The best laid plans of mice and men
Gentle reader,
Not that mice make plans other than get the cheese and avoid the cat. Of maybe ambush the cat "I told you to only blow the bloody paws off!"
Things started off fairly well. I went to the Elephant album launch, and even bought a CD! Their be-bop version of "Milkshake" is an odd little thing, I like most odd little things (more on this when I hit Monday).
Saturday was when the "rot" set in. I hit town in time to hear John Spillanne perform. But not on the stage, he was in the makeshift Lyric FM studio set up in the old central box office. Why did the CBO shut down?
Anyway, it turned out that the generators for the main stage had failed, pushing everything back by at least one and a half hours. But I didn't know at the time. I was going around in a bit of a funk thinking that the gigs would be, well, crap. Grand Parade is not suited for a concert, and the speaker didn't get the volume as far as the sun drenched Bishop Lucey Park. Typing of which, I never made it as far as Fitzgerald's Park.
Then I bumped in to a friend of mine; Goldberg. We sort of spent most of the day pottering around. The market place set up in Patrick Street was great (a regular occurrence? Could it work again for the Uncorked Festival in June?). Well it was different and a complete hodge podge of stuff. Variety is the stuff which makes a day special I suppose.
Around then I bumped in to "K". She was a stage manager in a show (as it happens with both Goldberg and myself) and, well looked harried. She told me about the power outage, and the havoc it was reeking on the full schedule of the performers. People were being squeezed on to the stage in between their shows elsewhere that day, before the timetable flew out the window.
Anyway I can blame Goldberg for messing up my schedule in that I ended up going clubbing with him (nothing got picked up (mores the pity)). And I crawled home in the early hours of the dawn chorus.
Which meant I was knackered all day Sunday. I missed the showcase (I believe in breakfast, no matter how much caffeine it takes). When I got in to town that evening, Therapy? was sold out (no surprise there) and I decided that I'd rather head home to bed than on to the shows in Cobh. Quality movie time? No, The Librarian was having a Battlestar Galactica showcase. He enjoyed himself, I played Science Mystery 3000 on the shows.
As for Monday, well my hearing had recovered enough to head to the showcase to receive another pounding. So I arrived at An Spalpin Fanach. The showcase was in An Crúiscín Lán. The long walk made me think of certain things... Why was the St Nicholas Church abandoned? And wouldn't it make a cool conversion? And how did so many pubs end up on Douglas Street? And why is it called Douglas Street, it doesn't go to Douglas? And where did all these black clad twelve year olds come from?
The problem with an all ages gig is that it is exactly what it says on the tin. There is something entertaining about a gang of kids trying to look cool, and usually failing from giggling too much (those hardened rocker kids!). I decided not to go in. I like to lurk at the back at most shows, but in this case it would just look predatory. There are some odd little things which I won't stomach. So I wandered off, and ended up picking up a copy of Easy Riders Raging Bulls.
I was actually a good weekend, I needed more time to recover!
take care,
Will
Not that mice make plans other than get the cheese and avoid the cat. Of maybe ambush the cat "I told you to only blow the bloody paws off!"
Things started off fairly well. I went to the Elephant album launch, and even bought a CD! Their be-bop version of "Milkshake" is an odd little thing, I like most odd little things (more on this when I hit Monday).
Saturday was when the "rot" set in. I hit town in time to hear John Spillanne perform. But not on the stage, he was in the makeshift Lyric FM studio set up in the old central box office. Why did the CBO shut down?
Anyway, it turned out that the generators for the main stage had failed, pushing everything back by at least one and a half hours. But I didn't know at the time. I was going around in a bit of a funk thinking that the gigs would be, well, crap. Grand Parade is not suited for a concert, and the speaker didn't get the volume as far as the sun drenched Bishop Lucey Park. Typing of which, I never made it as far as Fitzgerald's Park.
Then I bumped in to a friend of mine; Goldberg. We sort of spent most of the day pottering around. The market place set up in Patrick Street was great (a regular occurrence? Could it work again for the Uncorked Festival in June?). Well it was different and a complete hodge podge of stuff. Variety is the stuff which makes a day special I suppose.
Around then I bumped in to "K". She was a stage manager in a show (as it happens with both Goldberg and myself) and, well looked harried. She told me about the power outage, and the havoc it was reeking on the full schedule of the performers. People were being squeezed on to the stage in between their shows elsewhere that day, before the timetable flew out the window.
Anyway I can blame Goldberg for messing up my schedule in that I ended up going clubbing with him (nothing got picked up (mores the pity)). And I crawled home in the early hours of the dawn chorus.
Which meant I was knackered all day Sunday. I missed the showcase (I believe in breakfast, no matter how much caffeine it takes). When I got in to town that evening, Therapy? was sold out (no surprise there) and I decided that I'd rather head home to bed than on to the shows in Cobh. Quality movie time? No, The Librarian was having a Battlestar Galactica showcase. He enjoyed himself, I played Science Mystery 3000 on the shows.
As for Monday, well my hearing had recovered enough to head to the showcase to receive another pounding. So I arrived at An Spalpin Fanach. The showcase was in An Crúiscín Lán. The long walk made me think of certain things... Why was the St Nicholas Church abandoned? And wouldn't it make a cool conversion? And how did so many pubs end up on Douglas Street? And why is it called Douglas Street, it doesn't go to Douglas? And where did all these black clad twelve year olds come from?
The problem with an all ages gig is that it is exactly what it says on the tin. There is something entertaining about a gang of kids trying to look cool, and usually failing from giggling too much (those hardened rocker kids!). I decided not to go in. I like to lurk at the back at most shows, but in this case it would just look predatory. There are some odd little things which I won't stomach. So I wandered off, and ended up picking up a copy of Easy Riders Raging Bulls.
I was actually a good weekend, I needed more time to recover!
take care,
Will
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