Friday, 9 November 2012


Clock chucked at wall. Time to rise. Throbbing head reminds of the red wine at bedtime. Take two co-codamol for instant boost. Drink tea out of a Never Mind The Bollocks mug. Can’t remember who bought me that. Listen to Shaun Keaveny.  ‘Everybody’s Happy Nowadays’. Eat a slice of strawberry jam on seeded toast. Due to savage cuts in funding I have been lacking match fitness. Seems so long since I was last in a unit. Try to focus on today’s game-plan. Should I just stick to my usual box of magic tricks –  Dizzee Rascal’s ‘Dance Wiv Me’ meets Sham 69’s ‘Tell Us The Truth’ and garnished with a sprinkling of Bolan Boogie – or go with that new idea I have been tinkering with?
            Get distracted while contemplating the Funkadelic idea. Rattling letterbox. Homemade leaflet from local Labour representative on doormat. In bold capitals a headline screams YOU MATTER. Can you just imagine what carnage would prevail today if I said that in a desperate moment. I would never be forgiven. Another reality check. How I really did have so much work when Labour were on the throne. Think about Celia from next door and her daughter’s painting of David Cameron burning on a stake at Tower Hill. Smile then sigh, shave, shower and dry. Then dress.
            Work clobber suspended on hangers from bedroom door frame. Conservative lower deck: black trousers, black M&S shoes. Cool upper deck: white Fred Perry with claret and blue trim. Then. Bollocks. The Fred needs ironing. Don’t have time. So black polo instead. Not Fred, George. Must stay focussed. Normally always wear dark shirts anyway. To hide sweat marks.
            Tune and pack guitars into their respective zipper bags. Panic: have I got enough plectrums after last time. Relief. I got a new batch over the weekend. Appreciate how many will go missing in action later.
            Think about those two all important returning factors about today. Remember you were their age once and how your thought process used to be back then and is it really appropriate to always say this when a new group of abandoned students walk into the room: don’t be afraid of the guitars, they’re more afraid of you. Got away with it so far. But will leave on the subs bench for now.
            Been told today’s wild bunch are truly uncontrollable. Will test you even if the workshop is going well and they are responding to gentle guidance. Yes, been repeatedly told today’s wild bunch are uncontrollable There’ll be no angels in waiting. Make sure you get a good nights rest. Maybe, she said, maybe this might be the day when I finally meet my match, my reputation toppled. I know she’s just testing me. Ensuring I do not underestimate the job. Think about my lack of match fitness again then realise I am always told all this in advance. I rewind and replay my track record as I load the van with Ampeg and Belcat amps, guitars and stands. Grab the box of headphones, leads, straps, spare strings, plectrums and latest CRB check. With the motor loaded I put on shades and ‘1970’ by The Stooges. Head off into the not so rising winter sun. Another moment to be claimed.

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