The Intergalactic Cowboy

Today is the day that I travel back to London. If my flight is on time, I can make it back to the hotel by 5pm; throw my suitcase into the room; and get to S.P.’s party by 6pm. Well, the flight out of Rome was forty-five minutes late taking off. The immigration and baggage claim serivices at Gatwick were rather efficient and I was able to get to the hotel by 5:15 pm. The suitcase was quickly dumped; the teeth were brushed; and I was headed to the tube station for a travel day pass and as quick of a trip to S.P.’s apartment as possible. I should add that S. was having a live performance by the Ned Evet trio right there in her apartment at 6 pm. If I rang the doorbuzzer after the music started, the buzzer might not be heard. If the buzzer was heard, then the performance would be distracted. All that I could do was do my best to take the correct subway trains and hope that none of the intervening stations were closed for repair, which seems to be a common predicament on Sundays in this town. Thankfully, I had the quickest and most efficient tube journey that I have ever experienced. I would get off one train and the next train would appear as soon as I reached the next platform. I thanked God for this wonderful good fortune.
I reached the apartment at 5:50 pm. S.P. is looking trim and healthy and rosy cheeked. She introduced me to a few people, about half of whom were either American or Canadian. I met Ned and the booking agent that he is working with on this British tour. This booking agent also books British tours for Atlanta band Gringo Star, as well as an Athens band that I have heard of before. Ned’s band was tight and energetic. I hope that the neighbors were not offended by the volume coming through the walls. After two sets my body started to crash from lack of sleep and my eyes would not stay open. I left the party early as apologetically as I could.
Good times !
I.C.