The door to the shabby office opened slowly and a wave of expensive perfume entered. It was followed by the kind of broad that Sam had been dreaming of as he’d gazed out of the grimy window and watched the dust motes spiral in the afternoon sun.
She had the kind of legs that went all the way to the floor.
That and other asinine descriptions can be used to illustrate one of the themes of this blog; that of deception, twist and devious turn.
I hear your gasps, I feel your pain, I understand your sweating dilemma.
You’ll need to assuage your curiosity, rest your fear and supply your own third descriptor ‘cos I’ve run out.
Welcome Gentle Reader, and read on.
I imagine it would be a good idea to deal with the headline comments concerning deception first, having piqued the reader’s (Gentle and otherwise) interest. I would be bad form to move on to something else without a calming word.
This week has been another quietish one, but the last one for a while, and we have managed one or two adventures, tales of which are fit vehicles for the regaling of Gentle Readers.
Tuesday night saw Carol and Myself puntering merrily at The Daleside Arms, home of Croxdale Folk Club. We were sans instruments as we had determined to partake of the musical delights of one Mr C. Milner: Singer, Songwriter Troubadour and Raconteur of that parish. Nigel Beck was a visiting player under Chris’ wing for the week and provided a very capable support slot showing great versatility on an open tuned 12 String Taylor.
Chris was the main turn of the evening and had a decent crowd in the room – especially as some attendances at Croxdale latterly have reportedly been occasionally slight. Now this is a Good Thing.
For two reasons, the first is that Chris is always worth hearing and provides a great night of music. The Second is that he had done a lot of promo work to get folks to the gig, treading the Croxdale byways in a concerted leaflet drop to publicise the event. Well done he, says I; we (not the royal we – it’s you lot too) love to play in front of an audience, yet the audience is often comprised of other folks waiting their turn, so it’s good to see people working hard to promote their gigs. Our double header with itsAcoustica on November 23rd at The Millstone in South Gosforth is a chance for me to put my typing paws where my mouth is and try to get some publicity drummed up. So far we’ve done posters; some in local newsagents, a Facebook Event (problem is; so does everyone) and using a few of the Newcastle listings websites. So far all that’s generated is a monumental wave of spam, but – you never know. I think I’ll draw the line at a leaflet drop around Gosforth, although – who knows what might happen before the event?
Chris delivered his customary polished set, as always my favourite was ‘Gone for a Soldier’, closely followed by ‘Company Man’. Well done that Milner.
Last Friday we had a band practice at Fish Studio aka The Nugget’s Burrow and introduced our unsuspecting bass player to not a new song, but three new songs at once. Two are quite nice little numbers, a little shanty-type thing featuring (wait for it, wait for it…) a MacNally Strumstik and the third is a full on FG epic entitled The Ballad of Samuel Coles, a picture of whom is below.
At least I think of him as Sam Coles, ever since he inspired the original song Fool’s Gold, and here, at last, is his back story. Steve will now add bass and harmony magic and we’ll be gigging it any time around the turn of the century.
She looked at Sam through eyes so blue a guy could drown in them. Her vermillion lips parted and she breathed a husky request.
“Will you play a gig for my anniversary?”
Yes I know it kind of buggers the mood up, but I wouldn’t want anyone to think I take any of this seriously.
My little Chandler-esque introduction refers to an episode we had of late here at FG towers, via the website electronic contact facility widget embed device.
We had a nice letter from a lady called, well, let’s call her Rae (see what I did there?).
The thrust of the missive was would FG like to quote a price and play at an anniversary party – the writer having espied us at some club or another and liked what she heard.
I should have smelled a rat at that point really.
This we duly did, and got no response, despite a couple of follow up mails.
Then out of the blue, another request for info from the same source, along the lines of “We haven’t heard from you, getting desperate”
Getting tragic more like.
So once more, Mr Gullible sends of the information and follow up mails.
Eventually, we got a mail from the same mailbox, but certainly by a different hand – this one could spell.
It seems that the enquiries were spurious and the mailbox owner was concerned as to why she was getting all this contact mail from us – would I mind stopping!
Well, if nothing else, it shows that it pays to keep one’s email password to oneself – that way you know what you’ve asked for – and we should always be careful what we wish for, as one day…
And so as the spurious email of enquiry elicits the furious denial of service attack of response and the badly practised harmony of destiny brings the cross-eyed wince of fate from the Chairman, I notice it’s the end of this blog.
Until next time, Acoustic Chums,
 Terms and Conditions apply, citation required and other poorly attended folk clubs are available.
 I agree, not subtle, but sneakily effective nonetheless