Do not underestimate the secret weapon of the PTA (parent teacher Association). She may look like a simple housewife living to bring up her ten kids in leafy suburbia and that the highlight of her day is driving the family 4X4 to and from school runs over the mountainous terrain that is commonly known as Bracknell Town. Oh no......... there is more to this woman than just another parent....she is Agent A.
Agent A is the reason I am in this mess......I was happy plodding along enjoying recreational plank spanking on my bass. When she manipulated wifey with the interview skills of Inspector Morse.
Wifey found herself volunteering information regarding our musical inclinations and three weeks later there we were performing before a couple of hundred people. This was all down to....Agent A.
It was Agent A that made me volunteer my services to man the bouncy castle at last year’s summer fete......It was blisteringly hot, England were playing Portugal in the quarter final of the World cup but Agent A had pounced and I ......saying no was not an option.
Agent A wants a band for this year’s summer fete......well you know the rest so far. I totally blame Agent A for this morning’s incident at the church hall. I will be emotionally scarred for a long time.
Someone suggested I go to the church hall to look at hiring it for rehearsals. So after the usual morning adventure commonly known as the school run I walked to the church hall which is oddly enough attached to our parish church (Sunday morning rehearsals out of the question then?) I walked through the double doors and there they were sat in the middle of the room in a horseshoe-arranged set of chairs, which had been laid out with the utmost care and precision. They were all looking in terror at a set of scales laying there helpless looking back at them as if to say ....”you must be joking if you ten ton bessies think you are standing on me” by the scales was a cheerful woman with a great big smile. She was in her fifties dressed in a loose fitting suit that she used to wear before she started dieting . I thought to myself I bet she shows everyone how she can get two hands down the waist band of those trousers now....as that thought started to turn my stomach she cheerfully looked up at me, with this about 12 faces looked round at me. The cheerful woman cheerfully shouted out to me “Hello come in we won’t bite you don’t be shy” I smiled nervously back and made the dreaded mistake............”I wonder if you can help me” I blurted out. “ Of course we can ...we were like you only a few weeks ago” Oh really I thought ,I’m just big boned. I tried to explain why I was there but within seconds I was sat down in the horseshoe looking as depressed as the rest of the group . The group all looked at me and were urging me on ......finally I said my name. this was met with a murmur and nods of approval I felt like saying
“ and yes...I ..... I’m .... I’m a....a...f..f...f......fat bastard”
I imagined that this would be met with applause and supportive back slapping so I refrained...........Being totally freaked by the whole ordeal I ran for the door. I heard one of the group say to another “Isn’t it a shame when people can’t come to terms with their weight”
Having a close call like that I felt the need to go and get a fix........Greggs do a great two for one deal on sausage rolls.
Wednesday, 28 February 2007
The wait is over
I awoke in my usual semi Neanderthal man state at stupid o’clock yesterday morning. My little girl had a serious miss cue with her early morning wee... in football terms it hit the woodwork and trickled out for a corner. Unfortunately I stood straight in it with my bare feet. As I enjoyed the first moments of a brand new day cleaning wee ...my thoughts first went to ... “am I at work today?” then “what day is it?” and “Who am I?“ Then it hit me like a cold wet kipper slapped around the chops!!!
It’s the 26th of February !!!It’s the 26th of February!!!! February 26th ...the 26th day of February!!!!
The children were fed watered and dressed in record time...I dropped My 5 year old Rocker to school ignoring his protests of “But Daddy there’s no one here ? I’m too early” ...”Rubbish son it shows your keen” I raced back to the car, my little girl firmly tucked underarm like a rugby ball in the hands of Jona Lomu hurtling towards the line, firmly knocking over the earliest of Teachers turning up at school in my haste to get back to the car. The car!.....this morning it was thunderbird 1. Screaming into Tesco’s car park, Thunderbird 1 expertly parked in the parent and child spot...I hurry into the shop....ahhhhhh !!!! parent and child spot...better bring the child in with me. Making my apologies and bribes for her not to tell Mummy if I buy her some choccy buttons. I try to explain to a bewildered 2 year old the significance of the 26th of February 2007. She chuckles at me as if to say “Dad you have finally said goodbye to the very loose grip on reality you had, haven‘t you ?”
Second isle after the magazines I know it will be there with my name on it. My heart is beating as my eyes scan the display, there it is .....Kaiser chiefs new CD Yours truely angry mob.
Fed up of me sulking and moping around the house dropping subtle hints like “I am gutted we didn’t get tickets for the Kaisers gig” Wifey battled it out with other bidders on ebay to win us two tickets to see the them this Sunday at Shepherds Bush Empire......now I had their second album in my grasp.....I felt like Gollam. My precioussssss There were only a few copies left! What if the Warfield Massif were to turn up and try to get my copy. I did the one handed two year old little girl scoop again and marched off to the till point proudly paid for my booty and went home and played it over and over again.
This morning as I drove to work at even more stupid o’clock than yesterday the Kaisers were pumping on the car stereo. The car had returned back to it’s former glory ........losing the thunderbird status which was a relief as I was getting weird looks counting down from 5 to 1 to pull out of car parks and acknowledging rare London motorist Courtesy with a loud “F.A.B.!” I arrive at work saddened by the fact that It would be another 9 hours til I heard the album on the way home. couldn’t possibly play it in the office ...a sudden outbreak of morale would be stamped on immediately.
Good news! SJ tells me her friend Dominic ( yes contrary to popular belief she has one.) can play the drums and she reckons he’s pretty good. He has no drums though ..but might be able to borrow a set of electronic ones . I ask SJ if they sound like “booof boof powwwwwwww!” she replies “no more like Bishhht bissssssssssht paaaaaaaanggggg” “oh so that’s ok then” I reply thinking that the last ten seconds sounded like a dated black and white Monty Python scene. I finish my conversation hanging to the thought of Hot Machero becoming a quartet. Better still him being younger than SJ the average age of the band will plummet into the 20s.
It’s the 26th of February !!!It’s the 26th of February!!!! February 26th ...the 26th day of February!!!!
The children were fed watered and dressed in record time...I dropped My 5 year old Rocker to school ignoring his protests of “But Daddy there’s no one here ? I’m too early” ...”Rubbish son it shows your keen” I raced back to the car, my little girl firmly tucked underarm like a rugby ball in the hands of Jona Lomu hurtling towards the line, firmly knocking over the earliest of Teachers turning up at school in my haste to get back to the car. The car!.....this morning it was thunderbird 1. Screaming into Tesco’s car park, Thunderbird 1 expertly parked in the parent and child spot...I hurry into the shop....ahhhhhh !!!! parent and child spot...better bring the child in with me. Making my apologies and bribes for her not to tell Mummy if I buy her some choccy buttons. I try to explain to a bewildered 2 year old the significance of the 26th of February 2007. She chuckles at me as if to say “Dad you have finally said goodbye to the very loose grip on reality you had, haven‘t you ?”
Second isle after the magazines I know it will be there with my name on it. My heart is beating as my eyes scan the display, there it is .....Kaiser chiefs new CD Yours truely angry mob.
Fed up of me sulking and moping around the house dropping subtle hints like “I am gutted we didn’t get tickets for the Kaisers gig” Wifey battled it out with other bidders on ebay to win us two tickets to see the them this Sunday at Shepherds Bush Empire......now I had their second album in my grasp.....I felt like Gollam. My precioussssss There were only a few copies left! What if the Warfield Massif were to turn up and try to get my copy. I did the one handed two year old little girl scoop again and marched off to the till point proudly paid for my booty and went home and played it over and over again.
This morning as I drove to work at even more stupid o’clock than yesterday the Kaisers were pumping on the car stereo. The car had returned back to it’s former glory ........losing the thunderbird status which was a relief as I was getting weird looks counting down from 5 to 1 to pull out of car parks and acknowledging rare London motorist Courtesy with a loud “F.A.B.!” I arrive at work saddened by the fact that It would be another 9 hours til I heard the album on the way home. couldn’t possibly play it in the office ...a sudden outbreak of morale would be stamped on immediately.
Good news! SJ tells me her friend Dominic ( yes contrary to popular belief she has one.) can play the drums and she reckons he’s pretty good. He has no drums though ..but might be able to borrow a set of electronic ones . I ask SJ if they sound like “booof boof powwwwwwww!” she replies “no more like Bishhht bissssssssssht paaaaaaaanggggg” “oh so that’s ok then” I reply thinking that the last ten seconds sounded like a dated black and white Monty Python scene. I finish my conversation hanging to the thought of Hot Machero becoming a quartet. Better still him being younger than SJ the average age of the band will plummet into the 20s.
Monday, 26 February 2007
Acoustic Bass RIP
As wifey described when she took over the Blog I had an argument with my Acoustic Bass. It was getting the better of me so I enlisted her back up and attacked it in a pincer movement.
There was a problem with vibration along the fret board. Technically I believe it is called “shagged ” I purchased it for a measly £47 from e-bay. It might as well arrived in a box marked “Acme shagged Bass” to be fair it looked great but it was vibrating more than an Ann Summer’s rep’s brief case. On closer inspection the paintwork wasn’t great and I played with the truss rod (Hey I’ve left the Ann Summers bit now!!!) Which helped in reducing the vibration. It became a constant feature in the back of Eddy (our legendary 1973 VW Camper) on camping trips together with wifey’s acoustic guitar. On many a summers evening ,the gentle picking of guitars could be heard around a burning camp fire as wisps of smoke lofted into the air from behind the green VeeDub (no we weren't’ smoking funny fags) the smell of roasted marsh mellows complimenting the quiet as mother nature set about putting the countryside to sleep ............................only to be interrupted by the clanking and vibrating of a sausage fingered bass player (aka yours truly) on this acoustic Bass.
It’s a Swift by brand and the only place it is going is swiftly in the bin. But never fear...the London Guitar show is on in April and as wifey is the bestest wifey in the world she is going to allow me to get a decent one. If I’m a good boy!
There was a problem with vibration along the fret board. Technically I believe it is called “shagged ” I purchased it for a measly £47 from e-bay. It might as well arrived in a box marked “Acme shagged Bass” to be fair it looked great but it was vibrating more than an Ann Summer’s rep’s brief case. On closer inspection the paintwork wasn’t great and I played with the truss rod (Hey I’ve left the Ann Summers bit now!!!) Which helped in reducing the vibration. It became a constant feature in the back of Eddy (our legendary 1973 VW Camper) on camping trips together with wifey’s acoustic guitar. On many a summers evening ,the gentle picking of guitars could be heard around a burning camp fire as wisps of smoke lofted into the air from behind the green VeeDub (no we weren't’ smoking funny fags) the smell of roasted marsh mellows complimenting the quiet as mother nature set about putting the countryside to sleep ............................only to be interrupted by the clanking and vibrating of a sausage fingered bass player (aka yours truly) on this acoustic Bass.
It’s a Swift by brand and the only place it is going is swiftly in the bin. But never fear...the London Guitar show is on in April and as wifey is the bestest wifey in the world she is going to allow me to get a decent one. If I’m a good boy!
Saturday, 24 February 2007
He has no inspiration!!!
Well today wifey writes on the blog.
Husband has run out of inspiration. Having now been off work for two days poorly (of course with the worse illness ever as he is a man) he is bored. I don't know how he is bored with a million and one domestic chores to do around the house but of course I forgot he is ill.
Well as I write he is lying on the floor trying to measure the angle of the neck of his acoustic bass and trying to see if he can adjust it so that it does not rattle when he plays certain songs. He has resorted to taking our sons book about guitars that he got for Christmas and trying to see if this will help. I fear more expense as after this I am sure that he will need a new acoustic bass...
Well after a rendition of Green Days "when Spetember ends" which was certainly sounded as though it would never end I am not sure if there is any more practice today.
This followed my practice on the saxophone of "The Dam Busters" and then flying around the house with the kids pretending to be planes doing a fly past dad for a good night kiss and then back to bed. Not sure that it really helped to settle them down for the night but hey.
OOPs as I thought things are going wrong and husband has lost his small screwdrivers and cursing out loud.
Best go
Husband has run out of inspiration. Having now been off work for two days poorly (of course with the worse illness ever as he is a man) he is bored. I don't know how he is bored with a million and one domestic chores to do around the house but of course I forgot he is ill.
Well as I write he is lying on the floor trying to measure the angle of the neck of his acoustic bass and trying to see if he can adjust it so that it does not rattle when he plays certain songs. He has resorted to taking our sons book about guitars that he got for Christmas and trying to see if this will help. I fear more expense as after this I am sure that he will need a new acoustic bass...
Well after a rendition of Green Days "when Spetember ends" which was certainly sounded as though it would never end I am not sure if there is any more practice today.
This followed my practice on the saxophone of "The Dam Busters" and then flying around the house with the kids pretending to be planes doing a fly past dad for a good night kiss and then back to bed. Not sure that it really helped to settle them down for the night but hey.
OOPs as I thought things are going wrong and husband has lost his small screwdrivers and cursing out loud.
Best go
Friday, 23 February 2007
Don't do F s
Now the title of this blog is not Health advice from the Dyslexic Night clubbers Society. It is in direct reference to my Mandolin playing. I only picked it up since the beginning of January as a night time instrument so the neighbours get some respite from my bass and I have found most notes easy enough to play a, c, d, g am, dm with my eyes shut then along came F.
I’ve decided that F chord was designed as a torture used by mandolin teachers to punish their young students should they play anything remotely trendy and non blue grass. My locker room buddy James rattles off REM’s classic “Losing my religion” easily “F”s and everything. I am refusing to play it, as it has too many “F”. I don’t do “F”s. I leaf through all these chord books but on the sight of “F”s the tune in questioned gets put into the “what a load of crap” pile along with any Westlife tunes. I don’t do F ***n Westlife either.
F featured a lot in my life this week. I have an F*** n Viral infection which has made me look like the F*** n elephant man. I dropped The F*** n microphone that SJ used in rehearsals the other day and it is now F*** d. I have been advised by wifey to be more F*** n careful. Even mother dearest is at it!!!!!!.
On arrival at Sainsburys she realised that she had forgotten her shopping list she had carefully prepared so as not to forget anything (especially her Newky Brown!) a loud resounding “F” bellowed out drowning out Sting on my car stereo. Thing is, my car window was open and the poor car washer bloke who was touting for work in Albanian got startled and stepped into his bucket of cold water and said “oh Z***”. (That’s Albanian for “F***”).
Any way back to the music.......the band is now a threesome. SJ is now on board the good ship Hot Machero. We set her up with a Mic ,a stand and an I-tunes backing track. I plugged in, and started to belt out Sing by Travis. The intro started I made the first booming sounds on my E string, looked over to SJ, in her eyes she had a look of pure determination to make this song her own ,to make an impression, get the band going......after all, the last time she performed live she sang “If you wanna be my lover” by the Spice girls.....(something that the Spice Girls never did ) I nod to SJ to get her started on cue she opened her mouth and then ..............looked like my in law’s gold fish.... bob..... bob .....“maybe I should turn your amp on SJ” I think it was at that point she stopped practicing her victory speech for next years Brit awards. With all the equipment checked SJ was put through her paces and a productive session it was too. That evening Hot Machero performed in front of Wifey’s older brother and family. We played Green Day’s, good riddance time of your life joined by our 5 year old rocker on backing vocals. We were encouraged by our performance and Hi 5s ,yee hars , hugs and kisses were the order of the day. We turned in unison to thank our audience.........they took their fingers out of their ears and said it was good.....
Any way I’m off to curl up again in front of the telly............................. I F*** n ache.
I’ve decided that F chord was designed as a torture used by mandolin teachers to punish their young students should they play anything remotely trendy and non blue grass. My locker room buddy James rattles off REM’s classic “Losing my religion” easily “F”s and everything. I am refusing to play it, as it has too many “F”. I don’t do “F”s. I leaf through all these chord books but on the sight of “F”s the tune in questioned gets put into the “what a load of crap” pile along with any Westlife tunes. I don’t do F ***n Westlife either.
F featured a lot in my life this week. I have an F*** n Viral infection which has made me look like the F*** n elephant man. I dropped The F*** n microphone that SJ used in rehearsals the other day and it is now F*** d. I have been advised by wifey to be more F*** n careful. Even mother dearest is at it!!!!!!.
On arrival at Sainsburys she realised that she had forgotten her shopping list she had carefully prepared so as not to forget anything (especially her Newky Brown!) a loud resounding “F” bellowed out drowning out Sting on my car stereo. Thing is, my car window was open and the poor car washer bloke who was touting for work in Albanian got startled and stepped into his bucket of cold water and said “oh Z***”. (That’s Albanian for “F***”).
Any way back to the music.......the band is now a threesome. SJ is now on board the good ship Hot Machero. We set her up with a Mic ,a stand and an I-tunes backing track. I plugged in, and started to belt out Sing by Travis. The intro started I made the first booming sounds on my E string, looked over to SJ, in her eyes she had a look of pure determination to make this song her own ,to make an impression, get the band going......after all, the last time she performed live she sang “If you wanna be my lover” by the Spice girls.....(something that the Spice Girls never did ) I nod to SJ to get her started on cue she opened her mouth and then ..............looked like my in law’s gold fish.... bob..... bob .....“maybe I should turn your amp on SJ” I think it was at that point she stopped practicing her victory speech for next years Brit awards. With all the equipment checked SJ was put through her paces and a productive session it was too. That evening Hot Machero performed in front of Wifey’s older brother and family. We played Green Day’s, good riddance time of your life joined by our 5 year old rocker on backing vocals. We were encouraged by our performance and Hi 5s ,yee hars , hugs and kisses were the order of the day. We turned in unison to thank our audience.........they took their fingers out of their ears and said it was good.....
Any way I’m off to curl up again in front of the telly............................. I F*** n ache.
Wednesday, 21 February 2007
Locker room liaisons
I think my boss is getting suspicious. He caught me looking at James today. James looked back from over the computer and he knew what I was thinking. He nodded and I left the room. James allowed a few seconds and we disappeared together into the locker room. It happens quite a lot and to his horror he over hears that we are to be joined by Wayne. Soon our talk of plank spanking in the locker room is going to make him so suspicious and curiosity will get the better of him.
No one so far has questioned it.......the office next to the locker room must have heard James ‘ wailing to “losing my religion “ while strumming away on his mandolin. I manage “In to the deep” by Kula Shaker on my Mandolin.( picked that up six weeks ago) James plucks some Blue grass tunes out with swift little fingers but stops suddenly as the locker room door opens. Two heads pop up over the lockers to see who it is?.like two naughty school boys caught smoking behind the bike shed....It’s only Carl he sits and listens. James goes into overdrive and his pick zips about his mandolin. It’s time to go back upstairs.....ho hum.....same time same place tomorrow we all decide. As we gingerly leave the locker room one by one.
Our return to the office is met with a curious half glance from the boss...I think he is half frightened to come and see what we are up to......I say “ that was some sweet music we made James” The boss chokes on his tea spraying it all over his shirt.
Cracked ABACAB...by the way and I did it without the aid of tab.......Hoorah!!!!!!!!!!!
No one so far has questioned it.......the office next to the locker room must have heard James ‘ wailing to “losing my religion “ while strumming away on his mandolin. I manage “In to the deep” by Kula Shaker on my Mandolin.( picked that up six weeks ago) James plucks some Blue grass tunes out with swift little fingers but stops suddenly as the locker room door opens. Two heads pop up over the lockers to see who it is?.like two naughty school boys caught smoking behind the bike shed....It’s only Carl he sits and listens. James goes into overdrive and his pick zips about his mandolin. It’s time to go back upstairs.....ho hum.....same time same place tomorrow we all decide. As we gingerly leave the locker room one by one.
Our return to the office is met with a curious half glance from the boss...I think he is half frightened to come and see what we are up to......I say “ that was some sweet music we made James” The boss chokes on his tea spraying it all over his shirt.
Cracked ABACAB...by the way and I did it without the aid of tab.......Hoorah!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, 20 February 2007
Jam and Martians
Wifey forgot an important document that she need urgently at work today. After juggling the school run and apologising to the teacher for our tardiness I couldn't help wonder as I hurtled towards her work to bail wifey out, I wondered if any other of my rock heroes have this problem of their practice time severely hampered by stuff like kids ,traffic, work absent minded wives. The thought of Bono panicking to get a parking spot near to the school and running the kids off their feet as they bundle through school reception tickles me as my thoughts turn to music again....Then a quick pop into Woking the home of Paul Weller of the jam and War of the worlds. The glittering martian fighting machine statue welcomes visitors to this town. It is hard for the Woking ites to stomach that not much really happens there....I mean they treat HG Wells's classic like it really happened that Martians really did land at Horsell Common at the turn of the last century. It's so boring you just have to see the look on Weller's face ,have you ever seen him smile?......my point exactly. People of Woking........you live in a boring town..deal with it!
Today I am practicing ABACAB the genesis classic.......I am trying to read bass cleff it takes me a long time ...sod it! there must be a tab on the Internet somewhere. Wifey plays the keyboard to this and thinks it could be a Hot Machero song....Genesis must be quaking in their boots....
We have found a singer.....our niece SJ. She meets all the pre requisites.....fun,young (will reduce the average age of the band considerably) and mad as a box of frogs. Oh yes and I seem to remember that a few years ago at Karaoke on her 16 th birthday she sang "genie in a bottle" half decently....sold! she got the job rehearsals start this week.
Today I am practicing ABACAB the genesis classic.......I am trying to read bass cleff it takes me a long time ...sod it! there must be a tab on the Internet somewhere. Wifey plays the keyboard to this and thinks it could be a Hot Machero song....Genesis must be quaking in their boots....
We have found a singer.....our niece SJ. She meets all the pre requisites.....fun,young (will reduce the average age of the band considerably) and mad as a box of frogs. Oh yes and I seem to remember that a few years ago at Karaoke on her 16 th birthday she sang "genie in a bottle" half decently....sold! she got the job rehearsals start this week.
Sunday, 18 February 2007
return to teenage
It was with great surprise when my musically talented wife bought me my Bass guitar the christmas before last. With the fear that it would be discarded as a useless piece of wood quicker than left over turkey she taught sausage fingers to play a tune. With or without you ...U2 classic. Hooked from that moment so, along with her saxaphone, clarinet, piano accordian, mandolin banjo, guitar, electric guitar, keyboard and various pipes whistles and bells proudly sat my bass.
A year on and our first gig in our 5 year old's christmas play "the little star that fell" we belted out timeless classics such as........"Wibbly wobbly strawberry Jelly" Our 5 year old knew all the words, our 2 year old little princess knew the words, Nanna, Nanny and Grandad, our work colleagues and our poor suffering neighbours knew the ruddy words by Christmas.....We must have done alright though as we have been invited back for the summer play hurrah!
The PTA collared us and we are performing at the school fete......today Bracknell tomorrow....probably Bracknell.
It is near impossible to start as a novice musician in a band aged 35. Most crap or inexperienced musicians (of which i can be either or) are young teenagers belting out maximo park badly and advertise for bass players between the age of 18 to 25. Rats!!! not enough hair to pass that one off. Any band that is over 30 expect John Entwhistle re incarnate (The WHO bassist ). Which I definately cannot pull off.
So we are going to form a band....my wife and I. so what do we call ourselves? many names ran through our brains and ran straight out in fear of what they saw in there. Until one day our 5 year old protege was strumming his Electric strat around the front room and said "my band is going to be called Hot Machero" Eureka!!!!!!!!!!!! one phone call later to wifey who was busy at work and The Hot Machero were born.......we made a list of priorities
we need a singer.......a drummer....talent.....ah yes ....and some front.
A year on and our first gig in our 5 year old's christmas play "the little star that fell" we belted out timeless classics such as........"Wibbly wobbly strawberry Jelly" Our 5 year old knew all the words, our 2 year old little princess knew the words, Nanna, Nanny and Grandad, our work colleagues and our poor suffering neighbours knew the ruddy words by Christmas.....We must have done alright though as we have been invited back for the summer play hurrah!
The PTA collared us and we are performing at the school fete......today Bracknell tomorrow....probably Bracknell.
It is near impossible to start as a novice musician in a band aged 35. Most crap or inexperienced musicians (of which i can be either or) are young teenagers belting out maximo park badly and advertise for bass players between the age of 18 to 25. Rats!!! not enough hair to pass that one off. Any band that is over 30 expect John Entwhistle re incarnate (The WHO bassist ). Which I definately cannot pull off.
So we are going to form a band....my wife and I. so what do we call ourselves? many names ran through our brains and ran straight out in fear of what they saw in there. Until one day our 5 year old protege was strumming his Electric strat around the front room and said "my band is going to be called Hot Machero" Eureka!!!!!!!!!!!! one phone call later to wifey who was busy at work and The Hot Machero were born.......we made a list of priorities
we need a singer.......a drummer....talent.....ah yes ....and some front.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)