When it comes to the musical side of my retirement I’m happy to keep a low profile. I’m not saying people are continually knocking on my door offering super stardom and all the trappings that go with it. But there are times when my exposure is a little greater than I feel comfortable with.
There’s also the issue of practice. If I wanted to take my public performances more seriously, then I would need to practice, I would need to aim for something as close as possible to perfection, and I can confidently say I’ve never been turned on by perfection. I’m more of a ‘that’s close enough’, kind of guy, what’s next?
I’ve written blogs in the past about avoiding the gigs that go with my Monday night jazz class and the annual summer school. I’ve given myself credit for attending one or two of these but on the whole I’m happy to let others take the glory.
I missed one last Monday night. It was nice for our leader to say she missed me and I should have been there but overall I felt I’d make the right choice. It’s true that when I don’t go there is a small element in my thinking that I’ve taken the easy (cowardly) way out but then, hold on, I’m retired I’m supposed to take the easy route – aren’t I?
Yes and no, is the obvious answer to this tricky question. It’s probably important that a retired person continues to set themselves challenges (that word again), but not ones so great that we’re stressed out of our brain (or what’s left of it). So the jazz gigs I’ve more or less reached an accommodation with, with myself at any rate. I’m not saying I won’t appear live again but it won’t be a regular retirement activity for me. With that pretty much nailed down I felt able to look for other challenges. As I wrote above – done jazz, got that, let’s find something else.
That something else you will know if you’ve been reading these blogs for a while, was Celtic music. True, the pub version didn’t quite work out as I’d hoped. But I keep trying to improve courtesy of Youtuberry. So we’ll see. There may be an opportunity on our regular Irish holiday visit (as last year) but that whole idea of a holiday next year is currently being debated by Mrs Summerhouse and myself, so that may not be an opportunity at all.
It was in vague pursuit of an opportunity to play my many guitars that I joined the Leeds Folk Fiddle Group (LFFG) (see above). It wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined but it wasn’t too demanding and the people were friendly. It seemed like the perfect setting for a low-key approach to my retirement musical ambitions.
That is until this week. I received an email from our group leader informing me of the requirement to join the group and pay a membership fee – £40 for 10 weeks (a lot cheaper than my jazz night and not a problem at all). What was a problem was this bit – ‘LFFG members are expected to attend rehearsals regularly and perform at our gigs. There are exceptions when people can be excused from performance if they let us know well in advance but as a general rule LFFG is a performing group so gig attendance from all / majority of members is required.’
Ooher mrs, that’s quite clear. Unless I can find a loophole around the ‘all / majority’ continuum, I might have a problem. There are two such LFFG gigs before Christmas, one at the Leeds town hall at the Vegan something festival (not quite my thing) and another in a church in Bradford – better, but still a bit out there for my taste. I’d already sent my apologies to our group leader saying I wouldn’t be able to perform at either of these gigs.
And maybe that’s what prompted her email to me. I don’t know. I guess I will have to grasp the nettle this coming Thursday and see if there is any room for compromise. If not it would present me with an obvious dilemma.
I’ll let you know in a future blog how this little issue resolves itself but one has to laugh. There am I trying to have a relaxing, low profile type retirement and problems keep knocking on my door. It’s all very well our daughter saying you’re supposed to be taking it easy (not falling through garage roofs), you’re retired, but sometimes you just can’t make your arrow stick in the dart board of life. Whatever that means.