With great power comes great responsibility

In my last blog, I slightly dissed Prince. The following day, he woke up and found himself dead. I realise now that I need to be very careful on what, or who, I write about.


That last blog talked about rather unfortunate gigs, in a feeble attempt to avoid answering the "What was the best of those gigs?" question.

What is that makes a gig so great?

The artist(s), because in some cases the gig might be great because of the line up (Live Aid anyone?) not just because of the headliners.

Quality of performance. It probably isn't possible to qualify as a 'best gig' if the main act stinks up the joint.

Level of expectancy. One of the gigs I'm going to talk about wasn't my idea to go to.

Context and history. What was happening at the time, and what's happened since.

I've picked out six acts, but will only talk about 5 gigs. I've seen Elvis Costello quite a few times now. Double figures probably. He's been my go-to guy ever since I first saw him in Birmingham at his Xmas show in 1980 (Elvis, Rockpile, UB40, Squeeze, Madness, Selector and hosted by John Cooper Clarke). I went up to see him at Lancaster Uni in 1984 (?), photographed the gig and somehow we ended up in the dressing room talking with him and the Attractions. The autographed ticket I have from that event is one of my treasured musical possessions.

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Last time I described a gig at an empty Manchester Poly Students Union. This one was not empty. In fact we carried on queueing outside even after the bouncers told us it was full. The same night Echo and the Bunnymen were on at the Uni SU and that's who I wanted to see, but was outvoted.

We stayed outside in the cold night air pleading with the bouncers who, after the queue had dwindled enough, relented and let us in. As you might guess the place was rammed, and we were all there to see The Dead Kennedys. They were a tight US punk band - ours tended to to be musical troglodytes with plenty of piss and vinegar, the US versions tended to be a bit more musically accomplished but less arsey - and had had some notoriety when the family of John F and Robert Kennedy tried to get them to change the bands name. Of their fast and furious singles my clear favourite is California Uber Alles, their other notable singles included Kill The Poor and Holiday in Cambodia. The band was very tight guitar/bass/drums with maniacal Jello Biafra taking up the crooning duties. I remember he wore jeans, no shirt and was quite happy to smear himself in the gob projected up by the Mancunian music lovers. Great, tight, loud band, excitable crowd crammed in like Tokyo commuters, expctation not high having wanted to see Echo. Very good.

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The second on this list was a fairly new band from Ireland called U2. It was October 1981 and they were promoting their first LP, October (ironic, eh?). This was another case of being encouraged to go and see them rather than having picked to see them myself. The venue was Maxwell Hall, at Salford Uni and was organised by the Students Union. The support acts (that I remember very little of) were the UKs very own Comsat Angels, and from the US, Wall of Voodoo. The singer in Wall of Voodoo was a guy named Stan Ridgeway who had a minor hit with a song called Camouflage a few years later (which I somewhat dig). After the entree came the main course, and by crikey did they kick ass. The Maxwell Hall had a basement so the floor wasn't solid, and all night you could feel it bounce as Bono and the lads took us through their repertoire. It was exciting, Bono engaged with the audience exhorting us to jump and bounce. The venue was small (capacity of 1200) and we were packed in.

I have this weird psychological thing about bands that I like them when they're small, and can turn my back on them when they hit the big time. I kind of like the Barenaked Ladies because they're great but never seem to have hit the Arena-time audiences that, say, U2 have. I turned against U2 in the late 80's and get rather sniffy about them playing to huge audiences around the world. I wouldn't pay to see them in an arena, but would if they played the Maxwell hall again. Setting my subsequent (slightly weird) dislike of them, this was a belting gig.

Not Salford.

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I've talked about the Young Marble Giants gig in a previous blog. A quiet, unassuming trio from South Wales playing at Rafters. Capacity 700 with a low ceiling, this was an ideal venue. We sat enthralled while they played their album, and then while they played some of it over as they had no encore.

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In the late 1970's we moved from Manchester to the commuter town of Wilmslow. The family next door had four (?) children, and I became friends with one son who was about my age. Much to my delight, it turned out that his older sister was working behind the bar at the Apollo.

The Ardwick Apollo was opened in 1938 by Margaret Lockwood as a multi-purpose cinema and variety theatre. It stopped showing films on the 1970s and was probably the largest venue in Manchester at the time (places like MEN Arena and G-Mex hadn't opened) and still has concerts on today. During a short period she managed to get us access to The Two Tone Tour, Buzzcocks (supported by Joy Division), Concert 3 (I can't remember offhand who that was), and The Jam.

The Jam was another concert that I hadn't sought out and bought tickets for, but was very very pleased when we scooted on the bus to see it. The concert was in support of their Setting Sons album so would have been late 79, early 80. Although he'd (Paul Weller) never do it, I would pay good money to see the Jam play live again. It's hard to imagine how three blokes (guitar/bass/drums) could play so loud. Because we didn't have proper tickets, once in the Apollo we had to stick to the circle. I can attest to the engineering that must have gone into the construction of the Ardwick Apollo circle as the entire upstairs audience bounced and jumped and shouted. Rammed to the gunwales, a really tight, top musical band at the top of their game.

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The Factory. Pic by Kevin Cummins

The final on my list was at the Factory in Hulme. This was the venue opened and run by Tony Wilson in the late 70's. The building already had a name - The Russell Club - and Wilson and his mates used the venue to host various 'new wave' acts. It was in an area which to softy middle class boys like me, was very scary, although to be fair I never saw anything that supported that theory. Sure, you'd be accosted by scrotes asking to lend 10p, but nothing wildly violent. Then again, I didn't go that much. It was a small venue with a capacity of about 800.

In a previous blog I talked about going to a record shop in Stockport to buy a Nick Lowe LP. Well that same shop was where I bought "B-52s" by the B-52s (including a free single) in 1979.

It was well different to the sort of thing I'd bought before. Guitar/drums and three singers (Cindy, Fred and Kate) who various filled in on keyboards, bass, cowbells and toy telephone. They were from Athens, GA, and had a kitchy aesthetic. Very danceable. Silly.

On 28th July 1979, the B-52's played the Factory and I was there. The place was heaving, the band played their music, we danced, we sang, we cheered, and I have a very strong memory of moisture running down the walls. It was epic. At the end of the gig, and as the audience cleared, I asked one of the roadies if I might have a drumstick as a souvenir. That's how I have one of Keith Stickland's drumsticks in my office at home.

There is something quite nerdy about being able to say your saw a big band when they were still wee. If that's the case then the U2 one would win hands down, but actually I favour this B-52s gig and, if pushed, would plump for it as my best all time. Early performance by a band still doing it 37 years later, great performance, full and fully engaged audience, legendary venue.

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Some other memories of gigs.

Walking through lakes of urine in the mens toilets at the Mayflower Club in Manchester while at the same time being scared, as the band - Mo-Dettes - were rumoured to have a skinhead following.

Getting backstage at the OMD gig and being given a badge by one of the band and discussing the sleeve design of Electricity, their first single.

The fuse blowing during the Selector set at the Two Tone tour and them trying to perform accapella versions of their songs while they waited for a fix

The Stranglers gig at the Apollo, where they had strippers come on and dance when they performed Nice and Sleazy, and the gig ending early when some audience members climbed on the PA stack and it fell over.

The Cure gig, at which there were no bands to support the main act, but instead a couple of animated films, only one I still remember, called Ubu Roi. Nice and arty.

Slim Gaillard, a jazz musician who I saw at the Band on the Wall. I ended up standing next to him in the gents having a wee, and lurked outside to get a pic when he came out. I took my camera to this gig, with a flash, and when I took the first shot, he stopped playing (aaaaaaaagh), came over to where we were sitting and posed. Later on during the gig he kept asking, "Where's my friend the photographer?".

Julian Cope was the lead singer and bass player with Teardrop Explodes and was famous for being a little eccentric. The band came out, and I noticed a tall wooden stool on the stage. On the stool was a bowl, and in the bowl were some wet leaves of lettuce. During the gig, Cope would take a leaf of lettuce, shake the water off it and toss it gently into the crowd.

Do you remember Gordon the Moron (from Jilted John)? There was a bloke called Gordon the Moron and he bummed a cigarette from me in exchange for him showing me the naked lady painted on the lining of his tie.

Ind Coope underpants

I went to secondary school in the autumn of 1973, and left after A-levels in 1980. During that time I managed to find a place in a musical tribe.

In that early part of my secondary career, the music was glam, Sweet, Mud, Showaddywaddy, Gary Glitter, but as I grew older it felt that my musical tastes ought to ripen. In that mid 70's period many of my friends at school had moved from that glam 'kids' music, and were listening to Deep Purple, Led Zep, Genesis, Black Sabbath etc. If I wanted to fit into their tribe, and I did, that's what I'd be listening to. The problem was, I didn't really like it. I tried, but I didn't like it.

I didn't tell anyone, but I had actually bought the first Abba album. I borrowed "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath, but try as I might it didn't work. Around 1976 there were stirrings of a new musical movement called 'Punk' but for some reason I didn't try and explore it. It was not until 1977 that I heard that grungy opening bassline.

DUM-DUM-DUM
DUMDUM DUMDUM DUM
DUM-DUM-DUM
DUMDUM DUMDUM DUM

from the Fender Precision Bass of Jean-Jaques Burnel of the Stranglers "Peaches".

I realised I had found my tribe. I wasn't A punk, but I liked punk music and spent the next few years buying records and, as you will have seen from the blog a few days ago, going to gigs.

Kids these days, as I have found with my own daughter, are a little less dogmatic about music, and allow themselves to listen to a broad church. Pheebs the other day asked me if I'd ever listened to Cat Stevens. Her play list includes Francoise Hardy, David Bowie, Culture Club, Booker T and the MGs, as well as Tame Impala, Django Django, and the Arctic Monkeys.

For a while, I would not countenance anything other than punk, or new wave. Nothing made before 1976 had any relevance. It was a great time, but I made myself blind to the possibility that other good music existed, and that was rather silly.

This blog has come out of a question from one of my regular correspondents, a Mr Barry C from RoI who asked which of the gigs listed was my favourite. What a question. Answerable? I'm not sure, but I can tell you about some of them which may help me come to a decision. Start with some which weren't great.

You know what it's like when you wake up sometimes, you can be quite disorientated? A sound, however innocuous can confuse the hell out of you. Well how does that work when you have a pounding hangover?

In July of 1982, I woke up in a tent in a field somewhere in North Yorkshire. I had been woken by the need to pee and also the rumbling, mechanical, sound of a train passing by. I lay there for a while hoping that when the train passed, I could subsume the desire for a pee and get a few more minutes sleep. The trouble was it seemed to be the longest train in the world. I was lying there thinking it must be one of those Australian or US trains with eleventy thirty wagons.

It carried on, and I realised sleep was no longer an option so put on a t-shirt, and, in my 'pub signs' underpants went to see what was occurring. I headed towards the source of the 'train' noise at the side of the field and looked over the dry stone wall to find a quarry, with a conveyor belt carrying stones.

It wasn't a train after all, and no matter how long I waited it wasn't going to pass. The fact we'd pitched a tent next to a quarry had been missed the night before, perhaps because we were all drunk as skunks.

What's this to do with gigs? Well the reason we were in Yorkshire was to go and see the Rolling Stones at Roundhay Park, Leeds. Someone in our group at my local pub thought it would be fun to make a weekend of it, so we camped Friday and Saturday night (Saturday night was when I returned to my tent to find it occupied buy the entire midge population of N Yorks), before seeing the Stones on the Sunday. The weekend in Yorks certainly was fun, what small bits I remember, but I didn't really like the Stones. I was still a little in thrall of my "nothing existed before 1976" mantra. Actually, I'm nowhere near as dogmatic about this now, but I still can't find it in my heart to like the Stones.

The other acts on that day were J Geils Band (ugh), Joe Jackson (yay), and George Thorogood and the Destroyers (ugh). So a mixed bag of a gig, in that the weekend was fun, but I wasn't that mithered about most of the acts we saw. Does the fun of the weekend as a whole balance against what wasn't a 'bad' gig per se, but I just didn't like who was on.....and I did know that before I went

One band I didn't add to the gig list was The Beautiful South. We actually went to the gig because of the support band, The Barenaked Ladies, who rocked the place. They were funny, they engaged with the punters, the music was ace. The the BS came on and seemed rather bored to be there. Like they were doing us a favour, so after about half a dozen songs we split. Another slightly odd one to highlight as bad. Perhaps a 'curates egg' is the best way to describe it....."Good, in parts"

The Manchester Poly Students Union was house in a large Victorian hall with cast iron balustrades and a huge mural of Dennis the Menace and Gnasher. I saw a few bands there (ooh, Teardrop Explodes weren't on my original list, I knew I'd forgotten a few) and usually it was pretty full. This evening, and I have no recollection what prompted us to go, there were more people in the band and behind the bar than there was in the audience. The support band were an all-female heavy metal band from Blackpool with a big hairy bloke on drums.....the female drummer was unavailable. It was odd the turnout was so low as the band clearly had a lot of support from EMI, their record label. Photos, badges were handed out, but the band sank without trace. Heard of Little Bo Bitch? No, didn't think so.

I have absolutely no idea what there music was like, but I remember it being a bad gig simply due to the lack of punters. I'm sure there have been a few gigs which have been raised by the presence of a large, enthusiastic, audience.

Two more duffers before I sign out for today. In 2014 (?) the Sex Pistols reformed and did a stadium tour. I was offered a free ticket so it would have been churlish to refuse. My recollection of gigs in the late 70's is that the music played before the bands came on was typically reggae. Nice and slow. As a consequence when the band came on the music seemed frenetically fast. The Pistols show this time around was prefaced by fast tempo electronic dance music, so when they came on, they seemed dull and leaden. The snarl and anger of the young men shown in 1976/7 just seemed pantomimic when reproduced by the middle aged men who performed for us. The gig was in the cavernous MEN Arena, which also didn't suit this style of music. Way too big.

We went to see the Damned at Manchester Uni Student Union (now called The Academy) and they were just rubbish. That's it, just rubbish.

The Damned

I also had free tickets to see Bob Dylan at the Manchester Apollo (ooh, I've see Van Morrison, that's another one I forgot from the original list) and he is infamous for croaking and groaning through his set. When you have a venue which isn't blessed with great sound, having an act croaking and groaning through a selection of 30 years, it's a waste. I can claim to having seen him though, so it wasn't a complete waste.

I also rather inadvisably went to see Prince at Maine Road when I hadn't listened to a single Prince records. It all passed me by, I'm afraid.

next time I'll describe some of the better gigs. Will I be able to nominate one as "the best"? Watch this space....

Marcus Rashford and a bad back (mine, not his)

Last weekend was a very exciting one as Caitlin and Andy moved into their newly renovated house. The main events took place on Friday and Saturday and there were loads of people to help.

We were there all day Friday, and then they came back and stayed with us for the night as neither their house or flat was really fit to stay in. We went over on Saturday morning with a tray of bacon butties and helped until just after lunch at which point we headed off for the tram to Old Trafford.

A neighbour of ours had come over and asked if we wanted to borrow their season tickets that they were unable to use. Gel hadn't been to a game for years, so we thought we'd take up their kind offer to see United play the mighty (ahem) Aston Villa.

And it was quite fun, even if the game itself was dreadful, enlivened by a nicely taken goal from wunderkind Marcus Rashford.

After the game we headed back to Sale, avoiding the one or two rather grumpy (and drunk) Villa fans, where we finished off the move, failing miserably to shift a sofa from one room to another. Rather unfortunately there was no way we could get it into its proper place in the living room. We did manage to make a mess of some walls and the sofa itself.  :0(

After a meal with Caitlin and Andy, Andy's parents, his brother and his girlfriend, we started to say our goodbyes, at which point I reached down to lift something and a muscle in by back went TWANG. It was like I'd been shot. So I'm now hobbling round with a very sore back dosing myself up with paracetemol and ibuprofen waiting for it to heal, which it seems to be doing albeit a little slowly.

While I'm a bit narked, at least it happened when the bulk of the moving had been completed, rather than at the start.

When's the best time to have a disaster?

So, last night we all arrived at "the house" to finish off a few bits of painting and tidying prior to the carpet man arriving in the morning. However, only a few minutes into work Andy noticed some unfortunate stains appearing on the ceiling of the dining room. It became clear there was a leak somewhere above. Investigations proved that there wasn't a leak, but, in fact, three. One of the workmen in the house had managed to screw down the floorboard right into one of the central heating pipes.

This is where I was able to use a tip that my dad had showed me as a kid, and I had not used since, by taking a splinter and jamming it into the hole(s). The wood expands as it gets damp and staunches the flow (you can see this to best effect in the bottom picture).

An emergency plumber was summoned, came and started to effect a repair.

This morning, I got a text from Andy, saying "Getting the full set - checking for a gas leak now".

Luckily the plumber (from the previous evening) had returned and was able to track and repair the gas leak. There was an old lead pipe which lead to the hall which had not been properly capped.

We decided that while this wasn't exactly how we'd have planned it, getting these problems while there was no floor coverings was probably the best time......silver linings, eh.

While we waited for the carpet to be laid, Andy showed me his new pride and joy. The original Consumer Unit (I think this is a poncey name for a fuse box) was located in the living room, just above the electricity meter. This was a bonkers location, and so Caitlin and Andy have taken the rewire as an opportunity to relocate it to the cellar. And it is a thing of beauty....

Cool, eh? It's got lights and everything. The lights stay on, even if all the breakers trip so you can see what's what....as long as you don't fall down the cellar stairs in the dark getting to it.

They've also got an internet connected thermostat for the central heating so Caitlin or Andy can switch the heating on (or off) from in bed....or work, or the moon.

It is so cool. It's a bit like HAL in 2001.....but I hope it's a bit more cooperative.

Nick Lowe

One of the names you might have noticed on that list yesterday, was that of Nick Lowe. I have seen him thrice now, as on two of those Elvis Costello shows he was the support. I thought I might share a bit about some of the names on yesterday's list. How would you feel when someone you like so much forgets the words of the first verse of the first song of his first gig in Manchester for 20 years? One of your favourite songs?

I became aware of Nick Lowe in the late 1970's as a producer of a large number of Stiff Records records including those of the early Elvis Costello. Before that, he'd already had a bit of a career, first with Kippington Lodge, and then with a greater profile as a member of Brinsley Schwarz, a group the record company were convinced were going to take over the world. They didn't.

As well as a producer in the late 70's he was a member of Rockpile from 1975 with Dave Edmunds, Billy Bremner (no, not that one), and Terry Williams. Although the band were around for a while - I saw them supporting Elvis Costello in 1980 - and the members produced their own solo albums, the groups itself only ever issued one, "Seconds of Pleasure". I seem to remember that it was claimed that the complexity of the contracts the individual members had with other record companies made it difficult for them to produce a "Rockpile" album.

In the summer of 1978, I briefly worked, washing up, in the kitchen of the Steak and Kebab House in Didsbury. After my first shift, I took the unheard of sum of £7.50 (may pay for one shift) to my favourite record shop in Stockport (I can't now remember its name, but they gave the records to you in a plastic bag with Laurel and Hardy on the front) and spent the afternoon browsing through their stock before settling on "Jesus of Cool" by Nick Lowe (not unexpectedly the record company had to change the records name for US issue and settled on "Pure Pop for Now People"). LPs cost £2.99 or up to £3.14 depending on the record company issuing it. I'm not sure exactly how much I paid.

It was, and still is, fantastic. In fact I think I might still have it up in the attic. I Love The Sound of Breaking Glass, Little Hitler, So It Goes and the wonderful "Marie Provost" about a silent film star eaten by her dog after taking her own life.

Lowe describes himself, adjusting the James Brown quote, as "the least hard working person in rock and roll" so I haven't seen him nearly as much as I'd like.

The last time was a solo gig at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester which was notable not only for his first gig in Manchester for 20 years, but he opened with one of my favourite songs of his, "What's Shakin' on the Hill". Unfortunately he forgot the words half way through the first verse.....he recovered and the rest of the concert was a blast. I'd love to see him again, but don't want another twenty year wait! If you're reading this Nick, let's get some dates sorted.

A list of bands

While we've been decorating in Sale, we've listened to a great deal of Smooth FM. It's been amazing how many of the songs I know. I reckon that it must be a 95% hit rate. When I say "I know", I mean they are familiar to me, so I can hum them or sing the chorus, but I might not immediately be able to name either song or artist. That must be a function of being so old, but what has surprised me is how many artists are ones I've actually shelled out money to see.

And that got me onto a mental list of all the bands I've been to see (which isn't that many). You know how we blokes like a good list. I'll be interested to see how many get added over the next few weeks.

Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers
Blondie
Stranglers
Stiff Little Fingers
OMD
The Pogues
The Cure
Siouxsie and the Banshees
Hootie and the Blowfish
Elvis Costello (Apollo, Bridgewater Hall, Lancaster Uni, Liverpool Royal Court, Liverpool Philharmonic, Birmingham NEC, Birmingham Odeon, Royal Albert Hall)
Crowded House
B-52's
Kleenex
The Damned
The Slits
David Bowie
Prince
The Rolling Stones
Little Bo Bitch
Joe Jackson
Orchestra Baobab
Buena Vista All Stars
Steve Earle
The Dead Kennedys
The Jam
The Specials (Two Tone Tour)
Buzzcocks (supported by Joy Division)
Sex Pistols (2014 version)
Young Marble Giants
Revillos
Nico
Fairground Attraction
Bob Dylan
The Long Ryders
Los Lobos
John Mayall
Dr John
Slim Gaillard
The Incredible Jimmy Smith
Johnny Winter
Nick Lowe
U2 (Salford Uni Student Union)
Barenaked Ladies
The Mod-ettes
Gogol Bordello
Robert Cray

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New additions

Michelle Shocked
Billy Bragg
Teardrop Explodes
Van Morrison

Happy Days

Over the last month or so, I've been suffering with a few physical ailments which have got me down a bit. I seem to be slower in overcoming them than before. However, there are signs that I'm coming through, and things are perking up.

Last time out I told you about the work that Gel and I had put in trying to help Caitlin and Andy with their house. Although this has taken a lot out of me, it has also made me feel great. It's kick started me into Spring.

Just overnight we've had a lovely house guest from another part of the EU. Miriam is a childhood friend of Gel's currently living in Germany. She tries to come over regularly to visit family and friends (and smuggle back all those English things you can't get in Germany). She is mad as a box of frogs and I can see why she and Gel get on so well :0)), and we had a lovely time entertaining her and introducing her to our new cats (she's not been to see us for over a year so hasn't met them before).

The weather is trying to become Springlike, and much as I try to portray myself as a winter lover, there's no denying that the warmer weather and longer days are nice.

The other big thing that indicates I'm returning to normal, is that on my way out of the house this morning, I picked up my camera. Not something I've done for a while. This is a phenomenon that Phil and I have discussed at length. How you you can go into a bit of a trough, not having taken a picture for weeks, and then get a nice kick from starting up again.

And I did take one today, but am reluctant to share it as I think it might form the start of a little project, and I want to get a few more before unveiling it to you.

So for now, here's one from the archives.

I do like this one. I took it at Chester Zoo on Oct 15th 2006.

So, it's all finished....

Ha!

I am referring, of course, to the work we've been helping with on Caitlin and Andy's house.

Just to take you back to the start, Caitlin and Andy had been looking for property in the Sale area, where they currently live, and were hoping to pick up a bargain even if it meant a little work. After a few other properties were seen, and in a couple of cases bid on, this current one came on the market.

It had been owned by an old lady, a retired teacher, who had died, and the solicitors in charge of disposing of the estate were selling it. It is a Victorian, two-bed, end terrace, with off street parking and a lovely sized garden on a small unadopted cul-de-sac.

It was very clear from the get-go that a lot of work was going to be necessary, but it turned out that there was more than they bargained for. A suitable bid was made, and accepted, and various trades persons were engaged to have a look at the property and give estimates for work.

The roofers said that the work done on the roof was possibly the worst they'd ever seen. Some of the tiles had been painted with grey paint, and we think this may have been a scam to pretend they'd replaced tiles when, in fact, they simply been up and painted it. Somebody had also sprayed expanding foam under the roof tiles and this had led to tiles lifting and damp getting everywhere.

So, new roof, new bathroom, new damp proof course, replaster every room, re wire, new radiators, new skirting boards and architraves.

They intend to to move in next Saturday, and this week the sparks, chippy and carpet man are in, so all the decorating had to be complete by this weekend just gone. Gel and I have been in most days over the last two weeks, and are both knackered but extremely pleased to have been able to help.

I'll do some pics soon.

But until then, you'll have to make do with a picture of the coffee and walnut cake that I've made. Hopefully now that we're less committed to decorating there will be more blog and more pictures of cakes.

Nom, nom, and, indeed, nom.

Now I know how Michelangelo felt

The last few days have been spent painting ceilings and walls and floors (varnish) and bannisters.....

Physically it has been punishing and we're getting home fit to drop. However, we know it's only for a short while, and then it's done.

I need to to learn to put more emulsion on the walls, and less on me.

The Sandmen

Do you ever rehearse conversations with people - mostly famous people - in case you were to meet them?

On Wednesday I went round to lend a hand to Andy as he sanded the hall and dining room of the new house. Towards midday I wandered up the road to B&M bargains to fetch a couple of bottles if water and nine, sorry six+three, pack of mini Twixes. I hadn't gone with the express intention of buying the Twixes, but was taken by the offer. Good old B&M. On the way up to B&M I rehearsed a conversation with Lou Macari.

Macari, posed in front of the Stretford End.

There were two things that prompted this rather pointless activity.

On Tuesday night before settling down to watch Eng v Ned BT were showing a "Wembley Classic" and in this case was the 1979 FA Cup Final. This was the third FA Cup Final in four years that United had contested. I went to all three, a defeat to Southampton in '76 (Stokes a mile offside), a win v Liverpool in '77 (somewhat lucky winner), and, as I watched, and remembered, on Tuesday night a defeat to Arsenal.

There were a number of things that struck me about this game. One was the number of clogging fouls that the referee allowed without brandishing a yellow card (did they have yellow cards then?). There was one in particular by Mickey Thomas on Pat Rice towards the end of the game.  Somewhat primitive. The other was that while I clearly knew the order of the goals (0-1, 0-2, 1-2, 2-2, 2-3), I had forgotten how close the end the third goal was. I was standing - yes standing, a £2.50 ticket - behind the goal we (Super Super Sam/ Super Super Sam/ Super Super Sam/ Super Sammy McIroy) equalised in, and remember clearly thinking that we'd "do them" in extra time.....not that extra time ever came.

This was one of those games described by the commentator as exciting for the neutrals, but overlooking the heart-wrenching effect on the losers. I remember being utterly spent after that game. It was a long coach trip home.

The game was at the end of the season, the FA Cup Final always is, the pitch was heavy, it always was in those days, and it was hot. There was only one sub allowed, and the players must have been knackered, so I was really impressed to see one of my heroes, Jimmy Greenhoff, still buzzing around right at the end of the game. He was just a few days short of his 33rd birthday.

Jimmy Greenhoff. £120,000 from Stoke, 97 games 26 goals.

The commentator was Brian Moore, with Brian Clough adding gnomic comments at irregular intervals. Much fewer than interjections these days from the "Colour Man". At one point, with Utd 0-2 down, the ball was crossed and Pat Jennings had to make a smart save from Macari, and Brian Moore described it as a good header from Macari "who gets up well for a small man" (or something similar).

It wasn't just that that made me rehearse the conversation with Macari. The catalyst was when I walked past Sale Leisure Centre. That might seem a bit random if you didn't know that I played five-a-side one week at Sale and on the way in I saw Lou Macari coming out after a swim.

Andy hired a belt sander and a corner sander, and had a go at sanding down the floorboards in the hall and dining room. We were a little haphazard, but the result was pretty decent.

Since then he, Caitlin, Gel and I - and today Andy's mum and dad - have been painting like mad things. Newly applied plaster is a thing of beauty, but needs quite a few layers of mist/paint/paint.... Everything Caitlin and Andy do know makes it more like a home and less like a building site. Gel made them a pile of food today which they can heat up quickly when they get home during this week. It's a lot of graft, but moving day is in two weeks and we're all going to pull together to make sure that it goes well. It's very exciting, and a real pleasure to be able to contribute.