Off We Go Again.

Well, after a 4 month lay off it was my first show back tonight at "Sinatras". It´s always a bit of a trial until I get back into the swing of it, but tonight had added pressure what with my back problems restricting me to a "Quasimodo" type lurch right up until a week ago, the pressure was on. There was a fairly healthy crowd in there, and a fair few familiar faces, "Sinatras" is a bit like a Club back home, with the same people coming back year on year - I like that.

I´m came through well enough without going over arse over apex as soon as I had reason to bend down as I´d envisioned, and I was reasonably well satisfied by the end.

Afterwards, when I´d got changed, this middle aged woman came up to me and asked if she could have a word. - Arh, I thought, maybe a few kind words welcoming me back, a pat on the back for a job half well done, or at worst a bit of constructive criticism. But no. (Bear in mind that this woman had just been sat in the audience during my 45 minute spot), she said "Has anybody handed a Hearing Aid in do you know?" - she thought I was the barman - or I think she did.

Oh I´ve missed all this.

Sporting Dis-honour and Back Pain.

What´s happening to sport these days? What with racing drivers deliberately crashing cars, rugby players buying blood capsules from joke shops and tucking them in their socks, and footballers diving as soon as they glimpse the penalty area? Oh yes and that “woman” athlete from South Africa who won the 800 metres at the world championships sporting a pair of bollocks that would have frightened Katie price. It´s all gone tits up – last example excluded.

On the bad back front, I bumped into my old mate “Dozzer” the window cleaner from Sheffield yesterday who told of similar woes and said he had to see a chiropractor in Alfaz Del Pi to fix his and it cost him 600 euros. (my initial enthusiasm waned). “But is it right now though” I inquired.“It´ll never be right” he replied with a wan smile. He continued. “Mind yer, me missus got run over a few month back, and now when she sneezes she just falls in a heap”. This rather put my problem into perspective and I left it at that. I´ve since gone along the self treatment route and have been performing a series of “Cat” stretches on the rug in the front room which have definitely made a difference . - Give me another couple of week and I reckon I´ll be able to sit on the fence whilst licking me genitals.
See - www.theconcertchairman.blogspot.com

Blackpool And Its Troublesome Pensioners.

Well, it’s pissing down here in Benidorm so I’d better hurry up and finish this before my electric goes off. The weather was glorious when I left from Yeadon airport on Saturday (That’s Leeds/Bradford to you), and it’s been a little, er... changeable since I got back. Enjoyed my time in Blackpool doing knack all. I’ve got a soft spot for the old place alright and it’s nice to see that they’re spending a fair old wad in an effort to drag it up from its wellington boots in an effort to propel it kicking and screaming into the 21st Century. However I can’t really condone its zero tolerance policy towards law abiding middle aged men. I’ve been left scratching my head at instances such as my uncle Eddie (who’s 65) being refused service in “Churchills” pub for having the temerity to enjoy himself, us lot being chucked out of “Flares” for “dancing too vociferously” (try doing that to “Bucks Fizz”), and me being followed to the promenade before being ludicrously accused of stealing a “Daily Mail” from W.H. Smiths by a security man and his vacant looking sidekick the store detective. That was hilarious and worthy of a blog all of its own.

The worrying thing is that I’ve picked up this back injury, not as you might think as a result of tottering down the east coast with a rucksack the same size as myself perched at my rear, or from scurrying about on all fours in my snug sized tent (there was only one bit in the middle where I could actually sit up). Oh no, that was no trouble, even the old knees didn’t come up like Kenny Ball’s cheeks and were as good as gold. No, the back went doing, er.... precisely nothing! Can’t for the life of me remember doing anything particularly over zealous, say, lifting a particularly heavy looking pint pot, or fending off one of the Blackpool Loons on giro day, but it hurts like hell anyway. It looks like being a long wait before I can resume my evening show – I’ve got a dozen quick changes in that, - but I can’t even put me socks on at the moment! So looks like I’ve got a few more mornings of abseiling down the side of the bed on a sheet first thing in the morning and biting the pillow as I stagger to my feet like somebody who has just been shot.