​Jack Kerouac's ON THE ROAD is still recognised as one of the greatest novels of the 20th century. Over sixty years since its publication, and nearly seventy since its first draft was penned, it remains as powerful, gripping and influential as ever. As most fans of the book know, the main character of Sal Paradise was a front for Kerouac himself, and the book was largely autobiographical, based on his travels during the late forties and early fifties in search of a truth. The enigmatic character of Dean Moriarty was based on Neal Cassady, Kerouac's friend who was a major figure of the Beat Generation and the later psychedelic era alongside Ken Kesey in the Merry Pranksters.
   Here, Neal's daughter Jami recalls her father, her mother Carolyn, her childhood, and memories of Kerouac himself.
 
You've often said your mum kept everything under control so you had no idea about your dad and him being the inspiration for the book. Was it just a completely normal environment for you at home?
 
I love that term "completely normal environment at home". I did not know what was normal or not, as a child whatever goes on with the adults, you know no difference. Mom tried very hard to keep dad's true nature hidden from us. I think because her entire family was against Neal and she was brought up so strictly in the south in the 20's and 30's she really hoped deep down we kids would NOT follow in dad's footprints. (Sorry, ma.)
 
Do you remember finding out about On the Road and this amazing character of Dean Moriarty being your dad, and Camille being based on your mum? That must have been surreal.
 
I gotta say, I do not remember when I became aware of dad and Jack's book, On the Road. It came out in 1957, I was 7 years old. I think I was in my late teens when things started to be known to me.
 
What are your earliest memories of Jack Kerouac? Do you recall him round the house a lot? 
 
Ah, "Uncle Jack"... so sweet. Yes, he was around quite a bit. Mom said Jack said "Jami is his favorite", which I have cherished to this day. 
 
You have said that your dad really wanted to be that ideal suburban father. Do you think Jack Kerouac wanted that too, but couldn't keep it going? He had his daughter but could never be that kind of man or set himself free from his mother...
 
Yes, I agree with mom's theory that these two Catholic boys would forever feel guilt about "letting loose". Both men wanted women to be "Madonnas or whores", so when mom came around, they could imagine having the structured life she hoped for and presented.
 
What are some of your favourite memories of Jack? 
 
Memories of Jack as a child: Big daddy bear, quiet, calm, fun loving, laughed a lot. Walks with ice cream cones and picked flowers for bouquets for mom. He slept in the back yard of our house on Bancroft in Los Gatos (as mom and dad forgot to get a new home with a room for Jack). Us three kids waking up, racing to his slumber spot under a tree and jumping on him... "Wake up! Mom's cooking pancakes!" That sort of thing. Playing around with the tape recorder, he letting us kids say whatever... fun.
   Later:  Late night drunken calls to mom at the Los Gatos home.; he on EST, we on Pacific. Mom would try to be nice and listen to his ravings. I could always hear the conversations... so sad.
 
Some people say Neal felt as if he was trapped in the Dean Moriarty role, becoming a myth himself. Do you think this romanticises things a little or is there some truth in it?  
 
OMG, so much truth to that. He had always been suicidal, hated himself for his "demons"; sex, drugs... So after he met Ken Kesey and the (Grateful) Dead, who provided him with anything he might need... Mom divorced him in 1963, so everyone housed him, because of his On the Road persona... He told mom he felt like a trained bear, but it got him what he wanted. Those years were his "I need to stop" years, I think. He jumped in with two feet and 5 years later, he accomplished his wish. When we got the call from Mexico that he had passed, the family was relieved.
 
I always loved the "God is Pooh bear" line, especially the way Jack reads it on the Steve Allen show. Then I found out he was alluding to your Pooh Bear toy that your mother made you, as written in one of the letters to your mum. How does it feel when you think of that? Is Jack's mention of the Pooh Bear evidence that he really loved your mother and the idyllic set up she had with you the children?
 
Yes, Pooh Bear... Since my mom's mom was an English Lit teacher, Pooh, Wodehouse, Christie and many more were our staple books to read and love. I still have the original editions of the Pooh series that were mom's. Anyway, every Christmas mom would make a teddy bear for my brother John. I sure wish we had kept those! And yes, Jack loved my mom and us kids and dad. He could come to our home to feel at home.
 
What are your memories of Jack in his final years? Had the fame gotten to him and his drinking in the end? 
 
Like I said, Jack in later years was not in my life any more. He died when I was 19 living in New York taking classes at the American Ballet Theater when I heard the news on the radio. Neither mom, or us kids attended his funeral... Sad.
 
The name Kerouac itself is immortal. It's so embedded into culture now. When you think of On the Road, your father and Jack, is it weird to think they are so mythical to people, like sepia toned photographs that stand for another time and way of life? 
 
Yes, I do. My husband, Randy and I have been promoting dad's (and now mom's) legacy for years and years. I'd say 85% of people we talk to see dad as a "God". Phil Lesh told me he was "an Avatar". I bathe in my parent's ideals, accomplishments and love. I feel I chose this family to be a part of, as it is exciting, wondrous, loving and avant garde. Our Sunday school was at home in the living room in Los Gatos, drawing pictures as mom and dad read to us from Edgar Cayce, taught us about reincarnation, etc. I guess I wouldn't call that a normal childhood.
 

​Yes, April was a doddle. I just wish that was true. While I had an enjoyable month in some respects, I also caught a vile stomach infection that put me out of action for nearly two weeks. It was a Tuesday, and I had spent the early evening talking to the actor Stacy Keach on the phone for issue six of Scenes Magazine. It was a lovely chat and a huge honour to talk to such a legendary film and stage icon. After the chin wag I had my tea, made and prepared for me by my loving partner Linzi. The evening went on just like any other (shades of HG Wells' War of the Worlds there) and nothing of note happened. I fell asleep at a regular hour, but awoke at 2 AM with the funniest feeling in my stomach. The rest of the night was a horrific blur. Every thirty minutes I was vomiting brown liquid, bucket loads of the stuff. And to make things worse - without being too descriptive - it was coming out the other end too. It went on all night actually, right until 8:30 when my partner took our daughter Lily to school. It was a hazy, strange night, with so much fluid exiting my body so quickly - and so utterly violently - that I felt like there was nothing left inside when it finally began to ease. Oh don't get me wrong, there was a pleasant moment through the night when I watched a fascinating documentary about Custer's Last Stand at the Battle of Little Big Horn (randomly I might add - and what a twat Custer was eh?), but the rest of the night was spent clinging to the toilet bowl like it was a long lost relative I had never met but now loved and wanted to hold on to forever. Oh yes, and who also happened to reek of vomit.
   Anyway, I did eventually recover, thanks to Linzi who cared for me and supplied me with gallons of Lucozade. The week after, when I could move without the room spinning like a fucking merry go round, I typed up the Keach interview for the magazine and released it. Anyone interested can buy the issue from the SCENES page on this site.
   I also finally put the finishing touches to my book on Smoke and Blue in the Face, for which I got to interview the writer of both films, the acclaimed New York author, Paul Auster. Having Auster involved was like a dream come true. But he didn't just answer my questions for the book; he also helped out with errors and corrections. He was so helpful to me, and I find it quite moving that such a well regarded author would be so kind to a random fella from Yorkshire. I respect him enormously.
    In other work related news, I also got interviewed for it's Psychedelic Baby Magazine, all about my Dodson and Fogg project. You can read it here:
https://www.psychedelicbabymag.com/2022/04/chris-wade-interview-the-book-of-moods.html
   I got some nice press in Shindig! Magazine, a 4 star review for a recent Dodson and Fogg release... which was nice.
   I also got interviewed by Hannah Murray for her Book Show on Talk Radio Europe. She used to interview me years ago actually when I was writing mostly fiction, so it was nice to catch up with her. You can listen to it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3Tx4o9znOY
    Right, must be off. Got to eat a flapjack and do some writing. So long for now chappies...

Time marches on. Yes, indeed, time marches on. No, look again. See if you get it, lovey. The post is about the month of March, a March round up, and I just said that time marches on. MARCHES on. Do you get it? Do you get it? Ah forget it!
   Anyway, another month is over, done with, done and dusted, a distant thing of the past. I had a cool month for my work. I started up SCENES, a blog version of my cult and classic movie magazine, which I am also putting together a new physical issue of currently. But the blog is a good place to put book samples, interviews, articles and new bits and pieces too. I really enjoy updating it every couple of days. You can look at it here:

https://scenescultclassicfilm.weebly.com/
​
   This aside, I have also been getting the word out there about my book on James Woods' movies. It's been really fun interacting with people who've been discovering it, and I have Jimmy himself to thank for sharing it with his fans on Twitter. I have already had some positive responses from people who've bought and enjoyed it, which makes it all worthwhile.
   One cool thing I did for the book was appear on James Hancock's great movie podcast, Wrong Reel. We discussed Woods' career at length, key movies and his acting style. It was really fun, and I recommend listening to Wrong Reel whenever you can. James Hancock is a really enthusiastic film obsessive.... like me, You can hear the chat here:

https://wrongreel.com/podcast/wr589-the-films-of-james-woods-a-conversation-with-chris-wade/

   I also wrote a little piece for Cinema Retro about the book, which you can read here:
​
http://www.cinemaretro.com/index.php?/archives/11686-AUTHORS-CORNER-CHRIS-WADE-ON-THE-FILMS-OF-JAMES-WOODS.html

​   In other (shit) news, my beloved cat, Violet, was hit by a car, but thankfully she pulled through, though she did have to have a leg amputated. Still, she's stood next to me as I type this staring at me, waiting to get on to my lap for a cuddle. I drew a pic of her recently as a tribute. She's the only cat who's been struck on that road and lived to tell the tale... Not literally of course, that would be terrifying. 

​   I haven't recorded any new music this month, as I have been focusing on film-writing, but Dodson and Fogg has made its way on to some more indie radio shows recently. Plus, I did an interview for Psychedelic Baby all about my recent releases, which will be going live on their site soon.
   It's the Easter holidays at the minute, so my daughter Lily is off school. And, I might add, in my face a lot! No, I love it really. Spending time with her is great, though I do only manage to get a breather from her when I go and hide in the bathroom, pretending that I need a poo for five minutes' rest!
   So until next time, ta ta for now...

​I have just released my new book on the film career of James Woods, which has been one of the most amazing and fun experiences of my life. He's a brilliant actor, has been in some of the greatest films of all time, and has never given anything less than a great performance. As a film obsessive, I wanted to write the book anyway, and I came up with the idea of putting together a kind of guide to his long and varied filmography. I never imagined however that I would end up interviewing James himself so extensively for the book.
   I first interviewed him, in fact, in December of 2020, for a book I was writing on Once Upon a Time in America. When I showed him the resulting piece, he expressed his fondness for how it turned out. I then wrote a retrospective piece on his whole career for my magazine, Scenes, which he was also enthusiastic about. In May 2021, I had the idea for embarking upon the full book, and though he said he was totally OK with it, I was totally surprised when he suggested we do some interviews.
   And do some interviews we did! We started talking in July of 2021, going through his career film by film. We kept this up for weeks, months in fact, and it was such fun I can't even put it into words. One week we would discuss The Onion Field, the next Salvador. Another time we would group a few films together and talk about them, him sharing memories and thoughts. Stories from the set of Casino, Nixon, Any Given Sunday, The Specialist, Contact, Disney's Hercules, Best Seller, Cat's Eye, Family Guy, The Simpsons, White House Down, Contact, Citizen Cohn, Promise, Vampires, Videodrome, Against All Odds, Another Day in Paradise.... so many great movies, so many cool stories.
   The book goes film by film and explores everything from his first ever movie, Elia Kazan's The Visitors, through his earliest appearances on TV in the likes of Kojak and Streets of San Francisco, movies like Night Movies and The Gambler, before going into his iconic era of the 80s and 90s.  He told me about every single movie, sharing insights about his performances and each film in question. It was unbelievable for a movie geek like me to be hearing these tales. I should add this is no gossip book, but a book for film lovers. 400 pages of freewheeling chat about cinema.
   I also got to interview important Woods collaborators, like Oliver Stone, director and writer Tim Metcalfe, director Harold Becker, Sharon Stone, Debbie Harry, Dolly Parton and Jim Belushi. I am so proud of the book and I cannot imagine ever embarking on a project that will compare to it. James Woods himself has been so kind, giving and generous with his time that I have to salute him. People like him are rare, and I am so glad I got the opportunity to work on this book and write about what I believe is one of the most remarkable film careers of all time.

ORDER THE PAPERBACK HERE:
wisdomtwinsbooks.weebly.com/books.html

KINDLE HERE:
www.amazon.com/dp/B09TKPJ5V8

Although I'm feeling terrible with this shitty flu I have, I've logged on like a good lad to report a new Dodson and Fogg release. This one is very different though, I must say, and it's a new area for me. I really enjoyed putting it together actually, so I am glad people are getting it and taking the idea seriously. (Well, I hope. For all I know they might be laughing... No, probably not.) THE BOOK OF MOODS features a book of art and photos which give me a certain eerie, haunting, yet comforting feeling. I have included some of them with the article you are reading. (If you are reading it that is; after all, you might be skimming past or, worse still, not even looking at this post. But whatever it is you are doing, hi there and hope you have a nice day.) I have also put together a 20 minute instrumental to accompany the visuals. Looking at the pictures and taking in the sounds, I hope, gives you some kind of peace. So, you get the CD and the book together, but there is also a special edition with signed prints. I loved putting the art together, doing the drawings and choosing the photos, and I really do feel the music fits the odd sensation you get from the pictures. You can also download it on bandcamp where you get the book in PDF form. It was a lovely thing to do and I might do another one in the future.
    Right, that's me done for today. My head is clogged with phlegm, I'm coughing like a Dickensian derelict, and my world is now a place filled with crumpled tissues, old Jakeman wrappers, and empty flu tablet sachets. Peace out....

More info on the release here:
wisdomtwinsbooks.weebly.com/dodson-and-fogg-cds.html

​Well, I hear you say, where the hell did January go? So often I have heard people repeat the words, "I'll be glad when January is out of the way. It always drags." People actually want time to go fast. Why? What is the reason? Is it the post-Christmas Blues? The thought that the New Year isn't living up to expectations? Because it's so cold? I am not sure. This is all a mystery to me. Personally, I WANT January to feel long. In fact, I want every month to feel long. I want every day to feel long, every bloody minute and second. I want to live and I WANT it to feel like it's dragging, thank you very much. That's not to say I want life to be dull, boring and tedious, like one long dragged out snooze fest, but I want to be able to look back one day and go, "Wow, life is long", as opposed to, "Wow, that whizzed by". At the same time, this doesn't mean I want my time cramming full with activity, that nauseating "living my best life" feeling that you are only living if you are jet setting abroad every few days, leaping on to moving objects, jumping into water, taking selfies in front of landmarks, or standing on balconies sipping cocktails that actually taste like piss. That is worse. I like so called mundanely, and I want to spend as much time as possible on such everyday activities as sitting and reading, going for walks, looking round charity shops, working on my books, spending time with my family, seeing a friend. The so called mundane is life.
  So I am baffled whenever I hear people happy with the fact that a full month has passed by quickly. "February just needs to be done with now and we'll be into March." They yearn for spring I guess, but then in spring they seem to yearn even more for the summer, for the scorching weather we only get for about two months in England, and which most people complain about when it's here anyway. You can hear them sighing and huffing, saying they're sweating all over like pigs and can't get comfortable. Sleepless nights and clammy bollocks. "Roll on the cooler weather," they say. Then when it's autumn, the most beautiful season in my view, they grind their teeth and say, "Ooh, it'll soon be winter." In winter, "God it's so cold, roll on spring." And so on.... 

​   Rather than "living it large" and all that toss, I've had an interesting January, interesting to me at least. Some will find it tedious, of course, but to me it's been a nice start to the year. I found the New Year brought in renewed interest in my music (Greece is now a Dodson and Fogg red zone). I released a new Dodson and Fogg set, a 7 track albumy thing called AN EYE ON THE MOON. You can either DL (cool speak for download, to save time I suppose, even though I have now spent more time explaining what DL is and could have just put download in the first place and saved myself a few lines of waffle) from bandcamp or get a CD from my site. There is also a CD with signed art prints by myself. I had a lot of fun working on the album/long EP (I will keep referring to it as an album to save time OK?), even though it was recorded very speedily. Music is cathartic for me, both writing it and playing it, and these days it seems to come out in bursts. Every three or four months I will have this overwhelming urge to create, to make music, to get my thoughts out in song, in a direct and straight forward way. I know when it's time because I start to feel itchy, restlesss, muddled. As soon as it's done I feel back to normal, and get satisfaction from hearing the mixes and being as happy with them as I can be. Then people take the time to buy the music, stream it on my bandcamp, or get a CD maybe. My dad is always the first guy to give me feedback, as ever an encouraging fellow and good friend, and then it's the collectors or people who appreciate my work who show interest. It's moving for me to think someone would take the time to buy a CD or download, because so much soul and heart goes into the songs. I thank everyone who gets my music and takes it seriously. 

​   On top of this, I also released a Sharon Stone film and TV guide which goes into all her credits. That was a fun book to do. I have also been talking to James Woods again every week for our project - more of that later - and I have to say he is such a nice guy. What else? Oh yes, I spoke to the writer Paul Auster for a book I am doing on two films he made in the 1990s with Wayne Wang, Blue in the Face and Smoke. I am writing a wee study on them, and Paul was nice enough to chat to me for a couple of hours and continues to be open for help on emails. I am reading his novels like a beast lately, so it's thrilling to be in touch with him. The added bonus is that he's such a nice fella too.
   Another nice thing I should mention. A young lady emailed me saying Cutey and the Soifaguard is her favourite book (I wrote the novel in 2008, and then recorded an audiobook version with the late Rik Mayall in 2010, who narrated it). She also told me she had done some fan art of two of the characters in the book, The Wisdom Twins. "I drew these two lovely bastards", she said. You will see the lovely artwork below.

​   I don't think there is much else to write. January was a good month for work, I also had some nice times out with my family, and the five cats continued to torment me. Other than these details, that seems to be it for January 2022. Roll on February, which I hope drags on and on and feels as long as a year rather than a month.
   (Added thought: I was out for a walk yesterday and saw two shoes up in a tree. Why do people throw shoes in trees? Does anyone know? Please get in touch if so.)
 
Email me if you feel like it: wisdomtwinsbooks@hotmail.com

I'm a film geek. No, a film obsessive. There are plenty of us, movie addicts, but I just happen to be one who feels the need to write about my love of cinema in books and articles. I devote weeks to writing about the work of a particular actor or director, sometimes months on one film. I love films. Always have, always will. They are the ultimate art form. They combine all the others to make the most complete and all consuming experience. When not making music or spending time with my family, it's all about films.  
   As young people, we tend to get into films based on who's in the film in question, and only when we are a little older do we start to recognise films for their creator, their writer, their director. But in getting into cinema via an actor's filmography, especially one with a long and rich one, we get to experience all the great visionaries along the way. In our love affairs with the stars, we end up sampling the best of what the movies have to offer.
   I have been making movie lists and guides for years, since I was a boy in fact, only now I put these thoughts, theories and views into book form. One of my favourite things to do as a kid was to list my favourite actors, and then provide a summary of why I liked them so much and a list of their essential movies. I've never done this as an adult. For some reason, a childish one perhaps, I feel like doing it now. So here are my 10 fave actors at the moment, with a list of essential credits for each.
 
1, JAMES WOODS
 
Holocaust, The Onion Field, Eyewitness, Videodrome, Once Upon a Time in America, Salvador, Promise, Best Seller, My Name is Bill W, Hard Way, Citizen Cohen, Casino, Killer: A Journal of Murder, The Specialist, Ghosts of Mississipi, Contact, Hercules, Another Day in Paradise, John Carpenter's Vampires, Any Given Sunday, The Virgin Suicides, Dirty Pictures, John Q, Pretty Persuasion, Rudy, This Girl's Life, ER, Shark, White House Down, Ray Donovan, Too Big to Fail, Dice, Simpsons, Family Guy.
 
2, GENE HACKMAN
 
Bonnie and Clyde, Riot, French Connection, I Never Sang for My Father, Poseidon Adventure, Prime Cut, Scarecrow, Conversation, Night Moves, Young Frankenstein, French Connection 2, Superman, Misunderstood, Twice in a Lifetime, No Way Out, Hoosiers, Another Woman, Mississippi Burning, Narrow Margin, Class Action, Unforgiven, The Firm, Quick and the Dead, Get Shorty, Crimson Tide, Birdcage, Absolute Power, Antz, Enemy of the State, Under Suspicion, Heartbreakers, Royal Tenenbaums, Runaway Jury.
 
3, MARCELLO MASTROIANNI
 
Lucky to be a Woman, Big Deal on Madonna Street, La Dolce Vita, Il Bel Antonio, La notte, L'assassino, Divorce Italian Style, 8 1/2, The Organizer, Yesterday Today and Tomorrow, Marriage Italian Style, Pizza Triangle, A Slightly Pregnant Man, La Grande Bouffe, Don't Touch the White Woman, Todo Modo, A Special Day, Bye Bye Monkey, The Terrace, City of Women, Ghosts of Love, La Nuit de Varennes, Henry IV, General of the Dead Army, Maccheroni, Beekeeper, GInger and Fred, Dark Eyes, Intervista, Splendor, What Time Is It?, Everybody's Fine, Un Deux Trois Soleil, Pret a Porter, 101 Nights, Three Live and Only One Death, Voyage to the Beginning of the World
 
4, MICHEL PICCOLI
 
Contempt, Diary of a Chambermaid, Les Creatures, Young Girls of Rochefort, Belle De Jour, Benjamin, La Chamade, Dillinger is Dead, Milky Way, Things of Life, Max and the Junkmen, Liza, Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Wedding in Blood, Woman in Blue, La Grande Bouffe, Themroc, Don't Touch the White Woman, Vincent Francois Paul and the Others, Phantom of Liberty, A Leap in the Dark, Strange Affair, Passion, Passerby, General of the Dead Army, Dangerous Moves, Death in a French Garden, Le Paltoquet, May Fools, Walking a Tightrope, La Belle Noiseuse, 101 Nights, Party, Travelling Companion, Paris Timbuktu, I'm Going Home, Belle Toujours, Gardens in Autumn, Boxes, We Have a Pope, Les Toits de Paris, You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet.
 
5, JACK NICHOLSON
 
The Raven, Shooting, Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, King of Marvin Gardens, A Safe Place, Carnal Knowledge, Last Detail, Chinatown, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Tommy, The Passenger, The Shining, Reds, Postman Always Rings Twice, Terms of Endearment, Batman, Ironweed, A Few Good Men, Wolf, Mars Attacks, As Good As It Gets, Blood and Wine, The Pledge, About Schmidt, Something's Gotta Give, The Departed.
 
6, CATHERINE DENEUVE
 
Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Repulsion, Creatures, Young Girls of Rochefort, Belle De Jour, La Chamade, Benjamin, Donkey Skin, April Fools, Mississippi Mermaid, Tristana, Liza, Un Flic, A Slightly Pregnant Man, Don't Touch the White Woman, Lovers Like Us, Last Metro, Choice of Arms, Hotel America, The Hunger, Le Bon Plaisir, A Strange Place to Meet, Indochine, My Favourite Season, 101 Nights, The Convent, Thieves, Place Vendome, Time Regained, Dancer in the Dark, East West, I'm Going Home, 8 Women, A Talking Picture, Persepolis, A Christmas Tale, Potiche, On My Way, Brand New Testament, The Midwife, The Truth.
 
7, SOPHIA LOREN
 
Too Bad She's Bad, Lucky to be a Woman, Scandal in Sorrento, Pride and the Passion, Boy on a Dolphin, Legend of the Lost, Desire Under the Elms, The Key, Black Orchid, Two Women, Millionairess, Madame Sans Gene, Boccaccio 70, Five Miles to Midnight, Yesterday Today and Tomorrow, Marriage Italian Style, Arabesque, A Countess from Hong Kong, More Than A Miracle, Man of La Mancha, Voyage, A Special Day, Blood Feud, Pret A Porter, Between Strangers, Nine, Lives of the Saints, The Life Ahead.
 
8, SHARON STONE
 
Deadly Blessing, Stardust Memories, Total Recall, Year of the Gun, Scissors, Basic Instinct, Specialist, Intersection, Casino, Quick and the Dead, Last Dance, Diabolique, The Mighty, The Muse, Gloria, Antz, Sphere, Simpatico, Broken Flowers, Bobby, Alpha Dog, When A Man Falls, Huff, 5 Dollars A Day, Lovelace, Fading Gigolo, All I Wish, Ratched, Life on the Line, New Pope, Agent X, Mosaic.
 
9, ROBERT DE NIRO
 
Greetings, Hi Mom, Mean Streets, Bang the Drum Slowly, Godfather 2, Taxi Driver, 1900, The Deer Hunter, Raging Bull, King of Comedy, Once Upon a Time in America, The Mission, Untouchables, Midnight Run, Jacknife, Goodfellas, Awakenings, Cape Fear, Casino, Heat, This Boy's Life, Wag the Dog, Jackie Brown, Analyze This, Meet the Parents, Being Flynn, Everybody's Fine, The Irishman, What Just Happened.
 
10, GERARD DEPARDIEU
 
Nathalie Granger, Going Places, Vincent Francois Paul and the Others, 1900, Barocco, Maitresse, Last Woman, Get Out Your handkerchiefs, Buffet Froid, Bye Bye Monkey, Last Metro, My American Uncle, Loulou, Choice of Arms, Woman Next Door, Return of Martin Guerre, Danton, Police, Jean De Florette, Tenue de Soiree, Under the Sun of Satan, A Strange Place to Meet, Too Beautiful For You, Camille Claudel, Green Card, Cyrano de Bergerac, Merci La Vie, Germinal, Elisa, Secret Agent, Count of Monte Cristo, Between Strangers, How Much Do You Love Me?, Potiche, Bellamy, Mammuth, Life of Pi, Welcome to New York, Valley of Love. 

​And so, here we are. Another year is under way, and we are all getting used to the idea of another 12 month period with COVID taking up all the headlines, of this not so new virus being on the lips of everyone you pass (muffled as their conversations are beneath their masks), affecting everything we do in our lives - that is, if we are leaving the house. Staying in is OK. You can act like the world is the same as it was pre-March 2020. You can pretend that you don't have to stick a mask on as soon as you go into a shop, even if you're the only guy in there. If you stay in, as I do a lot with my work, you can flamboyantly stride about the place, mask-free, coughing arrogantly into the air, sneezing even, without fear of crosses appearing from the pockets of those in close proximity, who then hiss and curse you. You can even show off your nose and mouth and smile openly without fear of being wrestled to the ground by a security guard. I am being facetious of course, but no one can deny the hysteria.  
   Yesterday I went to Leeds centre with my dad. Everyone was masked, indoors and out. Even the young busker was singing from beneath a mask. Toilets were closed, benches had been taken away, and the cafe we did find open didn't give out plates or trays for fear of COVID infection. Signs in shop doorways said "No mask, no entry." And some of them really meant it. So you head in, strapping up your face. If you take the mask off even for a second, just so you can take a breather in the corner, believe me, you'll be on CCTV and they'll find out you dared to remove it. My dad and I couldn't help but feel that, even though these restrictions had been applied for the good of the people, to save lives and look out for our fellow man, there seemed to be no humanity, or very little at least. The effects of COVID are contradictory. In theory they should have made the world kinder, but it's actually become more brutal and cold. It makes one think of a man signing a petition against animal cruelty, who then goes out and hits a badger with a hammer... or something like that. 
   Now, the flippant part of my piece is over. In truth, COVID is still a concern. Everyone is catching it now and while most of us are getting fluey, some are still getting seriously ill, others sadly dying. It's catchier than it's ever been. Everyone it seems is bound to get it, at least in some form or other. What scares most is the fact that it's pot luck how bad you get it, and what the effects will be down the line. The best you can do is stay as safe as you can, to use your rational mind - if you have one that is. I feel to be a COVID denier is to be in denial of reality and life itself, but to be a COVID doom monger is to rob us all of the joy of existence. The healthiest mode, I think, is somewhere in the middle. Carry on living, but be cautious, and also respect the views of others. For me personally, life is continuing as ever before. I see the people I usually see (the ones I can of course, for there are some I'd like to see but can't for various reasons), I go out occasionally, but happily spend most of my time at home, writing, emailing friends and associates, reading, listening to music, watching films, recording music, seeing to my work, spending time with my family. As a man very used to what others have called a "lockdown life", perhaps I am not the ideal person to talk about the difficulties of the COVID era, two years and counting. Selfishly, in some ways my own life hasn't changed at all, even though I feel for others, those who've lost their livelihoods, their loved ones, their lives. As much as the restrictions may frustrate you, think of all those people and what they have been through. That, at the end of the day, puts it all into perspective.
   If what I have written here seems paradoxical, that's because it is. Nothing is black and white, and my views of the COVID era are grey, as many others are. But I feel what happens in the next few months will be vital. Will we learn to live with COVID in 2022? And what will living with COVID mean? We shall see. We cannot forget that so many people have died of this strange virus, and the fact that some have experienced true horror. And as if this isn't bad enough, it now turns out we have been openly mocked by those in charge, and at the height of COVID restrictions too. When people were isolating alone, losing their minds, when they couldn't spend time with loves ones, were saying goodbye to their beloved relatives, or watching from a distance in the graveyards as coffins were lowered into the earth, Boris and his Eton educated cronies were supping expensive wine and nibbling cheese in number 10's expansive garden. It sickens me to my stomach. There is no option now. I feel we need to get the hay haired loon out and let someone else have a go, someone with empathy, someone with thought for others, but also someone who understands life, can see things from another perspective, has some knowledge of the struggles people endure out there in the real world.  In other words, anyone but Boris Johnson.
   So yes, another year begins, or grinds awkwardly into gear at least, rusty cogged and creaking wearily. For me in my daily life, it will be like last year, and the year before, and the year before that. I will write, record music and do the things I enjoy. Yet I will not be in denial, and will feel and fear for others. I'm OK, but what of the world outside my cosy, safe environment?
   Will we ever see the return of the world of old? I believe this year we will find out. 

​Well, well, well... What an interesting few days. The build up week to Christmas is usually a magical time for all of us, a period of festive days out, of roaming through German fairs selling oversized jugs of beer (enough ale to have you down at the A and E getting a festive stomach pump) and overpriced yuletide twaddle, a time of families huddling in tents drinking hot chocolate, of shuffling through the crowds, dipping in and out of shops, gloved and scarfed up to the eye balls. Oh, it makes one feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it?
   Well let's cut the bollocks. My Christmas build up was nothing like that this year. Last Friday we took our daughter for her final school day of the year, where she was looking forward to boogying on down, eating nibbles and saying adios to her buddies. An hour or so into her school day though, we got a phone call saying she didn't feel well and wanted to come home. We picked her up, realised she looked off colour, and speedily gave her a COVID test... which instantly turned heavily positive. She started to panic, naturally. To make her feel better I took one too, just to calm her down a bit. But I was shocked to see my test come out boldly positive too. That wiped the condescending tosserish grin from my face!
   We were officially in the COVID Club now. We laughed and high fived each other, two full fledged members of the corona gang. My laughter however, was quickly cut short when I speedily spiraled into a fluey hell, a tornado of dizzy spells, haunted sleeps, sweaty panics, headache tablets and Lucozade. From that day onwards I began to feel more and more like a sack of excrement. Boiled excrement. The following few days are now a blur to me...
   My daughter was ill for a day or so and then started to come round. I on the other hand, lay on the sofa in my designated diseased corner like smeared road kill, rotting more and more as the days went on, my eyes getting pissier, my face more and more of a distant smudge, my nose bright red and bell end like. I slept, ate Jakeman's throat sweets, slept more, had Lemsips, watched a few minutes of films in between my haunted slumbers, read some of Paul Auster's In the Country of Last Things, which made me feel more delirious, and spoke to my partner and daughter now and then in a muffled, faded parody of a voice. I was, in a word, fucked.
   Eventually a week had passed. I started to feel better. Having COVID in the Christmas build up was odd, given that I got to enjoy nothing of the festive season whatsoever, as I found myself moving - but really not moving at all - towards the big day. On Christmas Eve we went out for a drive to look at the Christmas lights. It was like an out of body experience after a week on the sofa, but it got me in the mood for a lovely Christmas Day to follow. I drank too much whiskey, played with toys, had fun with my daughter, ate a feast lovingly made by my partner Linzi, and generally farted around, being enchanted by Dudley Moore as an elf, by Mel Smith voicing a grumpy Santa, and then Rik and Ade having a crappy crimbo in Bottom. It was a splendid day with my family, as the haunting, feverish spectre of COVID, like one of Scrooge's pale faced ghosts, faded into the background. That corner of the sofa will forever be the COVID corner, the place where, during that weird festive period, I sweated, farted, sneezed and coughed my way towards Christmas Day. Let's hope I dodge coronavirus next year, eh?

​Early 2012. I had just got myself a nice new acoustic guitar after a long break from music, and naturally I'd immediately begun farting around on it, playing to CDs and even writing some songs of my own for the first time in years. One day I realised I had an album's worth of tracks, and that they were pretty good. Feeling ambitious, I decided I would have a go at recording them. I got myself a USB microphone and set up a space in my office to get some plain acoustic demos down. They came out OK. I was most surprised.
   Off the cuff one afternoon while messing around in the office, I emailed someone I admired very much, Celia Ford Drummond, who had once gone by the name of Celia Humphris. She had been the lead singer of the UK folk rock group, Trees, back in the early 1970s. When the band dissolved she became an actress and voice over artist. She was even the voice of the London underground and rail lines up and down the country. To this day I believe her voice can be heard on some platforms across the UK saying "Mind the gap."
   Anyway, I had interviewed Celia for Hound Dawg Magazine, my free PDF on the arts, in 2010. Trees were one of my favourite bands and she was a personal favourite singer. We had stayed in touch in the two years that followed, and once I had these new tracks together, I emailed her in early to mid 2012. Feeling brave, I asked if she'd be interested in hearing a song or two. I added, somewhat sheepishly, that if she liked them she might even fancy providing some vocals to them. She said she'd give them a listen, but that she didn't do much singing these days. I expected, quite naturally, a no. A day or so later she got back to me and said she liked them and would gladly provide some backing vocals. I was blown away.  
   The first one we did was called All Day Long, written about a strange man that lived near us who went out and performed weird hand signals to his mother, who he could see looking out at him from the window - despite the fact she had been dead for years. We nicknamed him Spike, due to his resemblance to Spike Milligan. I was happy with the song itself, but when Celia sent me back her vocals, the song took on a new life. In all honesty, I actually cried when I heard what she'd done. She had recorded four voices, all harmonising, all beautiful, all mystical. Anyone who likes Trees will know that Celia really knew how to play with her voice and was a truly fantastic singer. Hearing her tones isolated from any music, then mixing them on the headphones on my PC, I could hear the power of her voice, the way she could move it and bend it.
   Once I mixed her four takes into the track, I sent it back to Celia. At first she was surprised, because she hadn't intended me to use all four, as they were just different takes. But it had been a happy accident and we both agreed that it sounded good... which is the understatement of the year. (I still get shivers listening to her vocals on that song.)
   After that she did two more for me, Meet Our May and Say Goodbye. I decided to call this new weird project Dodson and Fogg, after the two solicitors in Charles Dickens' Pickwick Papers. I also got the late Judy Dyble on to do a spot of guest vocals (eerily enough the voice of a ghost on a song called Weather Changes) and Hawkwind legend Nik Turner even sent me across some far out flute playing to put on a track or two. Even though other people were on the album, it was Celia who impressed me the most. I couldn't quite believe I was sharing audio space with the voice of Trees, who had hauntingly sung about the Garden of Jane Delawney and Polly On the Shore four decades before on those two iconic, mythical albums. It was one of those "pinch me" moments.
   Celia enjoyed doing the vocals so much, and was so pleasantly surprised that feedback was as good as it was, that she said she'd be up for more collaborations in the future. Over the next few years she contributed to a lot of songs, and everything she did was astounding to me. She's on quite a few Dodson and Fogg albums, and her work on In A Strange Slumber and Derring Do is especially special to me. In about 2016 we stopped collaborating as much. Her voice became more tired, and she found she had less time to record vocals due to other commitments. When she told me her health was failing her, I naturally assumed, given her positivity, that she was going to be OK. Sadly, she passed away in early 2021. I was genuinely devastated. I never met her in person, but we emailed a lot, shared jokes, checked on each other's families, and most importantly of all, got creative together. And the music we collaborated on means the world to me. The last bit of work she did was for my art film, A Full House of Empty Rooms, a bit of narration for the start and the end. But it's the music I will remember most of all, and the magical qualities of her immortal voice. I feel blessed I decided to email her that day, out of the blue, and asked her if she'd like to do a spot of singing. Thank God I did.