanted was either a baseball player or saxophonist. First payslip job I got was in an off-licence, where I worked for about six months. I had had paid work before that, but nothing regular, including bands and chores. Technically my first job for a company was working on props for Under A Cherry Moon when Prince was making the film in Nice where I lived. True story.

Katy asks: When you listen to a particular track, do you ever imagine yourself playing one instrument and then suddenly realise that you’ve totally picked the wrong one? And is there any particular record that does this to you? Mine would be Freddie King’s “How Many More Years”, in which I generally start out imagining myself doing the guitar (obviously), but then suddenly realise half way through that the piano’s pretty good too.
Or this might just be me. Is this just me? I think this might just be me. Forget I asked. Favourite colour?

Yes. Yes I do. Although I don’t thing I’ve picked the wrong bit because I am probably more arrogant than you. Sometimes I’ll be on drums, but normally on the instrument that comes in and nails it. I’ll pick up on various bits for the riffs.

In Joan Armatrading’s Down to Zero, it’s the drums when the come in, then switch to the pedal steel for the end.

And when you miss the bit you were doing in your head, you rewind just to nail it again, don’t you? And go back and listen to the song again and be a different instrument for another go? It’s OK.

Blue.

g. Says: If you were a guitar, what guitar would you be? Oh, and what’s the ratio of readers to commenters on this blog? (This is my first. I’m sure I’m not alone.)

Wassup, g. Thanks for the comment and welcome. It’s a good question and I don’t really know. I can see the stats and tell how many visits I get and things like where they are from, but not if it’s a different person – what we in the business call “uniques”. As I can only see page impressions so I can’t tell how many readers there are. Are you assuming that every commenter also reads this blog?

Guitar-wise, I’d like to think I’d be an acoustic parlour guitar. Nothing fancy with pearl inlays of anything, but good workmanship, rosewood fretboard, ash or maple body and a perfect action. I wouldn’t be a Flying V in Candle Apple Red or anything like that.

Jonners asks: What first attracted you to the millionaire Paul Daniels, Cliff?

If he were on MTV cribs, he could open every door and effectively say: “And this is where the magic happens.”

Hello. Sam’s back, and he wants to know: What is your most often daydream? Mine is rally driving through the streets of Bangor. Have you got a long-held ambition that you would jack it all in to fulfil, or you’re waiting until the kids are off to university before you get cracking on?
Ooh, favourite biscuit?

I don’t daydream that much, I guess. I think a lot, but it’s conscious. Words in particular. Some people count things, some do puzzles, some imagine things, I have things with words – why they sound nice together, how they work, how it’s funny when they don’t. I dream about the usual stuff – love, money, sex, success, hopes, fears, what ifs, what ifn’ts.

Ooh, amaretti. Although if it’s brands straight out of the box then I’d say Pepperidge Farm Milanos. That’s probably because they are unattainable and I am bit of a snob like that. I also like a dark chocolate digestive with Earl Grey. I daydream about biscuits.

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Well that’s it. It was fun answering those. Thanks for all the questions and let’s be careful out there.

Have a great weekend.