That’s right! You read the title correctly. I’m going to be on Honduran television. I’ve always felt talented, beautiful and charming enough to be the face of the media. Well, my chance has come, on Simplemente Dorys. To those who don’t know me, don’t worry, I’m not that much of an eejit, but I am excited nonetheless.
It’s a talk-show, which my friend Luis Mejia works for (Luis also went to London with ICYE) with interview of what it’s like for a foreigner living in Honduras. I’ll be mentioning the book, which should be published next year by the way, Casa Alianza, Wilson Palacios, my friends, Mormons, Tatumbla, trujillo, my gripe with being called chele and gringo, and I will probably embarrass my Pamela, my girlfriend, as much as I can.
It should go out to the public on Sunday. Hopefully they will put it on to youtube and I’ll put a link to it on this blog.
To change the subject completely, I have been reading a Ray Bradbury book of late, The Illustrated Man. So far so good. I haven’t finished it, but his style of writing reminds me of Hemingway. Straight to the point and matter of fact, which my friend Frank pointed out, probably came from the fact that he was a journalist beforehand, like Hemingway. I recommend this book anyway.
I have also just read Here Comes Everybody, by James Fearney, who was the accordionist in the Pogues. It’s a wonderful memoir, which starts with how the Pogues formed, how they rose, up to the point they sacked Shane MacGowan from the band. I, as many know, am I massive fan of the Pogues. I’ve been to see them three times, and I haven’t even done that for Noel Gallagher. That’s how much esteem I have of them. It was a delight to read this book. Fearney is obviously a seasoned writer, who has a great range of vocabulary, which meant that I had to keep a dictionary very close by throughout trudging through it. It also went into detail about the state of Shane MacGowan’s drinking ruined things, and how he became so unreliable. As stated, I have been to three Pogues concerts, and I am ashamed to say, I laughed at some of Shane’s antics on stage. His drinking habits are celebrated by many people, which takes away the sadness of the fact that he has wasted a lot of his song-writing talent on drink. Shane MacGowan is something of a hero for me, and like the saying goes, you should never meet your heros. It mentions his prima dona moments and his arrogance, which you can probably imagine from such a talent, but also how, probably through the strain of touring or pressure of fame, this made him even worse on drugs or on the bottle. The only criticism of the book is how we don’t learn how the group as a whole dealt with the fame. Maybe they didn’t deal with it very well, which is why they split up in the early-90s (but now back together). And we don’t realise how James dealt with fame. No one in the band made that much money from it, due to their manager taking a large slice of the profits. But otherwise, it’s great, especially if you’re a Pogues fan. To celebrate that, and the fact Luis has been to London, I am going to include one of my favourite Pogues songs, London You’re a Lady. I like to think to myself that the song is about Birmingham, but it’s not. Oh well.
As for now, I must put some make-up on my forehead after I somehow managed bang myself against a window handle last night and left a nice little red mark for all of Honduras to see.