Sax and Dregs and Rock n Roll

Salutations Hipsters.

Today I have little that is worthy of note to say so instead I thought I would tell you about a perfect moment in my rock n roll life.

The event in question took place some years ago and whilst it will never make it into the annals of pop history it will always be a day I will treasure.

A friend of mine, Trevski, was working as a roadie for that Tragic 70's hippy band - Supertramp.

Now you may say that is as uncool as it gets but I hapen to love Supertram and have done since I was a kid. My first encounter with them was when I was given their album "Breakfast in America" one Christmas when I was 13 and living in the desert near El Paso, Texas.

Years later, one sunny day in Cornwall I was driving in an opentop car with a gaggle of Dutch loonies who were all singing along to "Paris" as loud as their spliff expanded lungs could manage.

Crime of the Century reminds me of too many deep, depressing moments in the military (so does New England Billy Bragg which was my platoon song but I digress).

Ever since then their songs have re-appeared on the soundtrack of my life and as a result I just love them.

So on that wonderful day I flew down from Luton and into the heart of wealthy Europe - NICE. (You say neece not nice - its verry French yew no.) and jumped into a cab. 20 minutes, 100 Euros and a heart attack later I arrived at the coolest 'otel in the world.

That evening - after a trawl through the miniscule pricipality of Monaco - I met up with Trevski and the crew in the bar. Now, as you know the protocol in these siutuations is to keep your mouth shut, buy a round and blend in with the gang.

So off to the decorous bar I went. Standing there was an old guy all wrapped in Lycra and looking a bit lost. We nodded a greeting and then I realised it was the famous sax player John Hellawell. He of the sax solo and megaphone. Bloody Well Right it was!

The chat was lovely and it turned out he lived just up the road from where I grew up. What could I do? I bought the man a drink. I bought one for myself and I bought one for Trevski ad AJ the pseudo jewish guitar tech. So basking in the majesty of the moment I flashed the cash and paid the bill.

I stood at the bar for a few minutes more waiting for my change. Came there none. Instead the barman asked me for another 50 Euro.

That round cost me E150!!!! It also broke me for the night.

Thank god for the tour bus stash. No one was buying after that.

At the end of the weekend - which I am not going to describe because what goes on tour stays on tour - I checked out of the hotal and asked the concierge where the bus to Nice left from.

With a sneer that only a Frenchman can maintain he looked at me as if I were mad - "Sir, zer iz no bus."

Ok - I guess I will need to risk a taxi

"Taxi Sir? Why do you tek ze texi? Yew should tek ze helicopter." and with the ultimate withering pout "It is cheaper."

He was right. It was magical and it is the only way to see the Cote D'Azur.

Au Revior