Friday, December 8th 2017


In a cruel twist of fate, the Met Office decided to take revenge on Jeff Blythin the same day that Tom McConville and Tony Wilson were due to play at the club. Last year Blythin had written a terse letter to the Met. Office complaining that he’d just finished shovelling 4 inches of rather wet and windy from outside his house and that they should consider polishing their crystal balls with a bit more vigour in future. They obviously took exception to this and yesterday’s weather was the outcome and due to this seasonal outbreak of snow etc. Tom McConville and Tony Wilson were unable to make it to the club but fear not they will be back in 2018. Anyway, blame it on Blythin his teachers always did.
Well as expected due to the weather the turnout was bit smaller than usual but those who did brave the perils of getting to the club had a bloody good time. All turned up suitably wrapped and coddled. Ruth had a bit of a job helping Andrew remove his mittens because the string tying them together had got tangled in the scarf she’d wrapped around his neck and then tied behind his back. Frank had his balaclava on back to front, Adie had to take the snow chains of his chair before he was allowed in and in her haste to get to the club Glenys had put her wellies on the wrong feet. The room was beautifully decorated, the heating was on and everyone was pleased to see each other, the talk was obviously about the snow and the price of mince pies when Andrew our erstwhile Leonard Sachs got up to kick the night off. He did a brief review of the latest addition to his C.D. collection The Old Crow Medicine Band’s live performance of Blonde on Blonde, and I must say it’s mostly excellent.
Mr. Sachs plumped for Adrian West to start which gave said Mr. West a surprise as he was opening his bottle at the time and nearly spilled some froth form the lip of his tankard, undeterred he fought his way to the front of the room, where he admonished Sachs for chewing in class. For those in the know, this weeks’ was a Long Stick dance with a triple skip then hop. Blythin was to the fore next but had to leave the stage before he started to use the spittoon, he sang a Christmas song about snow, fires, blue birds and Eskimos – I think he’d been at the mince pies. Mike, clad in his chic Christmas top was in excellent voice. Mrs Jones’s little chocolate soldier then turned up late with a letter from matron explaining how he’d been delayed due to his socks coming down when wearing his wellies, so while he was wiping the tears from his eyes and creating a slug trail on his sleeve Brian got up guitar in hand and finger nail fully restored. As per Brian was in excellent performing mood. By now Jones had nearly pulled himself together and finished off the first half with a couple of lovely ‘uns.
Andrew and Ruth won the Pork Scratchings and Pot Noodle prize in the raffle, he he he he.
Adrian West had recovered from the near spillage of his beer in the first half and so was able to kick start the second half with aplomb, or should that be a plumb. Blythin regaled the audience with instructions on how to reduce the appearance of wrinkles; on the face that is and Mike didn’t have to use the spittoon before he started his second stint at the front. Brian bought his little box with him for his next set and breaths were held in anticipation of All the Little Chickens, but to no avail – I don’t blame him at all. Alun finished off the floor singers’ spots with his magic organ all sparkly with buttons and whistles and things that go bump in the night; then all the singers got up and gave a rollicking rendition of Sloop John B to send the audience home with a spring in their step a smile on their collective faces and thanking the good lord they’d never gone out on a date with Blythin when he was 13 years old.
This weeks selected track is by Alun.



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