Amber Joy, Holy Men, Chris Wilson… Fun Fun Fun… and curry!
Published: August 2, 2018
Two great live music ticket gigs looming:
Amber Joy Poulton and the Holy Men
@ the Playford Country Music Club,
Friday August 17, 7.30 pm
Great country music, great entertainment.
Check out Amber’s latest – In Your Wildest Dreams:
Everything you need to know:
- Friday, 17th August
- Playford Country Music Club
- Uley Road Hall
- Lot 806 Forrestall Road, Elizabeth Downs
- (note enty off Forrestall Rd)
- 7:30pm
- $20 pre-purchase ($25 at the door)
- Bookings at 0413 872 425 – If you pre-book for this show you save $5!
Winter Blues – Chris Wilson BENEFIT
Following Chris Wilson’s recent cancer diagnoses, The Adelaide Roots & Blues Association is proud to present a benefit for, and tribute to the Australian blues great.
Featuring members of Chris’s Adelaide band playing the music of Chris Wilson, proceeds will go to supporting Chris and his family in this difficult time.
Saturday 18 August
Time:
8.00 PM
Cost: 20 bucks
Tickets at the door
* SOLD OUT * but with some cancellations tickets are now available here:
https://www.trybooking.com/book/event?eid=376239&
If capacity is reached click the “wait list” option and you may secure tickets if there are further cancellations.
For more ARBA info and news go here: http://www.adelaiderootsandblues.org
or to adelaide roots and blues gig guide on feacesbook
https://www.facebook.com/cwilsonmusic/
Don’t forget: 2018 Memphis Blues Challenge fund raiser
Several events are needed to help raise the funds to get ONE MORE MILE and BEN FORD-DAVIES to the 2019 International Blues Challenge in Memphis, Stupidland.
So, here’s the first one:
10th August. Semaphore Workers Club
93 The Esplanade, Semaphore (directly opposite The Palais)
$15 entry, kids free
6.00: Doors open and BBQ
7.30 – 8.15: J.J Fields, Blind Dog Taylor and the Healers
This event will include a gala auction, Pistol Pete’s Memphis BBQ will be sizzling, fine wines from S C Pannell wines will be available and the evening will conclude with an all-star jam!
All-Star Jam Recipe: Gather a bushel of All-stars and place in a cauldron with a bilge of water, a bag of sugar and an old Blundstone boot. Boil for 3-4 sets. Longer if the sets are short and the breaks are long. Remove from boil, strain through a roadie’s underchunders and set the boot aside; it should be sweet and tender. Serve boot with a free rider beer and a pickled onion. Toss the jam down the green room toilet and flush – there’s too much of it around, anyhow.
Looking further ahead I see:
the Steve Brown Band at the Groove Garden… first weekend in September.
The Groove Garden is a funky retro live music venue at:
133 Main Road
McLaren Vale, South Australia 5171
And speaking of alternate music/entertainment venues you could go West to try:
Fidel’s at: 66 Wattle Avenue, Royal Park
Somewhat reminiscent of an old folk club my cousin took me to some millennia ago Fidel’s is casual and friendly, not fashion-conscious and not loud. Things that make for a pleasant afternoon or evening of entertainment. A variety of entertainment, too; for example:
Curry with Comrades
6:30pm Saturday 25 August
Fidel’s – Royal Park Doghouse Club – 66 Wattle Avenue, Royal Park
$25/$20 (concessions)
Guest speaker Daniel Gasparri Chargé d’Affaires Embassy of the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela
Vegetarian/mild tastes catered for
Further info Bob 0418 894 366 cpa@cpa.org.au
A knight of the oval-ish table….
Seeing some of the blather about the “lost” Monty Python Pink Knight sketch reminded me of the time I was a knight of the round – well, oval table. It was oval shaped until we had extra knights for dinner and then mum would lift up the square pieces in the middle to make the table bigger; I don’t know what you call that shape – ovobloid??.
Anyway, the old dragon was precious about the bloody thing; under the guise of good manners she wouldn’t let us put our elbows on the table but I know she was more worried about the tin spurs of my elbow couters scratching the tabletop – solid oak-veneered chipboard, it was.
Dinner time could be a trial with mum especially if she served up broth. I used to eat that with visor down to strain out some of the larger lumps of gristle, bones and other unidentified blobs that she managed to bung in the stuff. I had to clean my teeth with a frayed willow stick and my visor with a wire brush.
And Mum always kept a ball peen hammer on hand to bash our helmets if we slurped the soup or choked up a bird’s head or foot onto the table.
But dinner-time at the roundish table was when the business of the joint was done. There was always a stupid quest to follow or some challenge to answer.
Which brings me to the point which was the time Mum told us we had to fight the Black Knight for some cooked-up honour duel.
The Black Knight was very black in indeed; in fact he was called the Deep Black Knight. And his wife’s name was Violet. She liked wearing clothes dyed a very deep, dark violet so she was called… Deep Violet.
It appears my cousin Sir Ferdy Foulmouth called the deep Black Knight’s wife Deep-throat, apparently causing the sable savage to take umbrage and insult and then challenged one of us to fight to the death over the gag. (weak pun – sorry.)
I drew the joker from the deck Sir Shifty Sleight-of-hand offered and went out to meet the challenge.
“Ho!!” roared the coal-coloured contender. “You…! Sir Craven the Pigeondicked! I could knock you over with my breath!”
“Yes. Halitosis will do that. Nevertheless, I are here to answer the challenge, Sir easily-offended Very Dark Deep Black Bloke.”
“Ha!” (The Deep Black Knight had many laughter-based expletives in his vocabulary to give adequate vent to his massive lung power)…. he exclaimed…. “I shall let the little mouse excrement choose the weapons!”
That’d be me. Knowing how handy the Deep Black Knightwas with swords, maces and all kinds of stabbery, slashery, bashery and pokery things I broke out into an evil-smelling sweat. But then, I rallied.
‘Well, Okay, then…” I spoke somewhat brave-ishly ….. “I choose … … cryptic crosswords…!”
The strangled squiff I heard was the Deep Black Knight’s ring-piece giving vent to a fear fart – one of his least heard expletives.
“Me first!” I sniggered. “One across, seven letters, Tropical plants a retired jester has mixed up!”
That had him fukked – he’d never guess that while his botty burped in his tin pants.
He shoved a finger up his nose, dug out a blob of snot and flicked it at me.
“Right!” he sed…. “Challenge withdrawn, I’m off; where’s my wife?”
“Umm…. She’s round the back of the castle, behind the tumbril shed …. practising her ..um … sword-play.”
What?? She can’t swing a sword to save her life!!” The Black Bugger roared.
“Yeah, well, she’s not swingin’ it…. she’d doin’ sword-swallowing with Sir Lance-is-long.”