NOT EXACTLY ROCKET SALAD

There really is a band by that name. My wife and I went to one of their gigs at the Spread Eagle in Lymm on Wednesday last. Alan Williams – no mean musician himself and a witty guy – pulled everyone together from his astonishingly talented friends and they packed the place out for an enjoyable evening, mostly of modern American folk (about which I am largely ignorant).

One of Alan’s attractive qualities is that he doesn’t hog the light; he gives space for others to strut their stuff. The musicians I run across seem in general to be very generous to each other in this regard. It’s a quality I like.

Shirley and I are strong believers in supporting live arts, even amateur stuff, because it is done by people who have the courage to take risks in public. If amateurs are deficient in talent (I’m thinking of amateur theatre, not Alan’s friends who are stunningly able)they make up for it by creating a sense of danger, and we forgive them because we have the pleasure of wanting them to succeed.

How can I not enjoy seeing a shop manager or call centre worker bust a gut to play a romantic lead?

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