Back in our courting days Gareth was in a band. He’d disappear into a manky studio every Saturday with his mates, make a racket and then sit around eating pizza. That is when I discovered tuna and sweetcorn is considered a tasty topping in Scotland.
Gareth played the bass, which is a very foxy instrument. I positively swooned when I first saw him on stage and knew I had to marry him. But alas, the band disbanded not long after that gig. Gareth pursued solo projects.
Then this year he joined a new band. I was all a-quiver until I heard the band already had a bass player. Dr. G would be at the keyboard. That’s hardly the sexiest of instruments, is it?
Not only that, he’d be doing fancy bleeps and samples and stuff, which meant he’d be nicking off with George the Powerbook all the time and leaving me stuck with the stupid PC.
But when I saw him playing a gig a few weeks ago I realised the appeal was not about the instrument but about the bloke. It is exciting to watch someone do something they love to do. The faraway expression, the intense concentration. People who are interested are interesting. Therefore I’ll be taking up skydiving, stripping, and sword fighting in order to keep the magic alive.
Meanwhile, Dr. G’s fame is spreading across the land. The other night the band was playing in a pub in deepest darkest Fife and a girl came up to him.
“Is your name Gareth?”
“D’you go wi’ a lassie called Shauna?”
“I read her book!”
“She wrote about her man Gareth playing in bands so I wondered if it was you! Wah-hey! I’ve read all about you… being romantic and that!”
A technical hitch.