Just Another Silly Sunday

In which The Author really should have stayed at home

Where do I even start with this one?

Actually, I'll start on Saturday evening, when you'd have found me in Jac's (my weekend second home).

I had intended to watch the Shameless in the music room, but I got captured in the bar by my pal Liam (see I'll Have a Large Retcon, Please) and his parents Andrew and Jude. We had one of our customary free jazz conversations about all manner of things and a fair amount of alcohol was consumed. I spotted Phil having a smoke in the beer garden when I passed the window. I was wondering whether to drag the rest of the gang in to watch the band, when I saw Karen leaving the ladies' toilet. Cowardice is the better part of valour, so I decided to stay put until she'd gone walkabout.

It was around this point that Barrie, Paul, Farmer, James H., and the rest of the evening regulars burst in. They'd spent the day at the races in Chepstow, followed by a rare Welsh appearance by Bad Manners. The lads are all massive Ska fans, and it would have been daft to miss out on this gig. Needless to say, they'd also had a fair scoop during the course of the day.

In fact, when I popped in at lunchtime yesterday, Barrie didn't even remember saying goodnight to me when I left at stop tap on Saturday night.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I called into Thereisnospoon for a late(ish) working breakfast yesterday. My pal Christopher Pegler-Lambert is a professional actor. He'd posted on Facebook on Saturday, asking for volunteers to get involved with a photographic project he's trying to organise. It's going to be right up my street, and I know a couple of photographers who would probably be interested as well. (Stop Press: I met them for lunch today. They're well up for it.)

Liam, rather surprisingly, remembered that he'd agreed to join us as well – he's a very keen amateur actor and a stalwart of Showcase Sioegerdd. I'd suggested that the project might appeal to him as well. We had a good chat, I mentioned a couple of other pals who might be able to help out, and it seems as though Chris's idea might have legs.

We strolled over to Jac's to throw some more ideas around. Barrie was looking a little fragile from his Saturday out, and none of the others had surfaced. When Liam and Chris left to do the traditional family Sunday stuff, I chatted to Barrie for a while. I think we were both surprised when the rest of the gang rocked up. I think half of them were still pissed from the day before, and between the hangovers and the random music selections on the jukebox, the stage was set for a silly day.

Barrie got his second wind after a pint or two, and decided he was going to do an impromptu set in the bar during the evening. He put an announcement on Facebook, and I shared it, with the following warning attached:

This might degenerate into random karaoke nonsense if we're really unlucky. But Barrie's in the mood for a song, so why not pop along and have a drink with good company?

Sometimes I swear that the Goddess of Chaos must read my statuses and think, game on, bitch!

Have you ever organised a party to which nobody came?

Yeah, that's pretty much what happened. Rhian saw my post and came in for a pint. The rest of the gang were drifting off, having been defeated by two days of solid drinking. Eggy was soldiering on, though, as he's on holiday until Wednesday. Alyssa, Barrie and Amanda's younger daughter, had joined us as well. Barrie's set was working quite smoothly. We were having a nice mellow evening in good (if somewhat thin) company.

Then James P. strolled in.

ERRATUM: For strolled please read zig-zagged down the front path, bouncing off the exterior of the building at intervals.

James and I have been good friends since he joined Defcon, over thirty years ago. One of his many musical projects is Cool Beans, a very fluid and experimental band with (among others) Chris from Cripplecreek, Nick from Skacasm, and my mate Simon B. They recently opened for John Otway at Jac's (for the full story, please see the official Jac's blog, written by your humble Author). He's always been a loose cannon, with a very offbeat approach to music and life in general. He likes a pint and he likes a smoke. I've seen him stoned off his chops on many occasions. But I've never seen him as heroically pissed as he was last night. We thought he was clowning around when he first appeared through the front gate. As soon as he embarked on his major expedition to reach the main door, we knew he was in total earnest.

Had I been in barmaid mode, I think I'd have probably refused to serve him. But Amanda sold him a bottle of Spitfire, and all Hell broke loose.

'Karaoke!' he bellowed, and took control of the mic while Barrie looked on in despair. He improvised a very strange song about blue skies through the window (it was actually pissing down at the time), and then decided he was going to sing a Queen song. There's a nice white Les Paul copy which lives in the music room. It's missing a strap button, and (obviously) it wasn't plugged into the sound system. But I grabbed it, and together we 'played' the song. Well, James sang it while I mimed all the right notes, not necessarily in the right order. We did another Queen song, and then James decided to do his John Otway tribute act. He did a forward roll across the pool table, and then starting headbutting one of the pouffes. Amanda was videoing the whole thing, Barrie was sitting with his head in his hands, and Rhian was almost crying with laughter. You can find the video on the Jac's Facebook page if you're feeling really brave.

And the moral of the story, boys and girls, is this:

Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.