Thursday 8 October 2009


Suddenly it was the weekend again and it was time for some more music.

Not seen him for a few weeks so Libido boy blew into town for the Eleanor McEvoy gig at the Irish Cultural Centre in Hammersmith, London.

We were both very excited because we are big fans of her work. Also I got a hug last time and Libido Boy only managed a peck on the cheek!

Autumn is now upon us which is a shame in many ways as another very brief year draws to a close and the evenings get darker. Which for us night workers is not too jolly a prospect, waking and working in the gloom.

There is another slight problem which I had not addressed. More on that later.

He made it several hours before the concert so as usual we went for a walk, passing as we did a restaurant with possibly a name they will come to regret given the association with death and destruction.

"I'd like to start with the carnage. For the main course, massive destruction and disease and for pudding I think I will go for the mud slide" - thank you.

We headed off for Greenwich where the smouldering remains of the Cutty Sark lie surrounded by boarding. Hopefully it will be restored to its former glory soon. We used the foot tunnel under the Thames and enjoyed the spectacle of some skaters whizzing past us.

There was also a flea market. It had little to interest me plus I find it very tricky to buy stuff and lug it around all day in case I forget it. Once I walked about 8 miles in an afternoon with a boiled crab in a carrier bag, terrified in case I left it anywhere and it was quite heavy too!

Libido Boy homed in on a stall which was selling knives as he wanted a new pen knife, the last one having been confiscated as he tried to board the London Eye a couple of years back.

He then turned his attention to a toy gun!

"Erm, you are going to find that a little bit of a handicap if we are stopped and searched by the cops".

"Just going into the Irish Centre with a knife and gun officer, nay bother!"

It took a while but reason prevailed in the end.

We wandered around so more then in the gathering gloom headed for the Docklands Light Railway and the Underground to the venue.

Unbeknown to me in the dark I had picked up an unwelcome passenger.......

I thought something was distinctly odd when we were sitting on the tube. People were looking around and seemed troubled.

LB was unconcerned. Well he was slightly. "What if she thinks we are gay?"

"What does it matter? You have a hot new squeeze. Eleanor has a long time partner and I am 'between relationships' (God, I hope so!)

When we arrived we checked with the promoter and had a quick chat with Eleanor before the gig.

Then it hit me. Aaaarrrggghh - dog turd on the banana shoe.

So try and imagine the scene. The three (or four) of us. Deep in conversation:

For shorthand purposes the protagonists will from now on be described thusly:-

EM : Eleanor McEvoy

LB : Libido Boy

ME : Me

DT : Dog Turd.

As far as I recall the conversation went along these lines:

ME : So you have been travelling a lot since we last met.

EM : I went to Uganda as part of an initiative with Oxfam Unwrapped. Then I was in Poland for a while, and fairly shortly I’m off to Spain.

LB : I have two children you know.

DT : Niff

EM : I am touring the UK in the early part of next year.

ME : Excellent we will have to come and see you. You bringing the band this time?

EM : Maybe for some gigs, not decided yet.

LB: They live in the US though as my EX-WIFE was an American.

DT : pong

EM : Did you listen to any of the late night radio when you were in the US?

ME : I listened to a lot of country and drove along weeping.


LB : One lives in LA and the other in Boston

EM : Difficult to get further apart!

LB : I take it in turns to visit them


ME : Think we had better be letting you get ready. See you later.

EM : Thanks for coming along tonight. I really appreciate it.

LB/ME/DT : We are fans!

The three of us headed out to find a pub and I made a feeble attempt to divest ourselves of the unwanted third wheel. (obvious gag "turd wheel" - thank you and goodnight)

This involved finding a patch of grass and scraping and scraping and scraping, to little effect in truth as the ground was bone dry and there were no puddles. The banana shoes also have a very complicated tread pattern so everything was horribly wedged.

You may be wondering why Libido Boy was unconcerned about my discomfiture and in fact found it hilarious. Not sure I have seen him laugh so much in ages. Still, having me as a friend is probably no laughing matter. I will tell you at the end. No peeking.

When we got back to the gig Eleanor was just about to go on.

The three of us bought a drink although it may only have been 2 and half of us by then. I resolved to keep my foot firmly on the ground to try and keep the smell squashed between the banana shoe and the floorboards.

Eleanor started with a sublime version of "You've Heard Better Songs Than This" which I had played on the show that morning, marred by some idiot who, realising he hadn't switched his phone off was trying to silence the text tone so that a loud "peep" echoed round the rear of the room.

After an all-too short set and only a couple of encores we sidled up to her as she was selling CD's and talking to other fans in the foyer.

ME : (Shamefaced) "Sorry about my text tone going off during the first song".

EM : "You were fine, I didn't hear it"

LB : "My girlfriend......

DT : (Interrupting) STENCH!

When we got off at the tube station near the rented flat, Libido Boy pointed out a shop sign which said it all as far as my life/predicament was concerned.

"So Mr Holmes how did you deduce that the butler did it????"

Libido Boy has no sense of smell.


moggy said...

WEY HEY i love this blog ,,, alex lester life in the fast line !i like the gig report word for word ,will are alex now go on a POO TOUR coming to your town surporting BATHTUB

Twilight said...

Going organic, then Alex? Doing your bit for the environment? You don't get more organic than dog doo-doo.

DamoIRL said...

Oh dear!

This happened to me once. Answer: Make you own puddle. STOP SNIGGERING! Get a large bottle of water in a shop and a bit of grass. Use sparingly at first, then it should shift.

Failing that, the nearest mens convenience and stick the show into the pan and flush, using tissues to clean.

But, Eleanor, yes, fantastic lady!

scruffy old woamn said...

This gives a whole new meaning to 'love the shoe'! So dare I say it - but love the shoe! Keeps me excellent company during long hours of insomnia.

By the way, have you ever come across a country rock band that went by the name of The Tractors? (Saw them at The Shepherd's Bush Empire in the mid-90's.) Well, you bear an uncanny resemblance to their lead singer, Steve Ripley.

tailendcharlie said...

Maybe, if you'd let LB buy the knife you could have evicted DT no problem. Isn't hindsight a wonderful thing??

tailendcharlie said...

Just had a thought......

Some enchanted eeeoooooowwww
You may sense a stranger,
you may sense a stranger
Sticking to your shoe
And somehow you know,
You know even then
That somehow you'll smell it
Again and again.