Last New Year's Eve I spent the evening sitting next to a woman who was carefully operating a breast pump.
Thought that might get your attention.
It was quite a novel way to see in the new year, I'll give you that. With her free hand, the pumper (or should that be pumpee?) showed me her phone, on which she had been reading the very blog that you see before you. Apparently, Make Lard History had helped her through many a sleepless night of baby feeds.
I don't know about you, dear reader, but when having a conversation in such circumstances it's difficult to know where to look, even though she was being incredibly discrete. (I was brought up in a cul-de-sac, for God's sake. I was 17 before I saw another human nipple.) And so I let my gaze drift to the other end of the room, where it was caught by some records. Not CDs, but records. Honest, 12 inch, vinyl records, and quite a lot of them. The whole wall, from floor to ceiling, was taken with the record collection of Beck, the aforementioned pumpee (or pumper) and Matt, her then-fiance.
Beck is a professional singing teacher and Matt is the Most Laid Back Man in the Western Hemisphere. They are parents to Ben, who will, if I'm any judge, surely achieve world domination within the next 20 years or so.
On that night and subsequent visits I've had my musical tastes gently expanded by their library of shiny black goodness. Artists and bands I'd heard of, like Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and Boards of Canada have received an airing. Then there have been some that even with my fairly eclectic tastes were new to me; such names as Joan as Policewoman, Okkervil River and Shearwater getting a very welcome spin.
By the way, if you have a moment, do yourselves a favour and find Rooks, by Shearwater. It's tremendous.
It was Beck and Matt's wedding yesterday and a relaxed, musical thread ran through the whole event. Let me paint you a picture.
This was the groom's choice of footwear. And, after the formal ceremony and pictures, the bride joined him and slipped into a pair of Converse Allstars under her dress. All the better for throwing some shapes to the Black Keys later on.
Beck was serenaded into the wedding venue by a choir made up of her students. Wedding march? Nope. Trumpet Voluntary? Not here. It was an arrangement of Alanis Morissette's Head Over Feet. Which is a pretty good state to be in, all things considered.
And yes, the toast drinks were mojitos. It was that kind of event.
Later on that evening, after we'd had an afternoon including the playing of KerPlunk, the bride and groom took to the dancefloor to their chosen first dance song. And it was this. (Caution, this may be NSFW for some of you out there).
I think if you're going to have a wedding, it's only right to have one that speaks volumes about the bride and groom. Congratulations, both.