Chickenfoot and the Magic Door

There is this bloke i know. He's called Tom Palmer. Tom, well, he's all sorts of things - a runner, a Leeds fan but mostly he writes these good books about football. You might know 'em. Well i read his blog and he has been talking about magic doorways. Tom goes running up big hills, lots of writers i know run or walk, ( why is that?) and he has to go through a gate on the tops and when he does he feels like he is entering a magical place. I got thinking about that. Where is my magic gate? Well i reckon its all to do with writing, thinking, walking and music. When i write poems i kinda go into a magic place, ( cafes and pubs mainly!!) when i think it happens as well and it happens when i walk - time dissolves and melts like butter in a pan - - and it most definitely happens when i listen to good music. Good loud music. At the mo i am listening to Chickenfoot, a loud rock band from America. Check em out, you might find your magic gate!!!! Rock n'roll doggy!!!!!!!!!!!!!