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Middle aged spread – the band

August 10, 2011

What has been very enlightening, and rewarding is the number of people who were interested in exactly when I was likely to be the nude male model in Marina Kulik’s painting class. I am surprised and delighted at the number of girls who were very keen to come and see me in all my glory, but that there were two males who have allegedly been enquiring I have to say was less well received, however I will not mention names, but John O Sullivan and Mr Humpheys (if he is free) may be reading this and feeling a little uncomfortable at the moment.

So 9 holes of golf yesterday morning was followed by lunch, as night follows day in these parts. That nice lady decorator was as usual magnificent off the tee, striking the ball some 180 yards on occasions, but the niceties of chipping and putting, requiring the more subtle touch leave her cold, a theme that runs through other activities in which she is sometimes involved.

How can a quiet lunch at the golf course last until 8pm? After winning by the 5th of the 9 holes, I managed to get trapped into a double or quits bet and failed to take the money, which meant my compatriots were not treated to the customary wearing of bank notes on the forehead in the traditional and triumphant manner for which I am justly loathed. That nice lady decorator had earlier dug out her golf bag and I am not saying she has not played in a long while, but the holes chewed by mice tell their own story, as my picture today shows.

Most of that nice lady decorators golf bag

My headache this morning is of biblical proportions, and all the jobs I needed to get done yesterday will have to wait until today (sorry Ken Poodle) and those lucky people waiting to discover the merits of Currencies Direct will have to wait a little longer. It was so bad that I thought I might call The Samaritans, but I heard that they have moved all their call centres to Pakistan. Nowadays if you tell them you are feeling suicidal, they get quite excited and ask if you can drive a truck.

The excitement was caused I think by the idea of putting the band back together. A couple of years ago I guided a motley collection of middle-aged rockers, who should know better, into a number of rehearsals, and even threatened to play a gig before it all collapsed in a heap. If I remember correctly the reason for the split was “musical indifference”. Anyway, time heals and with the discovery Jereon Zaat, of Riviera Home Finders, he with the rock n roll name and appearance, is actually an accomplished harp player and also knows a bassist, a gathering took place at lunch with original band members Rupert Scott and the wingco where outlandish plans were discussed, becoming ever more outlandish as more and more bottles of wine came to the table.

There was some confusion at the outset as Rupert, the vocalist (I cannot in all honesty call his croaking, gravelly, narrow range vocal delivery singing) was far from convinced that a harp player would fit into the blues and rock n roll song list he had in mind, but when he it was pointed out that he played harmonica and that a harp player is rock slang for a harmonica player, he seemed to relax.

Obviously a name for the band is very important and several were mooted, some very funny but which I cannot remember, but I do recall one suggestion “Middle Aged Spread”.

Chris France

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