Friday April 8th 2022.

A 7.30 start, but 30 mins got us through the AGM – thanks to everyone who turned up for this necessary if slightly tedious event, and to all who volunteered to keep the club running. As most of you know, Mike and Sheila have had to step down from their roles, but it was great to see them back in person last night. They have worked hard for years keeping the club finances in order.

Next week we celebrate 58 years of Rhyl Folk Club, and with nights like this, there’s obviously a lot more life in us yet.

We had young people in our midst!

Abbi is a long term friend of the club and always a quality turn; las night she had a couple of pals with her – Jim and Sam. Their faces were familiar, were they former Goat Ropers? I need to find out. Whatever – a great set.

Ah! Young people! A breath of fresh air! Another breath of fresh air are John and Carole in a world full of miserable cynical buggers such as me. John tried for Brownie points, saying it was 51 years since they got engaged. Close John, but no cigar. Only 3 years out. Silent drive home? Remember guys, everything you say to the wife will be recorded for training and quality control (and will be used in evidence against you).

At one point John appeared to be blowing raspberries, but he’d forgotten he didn’t have a harmonica strapped to his neck. Carole’s poem about the shrew had ’em weeping in the aisles.

Fred was sporting a bandaged arm and said he was unable to play guitar tonight. He privately told me there wasn’t much wrong but he was milking it for all it was worth, playing the sympathy card with his missus for a few days of feet up and some tlc.. Adrian, however, has been hit on the head too many times by long stick wielding Morris men and his memory is suspect.

Rick had his mandolin for “Copperhead Road” always a good foot stomper – “Devil’s Right Hand” next time?

I “lost concentration” accompanying Lesley on her fiddle tune and was accused of playing “too many notes” in “Crossing the bar”. Another quiet drive home. Alan still had a slightly iffy throat, but still makes me sound like a piece of coke ground under a door. Alun had some Tom Paxton in the style of Geoff Durno, but not as relaxing. Dafydd read some Dylan (Bob, not Thomas). Masters of War was so much more poignant when read, especially when read coherently with feeling, rather than sung nasally.

Best bit of the night? Probably seeing Mike and Sheila back.

It’s Good Friday next week so Tynewydd is closed (Council owned) – we’re having a Zoom session instead; 8.00 start usual log in, so come and join us after you’ve had your piece of boiled fish for tea. Back at Tynewydd on the 22nd.

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