Lordy. If it wasn't for one glorious day at the beach, I don't know how I would have made it to Sunday.
Because these days only the wind, or a wave, or a board in my face, can make me forget that I live in Harperland. Or the suffocating heat, the old lady with her head in the fridge, the tragedy of Norway.
Or the long announced death of Amy Winehouse. Which is also a tragedy because she was a huge talent who changed the music scene forever.
She was sharp; had a way with words, as well as song. And, oh boy, the songs – the accolades, the awards and the artistic attention was all justified too. Back to Black, her second album, with its six Grammy nominations and five wins when she was only 24, changed the music scene for ever, with its lyrical musings on cold, dead broken hearts, illicit sex, and chips and pitta and gin.
And nobody could save her from her demons and her drug addiction.
There were many subsequent attempts to quit herself of drugs and booze for ever. She tried in the UK, she tried overseas. Her stays in these places never lasted long, because Winehouse's real problem was self-belief, an insecurity only compounded by the extraordinary worldwide success of Back to Black, which left her less sure of herself than ever before.
It's such a waste. But she did live her short life to the limit.
While we walk back and forth like ants in the barren desert of Harperland, measuring out our little humdrum lives like cough mixture. Putting ties on our straitjackets, and making a virtue out of boredom.
Yup. History will be much much kinder to Amy Winehouse than her short life was to her.
In the end, long after people have stopped telling stories of drink and excess, they will talk about Amy Winehouse's voice and her music.
And she WILL be remembered by her many fans.
Long after tomorrow is over...
Although I'd rather remember her like this...
A little pissed but having fun.
It's your life. It's your life.
Ain't life a monkey?
It's summer in Harperland.
Enjoy it while you can...
