Song #73 All the Very Best

 

ALL THE VERY BEST

 (LISTEN)

Sing a song tell a joke

Close your eyes to the world

Throw your head back and sing

You spread your joy and laughter

It’s all part of your master plan

 

You play the fool drink a toast

Tell tales as a clown

Shut your eyes while your melody soars

You preach a message of peace through

 Miners, beggars, and whores

 

CHORUS

Yours is a voice from heaven

Sent to remind us that someone somewhere

Needs you

 

You bridge the gap

‘Tween now and the past

And share it with all your friends

To teach us all that singing our stories

Should never end

 

Such power in your voice

With the beauty of tune

Interspersed with a wicked grin

You left me waiting’ hopin’

That you’ll soon be back again

 

CHORUS

 

You roamed the world

Singing your songs

To the lucky and fortunate few

Who knew what to say

If we were asked ‘Vin who?’

 

It’s hard to accept

Your soul’s now silent

And that voice will soar no more

All the very best

Now you’re at rest

You left us wanting more

 

CHORUS

Copyright M Coghlan 2018

More on Vin Garbutt 

  

The Bad News Tsunami

 

Most of the postings on this blog of late are from the past. Lest I go drifting totally off into nostalgia it may be a good idea to write something about the present. Trouble is, the present has this giant dark cloud hanging over every aspect of existence. And that cloud of course is COVID.
We are besieged by a tsunami of bad news. "All media work us over completely. They are so pervasive in their personal, political, economic, aesthetic, psychological, moral, ethical and social consequences, they leave no part of us untouched, unaffected, unaltered.”
Like the young person referred to in the article above I am  “agonisingly well-informed” – a perfect phrase to describe ... people who have “no means of remedying the situation, like the captain of a sinking ship who knows exactly where the hole is in the hull but has no way of plugging it."
The relentless doom detailed in all media outlets over the last two years is crippling me. It’s not just COVID. It was also the Trump phenomenon and all it encompasses, the tormenting of refugees in off-shore detention centres, the assault on democracy from within its own boundaries, the reluctance to tackle climate change, species extinction … I could go on and list another dozen bleak issues about which I am agonisingly self-informed and at the same time feel helpless to remedy. 
Last week I took a few days away and journeyed around Western Victoria visiting a number of small towns with populations of less than a thousand people. I turned off all media and just drove, walked, took photographs and listened to music. It worked a treat. I felt better immediately. I need to distance myself from media more and more. I feel the damage its doing to my soul. I no longer feel light about life. Right now I don’t want to know about what’s going on beyond my bubble. I don’t want to know about case numbers, how many died, how many children got sick this week, the effects of long COVID.  It has gone past been interesting. It has gone past the point where I feel I should be informed. Being informed is simply debilitating.

My First Time Out of the Country

 I've been reading a book about someone else's travels and it prompted me to write about my first ever journey overseas - to New Zealand. It was 1972 and I was 18 years old.

 Leaving your homeland for the first time is exciting. I remember craning my neck backwards while watching the NSW coast recede into the distance through the window of the plane. The metaphorical umbilical cord had been cut and I was off to another land. Not too far mind – just ‘across the ditch’ to that other down under nation – New Zealand. I travelled with my friend Tony and as he had New Zealand cousins we went directly to their place in Hamilton and used that as home base for the next few weeks.

It’s interesting to look back now and note that we never for one minute contemplated any other mode of travel around NZ other than hitchhiking. We set off south together and reached Wellington in the early morn. Early enough to ‘buy’ some milk from people’s verandas in houses where they still slept. We were hungry and thirsty and no shops were open so we thought it was reasonable to help ourselves to milk from people’s verandas and leave some change to cover the cost of our theft! We clearly had a sense of what was the morally correct thing to do!

We agreed that if someone ever stopped to give us a ride but could only fit one of us in the car we would split up and meet at the next agreed destination. For the most part this worked well. But on one occasion in the South Island it left me stranded at Kaikoura. We had probably agreed to meet further down the coast at Christchurch but it got dark and I decided the public toilet at the Kaikoura train station was cosy enough and spent the night there. I’ve had hundreds of rides while hitchhiking over the years and most of them have drifted away into the past with no trace of recognition. I don’t know whether it was the fact that my first ride next morning rescued me from the toilet, or whether it was the fact that he was a priest, but a priest he was and I squeezed into his little Volkswagen for the next slow leg to Christchurch.

Our accommodation all over New Zealand was in youth hostels. It was great way to meet fellow travellers from all over, and they were cheap. You shared bunk bed style accommodation with many others, but for this privilege you had chore(s) to do each morning after breakfast. This might be cleaning the dormitories, toilets, kitchens, or sweeping up outside. It took about half an hour and there was no skipping it.

I dragged my guitar everywhere with me back then so I often got involved in sing-a-long music sessions at night. One night in Te Anau this American guy was joining in the singing but was really missing playing the guitar. He asked me if he could restring my left-handed guitar and play a few songs. I agreed and was glad I did. He was a great guitar player and everybody loved it. He happily put the strings back the other way when he was done – no mean feat. It takes a minimum of 20 minutes to do that so you really need to want to do it. That American guy was important for another reason that night. He was the first of many Americans I met while travelling who was really good at something – singing, writing, diving, skiing. Whatever it might be they had obviously dedicated a lot of time getting good at it, and were confident enough in themselves to demonstrate it or talk about it. It was in marked contrast to the Australian way where we tend to downplay our talents and prefer to blend into the crowd and not set ourselves apart as anything special – a cultural consequence of the Tall Poppy Syndrome perhaps. I thought the American way was more interesting, and more productive.

After we had been travelling for a while and had stayed in several hostels it was lovely one night – I think it was in Picton – to be recognised by one of the fellow guests. ‘You’re that Australian guy I’ve been hearing about who plays left-handed guitar and has been singing at lots of other hostels around New Zealand’ this woman said. ‘And people say you’re really good!’ Obviously there was more music and singing that night!

Somewhere in the South Island Tony and I split up again. I was standing on the edge of some town again and this small car stopped. The car was jam packed full of stuff. This woman was moving house and had everything she owned on board – including her cat! She said I could get in if I could fit me, my pack and guitar in somehow. She was quite happy for me to rearrange her stuff as needed. So I did -  got me and my stuff packed in and we set off. She really just wanted company, someone to talk to. It was an important point to understand when hitchhiking. Not everyone stopped just to help you out – though many did just that. Many picked you up because they wanted someone to talk to, help pass the time, keep them awake, and even occasionally the chance to take a break from driving.  

Our final hitchhiking stint in NZ was fantastic for me, but not so for Tony. Leaving Queenstown for our return journey to Hamilton a car pulled up and said they could take one of us. As it was Tony’s turn to take the first ride that came along he hopped in and I continued hitching. Not long after a Canadian couple who also only had room for one picked me up. A short while later we passed Tony by the side of the road – his ride had been a short one. My ride with the Canadian couple lasted for several days – up into the glacier country, across on the ferry back to the North Island, and eventually all the way back to Hamilton. Tony arrived back in Hamilton a day or so after me telling of miserably short rides, long waits, and an incredibly rough ferry crossing where he had spent much of the time vomiting. Life just isn’t fair sometimes!

Song #72 Don't Change Your Mind

 There was a long stretch in the 90s where I wrote very few songs, and I've just guessed the dates for many songs. But I know this one was written just before the overthrow of Saddam Hussein in 2003 - so perhaps 2002.

DON’T CHANGE YOUR MIND

 

One day we’ll all be gone

Some day there’ll be a me-less dawn

Do you wonder – what will remain?

Of that crazy guy from down the road?

 

Who for 10 years was always there

Smoking, gutter bound

A child-man in his own time

Already a statue in my mind

 

Or the two guys with hip long hair

As twins they walk, heading somewhere

Each day the same routine

Who will remember them when they’re gone?

 

There’s a battle for terror in every Western land

Coalition of the willing looking for their man

Guns in central Asia pointed at the man

Who detonates bombs with a wave of his hand

 

Meanwhile down on the sand

Adelaide cruises on

Sunsets end our days

I come home and find you there

 

Whatever things may come

Home means peace with you

Safe harbour for another day

I hope you don’t wake and change your mind

 

Bombs explode while Baghdad boils

Some still say it’s a battle for oil

Papers freak us out; mayhem all around

Terror Australis – where are you bound?

 

One day we’ll all be gone

Please hold me and keep me near

In our safe harbour

Please don’t wake and change your mind

 

I hope you don’t wake and change

I hope you don’t wake and change

I hope you don’t wake and change  

Your mind

 

(M Coghlan circa 2000)

Commentary: written around the time the Coalition of the Willing (US, UK, Australia) believed Iraq was manufacturing weapons of mass destruction and there was much chest-thumping and war mongering among Western allies. Clearly too I'm beginning to contemplate mortality. It's also a love song;  a song of thanks to Elizabeth.

 

 

Song #71 New Times

NEW TIMES

(Listen)

CHORUS

Well my son’s away – our thoughts and prayers go with you
Travel far and safe – our love goes always with you

As you follow your dreams – remember those at home go with you
Though you’re far away we travel in silence with you
Hoping you’ll find what you’re seeking

There’ll be brand new faces – who will want to know you
Brand new places and some will no doubt test you
But I know you’ll find your way through

CHORUS

I have watched you change – from baby to grown man
I love who you’ve become – a man who knows that children
Can teach us lots of life’s lessons

And no matter how long – you roam the world afar
There are people at home – who you can always turn to
If it all seems too hard

CHORUS

BRIDGE

I wandered abroad to discover new seas
We took you away from this land that you now leave
So I well understand what now takes you away
And wonder alone what your new world will bring
And if this land.....will be home again

CHORUS

(Copyright M Coghlan 2012)

Commentary: a goodbye song I wrote for my son who had just headed off to live in Europe.

The Webheads Story

 

In 1997 I came across a website called English for Internet (EFI). It offered ESL and EFL students free web-based English lessons. It was run by David Winet out of his home in Berkeley (California) and he was looking for teachers willing to volunteer their time to teach an ever-increasing number of students who wanted to learn English this way. I knew almost nothing about how to teach online but I jumped in the deep end and with David’s help and endless patience I started my own sessions. 

As well as asynchronous web-based exercises we met weekly on Sundays in a virtual classroom called The Palace. There was another teacher who ran classes at The Palace just before my session - Vance Stevens and he was based in the UAE. 

Many students just stayed online at the end of Vance’s class and joined mine. Over time the two classes just blurred into each other and it became apparent that what students really wanted to was meet together online and practice their English. This arrangement continued for some years. We were joined by another teacher from Cologne in Germany, Margaret Ann Doty. But the majority of participants were bonafide students from all over the planet – Taiwan, Brazil, China, Australia, the US, Argentina. We called ourselves The Webheads.

In the early 2000s Vance decided to expand the group and try and recruit more practising teachers and use the growing community as a professional development vehicle for language teachers worldwide. It was an enormous success and became known as Webheads in Action and evolved into a fully-fledged community of practice with active members in multiple countries.

Many of us were involved in presenting at conferences about online education and it was quite normal for many of us to call on other webheads to help deliver what Jonathan Finkelstein dubbed multiple venue presentations. And slowly too as webheads began to travel many online connections were cemented by face to face meetings. Some of these meetings even extended to family members. My son met my dear webhead friend and colleague Teresa in Portugal. This frenzy of collaborative online teaching and learning, supplemented by regular meetings face to face, was a massively productive and enjoyable part of my personal and professional life up until around 2014. And throughout this time we continued our Sunday online meetings at noon GMT!

When I retired from full time work I deliberately scaled back much of my online activity but still today I meet a small group of webheads online every fortnight, and know that when I go travelling again there are webheads around the planet who will welcome me to their lands.

So perhaps the song below now makes a bit more sense. Being part of the Webhead community had a profound impact on my life, and I will forever be eternally indebted to Vance Stevens for his indefatigable efforts in making sure the community stays alive. And to Teresa, Rita, Ying Lan, Felix, Bee, Dafne, Chris, Jonathan, Eric, Aiden, John, Elizabeth, David, Nina, Carla, Jane, Buth, Tom, Peter, Graham, Thuan, Jennifer and so many others – thank you for enriching my life, and being friends across the waters.

24/7 – we’re online

It doesn’t really matter – whatever the time

Someone’s there to answer the call

Or maybe you’re lonely in the middle of the night

Someone’s there to answer your call

You’re going on a journey to a foreign land

Want to meet a friend there to show you around

There’ll be someone there to answer your call

 

Song #70 Webheads Theme

 

Michael doing the Webhead Salute

WEBHEADS THEME

 (Listen HERE)

CHORUS

Webheads – all over the world

Webheads – we’re all over the world

 

 

24/7 – we’re online

It doesn’t really matter – whatever the time

Someone’s there to answer the call

 

CHORUS

 

You want to know how to do it right

Or maybe you’re lonely in the middle of the night

Someone’s there to answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

You want to join your class up across the world

Or you want an expert to talk to them live

Someone will answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

You’re going on a journey to a foreign land

Want to meet a friend there to show you around

There’ll be someone there to answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

Learning together – sharing our views

Living together – sharing our news

Always someone there – on the same wavelength

 

CHORUS

COMMENTARY:  The Webheads changed my life. I can't believe I've come this far into this blog (about 20 years!) and not posted the story. The amazing story is inferred and referred to in many talks and presentations but it's time I documented my role in the Webhead story here. In the meantime co-Webhead founder Vance Stevens has done a sterling job of maintaining all webhead archives HERE.