Hi Harold! Hi Tom! Let's Party! - Pete Diary...

[O'Neal, Kevin W.]

For Posterity sake....

    24 January 2007 
Hi Harold! Hi Tom! Let's Party! 

 Back to Diary Dates    
  I had a meeting yesterday with Roger Daltrey and our managers to try
to describe a plan for the two years ahead. We all feel that 2009 - as
the fortieth anniversary of Tommy - will be one to celebrate; we may not
be around for the fiftieth. This coming year already looks chock full,
at least until the summer. We will soon announce European shows that
begin in May, and will end in the Festival season in July. It looks
almost certain we will visit Japan, Australia and Hawaii in winter 2007.
We also discussed the launch of a dedicated new Who website planned
later this year. There is no schedule set for a new album, but I will
probably drift into it using the same process as last time and start
work at home.

I performed No Face, No Name, No Number at the Jim Capaldi Tribute at
the Roundhouse last Sunday, and very much enjoyed the evening. I played
just this one song on my own, partly because I hadn't had time to
rehearse - I had two medicals and a recording session with Martha
Wainwright that fell on the three days the other musicians were
rehearsing. (By the way, I am supremely fit. I weigh a lot. Don't get in
my f**king way.) My attendance then was social. Good to catch up with
Gary Moore, Joe Walsh, Steve Winwood, Simon Kirk, Bill Wyman, John Lord,
Yusef Islam and the presenter Bob Harris. I'm seeing Ray Cooper tonight
at Jerry Hall's. Monday was allegedly the most miserable day of the
year. There was no sign of its approach on Sunday evening in Camden
Town.

Yesterday Roger and I received an award from the South Bank Show, an
arts programme in the UK, for outstanding achievement. We share this
with the likes of Harold Pinter and Tom Stoppard. I won't generally name
drop, as I knew almost everyone gathered there by sight, and many as
friends. I sat next to the artists Gilbert and George who I had never
met, and that was a treat. We three agreed we looked like gathered
bankers or vicars rather than the groundbreaking radicals we were and
still are. Amy Winehouse was at the table too, her new CD has broken a
million sales in the UK, and I think I saw her mainly drinking water!
Russell Brand was funny, especially about his own awards of the past -
one which was for shagger-of-the-year. He said he'd been pleased to get
such an award, because often, while shagging, he'd hoped it might all
lead to something tangible and meaningful.

The French something-or-other for the Arts has suggested that soon all
downloaded music will be free. He was asked how will musicians make a
living. He replied that they will perform live. Try telling that to
Robert Wyatt you French tw*t. Nevertheless, he's probably right. iTunes
are getting away with murder, and the French want to stop them. Oh! I
warned you all back in 1986 and no one listened. 

As for the porn industry (and I warned you about them too) - forget the
problems caused by High Definition, get on with developing the Virtual
Sex Glove. Handjobs over the internet. No Aids. Thus no need for drugs.
Most important, no need for women and priests with little knives
clamouring to cut off the ends of pricks to make them 'cleaner'. If the
spread of Aids is reduced by circumcision I have another suggestion that
might give us all a quieter life, cut them off completely. 

Some of my regular readers, like wassername Wooffington who is always
looking for good copy for free, will know that I believe my dogs talk to
me. I grew up with cats as well as dogs, but - although I'm not an
animal softy like my partner who models herself on Bridget Bardot in
many ways and is equally gorgeous - one of my dogs told me yesterday
that it was going to snow today. And it has, it looks beautiful and
serenely pastoral in the valley below. All the local mothers are
brazenly driving their 4 x 4 SUVs (apparently the direct cause of global
warming and all road deaths, almost as dangerous as mobile phone
chargers left plugged in overnight). I declare this Four by Four day.
Give these proud, brave women medals. They knew they were right. Snow
would come. They would be vindicated. Tomorrow, however, when the snows
melt in the extreme heat of late January, they pay the 4 x 4 tax, or
die. For I have heard Jarvis Cocker 'Will Kill Again'.

My dog knew all this was coming. 

And then there is the best subject for a song there has ever been. John
Francis, the Silent Walker, who gave up his car in 1972, and then gave
up speaking. A friend sent me a bunch of articles about him this
morning. I wonder John, have you thought about circumcision at all? Or
something more radical? What an absurd world we live in. A man who
should be canonized for his abstemiousness must lose the only part of
his body left that we might have awarded (like Russell Brand). If we
were all Silent Walkers the world would be a better place. John, go
forth and breed. But only if you're circumcised.

Of course, my chosen spiritual guide Meher Baba was silent for most of
his life. Todd Rundgren once suggested to me that I might follow the
great teacher's example. OK Todd. I will. Until the next time.
 


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