Askham

It was a cold, wet, miserable Friday night in Shap as the newest member of the string section fought through the descended mist that the A6 invariably brings on a cold, wet, miserable Friday night in Shap.

An early start had been muted through ‘the loop’ several times that week, with even our London correspondent, Rob getting in on the act. Unfortunately he could not make the gig due to a previous arrangement with the local chiropractor in an ‘out of hours’ appointment, which, quite frankly had been going on for some months now, and were Rob to be married I am sure he would have a very suspicious wife. And if Robs wife were to read this I am sure he would be in even more trouble as this paragraph now categorically states that there is an out of hours arrangement with a local chiropractor which has  been going on for quite some time.

Fortunately Rob does not have a wife, which is fortunate from the perspective of the wife that Rob does not have.

To mention time and relative dimensions in space at this juncture would be appropriate, as we were amased to find a big white tardis ( known as a marquee in these parts) behind the inn. This marquee however was static, omnipresent or nay, I dare say, ubiquitous in these regions, this being the second such marquee gig we have played in Gurths back yard of late. The previous occasion being as entertainment to some Maltese Duke who is married to a queen ( this is not a reference to Elton Johns husband). The word ‘static’ in the description of the marquee does not make reference to any type of electrical anomaly associated with the shiny carpet inside and its relationship with rubber soled shoes.

As usual the strings section arrived in their own time, taking in the relaxed ambience of the occasion.

Cully's bass was spotted with a Booths receipt attached to it on stage. Confirming that Cully only buys the best quality products, whether they are intended to be orally ingested or aurally processed. There are no flies on him.

Craig made use of the opportunity to use an empty band van to move a bed during the evening (any excuse for a gig!).

Bruce arrived at half eleven to do his disco duties after a night out in Penrith and a curry.

For me the highlight of the gig was Bruce’s disco which Vinny seemed to handle very well to get the youngsters going.

Another poignant moment was at the end of the gig when there was a rather dodgy looking soaked car park ‘transaction’ involving a short bloke and a bald bloke and a sky+  box.

Of all the times we will choose to remember, I am sure you will unequivocally agree that there is a smorgasbord and plethora of anecdotal ditties which we may, if asked to express a preference, choose to remember.

And then when asked, we will say – These are the times we’ll remember