Dire Straits Story How Dire Straits the band was started

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Age causes lots of problems and one of them is forgetfulness, but when your being irresponsible with the truth and saying it on a televised show, then that is just being totally stupid, so for God’s sake Mark don’t relate a fictitious story that can be dissected like the alien autopsy. I’ve listened and watched closely since the Dire Straits album was released the way you have played Sultans of Swing, at first you put your all into the words and music, then it become boring probably due to the fact you couldn’t get a song with the lyrics you’d written to be as popular, so you just went through the motions including words of your own to break the monotony, something that would never have happened if the work was written by you, for a artist would never take the piss out of their own creation.

Another mistake you made was so obvious it actually made me wonder if you do research the lyrics you claim you have written, or have someone do it for you, for I know the P.R.S. archives are full of lyrics whose writers have passed on years ago, and I’m saying that because you definitely haven’t a clue about Creole music, and I’ll quote the line, “And the Sultans played creole,” Creole Mark is a French and Black form of music from Louisiana in America, and the instruments they play are a Mouth Box, Cigar box Fiddle, Vest Washboard fiddle, Mandolin and Accordion and Bass Guitar, I’d not only say hearing a band playing Creole in this country is as rare as a Dragons tooth, but I’d have thought a privilege to hear. Almost as hard to find as someone wearing Brown Baggies in the London scene, unless they’d travelled down from Manchester, eh Mark.?

Brian Johnston isn’t a Andrew Neil and swallowed the guff you spouted like a English breakfast after fasting on toast for a week, “I was in a pub in Deptford, there was a band playing Creole a couple of guys were at the pool table, I had a couple of pints, then a guy went on stage and said something like, now its time to go home, thank you the Sultans of swing, oh and there was a Saxophonist, they weren’t very good,”..

Come on Mark if your just making up story’s to justify why your claiming the royalties for lyrics you didn’t write, make sure what you’ve said cannot be found out to be what it was a load of bullshit, I’ve had two million hits on my blog, and Dire straits have sold perhaps two hundred million records if not more, plus they are one of the most well known bands in the world. So before you came out with that feeble delivery on how the lyrics of Sultans of Swing were formed, didn’t you think if there was a group called Sultans they’d have a genuine claim for using their name, and the barman who served you the two pints, he’d remember you and them, for they obviously had a contract, then there was the pool players, and I take it the groups friends, and perhaps a couple of locals, they would all have remembered that night in Deptford, just like you did, especially after you made them all famous by telling that story, and it really is just a story Mark, for you were there when I wrote the lyrics, and the only time I was in a pub in Deptford was after you allowed John Illsley to embarrass me after the plaque unveiling. So lets see if you remember this quote you made?

I don’t like definitions but if there is a definition of freedom, it would be when you have control over your reality to transform it to change it rather than have it imposed upon you. You cannot really ask for more. I’m sorry Mark the way I see it and I’m sure a lot of Dire Straits fans do as well reckon you have already lost control and we are not wanting fables, or you becoming a Boris Johnston of spin, we gave you respect so we are entitled to the same, or do you believe for some reason its just a one way street only for Mark Knopfler. Robert Marshal

People have been asking why mark Knopfler, who introduced himself as Dirk to me when we first met, suddenly after sending me a link to his email address and for some reason still calling himself Dirk and after many emails mostly from me, suddenly went silent?

At first I thought he thought I was going to send him lyrics, that could have been true for when I met John Illsley, he said, ” He didn’t know why I’d got in touch,” so I do think they were expecting something from me, and as I have already said, you may be a super star, but your a human being first, and Illsley wont speak to anyone who knew him before the Dire Straits era, and if you go to one of his gigs you will find that is true. And the way he has treated me he must have forgotten that because of me he’d still be staring out of a cafe window, wondering how to live of a State Pension.

Anyway back to Marks reason for stopping our correspondence on the Web, I was going through the emails I’d sent him, and found what I think may have challenged his ego, and caused the silence, the computer I had at the time was not recognising the name Dirk, so every email I’d sent him was to a Dick, and that may have got his heckles up, so I apologise for that, but over the years I’ve called him and Illsley worse than that, but being a Dick may have struck the six blade knife syndrome. Robert Marshal

When you eventually get someone from the start of the Dire Straits era to discuss their part in the bands history, the six blade knife comes out, “He’s a weirdo” the guy who discussed on amarkintime about getting my blog hacked and removed from the internet said, others say Pick has developed a deliberate forgetfulness about songs they believe rehearsed and were hidden away in Mark Knopflers cuboard, maybe the same drawer he produced my lyrics from to fill the Brother in Arms album.

However I can say without hesitation Sacred Loving was never sent as part of the Dire Straits album to be reviewed by Charlie Gillet, for the one part of the agreement Mark did keep was the only lyrics that were to be on the D.S. were mine, and if you have listened to any of the songs he and David wrote singly or together before the band was formed, where would they have fitted in, I’ve listened to them and its like chalk and cheese they don’t mix, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try it, and found it didn’t work, that was why the album Communique was released like a dog out of the traps to get his own songs and lyrics onto vinyl.

Picks hesitancy to discuss the deeper questions are not down to duplicity, its because he and David were not in the know about my lyrics, and why should he be, in the book of Mark he was just the drummer, just like David was just his younger brother, it was Illsley and Mark who were pulling the strings, and to make it work Pick was made to sign a clause where the monies like Royalties would compensate in case any disagreement about trivia like Plagiarism arose, something he had never experienced in all his time in the business, but it worked, but again Pick was the drummer and a good one not a conspirator. So be thankful the bloke agreed to the interview and seems to have given us more information about his time with the band, good and bad, than Illsley seems to have given the writer of the book of fiction about dire Straits, yes the same one who run to Illsley to do something like write a book about himself, something the editor said would be full of puns, if he thinks getting ripped of is funny it will be hilarious. And heres another one Bob Dylan has just sold the rights to his songs lyrics and music to Universal, Mark Knopfler sold the lyrics of everything I wrote years ago. If Picks gig gets going in the new year I will be making a determined effort to attend, so I hope you will make it too and watch a master at work. Robert marshal

So the post-mortem of Mark Knopflers musical abilities has been started by the die hard few at Amarkintime, who due to the lack of news from the Knopfler press core, have had time to dissect and scrutinize the music the guitarist has played on his solo albums. And like Vultures that need fed after the feasting has left their belly’s empty, their hunger is so strong that they look for some kind of satisfaction gnawing on the bones of the silent victim, who if by some miracle rose from the grave and plucked a D note from his red guitar would scatter his underfed fans back into the music stores to buy his new album, whether it had the semblances of Clapton Pink Floyd, Bill Hayley or Bob Dylan, within the chord structure, and when you have so little notes to work with, your obviously going to trespass into some other musicians music, that did the same to another’s work style.

What I resented of this attack on Knopfler, was that some of those who made comments on What Song Would You Skip, were being asked to make a judgement on Mark’s songs since he went solo, and since he’s written more songs than he ever did with Dire straits, there was plenty to choose from, and since most of those who did comment were the ones who made it clear they didn’t and probably still don’t believe I wrote the lyrics on the D.S. album, their loyalty to M.K. is as thin on a water dish left out in winter for the birds. One of them wrote a book about M.K. and Dire Straits, and said he got a interview with John Illsley, if that was the case he’d have included my part in Dire Straits, for if I’m not in it, then its fiction and not fact. Of course he was the person who suggested that they should get a hacker to erase my blog from the Web, and his co conspirator was a person who has numerous accounts on Amarkintime, that he appears with a new one and no one seems to notice, even though he answers and questions himself. So if Mark is slumbering like a old grandfather on the couch and its his red guitar that slides to the floor, lets be thankful that its not a joint for the house we want him to burn down is the Albert Hall, and though he’s seventy bringing the real Dire Straits together again, would be the finale that the real fans are waiting for, and the sham dissectors could put away their scalpels, and listen to the four musicians that started a band that doesn’t want the Vultures coming down from the trees. Robert Marshal

In the lyrics of Love Over Gold Mark Knopfler states it takes, ” Mind over Matter,” to get you back to reality and your feet back on the ground.? At his last gig in Edinburgh, there’s a lane that runs down a slope next to the Playhouse Theatre across from the hotel I’d been staying in.

I saw that a small crowd had gathered at one of the stage doors so crossing over Leith Street I sauntered down the cobbled back street, that as a child I’d used to get to the Calton Hill. With the memories in my mind of the old tenements now gone at the bottom of the lane, I saw a black limousine turn the corner and head up the hill towards the group a mixture of about twelve adults and children. Myself having not quite got to them the car passed and stopped directly in front of me, the driver door opened and out steps Marks manager Paul Crockford, he is now standing right in front of me and giving me a very thoughtful stare.

I now think to myself Knopfler must definitely see me, so I look into the car and in the back seat is Mark, his eyes are closed and his face is puffed up like someone holding their breath and desperately needing oxygen, suddenly with his eyes still closed he swings round and Crockford opens the back door and the star of the show gets out with his back to me, with a last suspicious look at me Crockford slams the door shut and follows Mark in through the stage door. Dumbfounded I watch the pair disappear into the theatre, now that I can get passed the car the small crowd of onlookers start to disperse except a guy with his son who hesitantly go through the door followed by myself.

Knopfler is now on a landing where some one must have informed him about the young fan and his father below, and they are given the ok to proceed up the stairs, so taking my chance I call out, ” Macbeth is rocking to night,” those were the last words I said when I was leaving the house in Deptford when Mark asked me where I was going after the lyrics session. He was bending down to sign something for the youngster, when the words I’d called out seem to penetrate through his obviously dazed mind, and I’m saying that because he didn’t look to where the shout had come from, but turned to Crockford and said,” That’s the guy,” and Crockford answered, ” What guy,” making Knopfler still not looking in my direction answer in a  frustrated tone, ” The guy, the guy,” now Crockford seemed to think for a moment, and putting a friendly hand on Marks shoulder told his star in a convincing tone, ” There’s not a guy Mark,” and ushered him through a door away from the confused onlookers and the guy.

I’ve heard of hypnotism but mind control, and what about the mind over matter line, it didn’t seem to be working that day, Mark was out of it, and seemingly to make sure there would be no repeat of what happened for memories sake, the venue in the Playhouse Theatre that had been used for years for knopfler gigs was suddenly no more and transferred through to Glasgow. I can understand all those with their hands in Knopfler’s pockets ex wife’s and children, including John Illsley and all those managers who have got rich through Dire Straits, having memory loss about my part in the game. And we know the management make the artiste’s in the band sign something like a vow of silence, but in the name of the Wee Man was it really necessary to  have so many people to become subjected to a conspiracy to commit fraud.

When I worked with the Citizens Advice, I was dealing with redundancy claims, and a large building company wanted to fight against one of their workers claims, I told them was their reputation worth losing than the money the worker was entitled too remaining in their bank account, seems Paul Crockford and co wouldn’t have taken the same advice.

I’d been hitting it of with Mark Knopfler like the vibe you get when the drink takes you over and everyone suddenly gets the same buzz, except the driver whose sober and not enjoying being left out, and that was John Illsley who wasn’t on the same cloud and having threatened me once was now acting like a nasty sick Romeo who would have been jealous if it had been a doctor taking Mark’s pulse. When you have a six foot four male hovering over you and giving out the warning signs, that say ‘I’ve got my eye on you pal,’ for reasons only he and Mark seems to know about, I thought to myself if the guy feels left out and suspicious of me, then I’ll invite him to join in, it seemed to work in the many schools and playgrounds I’d studied and played in, so lets give it a shot, so with Mark sitting on the arm of the chair and myself on the floor using the seats cushion as a desk, I asked Illsley where he’d been before we met.

Looking down from his lofty perch his eyes narrowing wondering what I was up to, answered like a criminal being quizzed by the old Bill, ‘ I was getting Coffee Beans,” he stated and as a forethought said, ‘From Angellucci’s,” like someone who had afternoon tea in the Café Royal every Saturday and wanted to add, ‘Don’t you,’ and with that forced out of him gave me a sneer and went back to sitting with his book on the settee, ‘And a pick up for the guitar,’ Mark added but got no answer, so I wrote on the note paper.

Stepping out to Angellucci’s for my coffee beans, checking out the movies and the magazines.

Earlier that morning I’d seen Illsley sitting at a window seat in a coffee bar, and I’d gone in and the girl behind the counter was a darling, and when she asked me what I wanted, I replied, ” I want to marry you,’ that brought a great big smile from a very lovely and very bored counter assistant. Hence the next line.

Waitress she watches me crossing from the Barocco Bar, I’m getting a pick up for my steel guitar, I saw you walking out Shaftsbury Avenue, excuse me talking, ‘ I want to marry you,’ this is seventh heaven street to me, don’t be so proud, your just another angel in the crowd, and I’m walking in the wild west end, walking with your wild best friend.

The last two lines I hoped would help Illsley and I bond together, of course that didn’t happen, then or now, and like his interest in joining Mark and I with the lyrics, I drifted back to things that had happened in my own life. I’d met Carl Douglas who sang Kung Fu Fighting when I was working in a bar, I’d told him about my lyric writing and he seemed interested offering to have me join him on tour, but a woman came into my life and I took a job with London Transport as a conductor, then driver on the number eleven bus from Liverpool Street to Hammersmith Broadway, and that’s where I saw the Lions and the Starlings, and my conductress, it was Mark who suggested the number nineteen bus route as it probably ran through Deptford.

And my conductress on the number nineteen she was a honey, pink toe nails and hands all dirty with money, greasy hair easy smile, made me feel nineteen for a while.

And I did go down to China Town, a agency had given me a job card and I was lost and surrounded by cooked ducks, and I was starving, but the scene of those fried birds took away my appetite, and I climbed the stairs hoping to get my directions, knocking on the door and getting no answer, I opened the door to see four Chinese guys counting the money from a table covered with the stuff, they all lifted their heads and looked at me then resumed what they’d been doing, I closed the door almost knocking over a tray of dead ducks, and here is the story.

And I went down China town, in the backroom it’s a man’s world, all the money go down, duck inside a doorway got a duck to eat, right now feels alright now, you and me we can’t beat.

I’ll dedicate the next part of the lyric to Gary Holton who died of Heroin Poisoning, whose journey through the drugs scene ended in tragedy, from speed to downers, I met him in a club in London in the 70s. God rest his soul.

And a gogo dancing girl yes I saw her, the D.J. he says here’s Mandy for ye, I feel alright to see her, but she’s paid to do that stuff, she’s dancing high I move on by, the close ups can get rough, when your walking in the wild west end.

This lyric took about fifteen minutes to write, and I still got no response from Illsley, but I did impress Mark Knopfler.

Stepping out to Angellucci’s for my coffee beans, Checking out the movies and the magazines, Waitress she watches me crossing from the Barocco bar, I’m getting a pick up for my steel guitar, I saw you walking out Shaftsbury Avenue, Excuse me talking I wanna marry you, This is seventh heaven street to me, Don’t be so proud, your just another angel in the crowd, And I’m walking in the wild west end, Walking with your wild best friend.

And my conductress on the number nineteen, She was a honey, Pink toe nails hands dirty with money, Greasy hair easy smile, Made me feel nineteen for a while. And I went down to Chinatown, In the backroom it’s a man’s world, All the money go down, Duck inside the doorway, gotta duck to eat, Right now feels alright now, You and me we can’t beat.

And a gogo dancing girl yes I saw her, The D.J. he say here’s Mandy for ye, I feel alright to see her, But she’s paid to do that stuff, She’s dancing high I move on by, The close ups can get rough, When your walking in the wild west end…..Robert Marshal

When  I  came  back  on  the  scene  in  2006,  John  Illsley  contacted  Mark  Knopfler  and  proposed  reforming  Dire  Straits,  the  answer  was  no  no  no. Was  this  because he  was  having  such  a  good  time  posturing  with  other  celebrities,  who  hadn’t  yet  been  informed  he  wasn’t  being  truthful  about  who  had  written  the  lyrics  to  Dire  Straits  hits  like   Sultans  of  Swing,  and  he  was  filling  his  belly  with  the  fruits  of  deceit  and  enjoying  every  moment  before  the  table  was  chopped  up  for  firewood,  bringing  to  a  end  the  phone  calls  for  him  to  collaborate  on  others  stars  albums, no  no  no . Then  perhaps  Illsley  had  been  to  hasty   and  expected  with  my  return  our  collaboration together  could  bring  the  old  Dire  Straits  back  together,  but  how  could  that  reunion  ever  happen,  Illsley’s  enthusiasm  didn’t  seem  to  get  approval  from  Knopfler  who  was  touring  with Emmy Lou  Harris,  and  hadn’t  he   been  told  by  his  friend  Mark,  that  he  had  already  sold  the  rights  of  the  songs  and  the  lyrics  written  by  Robert  Marshal to  the  major  record  companies  Polydor for  example  and  had  spent  the  money,  and  as  that  was  never  part  of  our  agreement  made  in  Deptford,  and  just  outright  theft  and  fraudulent  dealings  with  those  record  companies  he’d  obviously  duped  into  buying  someone  else’s  Intellectual Property  he  had  to  say  no  no  no.  You’d  think  surely  after  all  the  records  D.S.  sold  would  money  be  a  problem  to  Mark,  or  maybe  the  truth  is  you  just  can’t  get  enough  of   the  stuff,  and  your  reputation  means  nothing  as  long  as  you’ve  got  a  healthy  bank  balance.  No  no  no  when  I  met  him  his  opening  gambit  was, ” Are  you  the  guy  whose  going  to  make  me  a  millionaire,” didn’t  seem  like  a  greedy  geezer  to  me, or  maybe  yes yes yes.?

It  was  then  Illsley  decided  to  put  away  his  learn  to  paint  book,  close  his  studio  and  hide  his  paint  pots,  and  make  believe  he  could  handle  the  lead  guitar  role  and  give  his  bass  position  to  someone  else,  and  with  him  singing  he  had  some  of  the  ingredients  that  were  once  Dire Straits, but  without  Mark  there  was  no-one  able  to  take  on  the  lead  guitar,  and  certainly  not  Illsley  whose  come  back  into  the music  business,  has  been  a  financial  disaster  according  to  him.  I’ve  got  to  pay  for  our  equipment  being  stored  and  the  roadies  wages  and  there’s  the  venue  costs,  and  a  hundred  or  so  paying  punters  isn’t  going  to  cover  the  expenses,  he  moaned. However  Mister  big  spender Illsley  has  again  overlooked  the  reality  of  the  situation, its  mostly  the  money  he’s  pocketed  that  should  have  gone  to  Robert  Marshal  he’s  spending,  and  he’s  got  the  balls  to  complain, money  for  nothing  mate  remember.

Andy Greene writing for the Rolling Stone Magazine made a profound statement when he said, with Mark Knopfler not even showing up when Dire Straits were inducted into the Rock an Roll Hall of Fame did this mean he’d finished with the band that had brought him wealth and fame globally.

But surely if you have decided on something as massive as this, that gave you a career and taken up so much of your time, you cannot just scrap the group take up as solo performer playing Folk music, and turn your back on the Rock industry and the fans. When I first met Mark Knopfler he stood behind a couch that Illsley was sitting on kidding on he was reading a book for a exam he was about to take at the Brubeck College that he and Mark were attending as Mature students. And for some reason that stunned Illsley, and made me question his motives, he told me Illsley was his brother, but the way Knopfler has acted so ungraciously to the fans of Dire Straits, and the way Illsley brushed me aside giving a two fingered salute for everything I’d done for them, I’d say they were joined at the hip and twins.

So are the twins really surprised that they themselves are now being ripped of, by the same minded people who can see there is money to be made from Knopfler and Illsley’s lack of humanities, a course that Illsley was studying for that seems to have gone a wry as their fall from grace proves, and in steps the Vultures, that for some reason upsets John Illsley. Why because some of his former employees or band members are about to go on tour calling their band Dire Straits, then sensibly as a afterthought add Legacy just in case Mark comes out of his echo trip, and with our differences settled, show this group of chancers who owns Dire Straits.

John Illsley the person I blame for the break up and downfall of Dire Straits the band and its reputation, stated in the Rolling Stone or whined, I said to them, if you are going to do that, I take it he means Clarke and co calling the group Dire Straits, will you please call the band something else, it would be like some people getting together and calling themselves the Stones or the Floyd, you can’t really do that, you were members of the band for a while, but you don’t own the name, can you please call it something else.

  What a hypocrite, and neither do you Illsley, or Mark Knopfler, I gave the band its name and that is why the Legacy or any other tribute band can call their group Dire Straits, and its because of your underhand dealings they can do it, and until you and Mark recognize the major part I played in Dire Straits and stop this idiocy, you will find the same lack of respect that you showed to me, will come back to haunt you.

You have already ruined Mark’s reputation in the music industry, and he is a talented musician, while you are just a impostor a jack of all trades a master of none, and that was said by a gallery owner where your paintings were hidden in a corner of his studio, so I’m really glad to see you are now getting your comeuppances for the rotten way you have treated people, and I can name a few.

You once claimed and I have it in writing with your signature, that you took offence at being called a Plagiarist, if you weren’t one Illsley, the Plagiarists that are now Plagiarizing you wouldn’t be getting away with it, makes you think doesn’t it. Robert

That is the communication being flouted on the Amarkintime website, and the conspiracies of what that means is being speculated like a dog with a bone. If Mark Knopfler has something to say, he’s taken a very long time to say it. When I came out with my part in the formation of Dire Straits, it was reckoned by the fans, Mark would have something to say about that, and my claim would be erased by his rich and famous lawyers, instead he said nothing, and by his silence the fans were left with the fact that I was telling the truth. For a rock star he has not only neglected his army of followers, but the public in General, his father came to this country as a refugee fleeing from the Nazi’s, and made his home in Scotland,and we the Scots trusted him and his family to be like us, where the doors were open and where we learned to help and share with our neighbours. I’m afraid Mark has taken the John Illsley bankers son aptitude of what’s mine is mine and I’m keeping it. But to put that type of disgraceful thinking into reality, no its not yours or Illsley’s it belongs too, I wrote the lyrics and gave the band the name of Dire Straits, so the bankers son is a twister, and the son of a refugee is a accomplice? And if that’s their mind set in come the other Vultures to pick the body clean, instead of being paid for the Royalties for coming up with the idea of Money for Nothing, the lyrics I wrote are being plagiarized by television companies who know Knopfler wont dispute the case, and there are plenty of them doing it. So we can see why those refugee’s and immigrants who have come into this and other countries, are looked upon with suspicion when one of our greatest musicians has allowed his reputation to be belittled by his so called friend, when he has so more to lose, no you cannot polish a doo doo Mark, but it can be flushed down the toilet with the rest of the shite, and is that your only announcement, I’d say your going to retire and hope you can make a living from the studio you bought from my money, and I’m in no doubt that you and Illsley claim the Government pension of 150 pounds and the 200 cold weather payment. I honestly don’t know why you contacted me, unless it was just to humiliate me for some reason that I know nothing about, but its back fired something I’d say Illsley is used too, however your character must definitely be having self issues, remember he was the straight and not in our game, and now your going to be like a thief in the night and scuttle away, with what’s left of the loot, eh pal. Robert

Most of the photo’s that were taken at the Plaque unveiling outside the house in Deptford have been well  scrutinized by Illsley, and any crowd scenes have been  scrapped in case I was seen talking to Mark Knopfler, which might be used in evidence. However he  couldn’t erase them all and guess who he is  glaring at, yes me, and its the same threatening look I got from him when Mark had gone out of the room, and he warned me that, ” Mark was his property, and I’d better back of or else,” ?. And he did that twice, until the look on my face told Mark there had been trouble between myself and I take it his boyfriend, and I wasn’t going to put up with a jealous guy. He told me he could handle the six foot four Illsley, and I took him literally and we proceeded to go on writing the lyrics for the Dire Straits album, even though when ever I looked in Illsley’s direction, just like the photo on the left, his eyes were boring into me and its not a pretty sight.?

When I realized after quite a while of sending emails to Mark, that they didn’t want to know how I was, but were waiting on me sending lyrics to them, and that was why they’d answered my email, and wanted Lyrics for Nothing without a meeting. That’s when I began asking myself why would these two guys who have had all this success and money through my lyrics and ideas, not want to see me. The first thought that came to mind was, I’d not paid Mark for the three lines of Cocaine I’d sniffed up my nose, and he was so in need of the fifteen quid I’d left him in Dire Straits. Then I thought of Illsey’s jealousy and that got nearer to the truth especially with what had happened to David Knopfler, not even the guys brother was safe from Illsley and his over obsessional feelings about Mark, in fact he’s a control freak, even trying to set up David and myself to keep me away from Mark.?

However another thought came to mind, as I was leaving the flat Mark said to Illsley, ” He doesn’t think hes going to be in the band,” so I retorted back that he cannot write lyrics, and after reading a article written by Bill Forsyth, Im beginning to believe my words must have stung the young Mark Knopfler’s ego, but what about my feelings pal, do they not count, and of course your brothers, you must know by now Illsley mixed it for him, and he’s still at it now, and still a Jealous Guy. Robert.