Cool Dad!

Remember how I told you about the boy and the Dad, the one who's in a band?

Well I received a text from A the other day. It said

"Dad, just out of interest when's your next gig?

I read it and smiled, perhaps it was more of a smirk. Clearly the whole cool Dad thing, that cool Dad that I used to be, before I became uncool, was coming back into demand as A embarks on a journey of trying to impress a boy, one whose Dad's in a band.

I realised that A wanted to come to the next gig with the mystery boy to show him that I'm down with the kids, that I'm trendy, cool and use product in my hair, except on the bald spot of course.

I reckoned it would be best not to reply to A straight away, to leave it a little so that I didn't sound too chuffed (English for pleased) about her interest, so I relaxed and thought about the set list at our next gig. Was it "young" enough or would I have to try and persuade the others that we'd have to drop a few of the older songs?

Should I try to play the songs without gurning too much when I really get into them? Something virtually every drummer does, but we really shouldn't, particularly when we wonder why the singer gets all the girls.

Would my band be better than mystery boy's Dad's band? Would I be better than the drummer in mystery boy's Dad's band? Or, if mystery boy's Dad is the drummer what would be the best result?

Perhaps I should play a bit flashy to show off for the mystery kid, not a good thing musically but sometimes needed for impressing people who don't know about music.

All these things floated through my mind for a pleasant half hour. If I were a fighting man, an American or a German football fan the air would have been punched with delight. But I'm not. So I didn't.

I imagined the gig. I could see A standing there with the boy, telling him about my bands, my influences and the music I like, that sort of thing.

When all was done I sent my reply to A:

"Next gig is on Friday week. Why do you ask?"

She replied immediately, confirming all my suspicions, as she usually takes about a month to respond to me.

"Oh cool, you mean next Friday?"

"Yes, next Friday" said I

The reply came.

"Great, can I have some friends round to your flat that night when you're out then?"

Oh bollocks, I thought.

So close yet so far.