This morning I was woken up by a bird whose call was identical to that bit in "Pressure Sway" by the Machinations where the singer (whose name I forget - forgive me) goes "call ... me up".
But before that, I was dreaming that I was walking through unrecognisable streets of Melbourne with my old school friend Mark Eddy, the person in those days whom I so much admired, some might say worshipped, some might even say followed along behind like a faithful but pathetic puppy. Mark Eddy, aka Doyle, aka the Albino Afro, aka Rufus Vasco da Gama, aka Eddie Dyer, aka the White Clive Lloyd. Where are you now?
