Mirror, Mirror…

I’ve decided I quite like writing slightly shorter blogs.

Of course, that presents a challenge. The engagement, the entertainment value, the information level and indeed the overall quality control have to be maintained at the mind bogglingly low standard that this rubbish has come to embrace as it’s own.

So, if it’s a bit shorter, can it still be as much fun?

(look if you’re going to start sniggering at this stage, you’ll need a bucket by the end of the page, so hold onto yourself. No, not like that; for goodness sake…)

Only you can decide, so as the Oo-er Missus count already begins to soar, Be Welcome, Gentle Reader and read on…

I walked up to the mirror.

Slowly, I didn’t want to scare myself.

Trying to ignore the face that bore a striking resemblance to NASA’s high res images of Pluto, I stared intently at my forehead.

Skin.

Being my forehead, it’s a long walk to the hairline, so there’s quite a bit of skin. Plenty of room to write on, especially if the word is a short one. But no; nothing.

No sign of ‘MUG’ to be seen[1].

Strange then, because I certainly feel like I’m being taken for one such.

It started like this….

Carol has a little Thormann wedge, meant to be a small stage monitor, but sterling when pressed into service as a bass amp for her Ubass. We use a little wireless system, and it’s ideal. Quiet in operation, simple, light portable.

And a bit knackered.

It’s getting cosmetically challenged, which matters little, except that the carry handle threatens to cut your fingers off, and the foam on the grille has long left this mortal coil. It’s OK, it’s fine, it’s just a bit, well; tired.

So, me being me, and me being a big kid, I started looking and soon found the new Roland Micro Cube RX, specifically designed for bass, great sound, small, light, portable and, if needed battery driven too.

At this point, thanks to nice Mr. Internet, the serious window shopping can begin.

Click click – how much? OK, that’s pretty reasonable, what about you….

….click click, tap-tappitty, tap-tap – same price, Oh, well,

Tap tap tap… Click, same there too…

Hang on; global search… click…. What? They are ALL the same price, every single one, even bl**dy eBay!

Now, you don’t think, do you, not for one cotton pickin’ minute, that the retailers have put their little bonces together – even unofficially – certainly nothing written down lads – and decided that they will All – that’s All, every Man Jack (and Jill, let’s be inclusive in our vitriol) have fixed (is that the word I want, maybe it’s rigged or arranged, no; I’ll go with fixed) the market so that the consumer effectively has no choice at all!

I did find one well-known vendor who advertised a price £5 less than anyone else. Out of curiosity, I spoke to them.

“Oh, no sir, that’s the old price; the new price will be…”

You’ll never guess.

I’m sure I can see something written on my forehead.

This week has been quiet, just a care home played. Which has been lovely! Lots of rehearsal and playing with the bones of what will be the new show system next year[2], and some venue visits – some very interesting, not to say exciting irons have been thrust into the flames, again for next year. 40 odd shows on the books for 2016, and still booking.

Life’s not bad really.

If you fancy joining us for a ‘Stories with Strings’ show, we will be at The Millenium Hall in Riding Mill on Sat 10th October at 7.30 ish. It’s £4 mind, none of yer riff-raff.

riding mill stories poster

And so as the recently departed retailer of fate reaches the pearly gates of the local branch of Heaven Heaven, and talks to the duty St Peter, he discovers that alas, some things are rigged, and begins the long trudge downstairs.

After all, that’s where all his customers are.

Until next time, Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’

[1] Interestingly; it would have been ‘GUM’, wouldn’t it? Or is it just me that thinks it’s inetrestin’?

[2] The dining room is a mass of wires. Pedals are everywhere. Blue lights, red lights, moving lights (on the mixer; don’t get too excited), it’s great fun…

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