Delta Del On Living The Blues

Delta Del living the blues, yesterday

Greetings, people of the Foam, Delta Del here with another informative piece on matters blues-related.  Perhaps some of you have been wondering how does an English bluesman, or more specifically an internationally known imaginary Free Blues guru-tarist from England, spend his days?  Well, here’s a little number about exactly that, and it goes somethin' like this …

I woke up this mornin, and for breakfast I had a ham hock in my cornflakes as part of my soul-diet.  This special diet was prescribed by my rocknroll doctor after I suffered recurring bouts of pubrockitis, an unpleasant condition endemic in the alehouses of Olde England.  Symptoms include complete loss of groove, an irresistible compulsion to play Roadhouse Blues, again, badly, and a sudden inexplicable fondness for the songs of Eric Clapton, including in the most extreme cases, Wonderful Tonight.  Treatment via soul-diet is usually very effective, but severe cases may require prolonged isolation in a sensory deprivation zone, such as a Travelodge, while a looping mix of James Brown squeals, shrieks and grunts is piped continuously into their room.

After my soul-diet breakfast I embark on a rigorous front porch workout.  It’s 30 minutes intense action on the rocking chair, which is connected to the internet for motivational encouragement.  Apparently yesterday I was “Smashing it!” and indeed a small fragment of rocking chair splinter did embed itself in my behind.  Which was fine as it counted towards my daily quota of bad luck n troubles.  

For lunch it’s usually a red beans and rice based dish.  I habitually substitute white toast for the rice element, and I favour Heinz baked beans as they are a deeper shade of red than rival brands.  I wash em down with hard liqueur, Baileys Irish Cream that’s been in the freezer.  After lunch I often pop down to the amusement arcade for some reckless gamblin, and try my luck on the penny-pile-shoving machine.  I always emerge at least 10p poorer, and as I try my luck there every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, my status as a 3-time loser is rarely threatened.   And what of the ladies?  The bluesman’s number one preoccupation and lyrical inspiration, surely a main squeezy mama must feature prominently in Delta Del’s life?  You would think so, but my woman done left me cryin' again.  I pay extra for that of course, but it’s worth it.

Relaxing at home in the evenings with my pet rattlesnake Elmore and his soon-to-be-supper companions, Pixie and Dixie, I immerse myself in the music of the blues greats who inspired me to become what I am today. And, although my eyesight is fading now as I approach my 93rd birthday, I still enjoy using the Swiss Army groover, handed down to me by my grandfather Delta Dick, as I set about my gaily coloured plastic bag [huh? - Ed.].  

And thence to bed.  I draw the line at layin' my worried head on the cold hard ground of course, as I have discovered that even the smoothest, flattest rocks simply will not make anything remotely resembling a pillow.  And so at last to sleep, perchance to dream again of the endless A303, unwinding before me as I motor West in my Morris Minor soft-top, with the blooze spinning wild ’n loud on the in-car Victrola.

And that, people of the Foam, was a day in the life of an English bluesman. Cheerio!

Delta Del's luxury yacht The Whipping Post, currently plying the inland waterways of the United Kingdoms, England, is available for hire - corporate motivational courses, product launches, a speciality! Kosher menu on request!