I should be a bit happy in the knowledge that at least it’s Friday today, and a weekend is stretching in front of us all. But no, I will probably be here in for work tomorrow. At least it will be quiet and I will be able to earn some extra wages as well. In all probability I will miss another ‘Thorn’ rehearsal, but at the moment, the band seems to be going through a sticky patch, and there is not much to rehearse for. So what is the point of continuing at all?
Sure I enjoy playing live and all that, but the occasions have become so few and far in between that I wonder why I bother at all. Last Tuesday was another damp squib, managing to play a couple of songs in all, but generally listening to everybody grumble and moan. Me, I just kept my mouth shut. And I missed a great football match between Brazil and Italy. No. Definitely not worth it then.
We seem to have lost that spark so cruelly taken away just as we seemed to be regaining our popularity, when Clive (drums) called it quits, and even though his replacement is more than up to the task, Clive brought with him a certain flair. Then Jade’s retirement and consequent passing away was another nail in the coffin, so to speak. We badly need a synth to complement our songs.
So where do we stand? I don’t know actually. Part of me wants to keep on playing with the band, learning more as time goes by, or simply give it all up and concentrate on the other band, primarily a Christian Rock and Gospel type, which seems to attract people who are more than happy to hear us play. I thought it would be just because of our service during mass on Sunday at ten, but no. We have experimented with a couple of ‘short shows’ at odd times, especially on Sunday evenings, and people still come to hear us. Hmm. Seems like there is a goodly amount of people who are content listening to the diversity of songs we play. Some have even asked us for recordings.
All these thoughts could probably be just musings coming from the fact that with this damp weather my arthritis is driving me round the bend with pain and fatigue. No matter how long I sleep or how much I dress up, the ever-pervading damp is still there to suck on my bones, my strength and my will to move a muscle.
And God…how I miss the sun. How I miss that great big yellow ball of relief from the blasted damp. And of coures, I miss summer, with its’ dips in the cool sea, and the relaxing evening nights on the roof, having a beer with my friends and my brothers.
Yes, I can’t wait until this bloody season is over.