Don't mess with a pachyderm ...

I recently heard from our friend, Gigi, in South Africa.
She had a close encounter with an elephant.
This is her car ...

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The vehicle is somewhat dented.
Gigi, recovering from extensive bruising, sends her love and good wishes to us all.

Memoirs of a Folk-Song Collector in Rural England

Miss de Hyde has journeyed to a small hamlet in Somersetshire, in hopes to record some 'rustic songs'. Now read on...

I had arranged accommodation at the hostelry in Lingham Peveril. The Horne Goat overlooked the small village green with its duckpond charmingly indistinguishable from it due to its thick covering of algae. The manservant, Old Trouser, showed me to my room, insisting that he be paid two-and-sevenpence-three-farthings in advance, "as was the custom". Unpacking, I noticed that the increasingly sultry weather had not treated my wax cylinders kindly, and I resolved to make the acquaintance of the local butcher, with a view to my storing them in his chill room, once I had succeeded in re-shaping them to the correct profile. Somewhat fatigued by the journey, and moreso by the weather, the temperature surely having reached the upper eighties, I secured the door and removed my clothes to lay on the bed for a while in the hope of becoming cooler. I gained the strange feeling that I was being watched, but could not determine whether, nor wherefrom. I put this feeling from my mind, but became aware of a draught, seemingly emanating from a knothole in the panelling beside the bed. On putting my finger into the hole to ascertain for certain that it was the origin of my discomfort, I was sure I heard a faint cry. Stopping the knothole with tissue paper, I retired and slumbered for perhaps an hour. Pulling on sufficient clothing to render myself decent, I rang for a servant to fetch me a cup of tea. Old Trouser appeared in answer, with a bandage over one eye - an accident in the stables, he gave me to understand. Artisans are unfortunate enough to run continual risk of injury in the course of their duties, it seems.

(to be continued)

That Radio Broadcast You're Not Meant to Hear ...

I am simply an ill-informed bystander, so, rather like voting in our recent general election, the following observations and opinions are probably meaningless.

This evening I accidentally stumbled across a radio broadcast of folk music. It was hosted by a regularly unapologetic heckler at the City Folk Club. The live guest was one David, (genial host and MC.)

Ken had the incisive interviewing technique worthy of the late Sir Robin Day. Through the indistinct radio-waves you could tell that he was wearing a bow-tie and bore a mischievous countenance.

David, in the face of rigorous interrogation maintained his electromagnetic smile and, unlike that infamous precedent with an erstwhile Foreign Minister, did not discard the microphone and walk out.
Indeed, David maintained remarkable composure and, in response to questions about CFC, uttered (...err ...) phrases like:
“ … err …That’s a good question.”
“ … err … Ambition in a young person is a terrible thing.”
“ … err … not in the first flush of youth.”
“ … err … it’s really good fun.”

He used words like ‘encourage’ and ‘err … confidence’.
(“ … err,” seems to be David’s preferred introduction to any important statement.)

Both Ken and David are to be congratulated on an engaging and enjoyable piece of broadcasting. It was obviously widely appreciated as judged by the constant atmospheric crackle that could easily be construed as universal applause. I even detected one member of the ethereal audience voicing approval in impeccable Serbo-Croat.

Seriously now, it was excellent!

Ken, both in his broadcasting and elsewhere, has always been an enthusiastic ambassador of folk music, particularly for local performers. I thank him for that.
David’s musical contributions were well-chosen, a delight to hear and faultlessly performed.
‘When the Spring has Come’ was a tear-jerker.

Very well done, both.
Thank you.

Coda 30th April

On the 30th of April, we lost a good friend and supporter, and a lovely lady. Our sympathy goes to Ray Hedges and his family. Mary didn't contribute to our club musically, but was a warm, chuckling presence and adviser - even if Ray didn't always obey her instructions! Now released from earthly suffering, we hope she has music still, in her celestial dwelling. We will miss her.