Ahoy there shipmates!
Despite the stormy conditions this weekend, we managed to steer the good ship Angel Up Front safely through another couple of gigs. Poor Cap’n Emma was suffering from a nasty tropical disease (contracted in the equatorial paradise that is Wales), so the rest of the crew had to treat her rather more gently than usual. As a result, Friday’s gig at the Railway Tavern was slightly less raucous than expected – although we did well enough that the pub kindly gave us a crate of potatoes at the end of the night. And some money as well, which was nice.
Saturday at the Cider Press in Bishopston was a much more lively affair; despite me rolling up in a fairly advanced state of “Oh God, I’m so tired, can’t I just go home to bed now?”, I was immediately cheered by the lovely door staff, who insisted on unloading the van and hauling all the kit in for me. Bless ‘em! By the time everybody else arrived and the kit was set up, I was feeling rather chirpy. Just as well, since we were having a rare visit from both my sister, and brother, plus two lovely nieces, my beloved Dem and talented daughter Lil.
And, a mighty riotous night it turned out to be. As it’s quite a large place, we were able to turn everything up to “proper” volumes, which makes it much easier to enjoy ourselves. There was much singing along and dancing about, and I believe the audience rather enjoyed themselves as well. There were certainly some magnificent displays of Dad Dancing going on.
Em was pleased to be able to hand over some of the vocal duties to Lil, and we ended up carrying on until sometime past midnight, by which point I really was ready for bed beer.
Finally we got everything squashed into the soggy van, and careered off into the rainy night.
And so to bed beer.
Coming up next weekend – a private function, a birthday party in fact. Hopefully with beer.
Reaching the end of a job interview, the Human Resources Officer asks a young engineer fresh out of university, “And what starting salary are you looking for?”
The graduate replies, “In the region of £45,000 a year, depending on the benefits package.”
The interviewer inquires, “Well, what would you say to a package of five weeks paid holiday, full medical and dental insurance, company matching retirement fund to 50% of salary, and a company car leased every two years, say, a red Porsche?”
The engineer sits up straight and says, “Wow! Are you kidding?”
The interviewer replies, “Yes, but you started it.”