I am not loyal to any particular radio station. I flick and change at an unkind pace, determined by both ad placement and genre of music, usually with my most-obliging son in the back seat of the car saying little, but occasionally letting me know that "I like this piece" or that "the trumpets are pretty cool", which are amongst his euphemisms for, 'please stop being button happy and give this one a go'. Friday mornings are different. I look forward to radio station Triple J's 'Like a Version'... one band's artistic take on another band's song.
I try and favour Triple J for other reasons, too. They give the small-timers and the not-yet-known the opportunity to be discovered, or at least have their several minutes of fame. The band that caught my attention recently was no longer in that category. They had already had significant success and were combining their 'Version' performance with an announcement of their upcoming tour dates. But, it wasn't so much the song that they played that had me entranced, although I enjoyed that, too, it was what they said about their journey.
Like many bands, they had started doing small gigs - pubs mainly, if they could get them. Single-minded in their pursuit of glory they, nonetheless, set themselves smaller goals on the path to international fame and big concert hall billings. The first of which was 'to fill the corner'... the corner pub that is, with patrons.
Last night, I was invited to speak at a book club. It was my first such invitation and I was delighted. Most of the ladies present had read my
book, copies of which were scattered around the coffee table. That made me happy, but it was at the end of the night when one of the attendees asked if we could stay in touch, and presented me with her phone so that I could write in my telephone number, that I had my first, 'I'm on my way to filling the corner' moment. She had already entered my name and, in the space for occupation, she had written 'author'. Me, she was meaning me. Most writers will confirm that being such is a hard slog, filled with self-doubt and financial dependence, but in that moment I did not mind that my total income for most weeks from book sales is less than my 16 yo makes in a night of work. Ok, honestly, in an hour.
PS Thanks to Rusty Marmot for the photos
