Breaking the habits of a lunchtime, I sauntered into the mouldering pile at a reasonable hour.. the jam session just getting started in a desultory way, moths startled from the greasy green inner recesses of the occasional saxaphone, cobwebs on the keys, the drums sulking in the corner, that sort of thing. Even the Captain, returned from his Tasmanian odyssey, struggled to summon a sense of urgency. Summer, the flannelled fools, warm air wafting through the doors, the occasional discarded chart fluttering to the floor. I was thinking I might grab a cold one and sleep it off for a while.

It is good to start the season gently, and we would have done it but for the three trumpeters, Cesar, Casey and Lee de Bendigo, Ben the Banker on the guitar, The Hirsh, Monsieur Sebastien and Spike on drums, Gentleman JC , Kay de Darwin, Moira Oviedo all the way from Bendigo to sing, Lou the floot, Margot from Switzerland on keys, Doug Haircut Kuhn standing ready to swing up a storm, and a bunch of others too humourous to mention..

So it all ended rather well, I cannot remember the last time we had three tootmeisters in attendance, some fine music was played as only the Jammers can, nothing got broken, and much entertainment on offer for the usual amused, bemused, confused and lightly medicated audience.

We might keep doing this….