TM might actually be turning into an honest-to-goodness band. We arrived variously late, hungover and ill to Saturday's 6-hour practice at the Brill Building/Core Studios and set up our kit. Dave, running enormously late and with an inflamed throat that meant he couldn't sing, turned up as the rest of us battered through the first few tunes of the set. A brief conversation about the nature of painkillers ensued, leading to Dave garlging some ground-up Nurofen dissolved in a cup of vending machine coffee.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted," he said. "I almost vomited."

It worked, and we proceeded to the rocking. We seem to have reached the point where the quality of the playing depends more on our collective state of mind and how well we've managed to level our respective volumes. By the end of the rehearsal, warmed up, fed and less hungover, we pretty much nailed everything we needed to nail - I suspect the success or failure of Friday will hinge upon how well we all manage to contain our apprehension...

(One interesting thing that came out of the practice was that I sang for the first time. Problems with this include an inability to play the bass at the same time - I have trouble walking when I'm playing - and a vocal range that spans something less than an octave. Still, even though I won't be singing at the gig, it does bode well for maybe doing backing vocals sometime.)

* * *

Doug and I had arranged to meet up with Waxy and co up north in Braemar after the rehearsal, so we loaded up the wagon with boarding gear and set off.

We hit Perth around 9 and dodged the neds* to buy a crate of beer and a half bottle of Glenfiddich, and got the hammer down so we'd get to Mar Lodge at a reasonable time. I cracked open a beer because hey, it's nice to be the passenger sometimes. Somewhere just after Glenshee, Doug's iRiver, set on random, started playing Eve of the War from The War of the Worlds. As in Jeff Wayne's 1978, double-disc rock musical concept album version of The War of the Worlds.

I have to tell you, swigging beer while speeding through a moonlit, almost lunar highland mountain pass with bloated, genius prog rock narrating a Martian invasion of 19^th century Earth is a rare treat. We got to Mar Lodge about 10.30 pm and rallied through the snowy grounds. I was dizzy with the spectacle (and the beer, and the prog rock) of it all.

We reclined in luxury and drank beer. And criticised some creative Scrabble spelling, but of such things exciting blog entries are not made**

On Sunday Doug and I headed back to Glenshee for the first boarding of the year. The snow was mercifully fresh, and despite the biting wind and rocky patches, it was good fun. My faith in Scottish boarding has been restored.

All in all, an exhausting but otherwise excellent weekend. Long may they continue!

* What is it with the neds these days? They're everywhere. Has society suddenly become predominantly ned, and we, the non-ned, are the exception? It's bloody scary, I can tell you. Next week: I lament the way that kids have never had it so good.
** "Valted". What the hell is "valted"?