Throw Your Arms Around Me---Eddie Vedder And Mark Seymour Part One
Without Prejudice
The men and their music, Mark Seymour, the writer of Throw Your Arms Around Me, and Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder.
Music heals sorrow, washes the dust from your soul and gives you hope.
Eddie Vedder states in the clip he has been playing Throw Your Arms Around Me for ever and on that day he meets the writer for the first time. Mark Seymour, formerly from The Hunters And Collectors.
Both men excellent in their chosen profession.
Simple guitar chords, perfect harmony.
Eddie Vedder has one of " those voices " , instantly recognisable even if your eyes are closed. So does Mark Seymour. When I first fell in love with Hunters And Collectors one of my girls thought they were " depressing ". And that I shouldn't like them. But it was too late, I was in lust, love, enamoured. It was the mid nineties and times seemed so much simpler then.
I lived in Glen Waverley and shared a house with my good friend, Frank and my foster daughter. Frank was in love with an Israeli married woman and while he ironed on Sunday's he played what we called " dreary love music", mostly Irish. The Fureys, Cranberries, The Chieftains. We grew to like it after a while, but often dragged Frank out when he grew too morose at not seeing his girlfriend.
Frank loved, Betty, grog ( red wine by the cask ) and love songs. We often found him passed out on the family room floor with his headphones on and we could only imagine how loud the music was in his head when we could hear it coming through his headphones.
He would then leap up like the impish little Andrew Denton look alike he was and shout out,
" Coffee ? "
He was always in a happy mood and my foster daughter and I were not. We often plotted his demise while sitting at the bench sipping on his excellent coffee. He would humour us grumpy heads until we weakened and began to smile. Frank was an excellent male friend, loved gossip and intrigue and " stirring ".
We were his adoring acolytes as he took us out to Greek Restaurants on his business expense cards and was more than generous. He would drive us home, drunk as a Lord, ( so we're we) and he never ever was pulled over by the cops. Except once, when I deferred an outing as I was not really a drinker and he was done for D.U.I. Lost his licence and he was a Sales Rep.
He decided he wouldn't tell the Boss, and later that year the Boss did a licence check on the staff. Frank delayed as long as he could then had to admit he was unlicensed due to grog and he wasn't the only one discovered to be unlicensed for the same thing. The Bosses pet ( according to Frank ) also was unlicensed for alcohol offences.
Frank was going through a tough divorce and he tried not to be bothered by it but he felt it for his children, a young boy and girl. He was heartbroken at the effect it was having on them. He didn't feel it for his ex wife, the wily, Ro, as he was only with her for the kids. He knew she would make an excellent Mum for his kids.
But when he found himself ringing an Escort Agency one night from his lounge room while his wife was asleep in another room he knew he had to do the right thing and leave her. When the escort agency asked him where his wife was he said in the next room and they hung up on him. He seemed shocked for ever after at that fact.
Dear Frank !
The men and their music, Mark Seymour, the writer of Throw Your Arms Around Me, and Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder.
Music heals sorrow, washes the dust from your soul and gives you hope.
Eddie Vedder states in the clip he has been playing Throw Your Arms Around Me for ever and on that day he meets the writer for the first time. Mark Seymour, formerly from The Hunters And Collectors.
Both men excellent in their chosen profession.
Simple guitar chords, perfect harmony.
Eddie Vedder has one of " those voices " , instantly recognisable even if your eyes are closed. So does Mark Seymour. When I first fell in love with Hunters And Collectors one of my girls thought they were " depressing ". And that I shouldn't like them. But it was too late, I was in lust, love, enamoured. It was the mid nineties and times seemed so much simpler then.
I lived in Glen Waverley and shared a house with my good friend, Frank and my foster daughter. Frank was in love with an Israeli married woman and while he ironed on Sunday's he played what we called " dreary love music", mostly Irish. The Fureys, Cranberries, The Chieftains. We grew to like it after a while, but often dragged Frank out when he grew too morose at not seeing his girlfriend.
Frank loved, Betty, grog ( red wine by the cask ) and love songs. We often found him passed out on the family room floor with his headphones on and we could only imagine how loud the music was in his head when we could hear it coming through his headphones.
He would then leap up like the impish little Andrew Denton look alike he was and shout out,
" Coffee ? "
He was always in a happy mood and my foster daughter and I were not. We often plotted his demise while sitting at the bench sipping on his excellent coffee. He would humour us grumpy heads until we weakened and began to smile. Frank was an excellent male friend, loved gossip and intrigue and " stirring ".
We were his adoring acolytes as he took us out to Greek Restaurants on his business expense cards and was more than generous. He would drive us home, drunk as a Lord, ( so we're we) and he never ever was pulled over by the cops. Except once, when I deferred an outing as I was not really a drinker and he was done for D.U.I. Lost his licence and he was a Sales Rep.
He decided he wouldn't tell the Boss, and later that year the Boss did a licence check on the staff. Frank delayed as long as he could then had to admit he was unlicensed due to grog and he wasn't the only one discovered to be unlicensed for the same thing. The Bosses pet ( according to Frank ) also was unlicensed for alcohol offences.
Frank was going through a tough divorce and he tried not to be bothered by it but he felt it for his children, a young boy and girl. He was heartbroken at the effect it was having on them. He didn't feel it for his ex wife, the wily, Ro, as he was only with her for the kids. He knew she would make an excellent Mum for his kids.
But when he found himself ringing an Escort Agency one night from his lounge room while his wife was asleep in another room he knew he had to do the right thing and leave her. When the escort agency asked him where his wife was he said in the next room and they hung up on him. He seemed shocked for ever after at that fact.
Dear Frank !
