The start and end of my career as a Concert Promotoer

I won't be any danger to the Mean Fiddler as a concert arranger and promoter, but there is a 1st (and possibly last) time for many things and I think this one could be judged as a successes.

Lets be clear what I mean by a concert arranger and promoter and exactly what I did

1. Answer an email from an act asking if I could arrange a gig in the Aberystwyth area
2. Go to the Druid and get Lewis the landlord to put the night in the diary
3. Put some posters up the act sent me and get some other people to put some posters up
4. Get some willing and capable hands to sort out the P.A. and the support act.
5. Hassle some people to come along
6. Email a Cambrian News journalist some details

So in short I did bugger all.

So Attila the Stockbroker on his 30th anniversary tour appears to have gone well from the feedback from the people who went along, the landlord who got a lot more business in a Thursday night and John (AKA Attila) and his tour manager (wife, Robina).

He played in Cardigan starting at 7pm for an hour. On trying to leave it appears his car (and about 30 others) were flooded by the incoming tide! Only in mid-Wales would this happen. It seems to be a known issue around equinox tides from a quick search on Google, so why did it catch out a Poet and 30 people who came to see him on Thursday night? I expect a poem about the ritual drowning cars in Cardigan at the equinox to join his cerebral rants on particular sleeping bags, asylum seeking Darlek's, his wife's nose and a fit and appropriate ending for our dear ex-leader Maggie.

He got to Goginan maybe 20 minutes later than planned, which turned out not to be a problem. The support band (guitar and fiddle) played on a bit longer and were very good indeed.

There were a few things I did not expect to come along with the role of promoter including some running repairs to the electrics of John and Robina's car as a result of it getting wet in salt water and not being able to turn the head lights off.

My most lasting memory of the evening will be the poem about his step father, the type of man he was and how long it took for them to say they loved each other. Without being crass in any way, he delivered a most moving poem which was his last of the evening which had a tear in most peoples eye.

While our politics may overlap in places, there is probably a lot we don't agree on (and much we probably do), but if you want your thoughts provoked, I recommend a night out with 3 things

• An open mind
• Attila the Stockbroker after 6 pints
• A few pints yourself