This is the chapter that we riffed our way through.
You see, what normally happens is that Ant arrives with a plan, well maybe not a plan in the purest sense of the word, but at least some sort of sketch of a plan.
Now you could blame it on the time of year, or the sherry, or even the boogie - but the fact is he showed up for 36 with nothing. Empty-handed. Nada. He had zip. His only excuse was something to do with plumbing (I thought it wise not to pursue).
Faced with this scenario, and being ever the professional, I suggested we hit record and let the fates steer us to the podcasting horizon. I think we may just have got away with it. But then I have had that suspicion all along...
So that's it for 2020. Thank you for listening, contributing, responding and being with me in spirit. My floating club-gig often felt like an arena!
So, here’s to parties on sunny afternoons in verdant gardens, being allowed to hug, to go to shows and to feel free again. Until then, you’re always welcome to join me in the headphones. Happy New Year, bugger the last one and stay safe.