I was at The Garland Ox, the then venue of Bodmin Folk Club. I'd gone to see Pauline Cato and Tom McConville (and grand they were) but my wife sneakily informed the MC that I had a harmonica in my pocket (no, I wasn't just pleased to see her...) I found meself up on the rickety wooden stage for a floor spot, playing Carolan's Concerto solo on a G harmonica (yeah, I know, wrong bloody key...) I started to tap my foot as I played it. To my horror, the bit of stage I was standing on started to bounce back at my tapping foot, so loose were the boards. This reaction of the stage was completely out of time with the music and my own tapping. I was getting horribly confused, so I kind of leapt down off the stage towards the audience and just carried on playing. When you've got a gobful of harmonica you can hardly make a witty quip to explain what you're doing, and I distinctly remember the looks of utter bemusement on everyone's faces at this dramatic gesture. When I got to the end I just burbled something utterly incomprehensible to explain what had happened. I got the distinct impression that my mumblings has explained what had happened to precisely no-one. But at least I did get through the bloody piece!