The Man At The Bus Stop

In our recent Creative Voice 2 classes, we’ve been using a variety of things as sources of inspiration. Last week it was dreams (the one time I desperately needed one, I didn’t have any, so I made something up instead), and the week before that we used old photographs. In the first week, we simply had to think of a person we knew or had encountered. There are many things I could have written about countless people I know, both good and bad, but I decided I’d pluck someone random out of thin air, and that’s how I came to write about the man at the bus stop. His story is a relatively simple one, but it isn’t something I’ll be forgetting in a hurry – it touched me and it might just touch you too.

In the autumn of 2016, when there was a 90-minute bus journey between me and my workplace at the time, I was shivering with my coat wrapped tightly around my body as I waited for the bus to arrive. It was nearing 7am and obviously still dark at that time of year, so you would be forgiven for thinking that I wouldn’t be up for talking – and I wasn’t, until the man beside me piped up. He was an elderly gentleman, and if I’m honest, he looked rather stereotypical complete with flat cap and walking stick. Even at the age of 85, though, he had lost none of his energy, and as we gradually established a conversation he exuded a great deal of warmth, particularly when he spoke about his wife.

I had noticed upon first seeing him that he had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and he eventually told me that he was taking them to her. He’d been doing this, a four-hour round trip, six mornings a week for at least a couple of years, ever since she’d gone into a care home with dementia. He didn’t go on Sundays. They were his quiet days, which he spent alone in the house they shared – he never mentioned any children or grandchildren. I only ever knew him as a devoted husband, who told me about his wife with the kind of love I haven’t seen or heard anywhere since. He talked about their life together, what they’d done for a living, the places they’d travelled to, and what he did for her now she was in the home. He cooked for her, cleaned for her, made sure she always had clothes to wear – whatever it was, he’d help out. Apparently, she didn’t recognise him very often, but whenever there was a moment of lucidity, they could reminisce about some of their most precious moments together. Even though the woman he’d spent a lifetime with was ebbing away before his eyes, his enthusiasm for seeing her every day never seemed to waver once – I remember him telling me that despite everything, “she’s still my girl”. I couldn’t help but think that a lot of guys I knew could learn a thing or two from him.

These conversations continued for around three months, ending when the Christmas break arrived. When I started work again in January 2017, and arrived at the bus stop for my first day back, the man was nowhere to be seen. That didn’t seem like a good sign at all, since he had been so adamant about his determination to take the journey whenever he could. Then the bus pulled up, and the driver got out to help me aboard. “By the way”, he said, as he put the ramp down on the pavement, “the gentleman you’ve been speaking to wanted me to let you know his wife passed away over Christmas.”

My heart sank at that moment, as I know his will have done. We never even knew each other’s names, but I did feel like we’d established a nice little connection, and there was a definite dampener on the rest of that day for me. I haven’t seen the man anywhere since, and I don’t even know if he’s still with us. If he is, I hope he’s gotten to a place where he’s comfortable and content, and if he isn’t, I hope someone was there to show him love and support in the aftermath of his loss. It’s what he would have done for his wife, unquestionably and unconditionally. If you ask me, the man at the bus stop was the definition of true devotion.

Mason

Mosaic

So, we’re now onto the last of the songs from my module that I’m going to show you. It’s a version of Blur’s ‘On Your Own’ – or part of it – entitled ‘Mosaic’, although ‘Collage’ might have been a better name. It’s a mish-mash (and that’s a technical term) of phrases and images with no meaning whatsoever. I’d put some degree of thought into each of the preceding three songs, so I wanted to close my assignment with one that made absolutely no sense. Having a completely blank canvas was slightly daunting, as is always the case, but I was looking forward to seeing how absurd my imagery could get and what the limits of my imagination were. These verses are therefore pretty weird, since I wasn’t taking them seriously, but I hope you don’t either. Enjoy!

(Verse 1)

All the lemons stowed away in their chip paper

Embraced by the flowing summer sun

Oh, it’s all in the past, no-one cares now

Little amethyst assassins on the run

Now you’re on the telephone

But you’re talking static

As the big glass door slides shut automatic

And did I leave the gas on in the attic?

Lose myself in the dense yellow mist

Floating on away

 

(Chorus 1)

And now the flies

Keeping a surprise

It’s in their feet

And it’s in their eyes

Just hibernation

Resting at the station

Galactic sleeper

But no Grim Reaper

I’ll ride on home, inflate a dome

Light the stars in airplane fuel

We’ll be starting a blaze in the head

 

It’s food for the soul

For the soul

 

(Verse 2)

And the sky is raining rods in shades of emerald

The grass is growing high around the hogs

Sniffing hungry round the eyeballs

Of a kitty

And eating the bread the man’s thrown onto the lawn

On the emerald lawn

 

Mason

 

 

Stay Tuned To Find Out

Before Christmas, I shared my altered version of Coldplay’s ‘In My Place’, which I called ‘Endless Miles’. It accompanied three other songs as part of a submission for my Composing Song Lyrics module, which I handed in just last week – I therefore feel that now is a good time to show you the second of my songs, ‘Stay Tuned To Find Out’. This is an adaptation of Jamiroquai’s single ‘Automaton’, from their 2017 album of the same name, and it was included in my collection because I needed a song with attitude, something that contrasted with ‘Endless Miles’ to provide variety in my lyrics. The title came first, during a seminar, and I then had the idea of writing something about a person’s past sins coming back to haunt them – the words you are about to see reflect that. As with the last song, you can listen to the original and see how well you think they fit. There is a full rap verse in the Jamiroquai version, which I’ve attempted to start here as I was running short on the overall line count, but I wasn’t confident and I decided to stop before I made a fool of myself:

(Verse 1)

Up or down?

Now stay tuned to find out

Coming round

As all hope just bleeds out

Feel his heat

Breath burning your back

Avoidance of doubt

(avoidance of doubt)

Turn it on and up you get

 

(Chorus 1)

He’s not turned your corner yet

Blood-boiling, sizzling walk of sin

No matter where you check, you cannot run, no you cannot hide

From the march of fate

Out of the dark, into the light

Oh, when the judgement day is done

You’ll have your mind and soul destroyed

Stay tuned to find out

 

(Verse 2)

Out of luck?

Thirty second head start

He’s on his way

Hears the beat of your heart

It’s on the wind

Now pray for mercy

Oh, you can lie and you can cry, the end is nigh

(just stay tuned to find out)

Revenge is coming for you

 

(Chorus 2)

He’s standing right on your doorstep now

Eager to stare you in the face

Sets things the way they’re meant to be

And puts you in your place

Now come outside, time to pay your debt

Will he forgive all that you’ve done?

You’re past the point of no return

Stay tuned to find out

 

(Verse 3 – beginning of rap verse)

Now he’s got you pinned to the ground

Tied up hard howling like a hound

Will he leave you there just starved and bound?

Time to find out…

 

Mason

The Roaring Twenties

Happy New Year! It’s 2020 – and that sounds like a year from an old science-fiction film, doesn’t it? You might expect to look around and see people zooming this way and that with jetpacks or hoverboards. Unfortunately, though, technology has still not quite progressed far enough for that, and life goes on just as before. At around this time last year, I committed to two New Year’s resolutions, one of which was successful and the other less so. I am hesitant to establish any new ones this year, although it has been noted that as of now, I am exactly halfway through my degree. What that means is that sooner or later, I will have to look to the future – and so, after I go back to Winchester on Saturday, I intend to start working on what I’ll do and where I’ll go. In case progress is slow, though, I’m not going to keep you updated on that unless there’s actually something substantial to say!

I also want to make sure I have more to say about 2020 on here, and while that might not mean being massively prolific, I am going to try and post more than two or three times a month where I can. In the event of a shortage of anecdotes from my own life, it might be a good opportunity for me to branch out and include other voices and other things, which seems apt when you consider the blog will be five years old in August. I can’t make any promises, but you’ll have to watch this space. The year is a blank slate, and anything could happen.

Mason

Endless Miles

I’m writing this sat alone in the Learning Cafe, having just finished tinkering with one of my essays, due on Friday. There is almost total silence, save for the background hum of a generator an annoying high-pitched whine I can’t quite trace the source of. Despite my solitude, I am happy, since I have a Christmas meal at Lara’s flat with all of the gang to look forward to tomorrow, and I’ve just listened to the new Coldplay album, Everyday Life, which is simply brilliant. Once I’d taken my headphones off at the end, I started thinking about my own adapted set of Coldplay lyrics, which I’m working on for Composing Song Lyrics.  I had to take them into class earlier this week so they could be critiqued by everyone, which is always a nerve-wracking experience. Even though I know it’s highly unlikely, I always expect everything I write to be completely torn to shreds, so you can imagine my relief when the lyrics came back with only a few notes for improvement at this stage.

My version of ‘In My Place’, entitled ‘Endless Miles’, is an intentionally cliched love song. Since I greatly admire the original, I was worried about accidentally making a mockery of it with my own words, but I knew I wanted to include it in my portfolio – and that any other lyrics I wrote for it would probably be no better. We are, of course, discouraged from including cliches unintentionally, but as long as you can justify your use of them, anything goes. Cliches can help to make a song more relatable or accessible to a listener, and as you might expect, they can be beneficial when you want to parody something. I wasn’t trying to do that, but I still found some of my lyrical choices laughably cringeworthy! I include ‘Endless Miles’ here for what I hope will be your enjoyment – although I haven’t made any of the changes that have been suggested just yet. Listen to the original track as you read these lyrics, and decide for yourself how well they fit:

(Verse 1)

Endless miles, endless miles

I’ve driven looking for you

Following your trail

But in the end, in the end

I rounded the final bend

And I saw no more

 

(Chorus 1)

There, the last call to let you go

There, no footprints left in the snow

There, the curtain to end the show

I go

 

(Verse 2)

Coming home, coming home

No-one and nowhere to roam

No-one on the phone

Is this love? Is this love?

You’re dropping me down from above

Down into the rain

 

(Chorus 2)

Here, the next chapter of my life

Here, when will I be free of strife?

Here, you cut me just like a knife

A knife

 

Darling

Why? Why? Why?

Why did you have to go?

No, no

Why don’t you say you’ll stay?

Now, now

Come on and talk to me

Please, please

I’m here at home

 

(Verse 3)

Endless miles, endless miles

I’ve driven looking for you

Now we’ve reached the end

The end.

 

Mason

 

A Quad Bike In The Lobby

Remember the ideas I had for my forthcoming short film, set out a couple of posts ago? Well, you can now forget them all, because they’ve been replaced by something that I think could be even more promising. The new idea was devised in a haze of desperation, when the clock was ticking down to my first official workshop session and I still didn’t have anything good enough, despite my best efforts. At the eleventh hour, I shut myself away in the library and focused on the method I’d used before, combining locations, objects and mise-en-scene to find something I could work with. I wrote down a number of throwaway suggestions. Most of them were so hopeless that they aren’t even worth mentioning, but just when I thought all hope was lost, there was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. It came in the form of a single line: “man rides quad bike through hotel foyer/lobby?”

This image definitely piqued my interest. In order to have someone pull such a dramatic stunt in a place like that (and I’d envisioned it as a posh hotel), there has to be both a major reason and major consequences. He certainly wouldn’t have a job afterwards! From these thoughts, the rest of the story began to grow, and after a couple of workshops with our tutor, this is what I have. My protagonist, a porter working at the hotel, will arrive one morning and be immediately hassled by a snobbish and aggressive manager as he carries out several thankless jobs. We will soon learn that this is a regular occurrence which has made the porter feel belittled and demotivated, and has eroded his confidence. The story’s inciting incident will then come when he finds an expensive watch lying on the carpet, unseen by his manager. Intrigued, he takes it to reception and is told it belongs to an elderly lady who arrived the previous day.

When he reaches her room, he attempts to return the watch, only for the lady to immediately reply that the watch has been stolen from a local jeweller’s. The porter is stunned as she explains that the theft is among the things she has written on a list of risks she wishes to take, as she feels her life has become stale in old age. Throughout this interaction, she demonstrates a clear mischievous streak in defiance of her years, and gradually inspires the porter to take a risk of his own. Inspired by his hatred of his job and manager, he decides to tender his resignation in the most chaotic way possible. That’s where the quad bike sequence comes in!

There’s still some more development to come before I commit the story to a script, but at this point it seems to be shaping up well. What I have to do next is a step outline, which will break down the idea a little bit more, and then I can start the screenplay itself ahead of its due date on 22 December. I’m definitely confident about both. It’s much easier to feel that way when you’ve got an idea that’s developed more naturally, rather than one you’ve forced – even though I forced myself to come up with it in the first place…

Mason

 

 

Outer Space, Outer Space

I’ve recently started a new project, creating the 120-150 lines of song I need for my next Composing Song Lyrics assignment. Unlike others in my class, I don’t sing or play, so I’ve taken what is supposedly the easiest option by choosing to rewrite existing songs instead. The first step in all of that is choosing the tracks I want to work on, and as I write this, that’s still very much a work in progress. I do have one song set in stone, which I rediscovered my love for a few weeks ago thanks to Spotify’s random choices – Coldplay’s ‘In My Place’ (song titles go in single inverted commas, apparently). However, the only issue with being able to choose songs you enjoy is that you risk butchering musical masterpieces with your own mediocre words, and that was definitely at the front of my mind as I started to think about mine.

We’ve been doing various writing exercises in seminars over the last few weeks that we hope will get our creative juices flowing. Many of them have involved writing about different unrelated emotions or scenarios in prose or loose verse, so that we can pluck certain words and phrases for later use. In my case at least, some exercises have been more fruitful than others, but a few words, lines and images have helped me to get started. Last night, I went to the library to begin my new version of ‘In My Place’, and because the song has a relatively simple syllabic structure and rhyme scheme, I had written a draft I was satisfied with in around half an hour – giving me 39 lines of lyrics. A blank sheet of paper is daunting for any writer, so I initially focused only on getting started and committing to an opening line. What I came up with was “outer space, outer space”, which mirrors the repetition of the title in Coldplay’s original, since I felt a degree of pressure at first to be faithful to it. It had the effect of evoking something better, though, so I soon replaced it with something else. From there, the rest of the piece seemed to flow nicely, and my portfolio was officially underway.

Because I’m rewriting something existing, it is imperative that the new song exactly matches the syllabic count of the original. In some cases, there may be an opportunity for an extra syllable in a line where one has been stretched by the singer – but I have to try and remember not to get greedy. I have a feeling that whatever the next four songs are, their new words won’t come quite as easily as the first set did, and I’ll have a lot more to consider before I can make them work. Each submission has to be accompanied by a 30-second recording explaining what you were trying to achieve with it, so there are both technical and emotional aspects to think about. Even so, I’m finding the study of lyrics less highbrow and much more accessible than I did traditional poetry last year. I can only conclude that that must be because of the nature of popular music as something which is designed to be cherry-picked and enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age, experience or background.

Mason