First off: Happy Birthday Gold Anne! Hope you have a great day!
And moving on… I’m a fan of a Canadian band called Moxy Fruvous. Never heard of them? Yeah, no one else has, either, unless you’re from Canada. They’re fun, they’re sweet and I don’t even know if they’re still together, but I have a few of their albums and really like ’em.
I was listening to their 1999 album, Thornhill, a few nights ago and it got me thinking. Y’see, the CD I own has an autographed sleeve. It was sent to me by my friend Mike after he spotted it in a charity shop (in Portsmouth, I think) and he decided to fork out a couple of quid on my behalf, which was bloody nice of him. (Incidentally, if ever I added up all the CDs Mike’s sent me over the years I’m sure it’d be half my collection, so I owe him big time.) The fact the CD has signatures all over it is an unexpected Brucie bonus and I’m really chuffed with it… except…
It’s signed to a guy named John Bond. Two members of Moxy Fruvous have written “Cheers John!”, another has scribbled a little picture for him, and the fourth has drawn a speech bubble and written inside it, “I know John Bond.” All of which implies that Moxy Fruvous knew this guy, though it’s hard to know how well.
So how come this CD ended up in a charity shop in Portsmouth?
Why did John Bond decide to abandon it?
Did he just wake up one morning and decide he didn’t like Moxy Fruvous any more? Did he emigrate and have a huge clearout? Did he know the band really well and have a falling-out? Or did he just not give a toss about tossing Thornhill?
Whatever the reason, it vexes me. I feel my CD has been unloved and unwanted, from the second it left the hands of Moxy Fruvous until it plopped through my letterbox from Mike.
At least it has a happy home now. But I’m still vexed. Poor Moxy Fruvous.