Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Glenn Miller

Friday 1st of November 2007

"Timetravel and timewindows"

I came across a Glen Miller recording in the library yesterday. It was a box set with two discs. It was called “The Lost Recordings.”

I thought that if I were to put together all the Glenn Miller recordings I’ve held in my hands through my life it would cover most of what is out there. Thus I found the title a bit pretentious. I picked it up and started reading the list of content. It was mostly stuff I had seen before and assumed that it wasn’t a lot of alternate takes available neither. But I borrowed it with me home to check it out.

I was running errands around the city today and had not eaten enough. Something that had given me a slight headache and I needed some nice soft music with the food.

Dude, sorry the interruption, but someone is sending up fireworks again! It seems to be fireworks in the sky here every day now. I wonder were they bought it! I’d love to get some! Maybe I could hold a party at the rooftop gardens and make a memorable ending…

Anyway. I read in the cover that the executive producer had come across some never before released recordings and that they were of high quality. I put in the first disc and started to flip through the booklet.

The first couple of songs were just old classics and well known recordings, I got restless and took the disk out. Then I flipped the page in the booklet and my heart almost stopped. I had never seen the orchestra and their bandleader like this before! So close up, in action, so real! Not the usual arranged pictures but huge bandscores on his note stand, Miller conducting, and a young Dinah Shore singing by his side. This was with the military band so Major Miller and the band were all in full uniform. The room was packed!

I put disc two in the player and flipped another page. One more time I held my breath. A huge string section at the Major’s right side! Strings! Maybe there’s more to this disc than I assumed. And yes, it was.

The lost recordings indeed. Silkysmooth sound. High quality recordings like the producer wrote. I have often thought of how wonderful it would be if we had him around longer and could get better recordings, after the tape recorder really started shaping up the sound after the war. But this is good! Clear and crisp! Better than any recording I have heard before. And two more things:

#1 I have never heard strings used this extensively in any Miller recordings before.
#2 I have never heard any Miller arrangements that to this extent uses orchestral dynamics. Orchestral is really the word! This is more orchestral than Big Band at times.

It is suddenly so near!
And here’s a thing to all of you youngsters that have said that I’ve been listening to “grandparent-music” for the last 15 years:
Most of those grandparents are gone now, though more of them were around 15 years ago. What am I listening to then? –Dead men’s music? –Corpse-Swing? There is a page in the booklet with a young horn section. Some of them may be the age I’m now. One of the front guys could well have been Justin Timberlake’s buddy. –If he had come out of the picture and been the same age today as he was then.
This is music produced by young people, for young people! If we loose that perspective we loose what binds us to history and the sounds in my living room becomes antiquated curios to relate to either in a dry intellectual manner or by laughing of it as irrelevant and maybe funny. Do you think it is?
Then try this test:
Would you discard Wolfgang Mozart for being out of date, irrelevant, non-influential and maybe something to laugh of in the present age?

If yes, read no further!

I sat on the kitchen bench reading a book but this wonderful music caught my full attention from time to time. It was like someone had opened a window. I remember how it was like walking around in the huge hall under the music school I went to in my early teens. If someone had opened a window in their practice room you could hear a nice blend of jazz saxophone solos, classical sopranos and piano sonatas down in the hall. It would put a smile on my face. It would reveal music, activity, passion, dreams and beauty. And I was lucky to get a short glimpse into it, and even be a part of it. So I was sitting in the kitchen and someone opened a window in Autumn 1944 and I was lucky that it flowed into my apartment. The book I was reading encouraged to seek the sages, the wise old men. –In old writings or in person, and humorously, but seriously it was written: “Hang out with the wise, living or dead!” I thought “Haha,” I’m doing it right now! The dead and wise in music are here already.

I think the recordings were meant for radio broadcasting and Miller and a lady is narrating it for us. For some reason it is partly in German so it seems a bit like an attempt of breaking through the propaganda-barrier and radio control of Vermacht.
Then it came. I know his straight forwardness in his opposing Hitler in Music, and I love this comment that came:
“Love of freedom and love of care free life are two vital American characteristics. And I hope the time will soon be here when we’ll completely wipe out all nazi gangsters, so that not only the people of Europe, but also the Germans may enjoy home, life and happiness. The allies will see to that.”
I was sitting on the kitchen bench and had to put down my book. I clapped my hands and shouted “Yeah!” “Preach it brother!” He didn’t address me in 2007, he did in ’44, and where his voice came from the war was still not over. You simply can’t respond today. It was really exciting! The voice of a man long gone, suddenly highly alive, with a voice revealing a steadfast hope in a free Europe. –Soon!

He never got to see it him self. We lost him and his plane over the British Canal before the war was over. It was such an unnecessary death. It has grieved me many a time. But then again he stays forever young in our memories. Kinda’ like the James Dean of Big Band Jazz. And though he sadly never got to see the end of the madness he was fighting, he never got to see the decline of Swing Jazz neither. It keeps him even younger in our minds.

I held my hand over his picture and prayed thanks for all that he has meant to music and to us who has been blessed by the sound of his thoughts that came to action. –Came to sound through his orchestras.

The record came to and end and after a few words in German he concludes with an “Auf vider sehn!” I was waiting for the last tune but it never came and I understood that his words were the final track. I laughed! “Haha, you bastard!” Slipping through my fingers once again! We never found your plane or learned how it disappeared. You just vanished! I can see the blink in your eye as you tell me “till next time!” before you’re gone yet one more time. Someone closed the window in 1944 and my living room turned silent. I’m back, and Major Miller is gone once more.

Auf vider sehn indeed! At our first encounter mom was wheeling me around in a pram in a Norwegian shopping centre. It was about the same time as I ran into a guy called Sinatra. I’m looking forward to our next meeting, but where you’ll show up then I have no idea!

In fond memory and deep appreciation of
Glenn Miller 1904-1944

Ray Mears

Monday 29th of October 2007

Today I met one of my heroes.
Ray Mears was in town holding a lecture. The gorgeous old and venerable Leeds Grand Theatre was packed till the last seat.

Today we travel out into the “wild” with tools of the city. Titanium stoves, nylon tents and Gore-Tex. It’s adding an extra layer on top of the user interface between us and the nature we travel in. Ray Mears is one of, if not the most outstanding expert in the world on removing that layer and bringing us close to the nature around us, on nature’s own premises. May I add, on God’s premises, who made the laws of physics onto where we apply our knowledge. Ray Mears know how to live with nature, not just in nature to a level few ever reaches.

I know and have known several outstanding mountaineers through my life. Some can take your breath away with how fast they can walk on skis (literally if you try to follow them), how fast and under how appalling circumstances they can get a fire going and how well they can judge snow conditions for camp spotting and for foreseeing potential avalanches. But what is probably most notable with Mr. Mears is his humbleness. Not only for nature, but for the people living in it. And that he sees his work as important preservation of skills and culture. With our high tech world we have gained a lot, but how many can make a fire without matches or melt ice to drinkable water without a cooking pot in the arctic ice today? As we eat our way through rainforests, cattle gets gene manipulated and all food comes from the shop there are many essential skills, but more so also detailed knowledge about God’s creation that goes lost. And as much as our grandchildren may enjoy sitting under a tree as I have done, or Newton, or someone further back, they may know less about it. Not in terms of chemistry, botanics or Newton’s physics but in knowledge about the simple use and benefit of it, right where it is found. I know at least two different methods of finding South by looking at trees I can find in the woods. They are pretty inaccurate though, but your GPS may not be there when you need it one day.

I was probably 13 or 14 and I saw “The escape through Kalahari.” (Sorry, I’m not sure if it’s the English original title.) It made a huge impact on me. It was one of those moments when I knew that trips and exploration in the future would be more and more my own. Up until then it had mainly been hikes in the woods with my parents. I wrote a whole lot of stuff in my “diary” (or what ever you might call it) afterwards. Without going into detail it was about my determination to explore in the future. But just as much about my commitment to it. It was my first encounter with the African X/N language and I walked around making clicking sounds with my tongue for months afterwards. I remember a guy called Xabo.

Ray Mears showed pictures from some of his trips to Africa tonight and mentioned one of his friends name. It is not common to hear people in the West pronounce that click with the tongue, but guess what his friends name started with?

A circle was drawn, old tracks were crossed. Although I haven’t been much in the outdoors the last two years, it has brought me to new places and into new things that will bring me even further. The writing in that old diary must have been glowing tonight. I’ll find it again some day.

Maybe it’s time to renew those words… (Big smile! -can you hear the sound of my laughter disappearing between the trees at night? :)

New Hotel Rooms

Leeds 11th of October 2007

I find that new hotel rooms contain new music. I woke up in Korea half past three at night a couple of months ago with a song in my head. Out with the hotel’s letter paper and after it was written down, record it on the phone. And then another one. One hour's work and then I fell asleep again.

It was a bit too much carrying the guitar at times. I had enough things with me moving from Singapore. Although I shouldn’t complain since it was checked in. But the real advantage didn’t come late. I bumped into the hotel room in Leeds (my home for ten days), and within a day new tunes started popping up. Thank God for versatile laptops. I could record all I needed sitting in my bed, and with the guitar case as a drum almost make a full production after effects and mixing.

God, send me around the world to pick up all the new music!

Actually it boils down to new places. And more than that it’s about the place you left. It’s like an elastic band. You travel away from your destination and some things keeps pulling on your feelings and memory. People, places and events.


Leeds 11th of October 2007

It’s dirtier than Singapore here. It’s not as shiny. There are no domestic workers working their ass off to keep the sidewalks or streets clean and tidy. No government that plants trees in between the driving lanes on the roads.

But walking fast to the point where you feel like flying. Rounding the first corner on the street in the morning. Speeding up like Sherlock Holmes himself. Talking long steps, leaning forward and finding the speed. I must have walked several tenths of kilometres since I came here. Cross-walking the city for areas with properties for rent – Hotel – College – Internet Café – Bus Station – Real-estate Agent – Food – Church – Country Side…
Slow lifts, running stairs – don’t walk!
Cool dry air. I love the morning sun and the slight sea breezes on the East Coast of Singapore. But running after the bus in the morning, getting sweat, buttoning your shirt up to the threshold of decency, leaning back, freezing to ice on SMART’s new super busses and then diving into the wet and warm again ten minutes later…

I used to run after my father when we were walking in the city when I was a kid. He is even taller than I am now and when he walked in normal speed (for him) it was some workout keeping up! Sometimes he would grab my hand and I would hang like a scarf in the wind behind him. Or that’s how it felt at least.

Anyway, I have missed walking fast. Like, in concrete thoughts that is. Sometimes I would run up staircases in Singapore and get short of breath, and I would go: “oh no! what’s happening to me?” Today I moved in on the 5th floor (6th level) of a downtown building. The lift was slow, I ran up and I hardly got higher pulse at all.

When I left the hotel I carried 40-50 kg. 25-30 on my back, 10-15 in a backpack on my stomach and 10 in my hands, that is golfclubs and a guitar. It (physically) opens my eyes, straightens me up, makes me more curious about what’s around the bend. It almost feels like I’m off to the mountains again to set up a base camp and lead a group of trekkers. But no, I was just going to my apartment.

A yellow leaf fell inches from my nose yesterday and caught my attention only when it was about to pass my eyes. Beauty.
But the walking too (beauty) –probably the most! Understand it if you can.

Adam's Eva

13th of October 2007

Harald is understanding the concept of marriage and Adam's Eva on a whole new level. Furnishing a totally empty apartment all alone is bloody ridiculous!

Leeds - Ireland - Norway - Singapore - Kuala Lumpur - Israel - Greece - Rome, and back again.

January 28th 2008

I came from a prayer meeting in Church and had just rejected a kind offer of a lift in to town. As I got closer to the city centre I saw an elderly chap trying to fix something under his car at the other side of the road. I walked across and asked if everything was all right and if he needed any help. He had had a flat on one tyre, had changed the wheel, and now he couldn't get the tray that held the spare wheel under the car back into place. I later learned that he had been there for more than two hours! I took a look under the car and tried to find the reason why the tray wouldn't get attached to its hook.

As I was lying under the car he asked me if I came from Ireland, cause I somehow seemed Irish. I got a good laughter and so did he after I told him I was from Norway. But I had to give him some credit for the guess because of the touch of red in my hair. He went on to ask me about my studies and how long I had been in the country. When he heard that I had recently left Singapore after two years his face lit up. He had known someone from Singapore once, and a couple from Kuala Lumpur. And when he lived abroad Chinese martial arts teachers were in demand. But this was all back in the days he lived in Israel... "Israel!?" Now it was my turn to get curious. What? When? "Were you with the British army?" "No, I was installing telephone systems." But he was troubled with hay fever and had to move in to one of the cities. "Israel is nice. And, many of the other countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea too. Especially Greece. Greece is nice. Have you been there?" I had to admit I hadn't, but added that my sister lived in Rome for a while. The thought of Rome seemed to get him excited and I was highly recommended to go to the Mediterranean Sea.

The tray was getting into place and as I was tightening the bolt that held it. -we came back to Leeds. It was a tricky operation and it was a system that should forever discourage you from buying this as a "wife's car." Not because she couldn't handle it, but because hopefully you'd love her too much to let her go through that kind of job.

As I walked towards the city he drove past me and we waved each other farewell. My legs felt light and I had a big smile. But no wonder, we had just traveled around the world.

"Circle completed"

London, the night going into March 14th 2008

If life moves along a line that draws circles, and you are to avoid repeating your self it means you'll have a pattern of different circles; big and small and different characters like color, line-thickness etc.

I was 14 years old when I started listening to Lenny Kravitz. I have been listening for 14 years. Tonight in a club in Cambdon in London I got to see him live for the first time. One circle completing. My line with him will be drawn till I die but I'm just about to head into a new circle.

If you think I'm talking new age nonsense go hide! This is just philosophy.

Sunday Morning

Autumn 2007

How on earth did I manage to sleep for almost 12 hours?

- Maybe I’m growing (I gained two cm length after I was 20)
- But it shouldn’t be any new teeth in my mouth growing out now…?

There was a storm outside last night. I was half awake several times. Judging from the howling from the front door it sounded like a mad snowstorm in the mountains. I have always liked the sound that the wind makes around the corners of the house when strong weather sets in. Especially when I’m up in the mountains. I guess it gives me some feeling that I am really far off and more exposed to what nature can throw at me.

But dude! –I live in a brand new apartment block in central Leeds! There is no outback or wildlife around.
Wildlife… well, there’s a nightclub around the corner, but except from that, nothing.

I guess it’s not entirely tight between the door and the doorframe. I was planning to get up last night to fill it up with paper or something. But each time I just fell asleep. Then it started all over again! –and I thought: “Why is there still sound! Didn’t I just get up and fill in that crack!?” But, no! That was done in my dreams.
When I inspected the door this morning I found out that it would have been of no use anyway. What I need is probably some rubber tape to tighten it up.
Or a new door!

When I came out in the living room, everything outside the window was wet. Tales of the weather.


There’s this old Church right behind my house. Every Sunday morning there is someone up in the tower that plays arpeggios on the bells like a mad man! But it is actually quite nice lying in bed, listening to the same sound that would have been heard every Sunday morning for the last 2-300 years from that same place. It somehow creates a relevant link between me and the lives of people long gone. As an industrial centre for ages I can hear the days of the industrial revolution echoing in the background. (Revolution!? What a silly and misplaced word when you compare it to the other revolutions in France and Russia.) The sound would have been the same back then. In effect that is the days of economical growth and Church in society hand in hand. Days that passed with the growing influence of socialism. But days not dead, returning many a place. Returning here in Leeds. A Church not about the cause of theology, but about the cause of Christ.

I’m checking out a new Church in Bradford today (Abundant Life Church) together with a Chinese/Malaysian/English friend. How cool is that? I was recommended this Church by an Indonesian Pastor and friend while I was still living in Singapore.


My pancakes are done. Time for breakfast.


Autumn 2007

I tried to call home to Norway. No one picked up the phone. I had to talk to mom, but unless my parents are working they are almost always together so I called dad.
Answering machine.
Then two seconds… and he called back. I said “hallo” and the line broke. He called again and I said “hi.”
Dad: “We’re at Intersport Gigant!” (My old workplace before I went to Singapore) “Do you want a new Gore-Tex jacket?”
(You’ve got to be kidding…!)
Dad: “I’m holding a nice orange and grey Berghaus jacket in my hand, do you want it?”
I started to prepare a speech in my head. “Dad, that’s really nice, but if I can suggest a Christmas gift I would really like to ask for a field recorder that I can sample sounds and instruments with for my studies and work. And if it’s too expensive, then maybe some money to put into the project…”
Dad: “We bought one each. –And we bought one for sis.”
No kidding! What’s up? This isn’t about Christmas!
Me: “But I have my brand new Norrøna Gore-Tex that I got for my birthday last year before I went to Mount Kinabalu in Malaysia.”
Dad: “Yeah, but they have a sale and it’s only 1/3 of the normal price!”
Knowing how fast mountain equipment wears down when climbing, trekking, skiing and used for everyday life I could already see my nice new jacket starting to get messed up if I go back to Norway, and managed to come with a: “Yeeeah, that would be fine…”
Then we were on to finding the right size. And after funny conversations and physical testing of the jacket by my old colleagues we ended up with the right size.
Dad: “Ok, that was all actually.” And he was about to hang up.
Me: “Eeeeeh! Hey wait! Mom… can I speak with mom before you go?”
(That was why I called in the first place!!)
Dad: “Yeah, sure!”

Mom: “Hello!”
Me: “Hello Mom! I just wanted to ask…
I bought some beef meat at the butcher store a couple of days ago. It’s only been lying in the fridge. I can still use it right? It was fresh when I bought it.”
Mom: “Yes, off course. A couple of days in the fridge is no problem.”
Me: “Ok, thanks.”
She wished me a good meal and we said goodbye.
–And now I a new Gore-Tex jacket.

A little less time please...

13th of October 2007

I recently discovered that many of my lyrics were about time. Not just any time, but future. (No, you won’t have noticed, I’m not showing you close to half of what I write.)

I wasn’t too happy about this. If future is more important than present you might end up loosing the present in the future you dream of. Oh, knock it off if you think it sounds philosophical! It’s not. It’s quite down to earth and quite simple “skiers philosophy,” and that’s seldom too deep. Except for the snow. That’s hopefully deep!

I encourage people to dream, but maybe I should give up some of my own dreaming? Some of you go “yeah, you should!” We’re not talking about the same things and I wish you luck on your planet and don’t come here to visit! I said “some,” that indicates selection. Like picking weeds so the flowers can grow bigger.

I have felt several times over the recent years (past) that I’ve been stretched. I’ve seen new places and had to go on doing inevitable things when I’ve been too tired. I’ve gone places (not geographically) where I have not accepted myself to go before. I’ve seen new places (geographically). Many new places. You see, I think that brings back/ re-ignites (or whatever) the love for those old places where you return. Maybe you need more time (time), but if there was a love there it just won’t go anyway.

I drove an hour off course on one of the national highways up North the summer before this. I stressed like a mad! I needed to get to a certified Saab workshop before the weekend because it sounded like the infantry were training under my dad’s new and beautiful car and the turbo was obviously not happy. Later it turned out to be just a broken exhaust clamp –no big deal! Anyway, I never got to the workshop in time and every time I pushed the accelerator I was going to war. Or at least that’s what any bypassers must have thought.

I had never been this far North before. The mountains here were beautiful and I’m not used to such colossal structures with as relaxed shapes and slack slopes on the edge of the coast. It was like the mountains had more time here (Yeah!). No sudden changes, no sharp edges but relaxed lines interrupted by green valleys and occasional farms. I discovered I was off course and I wasn’t happy with it at all. Though I tried to see the bright side, had I not taken a wrong turn I would never have been there. More and more that relaxed me. I stopped to take a cigar by a rocky shore. The wind came in from the sea and everything around me just invited to… “adventure” you said? –or just beauty. A heavy backpack can be better than a boring chair in a city.
As I was driving I started getting this line in my head. “I am showing you the country.”

I thought of the old Kings and how they sailed out in their youth and returned stronger and wiser. They had been stretched too. –And seen the country they were about to serve when they them selves would assume the title as King.

This summer I did a two days drive in one day from up North and down to Trondheim. I remember the first time I drove for a whole hour. It was in driving school and I had a pounding headache afterwards and ice cream never tasted that good! This time I spent 17 ½ hours, not without breaks naturally, but it’s a bit longer anyway. –and no headache this time. I wonder how mom and dad coped with that same trip in two days when sis and me were so small that an hours drive was like an eternity. I’m being stretched; and that future I’m writing about in cloudy words (just as cloudy as my thoughts) is inevitably being prepared, even without my planning! You sit in the car (not a physical one) and you know where it’s going but you didn’t order the direction and you have no control over the wheel. It sounds scary doesn’t it? Just like being picked up by the mafia by force. You know they’re leading you to that abandoned factory where there’s no one around for miles and miles. You’re on the ride, but you have no control over the wheel. But it’s not like that. If it was I wouldn’t be shown the country (education), have to carry 40 kgs of gear around on Heathrow to take the tube to King’s Cross to take a train to Leeds to find a hotel in a city where I have never been before after five airports and hours I never counted and being so tired that you wonder if it is enough left before the limit on your Master Card to take a cab from London to Leeds and pay the mortgage for the rest of your life, and still getting there being happy (training), or shopping furniture on a Saturday at IKEA all alone to a brand new apartment that needs everything (patience), or walking a new city across in all directions to get the picture of where everything is (overview). It’s stretching. And although home is just a phone call away, there is no one there to help me. Ok, I’m getting help with lots of things over the phone, but I’m the only one that really keeps track of my days, lifting my furniture, washing my dishes, administrating my life. I used to hide my car as best as I could when I went off sometimes, so even if there was a chopper searching for me they’d have to work hard to find me. It’s kinda’ like that, though I live in a city. I’m being trained. And shown things. It’s good, and I’m not off to some dirty old factory. I’m off to new lands, brighter light and more wind in my hair.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Backwards Land

“Where can I find School of Sound Recording?”
“I have no idea” (Then why are you a Bus-driver? The place is supposed to be a medium size central school).
“Go and ask those taxi-divers, they will know.”
“Ok… thank you! (?)”

“Huh? No I have no idea where that is…”
“You don’t have any clue?”
“No, sorry!”
“Where can I find out then?”
“There’s a tourist information just down the street on the left hand side.”
“Left hand side, just down the street?” (Echo information and await confirmation.)
“Yes, just down here.” (Pointing).
“So, it’s just a few blocks then?”
“Yeah, not more.”
“All right, thanks a lot!”

I walked down the street and looked everywhere where it was supposed to be but I had no luck. I started asking people I met in the area but they didn’t know about any tourist information.

I kept walking. And walking. And walking.

I needed an internet-café to try to find it on a map. But the same thing happened. I was directed to places, and when I arrived there would be a beautiful house, tree or statue of Queen Victoria or who ever. But no internet.

I was running out of time + I was hungry = I was getting angry!

I went into a mobile-phone/ laptop shop. Surely, they must know where the World Wide Web can be found! I was directed towards the public library by a young guy that worked in the shop. He asked what I was doing in Manchester. I told him I was going to an event with a company that makes music production gear.
“Are you a music producer or something then?”
He lit up. What do you answer to that? I’m studying it, but I’m producing stuff too, and so I told him.
“Ohhh, I would looove to do something like that!” he exclaimed.
I thought that he just could get started any time if he wanted on his own PC and see where it took him, and I tried to give an encouraging comment if this was really what he wanted to do. Suddenly I was becoming the hotshot in the party. The Norwegian dude in a blue sailors blazer with golden buttons and a linen scarf. If I had said I knew Beyoncé he’d buy it on the spot. I thought I should probably have brought some worn out jeans and a black t-shirt to take it down a bit…

It struck me how lucky I actually am. –To travel around the world in pursuit of dreams. I used to look up to people that did that, but I was feeling quite ordinary. Like any stressed out student who is just done with his last assignments.

The library was supposed to be a rounded building in the end of the next crossing road. There was no such thing. Hey, I used to be a trekking guide in the Norwegian mountains! –This isn’t high level navigation!

The answer was to call siss and her fiancé back in Norway, they went online for me and found it and I got the exact address. I was really running out of time and I boarded a taxi to take me there. We drove through the city and finally we came to the right street.

“Ok Sir, this is the street.”
The driver pulled up by the road.
“But this is not the right house-number is it?”
“No Sir, I have no idea where the building is but it should be around here.”
“So can we drive along the road then till we find it?” (That’s what I am paying you for!)
“No Sir, I don’t know where it is.”
“And neither do I!”
“I think it is just across that junction. You can walk up there and I’m sure you’ll find it.”
“Can we drive?” (I can’t believe I’m saying that in a cab!)
The answer was no and I was out on the street walking again.

In spite the ridiculous behaviour, he was the first one with an accurate road description (sheer luck?/ divine intervention?) The school was there after the junction, just by the road.

I was reminded of a Norwegian children’s song. It’s a song about The “Backwards Country” where everything is backwards! The rules in school, day and night, it’s like everything is reversed in a mirror cause right is left.

“…’cause in Backwards Land, there everything can happen.
There they are just as nutty and mad every man!”

I’m sure the Manchester people are probably not mad! –Bless them! It just seems like everything is backwards there! –like in a mirror…

But it’s a beautiful city though, although people will tell you both. If I ever get the chance I’d like to buy the old fire station! It’s from the 19th century and abandoned. There are trees growing in the walls. But it has a tall beautiful watchtower, a prime spot for Cigarsmoking and a funky element in any party. Just keep in mind while on watch that you’ll get the sun at your North at noon.