My dad loved Harry Belafonte. By extension as a kid and to this day I love Harry Belafonte. He always seemed to be a guest on the variety shows, and there was always something serious and also whimsical about Harry Belafonte's songs. He could be funny and endearing but he was also serious and was an activist for civil rights. All of this was of course alien to me. All I knew was here was a man who knew hold an audience in the palm of his hand and was a master at his craft. In the early '80s I discovered that one of my best friends Tony also loved Harry Belafonte, and his favourite song was "Matilda" which to me was fantastic. We would sing the song in our loudest voices, and it didn't really matter that we both loved rock and roll ... there was still room for Harry. There was always room for Harry. The records my father had I took many years ago, and then subsequently lost to water damage. Still bugs me that I didn't put those bloody boxes up off the concrete ...
A place where I just blather on about shit that I either miss, or am excited about. Or I could just be deliberately trying to waste your time. I generally really don't know what I'm talking about. Sometimes I do. Sometimes this is like a stream of consciousness brain dump. I like to think of it as a reaction video, without the video ... mostly though it's just me rambling ... it's meanderambling. #oldenoughtoforget