The following stories are, I suppose, quite topical due to the very recent VS Day celebrations.

The EBC (Elbow Bending Club), with Leslie Braid still employed as resident pianist and crooner magnifique ( Much sought after jobs due to the excellent Robert Maxwell arranged pension that goes with them) have from time to time invaded Europe and Scandinavia.

On the exit of the Hun, Denmark, one of the last countries to be liberated, must have thought all was well and things quickly returned to normal.... then along came the EBC!.

The venue, a beach just outside Copenhagen at Dragor called Fern-Ore, which each year attracts crowds of over 20,000 with artists like Elton John and McCartney etc. The shows run from 12 noon to 6pm each day throughout July and August.

The Swinging Blue Jeans were appearing with Do Diddley, B B King and a variety of Danish Bands. The gig was great and as per the norm, mainly due to there being a few Carlsbergs left, the only people left on site at 7-3Opm were staunch members of the EBC together with pianist Les. Each with a can in hand we casually strolled (staggered) down to the waters edge to round off what had been a perfect day.

As the water lapped at the shore, the serenity of the occasion was set by the strains of 'Wonderful Copenhagan' eminating from the piano on the distant stage (Courtesy of L Braid - weddings a speciality, light work done with pony and trap).

Just as the sky was reddening in the initial stages of a Scandinavian sun set, we were joined by an elderly gentleman on a three wheeler motor cycle with a small trailer on the back and accompanied by his ferocious looking Alsation dog. The man stopped and asked if we were English, when we said we were he smiled and a conversation developed. Sadly, we couldn't help but notice that the gentleman had lost both legs. Ennis, not renowned for his diplomatic ability, asked the man how he had lost his legs. The old gentleman explained it was a long story, but that if we would take a beer with him he would explain. He then pulled back the cover on his trailer to expose.... four cases of Danish nectar!.

The piano playing stopped (a fully trained member of the EBC can smell beer miles away) and within seconds we heard the grunts of young Braid as his aged legs sped him towards us in the style of Linford Christie (although with a far smaller lunch-box),

Once served with nectar, we settled back and awaited the old gentlemans story. Apparently, when the Allies were flushing out the Hun with the odd grenade or two, our friend was caught up in the battle and lost both his legs. Happily for us, his love of the English had not wained and with the dogs permission we all had a good old chin-wag for a few hours. Eventually our gathering had to break up, so we wished our elderly friend goodbye and listened to his little motor bike as he rode ott. The purr of the engine sounded like a Rolls Royce, but then the trailer was a hell of a lot lighter than when he arrived!.
Only a few weeks ago, four very tired Swinging Blue Jeans arrived at Hamburg airport at 8-OOam to be met by a new promoter who we had never met or worked for before.

It was obvious that our reputation had preceded us, as this very tall and (unusual for a German promoter) jovial chap called Rolf greeted us. He was carrying a plastic bag on the side of which was emblazoned the word 'SPAR', which seemed rather strange, especially at that time in the morning!

Welcome boys he declared 'I've heard all about you from Mike Pender and Brian Poole' (both of whom are currently having their application for membership of the EBC scrutinised). With that, Rolf magically produced a bottle of champigne and six plastic cups and warned "You don't leave the airport until the bottle is empty" . I suppose you can guess the rest!.


P.S. I think Rolf must have learnt the art of serving champagne from Dave Berry who is often seen whipping off one of Marti's peep-toed sandals, then nonchalantly pouring the champers into the heel so that it splashes out of the peep-toe and into a large brown mug!

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