72Perth, Australia
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My self-summary
Still running around being approximately musical. I must slow down this hectic pace - I'm an OLD MAN, dammit. Worrying about whether my tiny fernery and hanging garden will become neglected in my absence overseas - Okay, I know this is looking more like a journal entry...
How's this? Married BWM (would like to drive one, too, but can't afford it); father of 4, grandfather of 4 (astonishing how time passes and the natural life-cycle of the naked ape catches up on you); erstwhile academic; keen globe-trotter (but worrying about all those air-miles and what they cost the planet); Enough already? Did I mention Dataverarbeitung in Musikwissenschaft?

I am incredibly, busy, and time-poor
November 2011 update:
Now grandfather of 6! Even more time-poor!!! Renovating... anyone who has done this knows what it means.
What I’m doing with my life
See the above. OKC assumes that everyone can distinguish what they ARE (self-summery, wintry and springly) from what they DO. The overlap confuses small brains like mine.
I’m really good at
Ironing, of course. And being annoyingly supercilious - even silly-ous... Comme ca. (What about automatic cedilla addition OKC??)
However, I'm a pretty good cook - with or without recipe, and I revere both classic French cuisine with all its eggs, cream etc - as well as the nouvelle variety. I think my cooking soul was born centuries ago on the shores of the Mediterranean.

CLEANING AND CHUCKING HOARDED STUFF OUT (after several dusty years of saving "in case I can use it later...)
The first things people usually notice about me
My touch. I have ridiculously warm hands. This is good, as I'm a massage therapist some of the time. It's the piano playing and carpentry, you know. Strength, sensitivity and warmth: These are all good things for hands that massage - and that tickle ivories (plastics, actually; "ivories" must have become an archaic epithet for the piano by now, surely?...)

My irrepressible chattiness. It's the Welsh, you know; never could stop a Welshman singing, bragging and playing rugby. Being only half-Welsh, I sing, hardly brag at all (haven't you noticed?) and NEVER play rugby.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Reading? fairly omnivorous - but I draw the line at Mills and Boon.
Too damned busy a ce moment to read more than e-mail...

Food? "I'm trying to be good and not think about that too much." is no longer a true statement. I think about it a lot when I have guests for dinner and I enjoy cooking (and ironing) far too much not to think about food and I've decided I shouldn't be guilty about it any longer. I'll eat just about anything that's already dead, and usually after cooking in the case of animal protein.

Music? The fact I failed to find enough classical music radio fare in New Zealand during my trip there in 2008 and had to buy cheap CDs of antique recordings of Bach will tell you something about my tastes in this area of life-support.
Six things I could never do without
1. Still those blue skies... Aotearoa lives up to its name far too closely 2. High-speed broad-band - the faster the better - but that's self-evident to anyone on this site. It isn't so much that I can't do without it - just that its absence turns me into someone REALLY NASTY. I believe it's called withdrawal... 3. Human - even humANE - touch. 4. air 5. water 6. TIME - to do all the stuff I have to do... Things do take the time they take and you make a mess if you try to hurry.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
How nice it will be to lounge around naked on a nice big towel near some sussurating wavelets anywhere in the world (Western Australia is excellent for this sort of thing but I travel a lot and need to know where my next hit of outdoor nakedness can be legally arranged. Seriously. I think about where else, apart from home, I don't have to wear clothes. In our climate, clothes are largely superfluous for warmth six months of the year - only for sun protection, and what's wrong with sunscreen, I ask?
On a typical Friday night I am
"Typical Friday night" on recent evidence in my little life this term can only be described as an oxymoron. Hence I am unable to answer this question.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I live in a de-consecrated church some of the time. I love it. It resonates with sounds both inside and out in the most generous and instructive way - but can also be superbly quiet. I go there to still the spirit when the city wants to accelerate me too much.
More serious and important, perhaps: recent survivor of prostate cancer. Diagnosed March 2010, laparoscopic radical prostatectomy July 2010 seems to have got most of those naughty profilerating cells. Have to be careful not to laugh too excitedly, now; damp underwear can be so uncomfortable. Some people even find it offensive? Why? They're not wearing it...
You should message me if
You have the odd grey cell to rub against another one, know what PARSING is and don't mind pretty flippant and annoying replies if I'm in the mood. (See all of the above. In Oz they call people like me a Smart-Arse. And, yes, some of my teachers - and colleagues - have been known to find this decidedly unattractive, if not thoroughly threatening.) I CAN be serious, too, however, and my established OKC friends know I've never actually asked them to parse anything (but I bet they could if I was rude enough to ask!)
The two of us