The Show Musn’t Go On!

It has been an odd week. As the days get longer, it seems that the working week does also. It dragged somewhat, but I suspect that was due to the knowledge that this Saturday would be my first gig with Mustard, and my first live appearance with my instrument (fnar) in twenty years.

As Friday eventually happened, I was mentally prepared and oddly not nervous at all. What I felt was anticipation. I was really looking forward to it, regardless of how many mistakes I was bound to make with so little rehearsal time.

With my final practice and warm up complete in the afternoon we headed for the venue, a Conservative club in a nearby suburb of Bolton, similar to Wembley staduim in lots of ways, at around 6pm. Setting up was a whole new experience for me also, as since the last time I set up with a band to play live all sorts of gadgets and gizmos have come along that I didn’t even recognise, never mind know what to do with them. Anyhow, I made myself as useful as possible by carrying stuff and after about an hour or so we were getting somewhere close to being ready.

The club itself was already pretty full which meant a sound check to an audience. As we began to play, I was blown away by the sound we were making. The difference between rehearsal room noise and the sound we make through a proper PA etc was astounding. We managed about half a song until our singer Steve, who was out front listening to make sure all the levels were right got a tap on the shoulder. His neighbour appeared and told him that his Mum had been taken ill and he had to come straight away.

He of course left immediately and we sat in shock for a little while until he called to deliver the awful news that his Mum had passed away. We sat there stunned for a while feeling awful for him and not quite knowing what to say. Clearly the gig was the last thing on anyone’s mind and after getting our heads around the events of the night for a while we began the task of taking down everything that had just been set up.

We left the club at around ten still shaking our heads at what had just happened. So for awful reasons, I wait to take part in my first gig still. That of course is irrelevant when compared to the events of last night and we’ll play again whenever Steve is ready to do so and not before.

In other news, Louise has her start date for her new job as a nurse. Her new employers got in touch last week and said as the 6th of April was a bank holiday could she start on the 7th.  Of course, that is the day that Emily flies to America, so a quick call back to them to explain the situation and she is starting on the 8th instead. With incredible coincidences like that, where after three years of study for Louise and over twelve months of waiting for Emily, both events land on the same day, I do think that there are some soap opera writers somewhere putting my life together. Add last night to that as well, and I’m expecting the Eastenders “duff duff” drums to play at any moment.

At this point I could lament how last week a suspected broken shower led to the replacement of our entire fuse box at enormous expense, but  won’t as it would make me seem petty and tight, which is the last thing I’m sure anyone could accuse me of being!

So Louise enters her last week as student nurse tomorrow knowing that everything is submitted, signed off and every assignment passed. After a week off she’ll begin work and fulfill an ambition held for more years than I care to mention. The hard work, determination, tears and staying power during those three years have been incredible, and it’s a huge credit to Louise to go back to study in her forties and get through the whole thing with flying colours as she has.

After the awful events of yesterday, today has been quite uneventful. I walked the dog, and then I bathed the dog. I’m not sure who enjoys that the least to be honest. He’s currently running around the house in a bad mood rubbing himself on stuff, which is what I tend to do on a Sunday evening when confronted with a costume drama on the telly and another week of work stretching ahead of me like eternal damnation.

post bath march 2015

Till the next time…..

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