Tom Collins Monday night sesh,
Ole! Ole-Ole-Ole!
I feel like I’ve been following a crap football team for years and tonight they bet Man U by 5-nil.
It was glorious brothers, let me tell you that much. It was one of those great, great nights. Why?- I do not know. It seemed that between myself, ‘the psychic gangster’ and the ‘man-who-is-gateswide’ there was little by way of energy and enthusiasm to begin with, but the people listened, liked, applauded and, best of all joined in; and, were so really good that ‘the craic’ as they say, snowballed into something magnificent, special, and wonderful. You would have had to have had been there and everybody in the room knew it. Highlights included a tin whistle player who was a session unto himself, and a version of ‘working class-hero’ that would put John Lennon to shame.
So what’s the secret of a truly, truly great seshoon? A brilliant musician or two and an open approach to willing participants, (this is also incidentally the secret of a truly awful seshoon depending on the ingredients). I think basically that all fields of human endeavour can be crystallised into either the Steve Davis or Alex Higgins camp; either you are a decent nice guy who plays it straight because he knows that the final scoreboard is the important one, or else you are a talented but irresponsible asshole who will throw away everything for the sake of a special type of glory that might only last five minutes.
The Tom’s seshoon is a Hurricane Higgins if ever there was one, it could be managed like many’s the other session, with a closer eye on consistency and quality, and a few more tried and trusted crowd-pleasers; but if it was, we would never have the craic as was tonight. Yes! Yes! Yes! This is what I love and this is what I believe in.
You would have had to have had been there. I think that is the special thing about ‘live’ stuff. Seshoons vs Recordings or Thayture vs Film/Tv it all boils down to the same thing: transience. I love the transient forms of expression, maybe because life itself is transient. This is probally why I hate to have anything theatrickle recorded.
In attendance tonight, but unfortunately not singing, was the unbecoming lady and he had much relevant to say on the subjects of ‘readings’ vs plays and the state of thayture today which I will be expounding upon (basically robbing all of his points for this blog) but not tonight as I’m most definitely the worse for weather.
EDIT: I wrote this last night when I came in, and I’ve cleaned it up a bit this morning for legibility, but I haven’t bothered doing anything to this last bit because I think there’s something quaint about the way I finished up.
My cat is crawking all over ne inan irritating but nonetheless comforting wat as I write this. And that is also nice and cool while at the same time discomfiting. And that’s’ a good enough sign to sign ogfff.
Ole! Ole-Ole-Ole!
I feel like I’ve been following a crap football team for years and tonight they bet Man U by 5-nil.
It was glorious brothers, let me tell you that much. It was one of those great, great nights. Why?- I do not know. It seemed that between myself, ‘the psychic gangster’ and the ‘man-who-is-gateswide’ there was little by way of energy and enthusiasm to begin with, but the people listened, liked, applauded and, best of all joined in; and, were so really good that ‘the craic’ as they say, snowballed into something magnificent, special, and wonderful. You would have had to have had been there and everybody in the room knew it. Highlights included a tin whistle player who was a session unto himself, and a version of ‘working class-hero’ that would put John Lennon to shame.
So what’s the secret of a truly, truly great seshoon? A brilliant musician or two and an open approach to willing participants, (this is also incidentally the secret of a truly awful seshoon depending on the ingredients). I think basically that all fields of human endeavour can be crystallised into either the Steve Davis or Alex Higgins camp; either you are a decent nice guy who plays it straight because he knows that the final scoreboard is the important one, or else you are a talented but irresponsible asshole who will throw away everything for the sake of a special type of glory that might only last five minutes.
The Tom’s seshoon is a Hurricane Higgins if ever there was one, it could be managed like many’s the other session, with a closer eye on consistency and quality, and a few more tried and trusted crowd-pleasers; but if it was, we would never have the craic as was tonight. Yes! Yes! Yes! This is what I love and this is what I believe in.
You would have had to have had been there. I think that is the special thing about ‘live’ stuff. Seshoons vs Recordings or Thayture vs Film/Tv it all boils down to the same thing: transience. I love the transient forms of expression, maybe because life itself is transient. This is probally why I hate to have anything theatrickle recorded.
In attendance tonight, but unfortunately not singing, was the unbecoming lady and he had much relevant to say on the subjects of ‘readings’ vs plays and the state of thayture today which I will be expounding upon (basically robbing all of his points for this blog) but not tonight as I’m most definitely the worse for weather.
EDIT: I wrote this last night when I came in, and I’ve cleaned it up a bit this morning for legibility, but I haven’t bothered doing anything to this last bit because I think there’s something quaint about the way I finished up.
My cat is crawking all over ne inan irritating but nonetheless comforting wat as I write this. And that is also nice and cool while at the same time discomfiting. And that’s’ a good enough sign to sign ogfff.
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