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johnny9fingersIn many respects, the Wirral gig was trying.
But every cloud has a silver lining. Travelling with good companions is a rare pleasure. Travelling in stressfull circumstances is ameliorated by good company. Jane and Nicky are damn fine travelling companions. The band are all cool, of course, as was the Deputising male singer, Gordon. Man.... what a voice.
The bald facts are these: my car broke down upon arrival at the gig. I called the auto rescue services, who came out and told me not to drive it. Should they ferry it to my house, or to a garage of my choice. I explained to them I lived 250 miles away on the edge of South London, and was carrying two other passengers. That's why I have rescue insurance. They asked when would it be convenient for them to take the car back to my local garage: so 7am the morning after the gig was booked as a firm date. I explained I had to go to a wedding of two good chums at 2pm the next day, and both girls had things to do too. It is Jane's younger daughter's thirteenth birthday today (Sunday) and she wanted to be home as soon as possible, and Nicky had unspecified stuff which required her presence.
We set up without further ado.
My 'blackface twin' went down halfway through the first of three sets: it was a fuse. As I had been taking Jane and Nicky (and their kit) to the gig, I'd slimmed down my normal rig and had omitted to pack my box of spares. The soundmen turned up trumps: kudos to them: did the direct-box thingy until the end of the first set and I got the twin working for the second.
But still....I was playing tolerably well, and the vibe was good throughout the band.
We had a blinding gig. It wasn't perfect but it was, in some respects, better than that: having more edge.
We eventually all got to the motel we were staying in. I was sharing a room with the bassist, Mark, who told me that the girls had decided to travel back home with him the next day.
I had to be up for the Auto rescue in the morning so I left the other guys partying and headed off to get some kip, after getting a hand to take my kit back to the motel from a courteous and decent chap employed by the venue.
The AA (or Automobile Association, who are the rescuers of choice in my world) called my soon-to-expire-from-lack-of-battery-charge mobile at 6.34am on Sunday. Too stupid to remember everything said the night previously, I went and knocked on the girl's room door, and then returned to finishing packing and stowing my kit.
The AA arrived in the shape of a flatbed truck at 6.58am. It took us five minutes to put the car on the truck, and we headed off. less than half a mile down the road I got a call on my mobile, just before it gave up the ghost. It was Nicky. Why had I gone without the girls....We turned the truck around and picked them up, and I was teased mercilessly for about twenty miles. It is not in my nature to abandon a damsel in distress: especially if I've had any part in causing the distress, no matter how inadvertently. Anyway, they forgave me after a few miles and we settled down to the first part of what proved to be a long journey, made somewhat easier by good company and good conversation. Our friendly AA man, Nathan, proved to be an amusing chap. Ex-RAF and funny.
We had to exchange tow vehicles at Warwick and then again at the edge of London: European regulations about 'cab-time' being what they are.
During all this the girls kept good spirits and sharp tongues. I am at present being teased quite a lot about my new romance, and the girls proved no exception, though they were slightly kinder than most.
We eventually got to London and dropped Jane off. Then we headed for the garage who would do the repairs to my car. Of course it was closed, because it was a Sunday, so we left the car outside the garage on the street and I posted the keys through the garage's letterbox.
The AA man took my kit back to my place and then took Nicky home. I had missed the wedding I was meant to attend. Dammit.
After sorting myself out, I got a lift to Milady's place, for comfort, as you do.
In the morning, the garage phoned me to ask me exactly where I'd left the car. I replied "on the street, immediately outside." "On the yellow line?" "Oh shit."
The car had been towed.
Yesterday was therefore most amusing. It cost £290 ($560 at present exchange rates) to get the car out of the pound and towed back to the garage. I only made £220 on the gig. The repair bill is yet to come. Oh bliss. Milady took a day off to help me sort through the paperwork and bollocks. I am now frazzled and have a nervous tic. But at least the lady loves me, which makes it all bearable.
May your day be better than my weekend.
But every cloud has a silver lining. Travelling with good companions is a rare pleasure. Travelling in stressfull circumstances is ameliorated by good company. Jane and Nicky are damn fine travelling companions. The band are all cool, of course, as was the Deputising male singer, Gordon. Man.... what a voice.
The bald facts are these: my car broke down upon arrival at the gig. I called the auto rescue services, who came out and told me not to drive it. Should they ferry it to my house, or to a garage of my choice. I explained to them I lived 250 miles away on the edge of South London, and was carrying two other passengers. That's why I have rescue insurance. They asked when would it be convenient for them to take the car back to my local garage: so 7am the morning after the gig was booked as a firm date. I explained I had to go to a wedding of two good chums at 2pm the next day, and both girls had things to do too. It is Jane's younger daughter's thirteenth birthday today (Sunday) and she wanted to be home as soon as possible, and Nicky had unspecified stuff which required her presence.
We set up without further ado.
My 'blackface twin' went down halfway through the first of three sets: it was a fuse. As I had been taking Jane and Nicky (and their kit) to the gig, I'd slimmed down my normal rig and had omitted to pack my box of spares. The soundmen turned up trumps: kudos to them: did the direct-box thingy until the end of the first set and I got the twin working for the second.
But still....I was playing tolerably well, and the vibe was good throughout the band.
We had a blinding gig. It wasn't perfect but it was, in some respects, better than that: having more edge.
We eventually all got to the motel we were staying in. I was sharing a room with the bassist, Mark, who told me that the girls had decided to travel back home with him the next day.
I had to be up for the Auto rescue in the morning so I left the other guys partying and headed off to get some kip, after getting a hand to take my kit back to the motel from a courteous and decent chap employed by the venue.
The AA (or Automobile Association, who are the rescuers of choice in my world) called my soon-to-expire-from-lack-of-battery-charge mobile at 6.34am on Sunday. Too stupid to remember everything said the night previously, I went and knocked on the girl's room door, and then returned to finishing packing and stowing my kit.
The AA arrived in the shape of a flatbed truck at 6.58am. It took us five minutes to put the car on the truck, and we headed off. less than half a mile down the road I got a call on my mobile, just before it gave up the ghost. It was Nicky. Why had I gone without the girls....We turned the truck around and picked them up, and I was teased mercilessly for about twenty miles. It is not in my nature to abandon a damsel in distress: especially if I've had any part in causing the distress, no matter how inadvertently. Anyway, they forgave me after a few miles and we settled down to the first part of what proved to be a long journey, made somewhat easier by good company and good conversation. Our friendly AA man, Nathan, proved to be an amusing chap. Ex-RAF and funny.
We had to exchange tow vehicles at Warwick and then again at the edge of London: European regulations about 'cab-time' being what they are.
During all this the girls kept good spirits and sharp tongues. I am at present being teased quite a lot about my new romance, and the girls proved no exception, though they were slightly kinder than most.
We eventually got to London and dropped Jane off. Then we headed for the garage who would do the repairs to my car. Of course it was closed, because it was a Sunday, so we left the car outside the garage on the street and I posted the keys through the garage's letterbox.
The AA man took my kit back to my place and then took Nicky home. I had missed the wedding I was meant to attend. Dammit.
After sorting myself out, I got a lift to Milady's place, for comfort, as you do.
In the morning, the garage phoned me to ask me exactly where I'd left the car. I replied "on the street, immediately outside." "On the yellow line?" "Oh shit."
The car had been towed.
Yesterday was therefore most amusing. It cost £290 ($560 at present exchange rates) to get the car out of the pound and towed back to the garage. I only made £220 on the gig. The repair bill is yet to come. Oh bliss. Milady took a day off to help me sort through the paperwork and bollocks. I am now frazzled and have a nervous tic. But at least the lady loves me, which makes it all bearable.
May your day be better than my weekend.
