Following a very lively gig Saturday night at The Restoration in Cheltenham, I overslept Sunday morning so missed the chance to go sailing. That's the second time that's happened in the last month, I'm obviously getting old.
I was also just a little aware that I had four other gigs booked this week, each evening Tuesday through till Friday, so I didn't really begrudge myself a lazy Sunday.
It's the week of Cheltenham Festival. A gratuitous fest of horse racing and gambling, none of which I pretend to understand in the slightest, but what I do understand is that about 70,000 people descended upon the town yesterday and the crowds will only get bigger as the week wears on.
So last night was the first of the four, and it was a busy one. Body and voice appear to remain hale this morning, so whilst I don't want to tempt fate, I'm optimistic I'll make it through to the end of the week in once piece. It's significant, because the last time we played Cheltenham Festival, we did of course make it through perfectly well, but no further. The following week, they shut the country down.
So it may be one very big party, but it's also something of a grim anniversary.
To return to the previous point about getting old however, my brother has spent the last week or two digging though a collection of old Video8 recordings of the band. The footage is I think, in equal parts, both endearing and cringe-worthy. The above still would've been about 1996, at a guess. I can only estimate the date from the length of my hair and the guitar I was holding. I still have the guitar, but the hair has been, thankfully, long shorn.
Which reminded me of another song I wrote around about that time, and that I recorded a rough clip of last October, for my brother's birthday. Yes, I've always been cheap with my presents. This is "Last Man Standing".
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