9 April 2011 (Saturday) - A Night Out...

The lies that the Government constantly tell us wind me up – I’ve ranted on the subject so many times. But the lie that winds me up most (today) is the so-called inflation rate. This is the amount by which prices increase each year. The Government is crafty, and publishes various inflation rates. But all of them are (currently) round about five per cent. Which means that something which cost £100 last April would today cost £105. Or something which cost twenty seven quid last April would cost twenty eight quid thirty five pence today.
Totally by chance I bought a fishing licence last April which cost me twenty seven quid. This morning I renewed it. The cost: Forty one quid.  That’s an increase of thirty five percent. How does that work?

I was in at work very early this morning. With a planned I.T. outage taking place, the offer of overtime was there so I took it. But I didn’t do too much overtime, and I was fishing by 1.30pm. The rest of the haddock wranglers had got to the pond before me, and were all three fish up on me when I arrived. Fishing was slow today – I only caught three all afternoon, but I did lose one which was quite a size. Unusually I ended up with less fish that everyone else. So much for really skilful angling TM .

After showering off the fishy smell and having had a doze on the sofa we set off out. ‘er indoors TM had planned a surprise for me. I had no idea what was in store. I decided to hope for the best whist expecting the worst. And seeing how I was expecting the worst, I wasn’t disappointed too much.

The Hot Potato Syncopators are a comedy swing whoopee band featuring a brace of ukuleles, musical saw and tea-chest bass played by three eccentric English gentlemen. I know that because I copied it from their website.

In my own words I can only describe them as Bertie Wooster’s mates doing rather poor George Formby impersonations. Starring Gussie Fink-Nottle as Mister Dennis Teeth (musical saw and juggling), and featuring Claude Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright as the one with the moustache, and Stilton Cheesewright as the other one, you can see why humanity gave up on the 1920s some ninety years ago.
I can’t honestly say that they delivered on their promise of a “hilarious rip-roaring revue of comedy, music and tomfoolery”. They started off with a rather lame song, and I sat waiting for the joke. Clearly no musical act could be as dire as this band was, and this had to be a set-up for a gag. I waited, and I waited. After three songs the horrible realisation dawned on me that this was no set-up: this *was* the act. They *were* that bad.
The dire songs were interspersed by “zany-ness”; such as Gussie balancing an umbrella on his nose (it don’t get better than that!) and juggling to music.
I had offered to drive us there this evening, but my beloved had driven. Which was probably for the best. Had we gone in my car I would have charged her for the petrol.

To be fair to them, there was one bit in the second act that was quite good, featuring Gussie pretending to be a puppet. However on reflection it wasn’t actually “good”, merely nowhere near as lame as the rest had been.
Perhaps I was sulking because in going to this show I’d missed a telescope session with the astro club this evening. And for all that I wasn’t impressed, five minutes research on-line shows that this bunch has a major international following. And it was clear from the reaction of the audience that everyone who was at the show tonight (except me) loved them.

In retrospect the whole thing was a terrible shame - ‘er indoors TM had seen the advert for the show, and bearing in mind my penchant for Jeeves & Wooster and period dramas she honestly thought I’d lap it up. She seemed quite hurt when I was less then enraptured….

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