We once had a gig in the women's handbag department at the Bon Marche department store. It was two hours of one funny moment after another.

In front of a large crowd at a major folk festival, my wife and music partner Anna was singing "The Trees Grow High" and when she came to the line about "all the young boys playing at the ball", she inadvertently substituted "playing with their balls".

I used to be in a band that did psuedo-medieval humorous songs. We were playing in a tavern and there was a drunken heckler there. One gets to expect that if one plays in taverns, but this guy was a drunken medieval musicologist who wanted to scream at us about all the mistakes we were making in historical authenticity.

We were auditioning for a gig at a tavern's open mic when Anna caught a fingerpick in the guitar strings and shot it into the audience like a slingshot. We got the gig anyway . . .

John Peekstok