As I am in the habit of reminiscing these days, what with no job and more time on my hands than I am comfortable with, I have decided to update my blog once again.
Yes, Status Quo, apart from the Latin meaning 'the existing state of affairs'', was also an English rock band of the late seventies. I quite liked them but they weren't as cool as Led Zeppelin or some of the others, at least not in our house.
Anyway, one evening I found myself babysitting for the children of my employer, where I was working at the bottom rung of an up-market restaurant kitchen in South Dublin. A place where The Kinks nearly came to dine, but cancelled at the last minute to the great disappointment of, well, all of us. Bob Geldof's ex girlfriend was a waitress there, which makes it three dubious claims to fame after I tell you the not very interesting Status Quo story.
I was a reluctant babysitter, as I really wasn't a child oriented person, having already been the big sister to three siblings. I'd had kind of had enough of all that by the time I had reached my teens. Anyhow there was a few quid to be had, and we were in a recession, so I couldn't refuse.
The parents told me there was a guest staying and so I shrugged. No big deal. The guest was sitting in the living room with me all evening, we mumbled a few pleasantries, and I kept on reading my book. I couldn't help peering at him over the rim of my book, because I had seen him before somewhere, but couldn't nail it. I came to the conclusion he must be a friend of my Dad's or something. He headed off to bed eventually, and as I was staying over, so did I. (no, not the same bed).
At breakfast, my employer asked me how we had got on. I told her the children had slept all night and hadn't been any bother. No, with the guest she meant. Oh, why?
He was a member of Status Quo. The base player, I think, who had been looking for somewhere low-key to stay while in Dublin. The one who didn't have the permed curly hair, the fashion of the late seventies and early eighties. Ah, so that is where I'd seen him before. Just thinking how I had missed my opportunity for an autograph, and some interesting stories, all for the sake of a book, the title of which I can't even remember.
Well, I warned you it wouldn't be too a interesting story, but I had fun writing it and kept myself out of trouble for a few minutes.
All the best
Fiocle
Yes, Status Quo, apart from the Latin meaning 'the existing state of affairs'', was also an English rock band of the late seventies. I quite liked them but they weren't as cool as Led Zeppelin or some of the others, at least not in our house.
Anyway, one evening I found myself babysitting for the children of my employer, where I was working at the bottom rung of an up-market restaurant kitchen in South Dublin. A place where The Kinks nearly came to dine, but cancelled at the last minute to the great disappointment of, well, all of us. Bob Geldof's ex girlfriend was a waitress there, which makes it three dubious claims to fame after I tell you the not very interesting Status Quo story.
I was a reluctant babysitter, as I really wasn't a child oriented person, having already been the big sister to three siblings. I'd had kind of had enough of all that by the time I had reached my teens. Anyhow there was a few quid to be had, and we were in a recession, so I couldn't refuse.
The parents told me there was a guest staying and so I shrugged. No big deal. The guest was sitting in the living room with me all evening, we mumbled a few pleasantries, and I kept on reading my book. I couldn't help peering at him over the rim of my book, because I had seen him before somewhere, but couldn't nail it. I came to the conclusion he must be a friend of my Dad's or something. He headed off to bed eventually, and as I was staying over, so did I. (no, not the same bed).
At breakfast, my employer asked me how we had got on. I told her the children had slept all night and hadn't been any bother. No, with the guest she meant. Oh, why?
He was a member of Status Quo. The base player, I think, who had been looking for somewhere low-key to stay while in Dublin. The one who didn't have the permed curly hair, the fashion of the late seventies and early eighties. Ah, so that is where I'd seen him before. Just thinking how I had missed my opportunity for an autograph, and some interesting stories, all for the sake of a book, the title of which I can't even remember.
Well, I warned you it wouldn't be too a interesting story, but I had fun writing it and kept myself out of trouble for a few minutes.
All the best
Fiocle
All that and Sinead O'Connor, too!
ReplyDeleteLiving the high life. :) Oh and don't forget Bono.. then there was the time Mick Jagger came to tea.
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