Gigged last night with beer buddies, minus percussion section on philandering leave and rhythm guitarist either in France or drowned at sea. First public outing for new song. Feels like putting head in stocks during a glut of summer fruit, but got to the end unpilloried and with fingerbones intact. Broke a nail thrashing away at the E / A / D strings but never mind.
Then an unheard-of thing happened. (Well, that's not true. The last time it happened, I was sixteen and my friend, Dave - still need to apologise to him, by the way - and I had climbed into the church through the toilet window for the afternoon rehearsal; we played our own compositions in the evening; he stopped playing acoustic guitar halfway through a song because a girl he fancied offered him a polo mint and nobody could hear his strumming anyway because he wasn't amplified, which brought that earlier career step to an abrupt ending; then a member of another band came up to us and asked if he could buy some of our songs, but we said 'I should coco' because we were going to hit the big time in a matter of nanoseconds, not that those existed in those days.)
The almost-unheard-of thing that happened was this. A guy in ankle wellies and a stetson made of straw walked over and said he appreciated my lyrics, especially I'm a lookalike companion...etc., as it 'Hit the zeitgeist right on the nose.'
Naturally, being a gentleman, I smiled bashfully and apologised.
Then he suggested, with unconstrained enthusiasm, I write some country and western numbers. Knew there'd be a catch.
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