So, I made it to Bristol. That Birmingham show got me so bad that there was no way I was gonna miss the last show of the tour. So my rover 420 is dead but I’m gentian a Saab on Saturday. Wondering if I need to bother..the train to Bristol was fabulous: – I didn’t get lost (hurrah!) and also I got to spend the journey drinking wine, reading a book and patting on makeup. You cant do that in at 120 mph in the fast lane of the m4 huh? well.. You can but its never long before the cops pull you over…. anyhow.. The show was in a large pub type venue, the fleece and firkin. Another sell out for Arthur and the guys, and another wicked show. The place was packed out, and so hot that I took refuge behind the sound desk…where there was a man busy with a pen and paper writing out a setlist. Great! I thought.. Now I can astound mikes readers with a complete accurate settist in my review, and no-one will ever know how hard I was bitten the bacardi. He said he was reviewing the show for ‘the castle’ and promised me a setlist copy. But by the end of the show I realest he was slightly insane and my setlist never did materialise. so, sorry folks, but youll have to wait for his review in the castle. where im sure he’ll say lovely things about me too. Arthur looked cool tonite.. not in one of his usual trademark shirts,, but in a long sleeved tshirt.. overheard in the ladies’ toilets (where even Mike Randle can’t report from) “well.. for a 58 year old guy he is sex on legs.” yeah and it was another fine show, though arthur didnt play an encore because he said hed ‘already done it’. he dedicated the last number to “the folks outside”.. and really seemed to dig them, thanking them for coming. wondering what he was talking about, i jumped down from my sounddesk stool and went to check out what he meant. there were at least 30 people who couldnt get tickets stood outside the door in the street checking arthur out thru the large window, and getting into it just as much as the crowd inside. someone with cool tattoos and bleached spikey hair was propping the door open with his foot so everyone could hear good. it was a really neat scene with a certain solidarity and hey, arthur was diggin em.. plus I had a great view of mike randles side of the stage. and I figured it would be fine to roll a joint blatantly.. since I was already outside then Icould hardly be thrown out could I? Igrooved and smoked with the street folks to singing cowboy, when halfway thru i noticed that the tattooed door propping guy was holding an official looking clipboard. worried, I asked him “are you with the venue?”. “sure am” he replied. “ah.” I said uncomfortably..”and you just watched me skin up – so I guess that means no re-admission?” but he just smiled and said “well I understand you’re with the band so I didnt see anything.”.. hey,I just love being official diary person! actually he was the coolest doorman I ever met..helped the guys pack their gear in the van as they went off for hopefully their final nights stay ever in a dodgy moldy premier lodge.. and told me to keep it quiet about the spliff incident. lets hope the fleece and firkin manager isnt one of Mikes readers then… oh and hi to Jeff and Alison! well, thats it from me.. thanks – its been fun!

Mel Cicero

Mike Randle