The percussionist

Saturday, 25 December 2010

Was in two minds whether to go out on Christmas Eve, but after a text from a friend I’d been meaning to catch up with and some Brass In Pocket, I headed Downtown for a boogie. I do love to Dance. It was a fairly average evening, up until the point I asked some guy if he had the Time – Time The Avenger on these nights when the pubs have to close at midnight.

So we got talking and it turned out he was this guy
travelling around the South Island following their recent Christchurch gig. “What do you do?” he asked me. Well I was Born For A Purpose and that be writing. So we talked some more because he’s about to start writing his memoirs. I could even tell you what the title is going to be …but I won’t.

To cut a long and amusing story short, I can now say I’ve drunk Jack, smoked hooch and talked copious amounts of utter bollocks with a muso of some international repute on the 9th floor of the Rutherford Hotel of all places. And before your mind wanders into the gutter – although If There Was A Man in this world that didn’t try it on I’d eat my hat – I declined, graciously. Don’t Get Me Wrong, if I was to get the same offer from my Johnny I wouldn't have thought twice and been in there boots’n’all. But really, I guess I'm just not the groupie type of girl.

Pretty classic today, just before I tucked into my Christmas dinner, said percussionist phones me to wish me Happy Christmas. It was Kinda Nice, I Like It. And like I always say: you always gotta expect the unexpected, because it happens more often that way. If you can identify the 10 related song titles within this post perhaps I'll even find you some sort of prize.