I managed to avoid most of the Happy Day on Friday and took the opportunity instead to indulge in some overdue guitar practice knowing full well that my wife, Fi, would watch enough for both of us. My plans for a long bike ride came to nought due to last minute changes but that didn’t bother me given that I had a good fall-back position.
The village, like many others, had planned a range of fun events around a street party for the kids. The much-forecast rain held off and it would appear everyone had a lovely day.
In the evening our local pub was heaving with punters for it’s “Royal Variety Show/ X-Factor” extravaganza where anyone who fancied could do a “turn” in front of a panel of celebrity judges – four of the organisers behind card face masks of Simon Cowell, Cheryl Cole, The Queen and Prince Charles.
I have to say I was impressed by some of the youngsters who climbed on stage to sing. Having been X-Factor-ed since birth they were taking this seriously and despite a strong leaning towards Adele-alikes some of them were quite good. Given that we haven’t been here for very long I hadn’t yet announced my presence as a musician so I thought now would be a fun time to do it.
At such impromptu events my stock party-piece is a cover of Loudon Wainwright III’s “Swimming Song” which I camp up into more of a comedy number suitable for all ages.
Catch the man himself performing it here…………http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdfXHWUKm-8
I took the stage to cheers from my wife and her sister and a couple of friends, and an indifference from the babbling rabble who were slowly getting drunker.
I ploughed on. Not my best performance, I admit, but good enough for this event.
“Cheryl Cole” thought I was okay but didn’t like one of the “gags”. (?)
“The Queen” thought I was great. Thank you Your Royal Highness.
“Simon Cowell” thought I was the worst thing he’d ever heard.
By which time I’d left the stage and didn’t hear what “Prince Charles” had to say.
It was a fun night, Royal Wedding forgotten and now everyone was just enjoying a packed pub and several pints of warm ale.
Come closing time I found myself suddenly cornered by the Landlady. It appears that it was our Hostess herself who was behind “The Queen” mask and she repeatedly expressed her enjoyment of my performance and would I come and do a full session at the pub next month – a paying gig !!
Delighted – I agreed…. and Fi and I saunted home into the night, guitar case in hand, feeling pretty smug and pleased with an evening’s work and socialising done. So, “In yer face, Simon Cowell” , as Homer would say.
Now then, at what point should I tell my lovely Hostess that I don’t really do comedy ?!