Good morning campers!
Well, it was another busy week in rawk’n’roll; young Lily’s first gig for ages on Thursday, over at what turned out to be a very friendly pub in Ludgershall; they helped carry the kit in, they danced and sang in all the right places, they bought some of her CDs, and they even paid us more than the agreed amount. We’ll be back!
Friday and another outing for Lil, this time to our beloved Queen Amy’s to fill in for a late cancellation; not being sure of a crowd, we brought our own, including about half of Da Family and some good ol’ mates as well. Very nice night indeed.
And Saturday brought some proper grown-up childishness, as we sallied forth to Molloy’s in the middle of town, for a night of fun and frolics including birthday weekends for Stuart’s kind-of-not-quite-but-really daughter Cara, our mad mate young Sarah, and also both of our pals Scotty and Keith. Except that, what with onset of dementia and all, I couldn’t for the life of me remember Keith’s name; which was a vital piece of information for Lou, who likes to get crowds to wish people happy birthdays to lucky folks at gigs while Ben and I indulge in a spot of tuning up.
En route to the pre-second set tactical leak, I encountered Ben, and enquired if he could “Remember the name of that bloke, you know the one, who’s name we can’t remember, that mysterious mystery bloke of mystery, the one with the non-rememberable name”.
Ben bursts out giggling, as he can see that Keith has in fact walked in just behind me; once I realise this, there is only one course of action open to me to avoid a potentially embarrassing social faux pas.
“Oh, there you are! Why can’t I remember your name?”
“It’s Keith”, he reminds me. “Keith”.
“Naaah, I don’t like that. Pick something else easier to remember. How about… Maramaduke? Or Wendy. I’ll remember that. Wendy.”
“Me name’s Keith”.
“Well, now it’s Wendy.”
He seems somehow unimpressed with my reasoning.
He is even less impressed when, near the end of the set, Ben and I are both pointing at him as we merrily bellow along with “Whole lotta WENDY…”
Sorry, mate ?
Knowing that after we finish playing it will be impossible to get the kit packed up and out of there through the mass of bodies, we just keep right on going way past our allotted finish time until Stuart finally begs for mercy, and so for the benefit of the hopelessly drunk young lady contingent we blast through the item on our set list entitled “Disco Shit”, and call it a (sweaty) night.
As it happens, once we stop playing, the crowd thins quite quickly, leaving behind a few that actually aren’t thin at all, plus several that have had such a nice time that the medics are there just to make sure they don’t suddenly forget to breathe.
So, we are all finally packed up and off on our way by the sensible side of 2am; particularly Lou, who begged to be allowed to leave early to go off with some of her mates.
I wonder what it’s like having a social life?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally socially inept, you know.
I did have a friend once… but he got away.
Coming up this week – no more band action, but young Lily is making a spirited attempt to pay off her debts…
Friday 18th – Lily B at The Messenger, Swindon
Despite sounding like a local newspaper, this apparently is actually a pub. If we can remember everything from last weekend, we might even be quite together. Even though Lil’s singing last Friday “brought tears” to our pal Gus’s eyes. Personally, I didn’t think she was THAT bad.
Saturday 19th – Lily B at the Waggon & Horses, Wootton Bassett
Nice cosy little place this, and as there’s just the two of us, I should manage to set everything up without having to trip over bits of drum kit every five minutes… Having said that, last week Lil “got stuck” putting my guitar away; she somehow got entangled into the strap, fell into the case with the axe on top of her, and had to be rescued. I swear this is true; before rescuing her, I tried to take a photo to prove it, but I was laughing so hard it didn’t come out.
But she does make me look smart…
Right, thassit for now