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Dave pauses for breath at the Semaphore Workers

Mike's Pith & Wind - Panic in the Precinct
Well, here I go again, launching myself into another of my monthly P&Ws without a clue. Like you I wonder what has intrigued or annoyed me enough to forensically analyse and pronounce sentences upon. Could it be some unhelpful personality trait that has perplexingly survived into my quite confusing enough latter years? I’ve got enough of the obvious buggers without mavericks operating independently of my awareness. Take my propensity to get flustered in minimal pressure situations – please.
I'll recount an example from Spectrum’s recent trip to Adelaide. Because our ‘tours’ are necessarily budget affairs these days we were staying at the iStay Precinct, a backpackers’ palace near the centre of town and, as the name suggests, a fairly new high-rise style accommodation and, most importantly, reasonably cheap.
It was to be the Spectrum to Ariel show on the first night, for which event my old Ariel mate Glyn Mason had flown over with the band’s other FIFOs especially. The gig was at the Semaphore Workers Club, which I believe was the Semaphore Yacht Club in another life.
The Workers Club is run by Comrade Dave Pearse, a devout Communist who has made the club as successful as a live music venue can be in these imprecise times and who remains cheerful about keeping the door prices down while running the place at a profit.
I had hopefully suggested to Dave.. read more

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Dick's Toolbox - More about wine
There are disappointments in life which are important and there are others that really don’t matter. And there are unimportant things that do matter. Take for example a bottle of wine. Many years ago I brought a very expensive bottle of wine under the benign influence of other wine consumed at an extensive tasting of French wines. Fortunately I had a paying job at the time, which helped. Mind you I didn’t tell anybody as I was just extremely embarrassed about spending a lot of money on just one bottle. My excuse was that I thought that I should morally support a friend of mine who had decided that he would become a wine connoisseur. This he eventually did through injudicious expenditure, acquired taste, and considerable perseverance. Then two years later he stopped drinking.
But the truth is that, on the day, I was just a little pissed and in possession of a credit card.
The wine that I purchased was the last one tasted during a very long lunchtime and was, read more