Leamington Spa Royal Spa Centre Tuesday April 10th

There’s a very definite case of “ Day Off Syndrome” at work here today…..we had Easter Sunday and Monday off and now we’re trying to get our groove back !! You don’t exactly forget what you’re meant to be doing, but you DO lose the “ autopilot “ mentality a bit. There’s also a little post - alcohol sluggishness to contend with in some cases, though I’m not naming any names, Pug. As most people could get home quite easily they did so after the Bromsgrove gig but for Rodders ( St Ives ) and John ( Newcastle ) it wasn’t practical, so they stayed with the bus. However, we didn’t want to just stick them in a lay-by somewhere, so I came up with the wizard wheeze of getting John to park the bus outside my house in Oundle, Northamptonshire. Only one teeeeeeeny tiny problem…I haven’t actually moved in yet, but no matter…I have the keys and thought the lads could at least use the shower and loo. As it transpired, one of my sisters – in – law was using the place as her “ to be sold on eBay” store, so there was an unexpected three-piece suite in the otherwise empty gaff. The electricity was on as well, so they could stay warm, and there are plenty of good local pubs and places to eat. It’s a in a very quiet part of a very quiet town, though, and I hadn’t reckoned on the impact that the arrival of a bloody great green double-decker bus would have on the neighbours. They were doing everything but run guided tours to have a look at the Bogey, and I’m reliably informed that there’s one nosey old witch in particular that had to be persuaded not to call the police as she though that “ the gypsies were moving in”. Daft bat…I mean, you ALWAYS see gypsies and travellers in tour buses, don’t you ? She could apparently be spotted day and night at her window complete with binoculars, checking for signs of washing being hung out or scrap metal being bought and sold. All I can say is just wait until I actually LIVE there, Mrs Sticky-Beak….THEN I’ll give you something to bloody talk about. Just as Tomps has an inbuilt mental Wetherspoons app, so John can find boozers and someone to talk to with unerring accuracy. As I was zooming about the country all weekend I didn’t really see the lads on Sunday at all, but I’m reliably informed they may a significant contribution to the retirement funds of several local publicans. When my daughters and I turned up on Sunday night to take John and Rodders out for something to eat, John decided to pass as he had a bit of a stomach upset. I asked him if he’d eaten anything that hadn’t agreed with him, and he replied, slightly puzzled,
“ Nah, man, ah just had six pints and a curry this lunchtime….”. As I explained, if I’D had six pints and a curry at lunchtime I’d have been in A & E, but he said he’d be fine on his own, so the four of us went out for a very nice meal. When we got back he wasn’t there, so we figured he’d either gone to bed or was resting on the bus. But no. He’d had
“ a bit of a thirst on “, so he’d headed back into town for a further several pints and a cheese board. The man’s an animal…..By the time I go to the house this morning to pick Rodders up, John’s already left to go and get the band, so we drive off to get the other lads, waving gaily at Mrs Curtain-twitcher as we pass. There’s a SLIGHT logistical issue today, as we’ve got to work out how to get four of us into a three – seater van. We only need to go as far as from Pug’s place to Watford Gap services, as Nick will meet us there in his van, but it’s still far from a jolly prospect. True to form, Rodders steps up to the plate and agrees to ride in the back of the van with the gear. We surround him with as much shock-absorbent material as we can find then leave him sitting on a case like a little gnome and lock him into the darkness. Luckily the journey only takes about fifteen minutes, so the poor chap’s not too bone-shaken by the time we get there. Nick and Junior are waiting for us in Nick’s van, so we welease Wodders from his rattly tomb and decant Pug into Nick’s van before setting out on the final twenty – odd miles to Royal Leamington Spa. The last time we played the Royal Spa Centre is was, frankly, a disaster. We were only the second show in after the place had been closed all summer for refurbishment, and no-one seemed to know the theatre was open again. We’d decided we wouldn’t come back, but the management had assured our agents that all was now sorted out, and that things would be much better this time around. All of which just goes to show that you can’t believe a word of what some people tell you. I’d realised there was a problem back in January when I was trying to get information to put on the posters, and couldn’t get it. To add to the mystery, every time I asked the box office for a ticket count they tried to put me through to the management or publicity departments, and I began to get the distinct feeling I was getting the runaround, so I got the agent on the case. I then went off on tour with another artiste, and when I came back everything seemed to be sorted….except that when I rang the box office for the first time on my return they didn’t even have our show on their listings. Cue BIG ranting at the agent, who in turn dispensed an earhole-bashing to the venue. To be totally honest I STILL don’t know the full story…all I do know is that we didn’t want to start cancelling shows, so we pushed on. As we arrive at this large place today, we see a solitary poster advertising our gig, and a massive one hundred and six tickets sold. OK, so some shows will do better than others, but this is just bloody maddening….after all the hoo-hah about “ doing better next time “ they’ve cocked up again. It’s disheartening for the lads and makes my blood boil, but we’re stuck with it now….just got to do the best show we can, however many are in. The only saving graces are that they’ve got the bleacher seating in, so the space in front of the stage doesn’t look quite so tundra-like, and the other thing is that the audience themselves are suitably up for it. It might make it harder for the boys, but you’d never know it, and if anything they even seem more relaxed as there’s some quality unscripted banter flying around as well as the usual top-drawer performances. As if to give the middle finger to all the tribulations of the day, they encore with Spirit In The Sky, which always makes the crew squeak with pleasure and ensures that structural repairs to the roof of the venue will be required tomorrow. Simply spectacular. It gives us a real boost, and along with the excellent house crew we get everything down and into the vans in almost record time. Tonight we’re heading off to Welsh Wales and the majesty of Porthcawl Grand Pavilion. Let the games begin……