From the ridiculous to the sublime - switcheroo!

This time it went the other way round - the first gig was the barmy one. Well, not that crazy I guess, but nothing like the next one I did.

This was a barn dance and I was depping on bass for a friend. She's a lovely lady, but the band she runs drives me crazy. The melodeon player is the sort of guy you quite like, but are ready to deck after about 20 minutes. He took his melodeon off, and got up to walk across the stage at one point. "NO!" I shouted. Too late. He'd taken his melodeon off, but not unplugged all the wiring that amplified it - so - with that still connected to his belt and to his melodeon, result was a big crash and the instrument tumbling to the floor, taking with it a glass of water (great on a stage full of electrical gizmatronomy).

We were on a small stage in a Church - a Baptist church. Unlucky for me - I wasn't driving for a change but this was a 'no booze' gig, so I had to put my cider tins away for the duration. We played, they danced and smiled (really, really smiled - all night long - it was scary!). £70 thank you very much and goodnight.

The PA didn't work properly (home made monitors with teak veneer front-room speakers and bell wire), the violin was out of tune (well, no friggin, monitors, what do you expect?), and no booze. Not my perfect gig, I admit.

Then - the following night! The Poozies! Ohh, yes, what a band! Two harps, guitar, accordion (well, you can't have it all), and four voices. They were sublime. And I was support act (all on my own, just me, no one else).

I did a good set I think (well, I was complimented at least thrice), and then they played fantastically. What a contrast.

Next? Next come my adventures with S - a lady from Israel who is young enough to be my daughter (I'm not ageist), a very fine guitarist, bassist and songwriter. But that's another post for another day.

From a discussion on grief

My firend and I were discussing why multiple deaths in places far away are reported so differently to those closer to home. I mulled this over, and replied as follows. She said I should say this 'out loud'. Here I am, on my blog, out loud.

We are inured to death. When we hear of two children near our town (we live near Soham), then we are devastated. When we hear of 40 children on a bus in Palestine, we are hurt, but immune. Two children taken and murdered by one man - a different set of emotions are employed. We can blame that man, we can hate that man, we can see and direct our fear and anger towards that man. He was one of us, he is the ultimate evil, a traitor.When we hear of those children far away, we understand there is a war, their country is like that, it must be awful, no one will ever be caught, and we cannot direct our emotion because we have no empathy with a Palestinian family in the way we do with someone closer to home.

It is right? No. But we do become immune to continued exposure to things that are bad. The soldier home from the war is always changed. The surgeon is used to blood. The undertaker used to death. As mothers, as people, we are made to care so that we can survive - we look out for our own and continue our bloodlines. It's as basic and primal as that, and intellect can't overcome it because it cannot cope with the extremity of the reality. If I were to cry for every soul, my eyes would be blinded by such sadness.

But my brain knows, and my soul understands. It's just that my heart is so full - it has no room for any more. One of my friends doesn't talk much about her home country, Israel. She is a strange fish, only 27 but in some ways she seems older than me. She tells us that the news in the UK is biased against Israel, and I'm sure it is. All news is biased in one way or another. Do you think I understand the Ireland situation from every point of view? Of course not, I doubt if anyone can.

There was more - but this will do for now. Comments welcome people (person? Anyone?).