#stuart tosh
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Pilot
From the January 18th, 1975 issue of Jackie Magazine
(via: eBay)
#Pilot#Ian Bairnson#David Paton#Billy Lyall#Stuart Tosh#vintage photography#70's music#mid-century#70's#1975
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10cc live in Holland. circa 1985.
#my man Eric lookin fine fine fine#i could just eat him up#this is giving socal vibes ✨#10cc#eric stewart#graham gouldman#rick fenn#stuart tosh#my gifs
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HEY !! SHES GOOOOONNEE (IM SPENDING ALL OF MAH MONEHHHHYYY) SHES GONE GONE GONE (AND I CAN SWING WITH MAH HONEHYYY) SHES GOOOONE IM SO GLAD THAT WOMANS GOONE
#wooooo i love that song#10cc#eric stewart#graham gouldman#rick fenn#paul burgess#Stuart Tosh#tony o'malley#Spotify#snowy's stuff
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The Alan Parsons Project
I Robot
1982 Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab
—————————————————
Tracks:
01. I Robot
02. I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You
03. Some Other Time
04. Breakdown
05. Don’t Let It Show
06. The Voice
07. Nucleus
08. Day after Day (the Show Must Go On)
09. Total Eclipse
10. Genesis Ch.1 V.32
—————————————————
Ian Bairnson
Allan Clarke
B.J. Cole
Stuart Elliott
Steve Harley
Jack Harris
John Leach
Duncan MacKay
Alan Parsons
David Paton
Stuart Tosh
Dave Townsend
Eric Woolfson
Lenny Zakatek
* Long Live Rock Archive
#MFSL#Mobile Fidelity#Alan Parsons#Eric Woolfson#Ian Bairnson#Allan Clarke#BJ Cole#Stuart Elliott#Steve Harley#Jack Harris#John Leach#Duncan MacKay#David Paton#Stuart Tosh#Dave Townsend#Lenny Zakatek#I Robot#Reissue#Art#1982
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Happy 74th birthday Scottish musician David Paton
Paton was s member of Pilot, the band that had a smash hit in the 1970s with “Magic.”
Born 29th October 1949 in Edinburgh, he grew up in the south-eastern suburb of Gilmerton where he attended Inch Primary then Liberton High School where is art teacher was Roy Williamson of the Corries.
His first band was called The Beachcombers and they signed a recording contract in 1968 with CBS Records. The band were hugely popular in Scotland in the 60s, introduced the young Paton to the city’s live music circuit, venues like the Palais de Danse, Top Storey, The International on Princess Street, The Gonk Club and The Gamp
They changed their name for The Boots and released a couple of singles with little success, the band split because of money problems in 1970. He then replaced a guitarist in the Bay City Rollers, for a short period of time but never recorded with them. After leaving them in October 1970, he became a member of another band called Fresh, which changed their name for Chrystian and published a single, "Nursery Lane", in 1971.While still playing with the band, he took a job as a musician in Tiffanys, an Edinburgh nightclub where he met Ian Bairnson and they formed Pilot.
The band compromised, Paton with Ian Bairnson, Billy Lyall, and Stuart Tosh, Pilot literally made magic with their commercial single of the same title. “Magic,” (written by Paton and Lyall, produced by Alan Parsons) this skyrocketed the Scottish group to international star status. The band struck gold again with Paton’s “January.” More albums and singles followed. By 1977, only Paton and Bairnson were left from the original foursome, and they recorded Pilot's final album (the aptly titled Two's a Crowd) with session musicians, eventually Paton and Bairnson went there separate ways and Pilot folded.
After Pilot, Paton steadily built an impressive body of work, collaborating with The Alan Parsons Project, The Pretenders, Paul McCartney and Kate Bush, among others. In the last decade, Paton has toured the world in his own right and released his own music, including one album containing the first recording of January.
David Paton is still making music, his last album , The Traveler was released last year, I have however chosen to highlight Fragments, a collection of traditional Scottish songs and two of his own compositions, one of which I picked. Have a listen it's a cracking Scottish song, and check Youtbe for his versions of Scots' Wa Hae, Jock O'Hazeldean and The Bonnie Blue Bonnets among others.
This Honest Land
I've had my kicks wi' brother Scots
From Adelade to John O' Groats
I've met them a' the world o'er
They're on every distant shore
Though some be rich and some be poor
They'll welcome you and that's for sure
There's warmth and kindness there to see
They'll give the same to you as me
This honest land is in our hearts
No matter where we go
And when we come together
We let it show
Sing if you wanna feel love inside
Say any time is right inthe day or the night
Sing and we all can sing along
Say if you wanna feel love if you wanna be one
Well the rain may come
And the wind might blow
But the sun will shine
And the clouds will
But either way to me is fine
It's aye the same come rain or shine
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY to ABBEY ROAD—The 1969 epic album by The Beatles, Lynn Anderson, Johnny Appleseed, surf music guitarist & journalist John Blair, photographer and photojournalist (and my friend from the Davy Jones/Monkees orbit) Michael G. Bush, Carleen Carter, Craig Chaquico (good to have met you), Darby Crash (The Germs), Gal Costa, Donna Douglas, T.S. Eliot, one of my musical heroes Bryan Ferry, David Frizzell, another one of my musical heroes George Gershwin, Linda Hamilton, Dick Heckstall-Smith, Shannon Hoon (Blind Melon), Dolores Keane, Amanda Kearns, Julie London, Olivia Newton-John, Ivan Pavlov, César Rosas (Los Lobos), Tracey Thorn, Stuart Tosh, my friend & photographer Carol Waldvogel (thanks for all the photos), the musical WEST SIDE STORY (premiered 1957), Serena Williams, and a great American singer-songwriter, entertainer, and NASCAR racing driver Marty Robbins. As one of the pioneers of “outlaw country music,” he released 500 recordings and 60 hit singles from the late 1940s into the 1980s. He’s best known for the western ballad “El Paso,” and I’m a fan of his interpretation of “Red River Valley.” I play both of those songs in assisted living homes, along with Marty’s “A White Sport Coat & A Pink Carnation”— https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qB0NM8JbYM ...The lyrics portray a shattered young man who was stood up at the prom but, without saying, you know he’s going to bounce back. Marty got the visual for this song after passing a group of teenagers decked out for their high school prom. He zipped off this song in 20 minutes. His original 1957 track is premium country-pop trimmed with doo-wop and rockabilly. His creamy smooth voice owns the story, and his goal was to out-chart his earlier single “Singing the Blues,” which was eclipsed by a competing version by crooner Guy Mitchell. Ray Conniff arranged Mitchell’s international hit, and Marty insisted Ray run the session for his new song. Marty’s instincts were correct—it became his 3rd #1 hit, and it’s still on playlists and soundtracks (it’s also name-checked in Don McLean’s “American Pie”). It’s a fun vocal work-out. If you have prom photos you’d like to share (white sport coat optional), please post. Meanwhile, HB MR and thank you for your great singing and giving us so many songs.
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#rocknroll #popmusic #rockabilly #doowop #countrymusic #martyrobbins #highschool #prom #whitesportcoat #pinkcarnation #guymitchell #rayconniff #mitchmiller #donmclean #americanpie #johnnyjblair #birthday #singeratlarge
#johnny j blair#singer songwriter#music#singer at large#san francisco#pop rock#Marty Robbins#birthday#carnation#El Paso#Youtube
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One way of organizing the outfits that take their cognomens from one or more members' names can be into the form of a musical project. A great example of this is The Alan Parsons Project whose moniker tells us enough, i.e. this should be seen as an endeavour lead by Mr. Parsons who looks for other people to join him, yet in the end he calls all the shots. Sure, things changed throughout the group's opus, but their debut, Tales Of Mystery And Imagination, followed this scheme. The disc's concept was Parsons' retelling of Edgar Allan Poe's stories and I am shocked not many progressive rockers decided to do something like this, because Poe's narratives fit the idiom quite well. Moreover, you can also hear the mastery of studio, which has been Parsons' strong suit.
#alan parsons project#tales of mystery and imagination#the cask of amontillado#alan parsons#john miles#ian bairnson#david paton#stuart tosh#billy lyall#eric woolfson#terry sylvester#bob howes#the english chorale#andrew powell#70's music#progressive rock
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TOSH Family -- May We Remember -- David Tosh Mervin Tosh Stuart Tosh Eric Spalding
TOSH Family — May We Remember — David Tosh Mervin Tosh Stuart Tosh Eric Spalding
Attachment 1: My father, Hartley Tosh, who was in the Army during WW2
adhs The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
09 Oct 1942, Fri • Page 23
Attachment 2: My father’s 2 older brothers, Stuart & Mervin Tosh. Stuart was in the Air Force & Mervin was in the Navy during WW2.
The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
16 Jun 1937, Wed • Page 12
Attachment 3: Eric Tosh (Not Yosh) Spalding was…
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#almonte#david tosh#eric spalding#hartley tosh#mervin tosh#Mississippi mills#perth#soldiers#stuart tosh#Tosh
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17. An Unexpected Visitor
If you’re reading as a one-off, this part is set at in 1987 where Prince Charles and Camilla are openly together in front of their friends but newspapers were starting to realise that things were not all okay on the Wales front.
If you’re reading as part of Tea Time - this is chapter 17
There was a rustling coming from the kitchen. Camilla started, thinking she was on her own but then the kettle sounded and she relaxed. Burglars don’t make themselves cups of tea. But Andrew wasn’t due back and Tom was at school and Charles would have rung before showing up. Everyone else would knock at the door.
She got up, half wondering if she should get a rifle, but that seemed a bit extreme, and walked cautiously towards the kitchen. She could hear the milk bottles rattling as the person opened the fridge. A burglar who needs a cup of tea?
“Hello?” She opened the door and stared inside at the man in her kitchen. Short and slightly chubby, he had a mop of unkempt hair and was holding one of her mugs out to her.
“Tea?”
The absurdity of being offered tea by a stranger in her own kitchen wasn’t lost on her. “Talk, before I phone the police.”
“But would you phone the police, or would you phone officers you specifically know?”
“The police. You’re lucky my husband wasn’t here; he would have shot you.”
“Yes, your husband often isn’t here. But when he is, you’re all three very cosy with the Prince of Wales.”
“Oh, I know who you are.”
“Oh do you?”
“You’re that bloke who got arrested for ‘testing out security’ at the Prince’s house.” She saw his eyebrows raise and clarified, “I read about you in the newspapers.”
“Stuart Higgins, pleasure to meet you.” He tried to shake her hand but he had a mug in his hand. She took it off him before he spilt it and gestured for him to sit down, amused now. “I’ve got a few questions for you.”
“So you break into my house and…”
“No, no, no, I didn’t break in. Your house keeper let me in.”
“She let you in the kitchen?”
“Erm… not exactly… but she let me in and the kitchen was open…”
“So you were snooping?”
“Snooping… interesting choice of word. I went to get myself a glass of water…”
“But found a kettle? And decided, why not? What are you after? Why are you here?”
“I’m not after anything.”
“Tosh. Tell me what you want to know…”
“Well I didn’t exactly come to ask you anything… But if you don’t mind clarifying some theories I may have collected…”
“Tell me what you came for and I’ll see what I can do with the theories.”
“Really?”
“Sure… Why not?”
“So you’re not going to phone the police?”
“I thought you said you didn’t break and enter?”
“Absolutely positively did not do that…”
“If I ever find you in my house again, I will call the police…”
“But I could call you instead… Run things by you?”
“Spill…”
“I’m not so sure how to say it… it’s just that one or two junior journalists, you know how they are, may have got it into their heads that you and Andrew are awfully cozy with the Prince.”
“We are good friends, yes.”
“Ah… but Mrs Parker Bowles, you’re a little too cozy with him. It’s not normal… and Andrew doesn’t mind you spending so much time with him…”
“My husband and I value the Prince’s friendship. What are you here to find out?”
“But doesn’t Andrew care that you spend so much time with the Prince?”
“You are delving a little too deep into my marriage. That’s between Andrew and I. Is that what you came to find out? Were you hoping to find the Prince sat at my kitchen table, reading the paper?”
“I mean, that would be great, but no, I was hoping to find you in bed with him.”
She laughed. “That would be a better headline. ‘Prince reads newspaper’ doesn’t quite cut it.”
“I realised he wasn’t here when there was no security.”
“Oh, yes, your secondary job of security tester.”
“I hate to inform you that this place is lacking.”
“Is it now?”
“Any Tom, Dick or Harry could walk in off the street…”
“And help themselves to a cup of tea?”
“Quite so.”
“Well, what have you got?”
“Oh, you were serious! Well, obviously any juicy titbit would be great.”
“I can’t do that, I’m afraid.”
“What about this?” He opened his bag and rummaged in papers until he found what he wanted. “Who’s this woman? The Prince has been photographed with her on numerous occasions.”
Camilla peered at the picture. “Oh, she’s his aid. Works as a PA.”
“Very convenient. Who is she really?”
“That’s who she is. I can find you her name if you’d like?”
“Well why is he spending so much time in Scotland?”
“Perhaps he likes the fishing? You’d have to ask him.”
“Has he said when he’s coming back?”
“If you’re worrying about the tour, he will of course be completing that.
“Is he separated from the Princess?”
“Not to my knowledge. Now, you’ve finished your tea. Get out. If you come back, I will call the police and I will press charges.”
“Is he unhappy?”
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Thank you. Can I kiss you?”
“Certainly not.”
“So he is in Scotland and he is unhappy?”
“I never said that.” She smiled at him and he beamed in return. “Out!”
“I’ll call you!” He started scrabbling with his things and she ushered him out of the kitchen.
“Lucky me.”
“Darling I was terrified.”
“Yes… it sounds frightful.”
“This great big brutish man in my kitchen. I thought I was going to die.”
“Did you ring the police?”
“No… I thought I’d see what he wanted first…”
“So a terrifying stranger appears out of nowhere and you see what he wants as opposed to calling the police?”
“I didn’t want to provoke him.”
“No, no. I understand.”
He’d only come in the bathroom to ask her a question, but now he was very busy with a pumice stone, rubbing away the hard skin on her feet. Like many of his interactions with her, they slid into a daze of joy and he wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised to find himself sat next to the bath, leaning over to his elbows in warm soapy water grooming her in some way or another. He didn’t want her to have hard skin on her feet. He would never want her to be uncomfortable.
“What was he doing in the kitchen?”
“Making a cup of tea. He offered me a mug.”
“He what?”
“I know! In my own house too! I mean by this point I was almost shaking in terror.”
Charles chuckled, not believing most of what came out of her mouth.
“Quick as a flash, he pulled out his voice recorder and started asking questions.”
“Wait a minute. He was a reporter?”
“That one who’s made a name for himself skulking in bushes outside of houses.”
“Hold on. You don’t mean Stuart Higgins?!”
“Yes! That’s the one.”
“You described him as a great big brutish man?”
“Well..”
“Shall we strip a good 55% from this story to gain an idea of the reality?”
“He was!”
“Stuart Higgins is short, fat and greasy. So I take it he didn’t break and enter then?”
“I think he did.”
“Well you think he’s great big and brutish. I really do love you but you have a tendency to exaggerate which is…” he looked at her eyes, glaring at him, offended, “enduring… and completely charming, but dial it back so I can get your story.”
“I told him you were in Scotland and I also hinted that you weren’t happy.”
“Darling, I think all of the world’s press knows that.”
“They don’t know. They think they know. But they don’t. It might be good to have one paper telling your story.”
“You could have told me beforehand.”
“No I bloody couldn’t. What was I meant to do? ‘Sorry Stuart, I’ve just got to run this by the Prince of Wales, oh hello Darling, I’m sat with Stuart Higgins…’”
He laughed at her. “I suppose not…”
“You know he offered me a cup of tea? Like I was the one intruding upon him.”
“Yes Darling, you have mentioned…”
“Why don’t you just get in with me?”
“Because, Darling, if I do that, we’ll never go for dinner.”
“Dinner’s ages away. Get in with me.”
He knew better than to argue. She’d only end up pulling him in fully clothed or tempting him with other powers of persuasion, promises she may or may not fulfil. Slowly, he undressed, making her laugh as he folded his clothes neatly.
“The water’s getting cold.”
“Turn on the hot water then.”
He slipped in at the other side from her, feeling her feet on his thighs. They were lovely and soft now. He was pleased with them. There wasn’t really room for them both in here and he enjoyed the feeling of her legs against his whilst he laughed at her blowing the bubbles at him.
“We need some music on…”
“Candles…”
“They just remind me of the three day week.”
“They remind me of you. Coming to visit you in your new house. You were so sad that very first time I came.”
“Well we hadn’t seen each other…and the last time I’d seen you, we were together…and that hit me. And you…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“And me what?”
“You looked hollow. You were so desperately sad, trying to be happy for me. I’d not let myself doubt my choice until I saw you.”
“I didn’t know how to behave around you.”
“I know. You still don’t.”
He yanked her legs, making her shoot forwards, squealing, and caught her before her head dipped back into the water. Then he slid her onto his thighs, feeling her legs wrap around his back, raising his knees to trap her, running his hands up her back. Her nose was against his and she closed her eyes as his fingers traced a path across her back, up the back of her neck.
“We won’t get down for dinner now.” She giggled slightly until he bit down on her neck and suddenly the only sense left working was her skin’s sensitivity, which was on overdrive with the silky way his hands slipped across her back and the heat of his body against hers in the water.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
It wasn’t often she was left unable to take charge, in most aspects of their life, really. She used to use it as a barrier to protect herself, but those barriers had fallen some time ago and when he took control now, she relaxed, trusting him in a way she never really had before. The speed at which her body responded to him still astonished her. One second, they would be talking normally, the next they would be pulling at each other’s clothing, kisses so full of passion she felt like she was drowning. And when they hadn’t seen each other for any length of time, her body craved his so much that thinking about him even briefly sent an ache through her, strong enough to bring a flush to her cheeks. It was impossible to sate in the snatched time they had together, parties where they’d sneak off, desperate to be alone together, the rare night they spent together. Time like this was a blessing. Being able to relax and enjoy each other’s company, time to make love to each other. It was like living someone else’s life and she wanted it. For the first time, she pictured herself in his world, by his side, before reality battered her and she promised herself she’d never allow herself that daydream again. But dreams you can’t control and he crawled into hers regularly. In every formation. The worst weren’t even the dreadful ones with arguments or him coldly leaving her, not caring about her, although those made her cry into the pillow when she woke from them. No, the worst were the utopia she created where they were together in her own life and the dreams would play out like reality with him coming home to her and kissing her at the door, or him playing outside with the children whilst she cooked dinner or lying together watching television or sleeping next to him each night. Sometimes he would make love to her and then she’d wake up with a jolt, out of breath, and get hit by a sudden jarring of pain at the realisation it was a fantasy. This overwhelming love for him tormenting her nights. Filling her with guilt. Guilt at not being satisfied with what she had. Guilt at craving so hopelessly for something she knew she couldn’t have. And guilt at how she had fallen so deeply in love with him, she had doomed her marriage. Everything was a comparison, one that Andrew invariably fell short at. She couldn’t talk herself out of it. Her heart argued too strongly. It was only really her own dogged determination not to think about the future, to just try to live out each day as it came, that kept her sane.
“Darling, you’re miles away…”
She was. He was right. She shook her thoughts away and kissed his proffered lips with a slight moan. It was so good to kiss him.
“You’ve just sat, daydreaming. What about?”
“You.”
He smiled. “That’s my preoccupation, not yours. You tell me off for it and you’re doing it yourself!”
“I’m allowed a momentary lapse.”
“Do you need help dressing for dinner?”
“Bugger! I forgot about dinner!”
“That is unlike you.”
She looked at him, her eyes bemused, making him chuckle.
These few snatched days had been different from the offset. Having been invited to a friend’s house to use as a base for a few days, they’d settled in together despite him working. So they’d not had all those long days together walking, riding, fishing, painting. She’d been left with their friends throughout the day and she spent it like she was on holiday. He, on the other hand, was tired but happy to be with her in the evenings, finding his spirits raised immeasurably on the drive back to the house. The tiredness gave way to pleasure when she plodded down to greet him, skidding on the floor of the hall in her socks in her rush to wrap her arms around him and to kiss him. He’d catch her and kiss her and the world was rightened. Their conversation flew as she grilled him for every scrap of information about his day and when they had successfully picked that apart, he’d tease out hers. She was a little embarrassed at the contrast between his and hers but she had such a dry way of talking about it, he wanted to hear. And he loved that she was enjoying herself. There was always a funny story as she seemed to collect the humorous sides of all her interactions with different people, retelling them with a droll humour and a giggle that had him laughing from the centre of his stomach. If there was a light side to a situation, she would find it and she soothed that pessimistic streak in him with her view of the world and her perceptions of people. But if their natures were polar opposites, their interests and humour weren’t. It sometimes felt to him that she was what he was missing to be a whole person.
“Darling, as much you’ll hate me saying this, you need to stop.”
“I don’t want to…” He felt her respond to his touch and smiled.
“No, no, Darling. Food. We need food.” His kisses on her skin were so light they burnt.
“I just need you.”
“You’ve been working all day.” With some effort, she rolled out from under him, ignoring his hands grasping onto her. “You need feeding. Or you’ll feel miserable later.”
He made a last ditch attempt to disuade her but she slipped out of reach and hurried around the room to find clothes to change into.
“We’ve got five minutes.”
“It can go cold.”
“No. One, that’s rude. Two, you’ll not eat it then and you’ll get cranky with hunger. Get up and put some sodding clothes on.”
“Why? Do you find it difficult to resist me when I’m naked on the bed, ready for you?”
“Clothes.”
He moaned at her.
It was surprisingly easy to fit back in with their friends, even given his moaning all the way down the stairs and to the dining room. She looked stunning on his arm, her cheeks nicely flushed, her eyes so soft and bright looking at him. And she was in such a flirtatious mood, everyone flocked around her, enjoying the jibes and the laughter. He didn’t enjoy how tactile she was, those soft little taps and clasping of hands, or at least he hated it when she did it to anyone else-and she knew and did it deliberately. But otherwise, it was wonderful to laugh all evening, to catch her eye and giggle, to know that she was going to be there to talk to when he wanted to. He watched her, as the evening progressed, start to yawn and then she came, kissed him on the cheek and left to go to bed. He stood there, stock still, unsure. People didn’t just leave him to go to bed, not before their hosts had retired. And everyone stayed up with him. He stared after her, befuddled until a voice whispered in his ear, “That would be your cue to retire.” But he didn’t want to go upstairs. He was enjoying himself too much.
Following her a good five minutes later, to make a point, he left with some indiscreet smirking and sniggering behind him, which soured his mood further. Opening the door of their shared room roughly, he barged in with the beginnings of a temper.
“I didn’t want to go upstairs yet.”
“I know. That’s why I said goodnight.” She had taken off her dress and jewellery and was sat on the bed removing her stockings. “You didn’t need to follow me if you didn’t want to.”
His mind hovered between arguing with her and kneeling in front of her to help her. His temper chose the former. “You could have stayed down with me.”
“No, Charles, I’m tired.”
“You shouldn’t go to bed before I do.”
“I shouldn’t?” Her eyes flashed at him and she saw a flicker of doubt in his, indignant still and angry. “Unlike everybody else, I won’t treat you with cotton gloves so I don’t offend some ridiculous notion. I’m tired. I want to go to bed. Do you want me to ask your permission to do so?”
“I want you to stay up with me.” He answered, petulantly.
“Well I’m sorry, I’m tired.”
“I’m going to look ridiculous if I go back now on my own.”
She sighed. “Would you like me to get changed into something more comfortable and then come back with you and it just looks like I’ve gone to get changed?”
“No, You’re tired.”
“Well what do you want me to do?”
“I was enjoying myself.”
“That’s why I left you to it. I don’t know what you want me to say. Everything seems to be the wrong thing.”
“Everyone laughed at me when I went up.”
“Oh. Well they were going to. You made it look like I told you to follow me and you followed like a slave.”
“If you’d just stayed downstairs, none of it would have happened.”
“Charles… I love you but you’re being a dick. If I’m tired, you should allow me to go to bed without making me feel bad about it.”
“Don’t call me a dick, Camilla.”
“Stop acting like one then, Charles.” She glanced at the nightdress in her hand. “What do you want me to do, Your Highness? Snivel at your feet like a dog? Will that make you happy?” She threw the nightdress at him. “Fine. I’ll come down to the sodding room with you to watch you socialise, even though you know I don’t want to be there.” She stormed to her feet and started pulling clothes off hangers, dumping them on the floor when they weren’t right.
“Milla…”
She ignored him, angry now, pulling a jumper over her head and a skirt around her waist.
“Milla, please…”
“Please what? What do you want of me now, Sir? I’m at your service.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Are you?” She snapped around to glare at him. “What exactly are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t ask you to come back down. Please get ready for bed.” He tried to hand her the nightdress but she wouldn’t take it. “Please.”
“So you just came up to start an argument with me?”
“Don’t be mad with me. I don’t want to argue.”
“Yet here we are because that’s just not true. I haven’t done anything wrong, Charles. I just wanted to go to bed. I can’t stay awake all night multiple days in a row.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t want to stop you having fun. It’s really nice to see you enjoying life a little more. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you into doing something.”
“I just…”
“…Assumed my motives based on someone else’s behaviour?”
His remorse was real now and he wouldn’t look at her, his cheeks flushing with shame. She stared at him, feeling her anger dissolve into pity and exasperation.
“You need handholding over the smallest of things. I really hate her. You never used to be like this.” She took the nightdress out of his hands and threw it on the chair before placing her hands around his face, cooling his cheeks. “Are you okay, my love?”
He clasped his hands over hers. “Discussion over?”
“That was an argument, Darling.” She brought her nose to bump into his, making him look at her.
“Knives away?” All he wanted to do was kiss her. She was so close. He trailed his hands down her arms and down her sides, wrapping them around her back.
“All sheathed, Darling.” She kissed him softly and neither of them pulled away when the kiss ended.
“I’m sorry.” The words were breathed on her lips before she kissed them away.
Whispering, she replied, “It’s okay.”
Their kisses were snatched now, breath difficult as they both reached for comfort in each other.
“Now you can’t go downstairs.” She was pulling at his jacket, making it drop to the floor as he pulled at her jumper.
“I don’t want to.”
“Good.”
“You manipulate me through sex.”
“You’re a highly intelligent man but you’re still a man.”
“Yes. Please don’t stop. I’m very happy to be manipulated that way.”
She smiled at him, helping him remove her clothing, enjoying his hands running over body.
“I don’t understand why you want to have sex with me. I’ve just been awful to you.”
“It’s called making up. It’s an important part of a relationship.”
“Don’t be condescending.”
She raised her eyebrows at him and he stuttered, “Be as condescending as you like…” He felt her kiss against his lips and groaned at the contact. “You’re perfect.”
“I’m not. Not even close. But that’s okay. It’s okay to get things wrong.”
“You’re not wrong about anything to do with me.”
“I will be. You can’t put me on a pedestal. I’ll fall.”
“I don’t want to get anything wrong with you.”
“Getting something wrong doesn’t make you a failure. Just human.”
“Milla, please just kiss me.”
“No… getting something wrong doesn’t mean we’re broken or that we can’t be fixed…”
“I want to make up.”
“I choose when we make up. It’s okay to get things wrong.”
“It’s only okay if you then do something about it.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“You’re meant to alter your behaviour when you get something wrong. Otherwise, you’re repeating something hurtful without consideration towards the person you love.”
“Well alter your behaviour next time, then.”
“Can we have sex now?”
“If I want you to come with me, I’ll tell you. I’ll not just assume you know.”
“Milla…” He kissed her softly, grasping her to him with one hand, running his fingers around her body with the other, feeling her respond to him. “I’m telling you, I want you.”
They’d been arguing a lot recently, due to him. He was testing her, with everything, be it consciously or not. It was like he was looking for cracks so that he could sabotage them. Looking for reasons to get mad at her to see her reaction. Waiting for the the sky to fall down on him, encouraging it along. But she was stubborn and resolutely sure of herself and them. Each time he did something stupid, she’d search for the cause and called it out. She seemed to understand his behaviour much better than he did. And when she explained it to him, it felt like a relief. The knots of tight emotions he usually felt battered with were being slowly unpicked. Each time, he felt more and more grateful towards her and more and more guilty. She didn’t seem to take it personally and although he knew it upset her and sometimes angered her, she never blamed him. She just loved him through it. But it was a dreadful habit to get into and he hated himself for doing it.
The first few times he did it, he felt so guilty, he’d buy her something to apologise but then, after a particularly sour argument, she refused to take the gift. It was a pair of pink dragonfly brooches he knew she’d coverted (with no chance of ever buying) and he watched her face turn to stone. He’d never seen her so angry but in such a cold, controlled way. He wanted her to shout at him but she didn’t. Her hands shaking with the effort of maintaining her temper, and without taking it out on him, she’d told him to return them. He’d realised at that point, it wasn’t just anger but she wouldn’t let him comfort her. She wouldn’t let him talk to her, let alone touch her and he’d never felt fear like it. She sat down, her eyes cast down into her lap and he’d sat next to her, careful not to intrude her personal space. It felt an eternity before she spoke to him. An eternity filled with dread which seeped out in quiet tears.
“I can’t do this for you.”
He felt his heart seize up in panic.
“It’s too much. You’ve got to do it for yourself, Charles. Please, please try.”
Try at what? He didn’t dare to speak.
“You’ve got to want to get better.”
Now he was really confused.
“It’s just a cycle of pain and anger and sorrow and guilt. And then you look for a new reason to be angry to alleviate the pain. There’s no resolution. I can’t give you that, Darling. You’ve got to find it for yourself.”
Now, he understood what she was talking about but, at the time, his defensive strategies were running so high he just got angry with her again. So angry she left in tears and he wanted to throw himself off the balcony for hurting her.
But that was the point things changed and now he was so grateful for her for telling him what he needed to hear rather than cushioning him through. Because after that awful afternoon, he asked for help, for the first time. She didn’t see him for a little while and instead helped him to plan what he was going to do about it, on the telephone, in writing when it got too difficult. He didn’t realise how much he needed to talk. How much pain there was inside him. And she listened. It was a few weeks later that she tentatively suggested he talk to someone else and he cut her short, refusing to speak to her for days before he realised the sense of her suggestion.
Now, the arguments were smaller although he knew she was at the end of her tether with him sometimes. And through each, he began to realise that her love for him was constant. There was no edging around her on tiptoes, waiting for a wrong move when she would reject him. There was no need for huge gestures in order to win her affection. She was like the sunrise in the morning, anticipated, dependable, warm. And like the ancients, he worshipped her for it. Seen as she refused gifts in apology, he had to make amends in a different way, in every way. He agreed to move back at for the autumn, to base himself at Highgrove like she wanted. He spent hours with her designing a new extension to her garden, and more hours still doing the heavy work for her, with and without her company. He ran every plan through her first, rescheduling his life around when he could see her. Finding out every detail of what was going on in her life, asking her about it. And smaller things, like always making sure to wave at her across a room, making sure she knew she had his full attention every time she spoke to him. The trouble was, all this, which started as a need to amend, transgressed into the things he most liked to do, the things he got the most pleasure from. He adored her. It was as simple as that.
It wasn’t quite as easy for her as she tried to lead him to believe. The arguments she could deal with. She knew they weren’t really about her, even if she lost her rag with him. It was the guilt that hurt her. The desperate look of fear and sorrow in his eyes that knifed into her heart and made her want to weep. She just wanted to love him but she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell him that everything was okay when it wasn’t. And she couldn’t be his punching bag even if she wanted to be because that didn’t help either of them. So it was up to her to have those difficult conversations with him, helping him to realise he needed to get help, supporting him through afterwards when he’d phone her in a state of anxiety. Helping him unpick his emotions. He didn’t have anybody else. That’s what hurt her the most. Not a single member of his family supported him. Not to the degree he needed. It was all criticism and scorn. Not a single friend told him what he needed to know, just allowed him to spiral downwards, worried, yet inactive. He was so lonely. Surrounded in world full of people but no love. Not for the first time, she felt awash with gratefulness towards her own family and the close friends who helped her through.
She noticed a change in him gradually, as the months went by. She respected how brave he was being to confront some of his problems and a fierce pride in him grew in her heart, quite unlike anything she had felt before. She saw the toll his work placed on him whilst his brain was busy repairing the damage and listened to his speeches with almost a maternal edge as he painstakingly pulled himself back to life. But she wasn’t immune to him. She had never been adored, her needs considered, her opinions sought and valued, her interests and thoughts treasured before. Every single thing about her, he loved. It was intoxicating. She’d never felt so loved and so desired. And the need for each other intensified by the summer to such a degree, they had to sneak off to find each other, no matter how little time they had. She’d take the dogs for a walk and he’d ride out to find her, just to kiss her or he’d drive them somewhere private during a party, returning later and later each time they snuck off. Each night they spent together a relief from the longing and a hit until the next night. Every departure from each other a wrench which tore into her a little more.
#duchess camilla#charles and camilla fiction#charles and camilla#camilla duchess of cornwall#camilla#duchess camilla fanfiction#prince charles and duchess camilla#duchess of cornwall#prince charles fiction#prince of wales#prince charles#charles and camilla fanfic#camilla fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#love story#royal fanfiction#royal family#royalty#short story#duchess of cornwall fiction#charles and camilla fanfiction#prince charles and camilla#mental health
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basically. every family portrait in the 80s
#eric what happened to your perm 😡#eric stewart#stuart tosh#rick fenn#graham gouldman#paul burgess#duncan mackay#10cc
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Actually, Reds In My Bed is my favourite song from Bloody Tourists ✌️ I don't know much about the new 1978 10cc lineup, but Stuart Tosh killed it on this song 🤟🤟
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The Alan Parsons Project
I Robot
1977 Arista
—————————————————
Tracks:
01. I Robot
02. I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You
03. Some Other Time
04. Breakdown
05. Don’t Let It Show
06. The Voice
07. Nucleus
08. Day after Day (the Show Must Go On)
09. Total Eclipse
10. Genesis Ch.1 V.32
—————————————————
Ian Bairnson
Allan Clarke
B.J. Cole
Stuart Elliott
Steve Harley
Jack Harris
John Leach
Duncan MacKay
Alan Parsons
David Paton
Stuart Tosh
Dave Townsend
Eric Woolfson
Lenny Zakatek
* Long Live Rock Archive
#Alan Parsons Project#Alan Parsons#Eric Woolfson#Ian Bairnson#Allan Clarke#BJ Cole#Stuart Elliott#Steve Harley#Jack Harris#John Leach#Duncan MacKay#David Paton#Stuart Tosh#Dave Townsend#Lenny Zakatek#I Robot#LP#Art#1977
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On December 1st 1989 Billy Lyall passed away.
Hailing from Edinburgh’s Tollcross area, Lyall was an early member of the Bay City Rollers but left before they hit the big time to form his own group with another former Roller, David Paton, Stuart Tosh joined them as drummer.
The band recorded several demos during 1972 and 1974. They were signed to a management contract with Nick Heath and Tim Heath, sons of British bandleader Ted Heath, and John Cavanagh. In due course they signed to a worldwide recording deal with EMI Records. After the recording of their debut album, From the Album of the Same Name, guitarist Ian Bairnson (who had played on the album as a session musician) joined the band permanently.Their first the first hit single for the group was Magic, written by Lyall and Paton in 74, reaching number 11 here, and was number one in Canada and got to number 5 in the US Billboard Hot 100. Paton says he got the inspiration for the song when waking up at 6 am and watching the sun rising from his home on Edinburgh’s Blackford Hills.
Pilot’s biggest hit on this side of the Atlantic was January, reaching number one on 1 February 1975, staying there for three weeks, and was at the top of the Australian charts for eight weeks. The song was also the first one played on Edinburgh’s first independent radio station, Radio Forth, by then DJ Steve Hamilton, who remembers him then?
Pilot drifted apart the various members all seen success in other projects, Lyall most notably was the keyboard player for the pop group Dollar between 1978 and 1982.
Billy Lyall died of AIDS-related causes in 1989, aged 36. Bay City Rollers’ manager the odious Tam Paton later said that Lyall was gay. It’s sad to think of all those lost to AIDS and world back then that didn’t care, most due their because of their attitudes to the gay community.
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The Alan Parsons Project - Breakdown
#the alan parsons project#breakdown#i robot#david paton#stuart tosh#ian bairnson#eric woolfson#alan parsons#duncan mackay#bj cole#gohn leach#lenny zakatek#allan clarke#steve harley#jack harris#peter straker#hilary western#smokey parsons#progressive rock#art rock#music#music is love#music is life#music is religon#raining music#70s#70s music
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Top 15 Favorite Female TV Characters (in no particular order)
1. Phryne Fisher (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries)
2. Beth Pearson (This Is Us)
3. Val Dyer (Call the Midwife)
4. Julia Ogden (Murdoch Mysteries)
5. Deja Pearson (This Is Us)
6. Rebecca Pearson (This Is Us)
7. Vera (Vera)
8. Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)
9. Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)
10. Joan Thursday (Endeavor)
11. Anne Shirley Cuthbert (Anne with an E)
12. Tosh (Shetland)
13. Cassie Stuart (Unforgotten)
14. Bunty (Father Brown)
15. Lucille (Call the Midwife)
Boredom... I've probably forgotten someone and some show.
#favorites#tv shows#female characters#miss fisher's murder mysteries#this is us#murdoch mysteries#unforgotten#call the midwife#endeavor#anne with an e#shetland#vera#gilmore girls#father brown
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EastEnders Iconic Episodes:- Walford Pride
Tuesday 14th July 2020
Hello everyone! After a wonderful week away with my partner, I am now back and posting! I realise it's been a while and I'm aware I've missed a few episodes, I'm looking forward to jumping into them as soon as I can. But firstly, I have managed to catch up on last week's iconic episode, the most recent iconic moment so far ... Walford Pride! I remember watching this episode and thinking "Wow" to all the rainbow colours! I am not a homosexual, but I fully support Gay-Rights! I believe in gender equality and I believe it doesn't matter what the gender is, love is love! This brilliant episode was aired just last year on 5th July 2019!
If I remember rightly, this episode focused on multiple people ... Bernadette, Callum, Ben ... Callum still reeling and coming to terms with his sexuality, and still deeply hiding the fact that he's gay from his fiance' Whitney!
Bernadette knows she's gay, during her time on the square she befriended Tiffany and after a while, it became clear that she was developing feelings towards her friend. Unfortunately Tiffany didn't feel the same, as much as she wanted to be close to her friend, he feelings never escalated that far. I remember their fall out was a pretty bad one, Tiffany pretended to be someone else online to get Bernie to think someone was interested in her, even though I think Tiffany's heart was in the right place, to prove to her friend that she could meet someone, it kinda backfired. Bernie was hurt once she realised it was all a lie and she felt Tiffany had made a fool of her. Tiffany realised her mistake and knows it's Bernadette's first Pride and she wants to make it up to her friend and make it special for her. I love how much Karen is supporting her daughter and getting everyone involved, her whole family has been brought around her, wearing feather boa's and rainbow themed clothes and painted rainbows on their faces! It's cute how overwhelmed she was with the whole experience. I love the scene between Bernie and Tina, it's like Tina is kinda helping Bernie feel comfortable. Tina can relate as she says "My first Pride, I just kept staring!" She can understand how Bernie must be feeling ... weird, uncomfortable, nervous. It's nice for Bernie to have a friend there and help her realise it's okay to be feeling these emotions, but she has even more reason to celebrate with everyone else.
It's amazing how far Ben and Callum have come, looking back on this episode, you can see how hard it was for Callum to try and ignore Ben. When you look at Callum now, he's a hell of lot happier now he's accepted who he is and he's now dating Ben. After their first encounter together, Ben made it difficult to Callum to forget what had happened between them, he was there at his every move constantly reminding him. I feel sad watching this a bit as this was sad time for Callum, having to deny who he was and living a lie. All the Pride celebrations were just going to make it 10 times harder! Even Stuart questioned him whether there was something he wanted to say to him, after seeing him helping out at The Prince Albert. Stuart knows that his brother is hiding something, it's only when Callum goes to leave and he notices a gay couple walk into the restaurant and looks at them longingly, wishing he could be happy like that, Stuart clicks and Callum can no longer hide. He tells his brother that he and Ben are not "Just mates" and something has happened between them, even though he pushes the belief that he loves Whitney and wants to be with her, it's horrible to Callum lying to himself, I am just so relieved he's in a much happier place now. In this episode, Ben is flaunting himself over every man he sees and Callum is just deeply trying to ignore it all, even though his eyes are drawn to Callum over and over again.
Can I just also say how amazing Tina is in this episode? She is completely in her element, she absolutely glows in this episode. I don't think Tina gets enough credit, she is part of one of the most epic families on the Square, and I feel like she kinda gets forgotten about, or maybe pushed to the side-lines a little bit? Has she really had a big story-line since arriving on the Square? I mean there was one where her girlfriend Tosh appeared on the square, that didn't last very long ... and then there was the story with Stan and Sylvie, then her brief story with Stuart and how he turned out to be the one who bullied her as a child. I feel it would be lovely for Tina to have a big story-line, whether it's something to do with her family or whether she meets someone and begins a romantic relationship with someone. Do you guys agree? Do you think Tina should be getting more screen time and a bigger and better story-line of her own? Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
What an amazing atmosphere it must have been filming this episode. The music was fantastic, the colours, the people! I, for one, would've loved to have even been an extra in this episode! I feel it must've been incredibly fun! I love the ending song "Proud" by Heather Small, I believe it's huge anthem for the gay community, that song made the episode for me. Bernie embracing everything and enjoying her time with her family and friends in the Square taking part in the parade. Yet, on the more devastating side, reflects the agony that Callum is feeling. Ben getting attacked by Stuart and being threatened to stay away, while Callum and Whitney are dancing in the street, Whitney is looking incredibly happy, while Callum is really choking back tears. It was so so powerful to watch! It's lovely and yet heartbreaking at the same time, for different characters. I remember watching it being so overwhelmed by it all. Am I right in thinking that this was the first Gay Pride event in a soap? I possibly could be wrong, but I am thrilled that the writers put this together, it is iconic and deserves to be in the list of EastEnders Iconic Episodes!
I'll be back tomorrow following tonight's iconic episode! I again, apologise for this post being so late. I'm now home and I'm looking forward to getting back into posting more post about EastEnders! I'm looking forward to finding out what more iconic episodes are going to be shown! I hope you all have had a brilliant week and are enjoying your EastEnders fix! Enjoy the rest of your week and look after yourself! Love to you all! xXx
#eastenders#gaypride#pride#callumhighway#benmitchell#tinacarter#bernadettetaylor#bernie#bernietaylor#karentaylor#iconic#classic#soapfan#stuarthighway
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