Just before midday my neighbour asked if I could help with his PC, which was displaying the ‘blue screen of death’. Four hours, a sandwich, two cups of tea, several chocolate biscuits and a flying visit from Plague later, his PC was usable. There is no such thing as a quick bit of help with PCs. I won’t grumble much as this neighbour is extremely helpful with areas of expertise I can’t begin to approach. For example, everything to do with the garden.

In the evening I played a solo set at the Listening Room. The set was warmly received and seemed to be good enough musically. I was aware of botching the closing medley of Only the Sea, Within You Without You and David Crosby’s beautiful Laughing, but I got away with it. Freebie CDs were snapped up and a few Fiction 2s swapped homes.  I have more confidence now that I can play without a band and not bore people to death; that’s a start.  Socialising afterwards, some interesting possibilities with La Sugden and the Mello Fellow. During the open mic slots I became aware, I don’t know why, of the number of performers who look only at the floor, their guitar, their fringe or at nothing, because their eyes are closed. In what other social interaction would this be accepted? (Sex, I suppose, but then again – the floor? I think we’ll change the subject.)

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