Ahoy there, me hearties!
And a warm welcome to this week’s edition of random nonsense – interspersed, if you’re lucky*, with the occasional deep and profound insight which will illuminate your soul, bringing a small oasis of comfort and peace amidst the complexity and confusion of modern life.
Saturday night and an appointment at the Cider Press in Bishopston looms. I have to admit that, after a somewhat hectic day, I wasn’t really looking forward to making the effort tonight – but second-rate guitarists gotta do what second-rate guitarists gotta do…
As Ben and I are negotiating our way down Gloucester Road to the gig, Stuart calls – he’s arrived there already, and has cleverly broken a leg off his bass drum whilst setting up. He’s off home for a replacement.
A marvellous start to the evening. But it does mean that when Ben and I arrive, we have free reign to get the PA and backline all set up without tripping over cymbal stands, and – with a little bit of judicious negotiation with punters on the nearest table – even get ourselves a bit of extra room to prance around in.
We’ve just about finished our setting up when the new manager, Delightful Tom, appears to check if we’re okay and whether we’d like some beer. (He’s clearly called Delightful Tom for a reason).
At this point, Stuart returns, and after a hectic ten minutes on the floor with a toolkit pronounces himself percussionally operational again.
Ben and I are both cheering up at this point, and in fact, the evening goes very satisfactorily indeed. Despite some buffoon (not even me) knocking a couple of pints over Stuart’s kit, we have a very jolly night. Delightful Tom reappears at halftime with more beer, and thanks us for our work so far, telling us that we’ve “got the volume just right”. At which, Ben and I turn to each other and chorus, “Turn everything up!”.
We even have an impromptu encore halfway through the second set – after we’ve finished playing the squirmingly cheesy “Rocking All Over The World”, the crowd carries on singing it. So, we join in with them for another couple of laps of the chorus before managing to stop them.
We bounce our way merrily to the end of the set, get the packing up done, and are set for home – except for Abby, who has decided instead to “go downtown with me mates and get battered”. We do love her so.
We have a weekend off coming up – just as well, as Stuart has a lot of beer to wash off his drumkit – but we’ll be back next week with more Tales Of The Unexpected.
Until then –
Square on
A
*You’re not lucky. Deal with it.