My passport arrived by courier this morning!!

How to insult your grandfather: If he shows you his passport photo and asks, "Do you think it's a good photo?" say, "Yes."

Barry (surname Clubb, I think, or possibly Chubb) and Marguerite are organising some sort of songwriters' school in Christchurch for one weekend in August. They were among those who had lunch at Oamaru's Criterion Hotel on Monday, and they both seem quite keen that I should come up. I'm not convinced that my songwriting would benefit from such a school. I think I already know, or can extrapolate from what I do know, all the good advice on the topic that's going.
On the other hand, it's in August—two and a bit months after Whitestone, and two and a bit months before Cardrona—and would be a welcome break in the bleak four-and-a-half-month stretch that this time of the year normally is.
And I'd quite like to get to know Barry better.
[Don't answer yet—I have to go and cook tea]

Whitestone was great. Excellent concerts from Anna Heinz, Native (versatile Dunedin acoustic band with Hamish Mepham doing vocal leads, and featuring some weird and definitely wonderful instrumentation) and Little Green Men (Brad and Chrissie). I sang my new song—first in the Friday night session (with Sue Harkness sitting right in front of me) and then in the Saturday afternoon invitation concert, where I got a gratifyingly enthusiastic call for an encore (I couldn't oblige because of time pressure). Paddy and I did They're coming to take me away, ha! ha! in the Sunday night concert, accompanied by young Chris the fiddler on bongo (played at heart-beat rhythm) and with Paddy doing tambourine on the on-beat.
.
( New song ).

Personal down-side for me was that I didn't get round to requesting a cabin next to a bathroom in the days leading up to the festival, and by Friday I figured that it probably wouldn't matter anyway, since most of the cabins were in blocks with bathrooms in them, so it would be a matter or only a half-dozen extra steps. The theory was sound, but Murphy never sleeps, and didn't see why I should either. I got the cabin without a bathroom attached, which meant a mad sprint (after disentangling my self from my sleeping-bag liner, pulling on trousers and unco-operative boots and wrapping a blanket round myself) several times a night. On the last night I went to bed at 4 am, and had to get up at 5, 6 and 7, before getting up for the day shortly before 9. All my trials, Lord, soon be over (till the next time).

Kept falling asleep during Dr Who on Monday night (dammit!)

Sorry jexia, I didn't read your comment on my previous blog before I left.
 

33 radiotherapy sessions down, 4 to go. Checkups later in June, heart checkups in July, then I'm ready to face the next health crisis, whatever it may be.

It is a logical impossibility to prove to an illogical man that he is illogical.

The following was on a friend's blog, and is far too good to be kept secret

The geek way to tire your child out:

Let him type a message in Skype to Daddy. Make him run to Daddy's laptop to make sure it got there. Repeat ad infinitum.

My first ever passport photos, and I lost them within ten minutes of getting them done. Mind you, this may not be a totally bad thing. A neatly trimmed beard is probably a better thing to present to officials in Sydney than the Death-to-America mugshots that went missing.

Can I please ask my Kiwi friends to read this article from the Otago Daily Times, and write to Tony Ryall, the Minister of Health, using the email form on his Parliamentary web page. It would be good if it could be spread around. I suggest everyone putting a time limit on it in their communications, as these things have a way of circulating for years after the original issue has ceased to be one. I suggest May 4. If a resolution is announced, we should circulate everyone again.

I have sent the following email to Mr Ryall—

17 Chambers St
North East Valley
Dunedin

Phone numbers:
03 473 8200
021 142 5763

This morning’s Otago Daily Times carries the story of Mr Joe Noon who is being denied funding to be prescribed Infliximab, a drug which has the potential to relieve his chronic extreme pain and allow him to live a normal life. The story is online at http://www.odt.co.nz/news/dunedin/52728/no-access-drug-crohn039s-disease-sufferer
.
The following is the text of a letter I have sent to the ODT editor—

"In 1973 I had Crohn’s disease. It was the most extreme pain I have ever experienced. Very luckily I got it in the appendix, and it was quickly removed. If Joe Noon (ODT 24/4/2009) is suffering long term what I suffered for only two or three hours, then whoever is making the decision denying him funding should be prosecuted for torture. If this decision really can't be made at regional Health Board level, it should go straight to the Health Minister, and funding granted at once."

While the sentiment expressed here is extreme, it is not exaggerated. I am asking you, sir, please make a decision quickly on Mr Noon’s case, and move things so that he can have funding for this pain relief as soon as possible—within hours if at all possible, rather than days or even longer.

I do not know Mr Noon personally. I did recognise him by his dress as a patient I have seen in the lobby of the hospital a day or two ago when I was there for treatment.

Yours truly,
Neil Copeland

I'd love to be a ventriloquist—I'd go to a lot of funerals.
—quote from ventriloquist's dummy on tonight's Late Show

Tree shrews are not true shrews.

Not the kick-off of radiotherapy after all. Just a consultation. Only, the hospital's new i-soft computer system was down, and after telling me how embarrassing it is to be put in the position of asking a patient, "What are you here for?" Dr Costello asked me what I was there for. It didn't even occur to me to give him the real answer, which was, "Because I have an appointment to see you." We muddled through the time somehow, and I will presumably be notified soon when treatment begins.

Yesterday, Wednesday: Isaac's sixth birthday. Also the day of my CT scan. I now have an appointment for next Monday with Shaun Costello, the radiologist, and I think this will be the kick-off of my radiotherapy. According to the lady in charge of the scan, it should be pretty much life as normal—folk festivals included.

Little highlights from the past week:

Saturday, at the Waihi Bush Folk Festival, An old guy comes up to me and says, "Were you at the Tui Festival? Are you going to sing? I really like Flanders and Swann." I put my name down on the board for the blackboard concert.

While I'm standing by, waiting for my turn on stage, Martin Curtis comes up to me and says, "Are you on next?" I tell him I'm either the one after next or the one after that. He says, "I'll go and get Kay." My hopes of a Cardrona concert some day are rising.

Sunday night at Folk Club at St Lees Restaurant, world class harmonica player Brendan Power has me up playing blues guitar for him. Brendan does this sort of thing.

He also gets Erin, of Tui Award winning Del Girl, to get up and do a couple of songs, accompanied by him. I had never heard her sing solo before. She is good.

Monday and Tuesday. Baby-sitting my 10-month-old granddaughter Maia.  Three times she fell asleep on me—an hour and a half on Monday, two shorter sleeps of 30 and 40 minutes on Tuesday.  On waking, she pushes herself up off me, looks puzzled for a few seconds, and then gives me a huge smile.

Tonight. Hearing that Black Books is starting on Prime TV on Monday nights.

The Day the Music Died.

1: Putting words to Lara's Theme
2: Putting music to the Bricklayer's Letter.

Three weeks ago I finally created a much-needed Wikipedia article on Ngoi Pēwhairangi. I have watched its progress down through the new articles list, and checked its history from time to time. No-one else has edited it so far. By the time we left for Tui on Dec 29, it still wasn't registering on Google. We arrived back yesterday, and I find it is now showing up. I've even found it reduplicated in three places—on a military history website (where the deletion of red links leaves it a little disjointed), on a Pakistani music website, and even, rather mysteriously, in an encyclopedia of plants. The original page will probably stay in place until it's a month old, when it reaches the bottom of the new pages list, at which time it will be spotted by those patrolling the new articles. Pages that make it through the first day are generally pretty sure to stay on the list for a month. Much of the patrolling happens at the bottom of the list, as there is far less chance of spotting trash once a page disappears from the list.

Whatever you do, don't party with these people.