Yep, that slide really says ‘Better Blogger Workflow’…

So… the conference. I went to Chicago for a conference, not just to go to jazz gigs, wander around and look at public art, travel on the local rail (it’s called the ‘L’ train because it’s short for ‘Elevated’ - who knew?), drink in bars and buy records.

From an outsider’s perspective, this was about as geeky as it’s possible to get. A room full of bloggers, discussing blogging, all of them with their laptops open, all of them learning how to blog in such a way that they don’t have to do anything else in order to make a living. Just blog.

Yes - this was Biz School for Bloggers.

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Rail transport. It makes a city work.

If I have one regret about the cities I’ve chosen to live in thus far, it would be that I’ve failed to pick places that have decent inner city rail transportation. I’m talking about trains that go from where people live to where they want to go.

Auckland, in this respect, is an outright disaster. There are houses, and apartments. And there are city attractions and outlying areas of interest. And awaaaay off to one side is a train that visits neither.

Birmingham, while miles better, is a complete failure when held up against cities with tube systems, light rail, or - in this instance - the Elevated Train. There are three main stations in the city centre that don’t connect up, and two of the most interesting parts of town that I regularly visit have railway stations that will remain closed until the year 2518 or something.

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Quiet suburban house — or 10,000 volt deathtrap?

We’ve had problems with the electricity since we first moved into this place a couple of months back. First, a couple of the lights didn’t work, and so we changed the bulbs - and those new ones immediately popped as soon as we turned on the switch.

Then the washing machine blew up, and the landlord had to replace it. The repairman who’d been called in to make the diagnosis pointed to the fact that the wiring was dodgy. There was no earth and no fuse in the plug that connected the machine to the multi-point extension lead that was sitting in the puddle behind the dishwasher.

And when we finally figured out why the dishwasher wasn’t working (it wasn’t plugged in), we were overjoyed to start using it, but less pleased when we kept getting electric shocks putting metal pot lids in the rack. So we finally convinced the landlord to call an electrician.

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In Chicago, all Hammond players are blind

Of course, buying jazz records is not enough. In Chicago, you have to go and see live music. Traditionally, it’s blues, though jazz is acceptable for the first time visitor. Especially when you’re me.

We had a flick through the local gig listings and ended up with a spot called the Green Mill, which had a vocal trio on that night. The singer was good - Kimberley Gordon was her name - and the guitarist (whose name escapes me) was more than competent - very Jim Hall, if you know what I mean (and if you don’t - it’s not important) - but the organist on the Hammond B3 was just amazing. His name is Chris Foreman.

I’ve only seen a Hammond in a jazz band live once or twice, but I’ve heard it a lot on record and I’m a really big fan. But to witness an absolute master was a real treat. A couple of beers, a good sound system and some incredible musicianship all make for a good night out.

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