So on Sunday I drove out to Picton for a gig at the George IV Inn. I always find it sort of strange when pubs are named after departed Monarchs. I mean i can sort of get where they are coming from, but why did they pick George IV I wonder? What was wrong with the first 3? Was there more than 4? Did the 4th one cut off his wive's heads? No that was Henry. There was 8 of him. That's a lot of Henrys.
Anyway - the 90min drive was fairly uneventful as far as drives go, but I wasn't expecitng to find a biker pub awaiting my arrival. Yes a biker pub. Not bad bikies necessarily, just a popular motorbike touring stop.But you know the bikes - they have been in the news for the wrong reasons. So wrongly or rightly, there was a touch of apprehension when I pulled up in my 86 Toyota Corona and started to unload my gear wearing Thongs, Jeans, a T-Shirt and a Japanese Baseball Cap.
As it turned out, the gig wasn't really too bad. At least once I learned to deal with the sound of Harleys pulling in and out for the whole time I was there. Fortunately they made the most noise at the parts of the songs i have the most trouble singing. Which was fairly convenient. And you know what, apart from the racket I really didn't think I was playing too badly until, about half way through my 2nd set, there was a big commotion outside the entrance to the pub and everyone started running towards a ute.
As I was singing away, I managed to figure out what the problem was. A small dog had decided to jump off the back of the ute when he was still tied to it by his collar, hence tempoarily leaving himself suspended in mid-air, struggling to draw breath. I have had my knockers folks, but never before has any living creature decided that what I had to offer was SO bad, they would rather die than listen to the rest of my set. I do believe that's world first. If anyone else can claim to have had a dog attempt suicide at their gig, then please let me know. Maybe we can swap stories over a beer at the George IV Inn sometime.
After contemplating retirement the entire way home, I have decided to press on, knowing that the chances of running into my friend Fido from Picton are fairly slim from this point onwards. You may be interested to know, on a more positive note, that the humans at the pub didn't seem to mind what I was doing. Although I may have had to call on Crowded House once or twice...
Album News:
The Whooping Cough is gone, the Vocals are starting to come. Things are looking up folks. Things are looking up. Would you believe I may actually finish this thing at some point. Really!
Catch you soon,
Renny
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