The Gold Street Gossip Shop

By the time we had ambled in from Castlemaine, the session was, if not full swing, at least rocking gently from side to side. After indulging Colonel T’s penchant for all things bebopped, a full contingent of bass players (Ivan), twangers (Ben and Tom), twitchers (obscure reference to piano players including, Bob, the fabulous Payet, John, whatsisname and meself) boppers (Sam, Spike, Bruce etc.) warblers (Debbie, Kevin, Charles, Chris Manetta, and Oh Dear God, whatever her name was, please not again) all got to accompany the Captain, Sir Roger de Coverley’s third nephew fifteen times removed, and Peter Cole as they played about thirty three thousand four hundred and twenty six solos.

Each.

‘Twas all rather fun, and quite how the Captain still managed to create Chaos (he’s been calling fours again) after a long day on the Jazz Festival Committee is a mystery to me.

As are most things…

See ya this week?
TW

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