Cold November Reign


Yes so it would seem, never fear Mes Braves, things like that do not creep under the Robson Radar easily. I notice things like November. Things that do creep under the radar include:

The exact location of my capo.

And having at length located same:

Which fret should I put it on?

Those things get under the radar every time.

And so to the blog; be welcome, Gentle Reader and read on.


This week five instead of six shows, as one was cancelled at the last minute. The reason given for the cancellation was…

…well to be fair there wasn’t a reason given at all, and it’s the second time they’ve done the same thing. H’mm. Where’s the invoice book?

The other gigs were a real mixture. Some great others less so – and the ones we expected to be great strangely turned out to be rather muted.

Monday morning very early and we were doing a Beat The Drum Show for Probus; it takes some will to sing at 10:00am. And that wasn’t the ‘very early ‘ bit; that was the getting there and set up.

Oddly, it’s still great fun.

Three Care Homes this week, with some real chuckleworthy moments. We went to one place earlier in the week and it is being ‘done out’. Actually it’s being done in, judging by the number of builders, chippies, sparkies, and whatever one calls plumbers that were trotting about; each bearing before them the tools of their respective trades.

And more about those later.

As the place is in the process of what a TV presenter would call a makeover but an Architect would call a total rebuild, there was an understandable element of on-the-fly reorganization. Thus it was that all of the residents were foregathered for our performance in two small rooms with an archway in place of a dividing wall. And it was L-Shaped, next door to the new build area. No matter, Acoustic Chums, we set up and had a bit of a natter with the residents who were like the interest on a huge lottery win, the gift that keeps on giving. In the sense that they kept on arriving, until placing the audience had assumed the appearance of a game of Ker-Plunk. One should not remove a stick from any resident in case the whole lot came down. It was a good giggle though and with everyone in good spirits, we commenced.

Well, sadly perhaps not everyone.

One resident became slightly disoriented, and not having an accurate month detection radar system, like what I have, she unfortunately lost a couple of months and was under the impression that Christmas had arrived. She voiced this opinion loudly. Really, quite loudly; she was good at the loudly thing.

Around about the same time, the aforementioned workforce, perceiving that an acoustic concert was in progress, joined in. With drills, hammers, crowbars and workmanlike imprecations from the other side of the wall, they added their contribution with commendable gusto.

Then there was a lull.

The organizer asked us if we could possibly placate things by doing a Christmas song – of course, we’d be delighted.

And started.

Then the lull stopped.

“I’m dreaming of a …”


“just like the ones…”

“There’ll be…”



It couldn’t get any worse.

Then the fire alarm went off.

Somehow we ended the song, at which point the orgainser thought it was time for tea.

And so did we.


The recording project has also moved on this week with another guide track more or less completed. At this rate I’ll be able to send rough mixes out to those happy should who said they’d help with a contribution to the project. Of the fours songs actually completely written, two are recorded with roughs for the other two also completed. Good progress and the music is something I’m quite pleased with. Definitely Fool’s Gold, but as it is a concept thingy, I feel free to break the strictly folk mould open more than a bit.

I think that is quite enough meandering for one week. Next week we are mercifully quiet[1], so it will be admin and more prep for 2015. 30 odd bookings on the board so far, and that’s mostly excluding care homes.

Hey Ho.

And so as the Care Home Musician of Destiny approaches the locked exit of destiny only to be quietly but firmly shepherded back into the lounge by an enthusiastic carer, I notice it is the end of this blog.

Until Next time, Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’

[1] Apart from a road trip to play a pub in Ayr. You really couldn’t make this stuff up.


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