Ahoy there shipmates!
Well, after lord-knows-how-many weeks without us playing, we were all rather relieved at the Blue Lagoon on Friday to find that we can still do this stuff.
Mostly. I think every one of us had a minor memory blackout at some point or another, but happily these didn’t coincide, so every song we played was basically not guilty, based on a majority verdict.
Perhaps this is why they have so many people in the orchestra for classical music – it is, after all, quite complicated, so if they have a lot of people then it doesn’t matter so much if one of them screws up.
Yes, that must be it. Also, as somebody pointed out to me, the other reason they have (say) 25 cellos playing the same thing is to make it louder.
Somebody really should go up to the Royal College of Music, and suggest they google the word “amplifier”. It’ll save them a fortune. I mean, after all, if I didn’t use an amp, then to be heard at a gig, we’d need probably at least three hundred of me.
Imagine that….
…Saturday night, and a birthday party agency gig for the lovely Louise, who turned out to be absolutely delightful, as were her many guests (and the caterers).
We were particularly taken with one of the guests, Jean, who was from “Upstate Noo Yawk”, looked exactly like Grandma out of Thunderbirds and was decidedly mischievous.
“I used to live with a rock musician, years ago”, she tells me during the break, “I gotta say, that was some nice playing”.
“Why, thank you”, I say.
“Yup, not bad considering you ain’t no spring chicken… …Just kidding, I guess you’re not even sixty yet…”
Ben has difficulty breathing for a while after hearing this. I can’t think of a suitable reply, so settle instead for getting Jean a beer on the band’s tab.
After we’ve finished, we are slumped down to get our breath back, and Jean pounces on me from behind and grabs me in a vertebrae-crushing headlock.
“God, I love you, you fuckin’ hunk”, she informs me, as I struggle for air.
Ben appears to be suffering a reprise of his earlier breathing difficulties.
Anyway – a jolly fine night – and, coincidentally, it was also our very own Stuart’s birthday. As a special treat, we bought him a new drumkit….
Which turned out to be just the right size for our rubber chicken to play…
Anyways – next weekend, just the one gig; we’re over in deepest darkest Wales, for a birthday party in a hotel somewhere up in the valleys.
Square on
A