For some reason, I remember this one - raucous in the extreme
Had Hortense got up and danced, as she has been known to do, the odd flamenco on a busted table in the corner, it could have hardly lowered the tone of the Sunday Arvo Ballad Manglers weekly get together, at least for the first hour or two: a succession of cacophonous solos (in saxaphone-speak apparently, that means not less than two of the little darlings competing for attention) followed by some ill-judged attempts at a few jazz standards, with the occasional vocalist thrown to the wolves to liven things up. All metaphorically of course.
A fine day for it, and of the 19 musos who fronted, at least half were at some stage standing outside, to avoid the noise and watch the street footy for a while. Apparently there is something in Carlton Daft that encourages grown men to run barefoot in the street, whilst rearranging panelwork with a dusty old Sherrin. But as evening drew near, and the cold forced us all back inside, there was no escaping the dreadful racket. It had not gotten any worse, only louder. By the time Bob and I left things had got a little better, but I am reliably informed they got much better after that, and the remnant crew had a fine old time to well past eight.
Apart from the usual idle banter, malicious gossip, gentle character assassination and occasional social lubricant, it was good to see Peter Cole blowing the rust out of his sax, Kevin crooning, Gerald, Chico and the lads having a dip, Doug Kuhn (wooden bass) reduced to exhaustion, and some lively singing from Cee Jay.
So, we will probably do it all again. Except the Sherrin bit, a cricket ball is so much more effective. Summer is coming! Yay!
Sunday Arvo Jam Session, The Leinster Arms, Gold Street, Collingwood every Sunday, 4.00 until the Captain falls over.