December 13, 2007
Led Zep, nostalgia and senility
I am delighted to discover that there is a form of nostalgia that I am too young for. This week’s "Led Zep" frenzy left me pretty cold. No so FT readers - it seems. Our review of the Led Zeppelin reunion concert this week made the paper’s "most read" list.
I didn’t totally miss out on Led Zeppelin, the first time around. The first rock film I ever went to see was a recording of one of their concerts called, "The Song Remains the Same". And so it did - for hour, after interminable hour. The low-point was an 18-minute drum solo. The film was released in 1976 in London and even to my 13-year-old eyes, it was clear that Led Zep did not represent the future.
Before I crow too much about my extraordinary youth, however, I should face the truth. I may be "only" 44, but I’m going senile. Sitting on my desk is the fourth blackberry I have been issued with in the past 18 months. I’m too terrified to pick it up and move it (which kind of defeats the point), in case I lose this one as well. Number one was left on a bus in Istanbul; number two was left in a taxi in Washington; number three was left in a taxi in London.
Clearly, Blackberries - being small and constantly in use - are very liable to get lost. Nobody fair-minded could blame me for that. Until recently, I told myself that blackberries (and mobile phones) were the exception. Generally, I am superbly well organised. But then, just before setting off for the Gulf, I couldn’t find my passport. After a panicky half hour search, I found it in the inside pocket of a jacket. But the really alarming thing was that I had no recollection of why it might be in that particular jacket. What had I been doing, why had I put it there?
Then, when I was in Abu Dhabi, I left my wallet in a taxi. More panic - Abu Dhabi, does not feel like the sort of place where you want to be without money or ID. But - miraculously - this particular taxi-driver (unlike his counterparts in Washington and London) came back to my hotel and returned my possessions.
I can also definitely feel my short-term memory going. For example I can still remember the phone number of an ex-girlfriend from almost 30 years ago (876-5983); but I sometimes cant remember the number of the FT - and find myself ringing The Economist or my parents instead. Further evidence of short-term memory loss. I spent three days at a conference organised by the International Institute of Strategic Studies and then wrote "security studies" in my column on Monday.
But I must stop rambling like this. I know that there is something urgent that I must do. I just can’t remember what it is.
Dear Gideon
It is all very alarming — though I haven’t detected any deterioration in your writing or your wit!
Posted by: RCS | December 13th, 2007 at 6:30 pm | Report this commentGR: “But I must stop rambling like this. I know that there is something urgent that I must do. I just can’t remember what it is.”
It will happen; you’ll become a grumpy old man and the world will move one way and your wisdom another!
Posted by: WCM | December 13th, 2007 at 6:39 pm | Report this commentIn rather motivated fashion I ventured outdoors recently heading for a meeting during which the thought struck me that I had closed my door behind me without taking my keys. A few phonecalls and borrowed car trips later I found myself merrily entering the front door of my house again with the spare keys formerly in posession of those appointed to keep them just in case. However histore se repete as it does and two days later I ventured out in similar brisk fashion my mind totally on the business close at hand, spare keys and regular keys firmly locked up with the rest of my domicile behind my unknowing departing self. That was last november and it was rather cold outside as I judiciously slammed a brick against one of the smaller available windows. Nobody came to take a peek at what the noise was all about as I managed to gain entry and vowed to be even more cautious about these things.
Youre not too old for star wars though, remember what Yoda said, “All his life has he looked away to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph.”
Posted by: Felix Drost | December 13th, 2007 at 9:32 pm | Report this commentGideon, doddering you may not yet be but on a recent trip to London from the U.S. I was delighted at the voice pouring from the I-pod of an old friend’s 16-year-old son. It was Robert Plant’s. Though I may top you with signs of forgetfullness, but Led Zeppelin isn’t just for old fools.
Steve LeVine, author
Posted by: Steve LeVine | December 13th, 2007 at 10:56 pm | Report this commentThe Oil and the Glory (Random House)
http://www.oilandglory.com
1. Rock music reached its (early) apogee under Jimi Hendrix (this can even be pinpointed to the 1969 Woodstock performance);
2. The early Led Zepellin were much more accomplished than the more popular music they released later on;
3. The most under-appreciated writer I have ever read is the Finnish Timo K Mukka — whose extensive oeuvre remains mostly untranslated into English, except for a few short-stories. Here is a literary aperitif to whet the appetite — hopefully, some publisher, someday, will expand the English menu (please scroll down to the bottom of the page where the story “The Wolf” begins):
http://books.google.com/books?id=vGUri9Qr22wC&pg=PA276&dq=timo+k.+mukka&ei=7p5iR_vABp6MjAHwlKGBBw&sig=sriXia-HLvQfjBIvz05prrNGY6Q
Posted by: RCS | December 14th, 2007 at 3:24 pm | Report this commentThere is also one other absent-minded little error on the right hand panel (under further reading) where the label says “Robert Lustig”. The guy’s name is, in fact, Robin.
Posted by: Pacifist | December 14th, 2007 at 6:26 pm | Report this commentI was horrified to discover that late this friday several trips around my appartment failed to disclose the location of my mobile phone. In a state of mounting despair I tried to call it so its voice (in my case the sound of a luddite telephone) would betray the location of its hideout. Silence met me. I called out for it but its puny voice failed to reach my ears. Only hours before, Gideon’s blog must have inspired it to, much like pencils in the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, escape to retirement as well. I have not anthropomorphized the creature into my reliable dog; more like a stubborn cat it was hiding out where I was starting to assume it would assume its lair: the passenger seat of my car.
I would have liked to be poetic about this, saying I approached my car and hearing it (the phone) call out while I called out for it but since it only rings four times before escaping into voice mail and since my regular phone fails to operate sufficiently beyond the confines of my apartment, I must confess I just opened my car and took the damn thing out. It was cold, but it’s warm and snug now. In a few hours I shall rely on its alarm function to wake me up, its calendar program to tell me that I am free all day. If I require memory, it provides; if I need companionship, it intercedes. It has taken over my secondary vital functions. It has become google incarnate; without these technologies I am not the man I am. People our age Gideon do not require viagra yet, but if you’re asked what colour the pill shall be, it shall be a colour delivering us from these dependencies.
Posted by: Felix Drost | December 15th, 2007 at 12:23 am | Report this commentWell, if you are talking about music of the future and loosing your mind… I can only suggest one song that offers a beautiful combination of the two - Gogol Bordello’s “Start Wearing Purple”. I believe it goes like this:
“All your sanity and wits they will all vanish, I promiss -
It’s just a matter of time.”
The video is on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_81l4DXlwM
Posted by: MYV | December 16th, 2007 at 9:30 am | Report this comment… instead of worrying about the downside look forward to the upside: soon you will constantly be meeting “new” interesting people …
Posted by: Martin | December 19th, 2007 at 3:36 pm | Report this comment