A spam email turned up the other day, posing a couple of interesting questions:
'In a band? Wanna be the opening act for Bon Jovi at the 02 Arena?'
I'm tempted to reply with 'nope, but I'll have a go.' Presumably if nobody else entered the competition Bon Jovi would have to put up with me as their support act. I have no musical skills at all, but I could borrow my Mum's Bontempi keyboard and therefore treat the Jovi's audience to a tinny, pre-recorded, electronic bossanova. This would probably enrage the band (and their audience) but thankfully the keyboard is quite chunky and would function pretty well as a shield.
Actually, I own a ukulele which is sitting unplayed in the top of my wardrobe. Every time I scrabble around up there I see the box and remember that I really should pick it up again. At one stage, I was having lessons, practising daily and being constantly irritated by slowness of my digits. On every occasion whenever I've tried to learn anything musical, I've felt like I needed to apologise to the instrument. I keep telling myself that one day I will go back to it. I will become a uke mistress and my stage name will be 'Slothfingers'.
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