Picture from Fast Find
Last night it took two bottles of Bombardier to make me miss the end of a BBC4 programme called Tales From The Tour Bus: Rock 'n' Roll On The Road, a light-hearted look at life on the road from the point of view of those artists who were (at the time) at the knackered old transit van stage of their career. As BBC4 on Friday is usually the go-to place for quality music documentaries, this was a bit of a let down. It turned out to be a show that didn't really know what it wanted to do with itself, and could have just been about life in a 1960s band on the toilet circuit. There was nothing in depth about this programme unless you're gripped by an anecdote about the time Richie Tea and the Biscuit Dunkers had a flat tyre just outside Stockport so it wasn't a huge surprise that I fell asleep.
Ideally I would have recorded the podcast today but I couldn't find my motivation once I had taken Jack out and had my breakfast. Mandi was working before meeting a friend for lunch so I collected the music together and wrote my notes (yes, would you believe I actually write notes?) and then went to town to meet Mandi. Going into town on a Saturday afternoon is something I try my best to avoid but I was in dire need of a new pair of shoes. I had gone over the acceptable time permitted to wear tatty shoes. Every Friday when I get home and take off my shoes I convince myself that I can get another week out of them, and have been doing this for at least six weeks. They also have the disadvantage of making my feet stink, I have to wear two socks on each foot when I wear shoes as opposed to trainers, which I suppose doesn't help. My shoes (not my best best ones but the ones I wear to court) have finally given up so today I had to do what I should have done weeks ago and brave the crowds and just buy some shoes. Why I waited so long isn't something I can explain as I am not anti-shopping as such, it's just that I don't really enjoy the practical side of it, if shoes were sold in record shops I would probably have been okay. Once I found a shop I had chosen, tried on, and paid for a pair of shoes within ten minutes, you see women? It's easy!
In need of some refreshment we didn't know where to go for a cuppa but didn't want to go to somewhere either busy or pretentious and as we were walking through Hockley at the time we were in danger of getting pretentious at least. It suddenly hit me that I could take Mandi somewhere I have never taken her before but left her at home countless times to go there myself, the Jam Cafe. Mandi doesn't like crowded places and gets anxious so the busy gig atmosphere is no good for her. During the day is a different story, with tables out (they do food which although we eschewed this time, I'm sure the opportunity will arise to enjoy one day) and a few people scattered around the place it was the perfect setting for an afternoon cappuccino.
Ritchie Tea and the Biscuit Dunkers is a band name I made up. It is free to anyone who wants it but I want to hear your music first.
This week's edition of The Sunday Alternative can be heard here.
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April housekeeping
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