There has been an interesting new development in the WithaY household.
Am I having a baby?
Why no.
Are we getting another dog?
Not just yet.
Have we won bazillions on the Euro Lottery and can give up paid employment forever?
No*.
Take a guess.
Go on.
I'll help you with a clue....it involves a trip to the music shop in Salisbury yesterday, where Mr WithaY once again proved that there is no such thing as a bad impulse purchase.
Our home now contains, as well as three guitars, a bodhran** and a selection of tin whistles, a brand spanking new blues harmonica.
Many years ago, someone in my family (I can't remember who is responsible for the outrage) gave Mr WithaY a harmonica and a "Harmonica for dummies" book for Christmas. He tried gamely for a fair while, but only ever really managed to sound like an asthmatic who'd swallowed a whistle, and gave up after about three years.
How I wept.
Yesterday we went to Salisbury for a whole list of reasons:
1) Went to the hairdresser. I had a haircut booked at Toni and Guy. Yes thanks, it looks very nice. The girl who did it was flatteringly impressed that it isn't dyed: "It's such a lovely colour! Oh, you lucky thing!" etcetera. I looked at her blonde, blue-eyed loveliness in the mirror and thought "Yeah right...like you'd ever swap." But I kept such uncharitable notions in my head.
2) Went to see Night at the Museum 2 at the pictures. Was amusing enough, but a bit of a firework display, far too much going on for any of the characters to get a chance to engage the audience. But, Hank Azaria is always watchable. Christopher Guest was completely wasted, and not in a fun way though. 6 out of 10.
3) Went to the music shop and bought some books of chords/piano/lyrics. Amy Winehouse, System Of A Down and The Pretenders, to be exact. Should be fun. I am going to force my piano-learning mate*** to play along with me.
While we were in the music shop, and I was busy buying Fender picks and music books, Mr WithaY got chatting to one of the staff. Next thing I knew, he was buying a blues harmonica, or "harp" as the pros in the shop called it, and a "how to play blues harmonica" book.
He's been practicing a lot. Already. I'll let you know how he gets on. He declared that as he now has missing fingers**** he needs a good "blues" name. Stumpy. Fingers. Lawnman. Chopper.
We spent quite a lot of the drive home trying to come up with something appropriate.
Suggestions welcome.
*Arse.
**google it
***hello Sarah!
****A bit of artistic license, but they haven't grown back yet.
4 comments:
Do his reformed fingers look like chipolatas? How about 'Chips', then?
Waaaayyyyyy to critical on the "Night in the museum" film. Next time take a couple of kids, they'll laugh at everything. Mr Guest, wasted? didn't even recognise him! Must have been paid well!
OOOOOOOOO I love the "names" of the old blues players... I'll have to catch up on "woody fingers" problem to give it a proper shot.
Blind Melon Jelly, Muddy Waters, makes you wonder what they were up to when not playing music. Or in Muddy Waters case if he was lactose intolerant.
Badgerdaddy, I will ask him. Assuming he can unglue his ears from the loud loud film he is watching.
Middle Sis, you know me. Overcritical is my middle name! And yes, it was quite funny.
@eloh, hello there! Love your blog. And yes, every name tells a story. Usually one you would rather not hear.
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