By NAEEM ALVI

By NAEEM ALVI

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”Hi Eric”, I blurted out as I extended my limp, rattling hand forward for an unexpected hand shake.
”That was amazing”, I shrieked before my heart jumped into my throat.
I’ve never been starstruck before. It’s a bit weird….
About three years ago, on a typical evening at university, me and my house mate’s found ourselves typically slouched on the sofa, lost in the blare and glare of one of our most exploited study aids, the television. Despite our best efforts to join our spines in holy matrimony with the mountains of scientifically unidentifiable lint tucked under the age-old cushions, the programme on said television was just about keeping us safe from drowning in the abyss.
Jools Holland has introduced me to a wealth of new music over the years; some ear-splittingly nauseating, some wonderfully thought-provoking and on rare occasions, some downright goose bump inducing. Hearing Eric Bibb for the first time, I realised tonight’s offering was fortunately the latter.
I have always had an affection for gospel roots music. Born, I think, from those seemingly endless family car journeys as a restless toddler, fighting back waves of nausea as Dad performed yet another gut-wrenching gear change on the M4. Despite such unique driving technique, there were occasions when we weren’t all head deep in a carrier bag, and in those rare precious moments the stomach screams were usually replaced with the sounds of Stevie Wonder, Sam Cooke, and if mum was with us, Rod Stewart.
So Last Friday, after three years of listening to Eric Bibb nearly every day, me and my younger brother were understandably excited to finally see our musical hero perform live at the Southbank centre. At first, our guard was a little thrown off when we realised we were about 20 years younger than most of the 500-strong audience. Regardless of such hilarious faux-pas, the gig was by far the best live performance I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. (Even better than the impromptu backpacker amateur sex show I saw in Cairns, Australia earlier this year. But I’ll probably save that for another time… or website.)
I’m not a religious person and never have been, but there is something about gospel music which does seem a little magical. After 20 minutes of finger picking, boot-stomping merriment, there was definitely a profound sense of joy in the air. Even the weirdly sweaty bloke next to me was proudly clapping to the beat and humming along. In fact, by the end of the gig, most of the middle-class British audience were rocking in their chairs and singing full volume.
*On a sidenote, watching people dance while sitting down is a brilliant British theatre convention which I think should be broadcast for humour purposes in every country around the world.
As the gig ended, I started to understand why so many people attend gospel churches. Even without a belief in a higher power, the feeling of overwheliming positivity is enough to keep you smiling for at least a week. I also realised, every sentence which came out of Eric Bibb’s mouth that night was cooler than anything I could ever say. I mean like Morgan Freeman or David Attenbrough cool.
In such fashion, he ended the show with: ‘
‘We like to press the flesh a little after these kind of things. So If you’ve got time we’d love to meet you all outside.”
Brilliant. Hundreds of positivity fuelled fans queueing to meet a man who is often referred to as the modern king of his genre.
Reaching the front of the queue, I confidently stepped forward. Smug in the knowledge I had cleverly prepared a really powerful opening sentence. Shockingly however, before I even opened my mouth, my heart rate went mental and the resulting sense of schoolgirl giddiness turned me into a creepy looking grinner.
”Hi Eric”, I blurted out. (because we are obviously on first name terms)
Eric Bibb: ”Hi brother, what’s your name?”
Me: ”That was amazing” (mumbled)
Eric Bibb: ”What, how’s that spelt man? Come closer.”
Me: ”Oh, my name is Naeem.”
Eric Bibb: ”What?”
Me: ”It’s spelt N-A-E-E-M”
Eric Bibb: ”Right on man, nice meetin’ you.”
Me. ”Nice to meet you. Bye.”
I think it’s safe to say I definitely made a lasting impression.
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Filed under Avalanche Awareness, journalism, NZMSC, queenstown, Snow Season, snowboarding
A short Story:
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“After months of negotiation, list-making and packing, the day finally came when the first part of my journey was to begin. That winter morning I kissed my family goodbye, closed the door on the warm house and walked away under a sky the colour of dull lead. Slowly, I felt the weight of the city begin to lift” (P10, The Snow Tourist, C. English, 2008)
A search for the world’s purest, deepest snowfall reads the description on the front cover. I spontaneously picked up this book while looking for a different travel book in the local book sellers. In hindsight, having just spent the last few days thoroughly engrossed, I’m happy the other book wasn’t available.
At its most descriptive level, The Snow Tourist is a record of one man’s experiences as he attempts to find the best snow in the world. However, after reading the first few pages it becomes clear that this is a more than just a simple record of events. Filled with the history and science of snowfall, English uses snow-related art and poetry to expand certain points and feelings, and ultimately expresses his almost childlike passion for snow, the world over. By combining the incredible events he experiences on his quest, with the culture and history that surrounds snow, it is hard not to find yourself yearning to pack a bag and enjoy snow for all it is worth. Fortunately in 10 days time, I am.
What I feel I enjoyed most about this rare gem was the discovery that my personal affinity for snow is something that is clearly shared with countless others. On a physical level, Snow is just the end product of combining cold with water. In reality, of course, it is so much more. For the Inuit it is a means of survival, for the winter sports enthusiast it is the substance that forms an adrenaline-filled winter playground. While it may at some times be a hindrance to certain areas of the world, it is a hindrance that the world should put up with. If all the speculation surrounding global warming is proved to be correct, it seems snowfall is a dying luxury. Let’s all enjoy it while we can. As English so succintly describes it:
“Beauty fades, people die, civilisations rise and fall. Our lives, like those of snow crystals, are transient moments within a succession of other transiences. We resemble those crystals in another way, too. Like them, we are made mostly of water. When we die, the water in us will find its way to the sea, where in time it will be lifted up by the sun, to fall again as snow.” (P58, The Snow Tourist)
This really is an enchanting read. English’s easy narrative style and his clear fascination for snow, be it fearful or loving, creates a travelogue full of wonder and intrigue. His clearly heavy level of research, driven by passion, helps to give the book an informative tone throughout. A thought provoking tale of one man’s quest to explore snow becomes overshadowed by a struggle to truly understand the forces that drive him. If you enjoy snow you will enjoy this book.
The Snow Tourist
By Charlie English
(Portobello Books. £8.99)
Filed under Literature, Snow Season, snowboarding, Uncategorized