Apologies

For the few days that I've not posted: as ever, the Jones stuff got in the way.
We played in Manchester last weekend, at the Academy, for Gigantic. A day of worries over traffic, issues with technology, and changeovers that aren't quite long enough. But, it was one of those occasions where it doesn't matter - at all. We played an absolute blinder. At one point (in the middle of "IBYT", I think) I was overcome by an absolute wave of adrenaline, and confidence. I felt absolutely bulletproof. There was a sense of....mania, perhaps. I almost laughed, with the sheer power of it.
So, a wonderful gig.
And we stayed in West Didsbury - not one of the areas I particularly know, in Manchester, but as luck would have it, it's right next to the Southern Cemetry. One of the largest in Europe, it's a really bucolic, and meditative location - and on a Sunday morning, when I needed to get my head straight, it was perfect to just stroll around. I could feel all of my thoughts and plans, rationalising, and falling into place. It was - in a sense - the counterpoint to the mania of the night before  - but held a similar sense of amazement for me: I walked into the hotel again, feeling that I'd had some sort of Epiphany. I thought about my life, wife and children. About my hopes, and dreams. About my mortality, and my will, my strength, and my failings.
Above all, I thought about the past. There's a line in "The Devil You Know" where Mike refers to the "ghost of the past". It's always rankled me, somewhat - and it took that Cemetery walk for me to understand why. The past isn't a ghost at all - it's very much alive, for me. I don't want to live in it, or live it - but the lessons it taught me are what makes me me. the past walks by my side, as I step into the future, it holds my hand, shows me the way, silently. Everything I ever did, and everything I will do - these two strands, joined together.