Well, here I am, finally back in action. We ran our bass player Stephen to the station yesterday after a Christmas that saw three weeks of non-stop music, drinking and partying, the longest evening being saturday when we managed to play until 8 in the morning. My eighty-seven year old father kept pace pretty well and amazed everyone with his resilience and ability to keep drinking until the small hours.
No crackers and paper hats this year as our normal supplier, a German friend who lives in Brighton with his Irish wife and daughter, was unable to make it.
As someone who normally eschews things fashionable at all costs, I cracked this year and grew a beard, which is much whiter than in my hippie days. It seemed the festive thing to do and made me look like an anorexic Santa.
Some friends sent this photo the other day. Just a picture of a Californian friend, TJ, who is a retired psychologist and a Siggy Freud imitator. Maybe I’ve found a new career.
Belatedly, to everyone out there, have a very, very HAPPY NEW YEAR.