I was delighted to receive an invitation to the wedding of Jim McCracken and Trisha Brown, and to be asked to DJ as well. So, on the Thursday evening I met up with Sian and Dean from Rugby to catch a flight to Belfast City airport.
The weather was horrendous, strong winds, lashing rain, and to Dean's horror, a small propeller driven plane. His reaction when he saw the pilot was even funnier though "That's all we need, a woman driver !"
She did a great job though, taxied out to the runway, a little pause so that she could touch up her makeup and then it was high heel to the metal and off we took.
Forty five minutes later we landed in Belfast and were collected by Phil Shields. I have to at this point say a big thank you to Phil. Not only did he open his home to us for the weekend, but actually gave up his own bed so that the visitors could have the beds and he slept on the settee for the weekend.
Sian was continuing her bizarre medical experiments on Dean by trying to burn his eardrums out with some drops that were supposed to be washed out of the ear after a minute, but she'd forgotten to tell Dean that bit and told him to stop whinging when his ears started stinging. As Phil had to be up for work at 6.30am on the Friday morning and we were in effect sitting in what was his bedroom for the weekend, drinking beer, we decided to have an early night. Only for everyone to be woken by my mobile ringing and vibrating on a wooden floor 45 minutes later by Keith Money saying they had also arrived safely.
Friday, the big day for Jim and Trisha. We arrived in good time at the City Hall in Belfast for what turned out to be a very quick ceremony, followed by photos in a very impressive setting. Jim scrubs you quite well and Trisha looked radiant. I did wonder why she was carrying a bunch of leeks (And it turns out every fella I spoke to thought it was a bunch of leeks), but was informed in no uncertain terms that they were flowers not leeks !
As we'd stolen Phil's car for the day we weren't on the coach to the reception venue and Sian had programmed the postcode in the Satnav so off we set. Half an hour later we pulled up outside Trisha's house because Sian had put the postcode for the RSVP off the invitation in, not the venue postcode ! I supplied the right postcode, and an hour after leaving the City Hall arrived at the Cottonmount Arms.
Speeches over, some nice food, and the music started at 7pm. Jim had lined up some of the cream of Irish DJs, North and South, Steve Cato, Chris Morgan, Keith Money and me for an allnighter.
Sadly, it didn't happen. Despite the venue being owned by Jim's Uncle, at 12.30 last orders was called, and at 1.30am the music stopped. I understand a similar thing happened when Jim organised an allnighter here previously. All a bit of a blow really, as Keith was down to DJ at 2am and me at 3am, so it was a long way to travel, and somewhat expensive as well, to not get to DJ ! That said we still had a really good night. Keith and Sandra have been friends of mine for nearly twenty years, and although we are often in the same venue, we rarely get the chance to have a good drinking session, we made up for it tonight though, and Dean was struggling to keep up towards the end of the night. Mostly because when we asked if he wanted another drink he couldn't hear us due to Sian's evil experiments, so we got him one anyway !
'Sian's Executive Limo's' used the company Kia to drop Keith and Sandra off at their hotel, and came back for us having passed through a Police roadblock three times on the way. A couple more beers at Phil's and then off to bed.
Saturday morning we had a ride out to see Kev up in Newry. We took the scenic route there (Sian put the postcode in the Satnav again), and the sun was shining brightly. I was introduced to Kev's charming wife Ann, and she took us on a guided tour of the beautiful part of the country she lives in. A few beers in the pub, and then a nice buffet meal provided by Ann, and then we set off back to Belfast. Kev was hoping to come with us, but Sian had persuaded Ann to say she was coming instead, so she got in the car and we drove off leaving a very disconsolate Kev waving goodbye from the door. Ten minutes later we came back, and Ann relented and let Kev come with us instead.
We followed Kev's directions and it was major A roads and Motorway all the way so took twenty minutes less to get back to Carrick Fergus where Phil lives.
We settled down with a few beers, and Sian took the Company Kia out again to collect Keith and Sandra first, then straight back out for Chris and Carlos, and Olof and Jo. She managed to get stopped by the police yet again on the way, and despite ending up in the middle of a marching band at one point, returned safely with her cargo.Phil did the first DJ spot, followed by me, and then Keith Money gave us a wonderful two and a half hours, especially considering he didn't have a record polisher assisting him (Ask Keith when you see him) leaving Chris with the next spot, and then Phil finished the night off for us
The beer was going down well, and because there was one less chair than there were people, we sort of did a disorganised game of musical chairs all night, so you ended up talking to everyone for part of the night. It really was a great night. I know we all talk about having good nights with mates, but this was one of the best I've ever had. The music was superb throughout, there was as much food and beer as you wanted, and the company was great, and at some point in the night we realised that even though there were only eleven of us there, we had Irish, English, Welsh, Scots, Swedish, and Mexican people present. So it really was the inaugural allnighter of the Carrick Fergus International Soul Club ! I was going to post playlists, but it all got rather messy and I haven't a clue what I played anyway, so that's not going to happen I'm afraid.
Sadly, around 6am, Keith and Sandra had to leave. Now on Thursday night when they arrived Keith had managed to leave his glasses behind in the taxi. After much searching, the hotel rang the taxi firm who said yes they had found them, and would deliver them out to Keith at the Cottonmount Arms. After they left Phil's there was a pair of glasses left on the mantelpiece. Nearly everyone there owned a pair of glasses (It must be an age thing !), and everyone said they had theirs, so we naturally assumed that Keith had lost his glasses again.
When Sian returned Chris, Carlos, Jo, and Olof also decided it was time to leave, but not before Chris, Olof and Kev gave us all a rousing, completely out of tune, rendition of 'Hit The Road Jack', allegedly the version that Tony Clarke would have recorded if he had actually ever recorded it. I thought Little Wee Jo was actually going to wee herself she was laughing that much !!!
Sian dropped them off and returned to tell us that the glasses were actually Chris's. He'd checked whether he had his case with him, but not whether he'd put the glasses in the bloody case !
Bed for a couple of hours, only to be woken by Sian conducting more medical experiments, and Dean screaming (That's not true actually, but it sounds good). A leisurely morning spent listening to a few more records, and then an afternoon spent watching the Rugby League whilst finishing off the last of the 24 cans Sian had bought for me (She had, quite cleverly I thought, done an internet shop at Tesco and had the weekend's food and beer delivered to Phil's house in Carrick)
The horrendous weather had returned by Sunday, and when we got the the airport Sian was relieved to find that the plane was a jet and not a propeller driven one. She actually said though "They have probably swapped it because it's so windy"
I asked her "Where do you think they got the jet from then ? The 'Spare Jet For Windy Weather Cupboard' ?" Honestly ! A good flight back got us into Birmingham early, and I was home by midnight.
All told, despite not actually DJing at the wedding, this was one of the best weekends I've had for a long time, and I know everyone else thought so as well. So, to all my friends, I salute you, I feel like death today, but it was worth every minute of it.
Oh, and Sian left a pair of shoes behind.
