Howdy Folks. Wow that's two great weekend drives in a row. 

It really is all about the journey. I mean, I am writing a retrospective for a new bio at the moment and it's got me thinking...but I digress.

What we've done isn't as relevant to me as what we're doing. That's mighty Zen. Kind of.

And what better place to meditate than...traffic.

SO it's Easter weekend in Sydney and according to the papers, the camping spots outside in the national parks are overflowing with families escaping the city.

With Friday and Saturday of the long weekend proving Wet and Rainy, Sunday brought us the Resurrection of the sun (LOL, 10 points for religious inclusion, see what I did there, I referenced..oh never mind. Being clever is highly overrated anyway).

Where was I?

Oh yeah. Rosie, me, Ulumpty-leven Guitars and a virtually unpackable guitar stand, sitting in traffic with Everyone In Sydney who woke up and found Sunday sunny and clear and wonderful for a drive up the coast.

Jedi Level patience required.

Finally, as you cut the Gordian knot of the Pacific Highway, Freedom.

Aah. So relaxing.

We stopped at a Unnamed Service Station and I tried my luck with the Coffee Robot.

Fail.

The robot and I disagreed about  the colour coffee should be. I favour black as a starting point. The coffee robot thought that clear boiling water was a better option.

Machines are rising against us people, you've been warned!

After I lured it into a smelting compressor and dispatched Skynet back to Barista school we resumed our drive. Me with an oversweet milky warm brownness and Rosie with a pale grey beverage. At least I remembered to double cup it.

Rosie made me take this pic cos Bills brothers nick name is...

Cheers Max if you're reading.

Meanwhile, Rosie and I continued our discussion of Film Soundtracks and overly long instrumentals, favouring On Every Street by Dire Straits with a listen. Plus a bunch of Tinariwen, some Jezabels and Miles Davis.

 That's right folks, I am extolling the virtues of hitting the highway, yakking and listening to sounds, whilst bitching about the coffee robot. Such are the things life is made of.

Bad robot.

Speaking of bad robots, we had a Organic Processor Failure and took a wrong turn. Nuff said. We course corrected and bolted for the coast. 

And how was the scenery?  

This was taken by me, from the carpark across the road from the pub. This place is lovely. Bummer it's about get get another 1200 homes...

 Music-wise, we had an outstanding time. We wisely opted for the Gentle set to start with and once again, found that we have rather a....wide demographic appeal.

I did point out to the Various Parents that Stormcellar CD's make excellent child minding tools and that they should buy some.

I'm also aware that we may have been involved (peripherally, acoustically) in the Creation Of Children and we accept the thanks of Humankind for our part in continuing the species

Having Jo join us always makes for a good show.

Thanks to Jackson for bringing me that jug of water, that was very thoughtful, and a shout out to Natasha, Lincoln, Jordan and josh. 

It turns out we have what they call 'a following' up there :-) So many familiar faces that danced and sang along because they knew the words. Wow. Cheers to Steve and Rowena, Steve, Steve (sound was great) and...err..Harvey!

Now I am careful to remember that What Happens On Stage, stays on stage.

Ok, except for this moment.

At one point during the show a...well..a...farty smell wafted across stage. Fair enough, we're all human says me. 

As a player of a Woodwind instrument, Breathing In is Very Important.

On first waft I looked around to see who I should steer clear of. No one else seemed to notice. No guilty smiles. Ok.  An SBD eh? Right.

Mid way through the harp/guitar interchange during Same Old Blues I caught a right old facefull of it. Now you can see my dilemma. As part of playing the harmonica, you are required to Breathe In.

I felt like a ship trapped in the gales of the Roaring Farties and I was bouncing around looking for a place to evade the Olfactory Assault, as each breath-in to make a note was accompanied by NASTY NASTY NASTY.

I turned to Rosie and in a language spoken only by Musicians in mid song, using facial gestures, eye/eyebrow movements and my coloration, choked out 'WTF IS THAT SMELL'

Rosie very helpfully blamed Mr Wizard.

Meanwhile, it was time for me to play another note.

Another Draw note.

Yep. Breathe in.

NASTY NASTY NASTY OMG.

I almost choked, Rosie almost lost it laughing, Jo ditto and the other boys were wondering what the heck was going on.

Now before I go any further I should explain that the culprit was the Environmentally Friendly Septic system occasional burping out a little tainted methane which 'ocassionally' wafted across the stage.

I unreservedly withdraw any aspersions I may have cast about my bandmates digestive systems and my 'for the love of god, eat a piece of fruit' comment I may or may not have made.

As my head cleared, I noticed that evening had fallen and we finished our set and bade a fond farewell to the Catho.

So to recap, we drove up the coast on a gorgeous day, to a pretty place, played to a full house of enthusiastic folks, played tolerably well (we had fun) and then drove home, stopping at an overpriced organic cafe with better coffee to talk trash about world affairs.

What a result.

Happy Easter!