From “The Libretto” – July 2010
I’m back from my holiday in Turkey, although I nearly didn’t make it after attempting a 7000ft paraglide. The wind dropped and so did I! Luckily the ground broke my fall!
This made me reflect on life and I suddenly realised that one of the things I love about the choir is
THE BUS RIDE!
You can’t beat the thrill of standing on the side of the road wearing my warm maroon fleece in the drizzling rain waiting with eager anticipation for the bus to arrive! Will it, won’t it? It’s now 2 minutes late, 3 minutes, 4, 5, 6, 7 – don’t want to be done for loitering – here it comes! Pick up my number 1 uniform – did my wife put my bow tie and cufflinks in? Too late now!
Why is it that the door always opens the wrong way! Every time! Who do I sit by or shall I sit by myself and turn my iPod on? Perhaps not – I’ve not been forgiven for doing that before. By the time I’ve untangled my suit bag from the door handle and tripped the light fandango down the aisle, I decide that discretion is the better part of valour and I sit quietly on my own. There’s no room for my bag in the lockers so it sits on my lap all the way! Bring on Easy Jet. Play ‘Bat out of Hell’ on my iPod. Live dangerously!
Then the really exciting bit starts. “Where do we pick up the Bristol lot? Anybody know? Are they coming on the bus or are they going by car?” “Anybody seen Steve” shouts a voice from the rear. “He’s in the front I think” – somebody yells back. “Anyone know where the place is?” “Go round again, driver”, “You’ll see Dai Kirton in a minute”. I’m LOVIN’ IT! I really am!
We do the concert – goes well we think; “Myfanwy a bit flat again?” Don’t be personal;
“ No, it was the piano – needs tuning” is the lame excuse. “Good, glad it wasn’t us”. Who suffers from premature vocalisation? Who wasn’t watching? Whose treble was in the bass clef? The ‘After glow’ is brilliant, the beer better but pricey and at 11-30pm the plaintive cry goes up –‘On the bus! On the bus!’ The replies are unrepeatable, but they are in unison.
At midnight the last stragglers from the Pub get on, all claiming they needed the toilet or couldn’t find the bus. “C’mon, some of us have got homes to go to”, says Larry. “Where’s Dai?” “With Merv”. “Where’s he?” “Don’t know – carry on driver!” We’re a caring lot, we really are!
The ’youngsters’ at the back keep up the ‘Afterglow’ until the Severn Bridge. “Is Dai on the bus?”, “Dai is, but Merv isn’t!”, “Yes, I am!” Most of us at the front are watching the little red light to see if the toilet’s vacant before falling asleep. So after 2 hours of restraint, off I go to the loo. It’s a work of art to get down the steps, turn around, open the door and squeeze a 15 stone frame into a space designed for an anorexic ferret. One hand is needed to do the biz and the other to hold on while experiencing the G-force of a fighter pilot. Skill! You don’t get this at Alton Towers! I must go on a diet (wash my mouth out with chocolate!). How do I get this flamin’ door open? Thanks lads, for encouraging me up and down the steps, I didn’t realise you could be so helpful. You’re so good! NOT!
At last it’s time to get off the bus, so a repeat performance of the light fandango, before tripping over my bag and falling from the bus like a pushed out kidnap victim! G‘night driver. Bye lads! See you on Monday!
Can I get home before I need the loo again? Quiet road, familiar wall. Hmmm………………
Siân, Shirley Ann and all the other girls – you don’t know what your missing. You really don’t!!!
Lyn (Baritone, maybe)