Plodding

This morning, we are participating in something called the Ponton Plod. The start time is 8.30am which makes for an earlyish start for a Sunday and we head over to the wonderfully named Great Ponton, near Grantham. It’s not a race (apparently) and there are three routes of 27 miles, 17 miles and 11.5 miles, which you can walk or run, all on a mix of footpaths, bridleways, tracks and minor roads.

We opt to run the 17 mile route. As we line up at the start, both dogs are excited and predictably noisy. Doggo knows he’s about to get a run but I feel MD hasn’t a clue what’s about to happen but feels he ought to get excited anyway, just to not feel left out. We set out over a footbridge crossing the A1 and head out towards Stately Hall. As it’s early, the weather is still a little on the chilly side but it soon warms up and the sun shines all morning. Thankfully we’ve had a dry few weeks (rain wise, not alcohol wise) so the ground is firm too, none of that mud stuff. So the running is pretty easy and Lincolnshire is of course pancake flat.

Today the plan is to take it steady and enjoy the scenery. Of course, L would say that’s always her race plan. My other plan, more secret plan, is to eat as much of the complimentary food as possible. There are three checkpoints en route all with home-made refreshments. I think this the dogs’ plan as well. So we let the more serious runners go on ahead but leave the walkers for dust. Well eventually.

We have a sheet of directions to follow but the route is also helpfully signed with quite a few red markers pointing the way. It’s a great course although some of the stiles are not dog friendly ones and I end up lifting Doggo and MD over a lot of them. MD simply has to say hello to everyone, whether they be horses, sheep or aliens. We desperately try to gag him when we pass the cows.

It’s a longish trek, six miles to the first checkpoint, which when it arrives takes us a little by surprise as it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. After a spot of refuelling, on millionaire's shortbread among other things, we push on.

Four miles later, we’re in the pleasant village of Harlaxton and the second checkpoint, complete with sandwiches and more cakes. Then we’re on our way again.

Just before the third and last checkpoint at Wyville we encounter... a hill. Hmmmm. Didn’t I say that Lincolnshire was pancake flat? Well apart from this bloody big hill obviously.

Then a few miles later it’s back over the A1 bridge and we’ve done. I lash the dogs to a nearby fence and after a glass or two of squash; I sit down with a cup of hot tea. Where’s L whilst I’m chilling like this you ask? Our chosen route was 17 miles but her marathon training schedule says 18 miles this weekend, so she’s gone for a jog down the road to make up the distance. Some people. When she gets back I’m more than ready for my hot soup and one of the huge portions of home-made apple pie.

A pleasant morning out and they raised £1200 for good causes.

There’s no one in at home when we get in, so we can wallow in a hot bath and poke each other’s aching calves, just for fun, in peace. There's ‘no one at home’ as regards the dogs either, all the lights are out there, as they sleep off the 17 miles.

In the evening we head over to Derby nice and early for a few beers before heading up to the reopened and refurbished Rockhouse. It’s my first time here since it reopened and I never went when it was called the Future either, so it’s been a long time, something like 15 years, since I was last here. It’s all totally different but pleasant enough and not the bomb site it used to be.

This was meant to be a headlining slot for Rob Jones aka the Voluntary Butler Scheme but he appears to have been bumped down the bill because local Derby band The Souvenirs have been parachuted in above him to headline, which is a shame. Poor ticket sales perhaps?

It occurs to me that this is not really the best venue for him. His quirky music is, after all, more music for your living room than for a rock club.

First though, we have a short set from a chap called Tom Campbell, a singer-songwriter from Derby. Who armed with just an acoustic guitar is excellent. It may be just him and his guitar but he makes a powerful sound with it as he dishes out a mix of Indied-up folk n blues.



Rob is still on in the advertised 9.30 slot but now, with the Souvenirs to follow, he’s on a deadline, so we’ll only get half an hour of him. Consequently the set is pretty much what we’ve heard him do before, which may be his best stuff but there’s now no room for him to experiment on us and dip deeper into his new record. He’s on ‘tour’ to promote his long promised and finally delivered debut album ‘At Breakfast, Dinner and Tea’. Although this amounts to pretty much a collection of all the stuff that he’s already had out. That said, it’s still very good and just as eccentric as expected.

Rob takes to the stage behind his vintage piano and old fashioned microphone, the rest of his multitude of musical instruments scattered about him. His is, of course, a one man show but we know we’ll still get the full band experience. This is indie pop for loners by a loner. Well perhaps not, but that’s often how he comes over. I’m never sure if his manner, shy and unassuming, is put on or not.

He gets busy building up the track that is the quirky love song ‘Multiplayer‘ but he still hasn't got that haircut he so fondly sings about. Jones puts the song together bit by bit. Adding guitar, keyboards, a drum beat etc to the track, then he samples his own voice for the backing vocals. Then job done he can sing and add other instruments over the top. It’s wonderfully low-tech but genius too and shows what a gifted chap he is. He’s either ahead of his time or years past it, it’s hard to tell. I’ve heard him likened to Arcade Fire, only with around ten less members and better lyrics. Well quaint nonsensical ones about everyday things. No gritty realism here, only songs about failing watch batteries.

So if he wants to be a super cool rock star, and not bumped down the bill by a local band, he’s got it all wrong. No band members to banter with, no cool name and no songs about sex, drugs and rock n roll. Unless you count lines like ‘if you were a broccoli I’d turn vegetarian for you’ and ‘if you bought running shoes, as breathless as I’d get, I’d buy running shoes too’, both from ‘Trading Things In’. Do we care about this uncoolness, not a bit. There are 50 people here tonight, which is about 40 more than we expected, all loving it, charmed and amused by his performance.

‘Like coffee and tea I need you regularly’ ah, the romance of it. I hope these heartfelt chat up lines work for him.

The songs may be daft but they’re quality too. He has an armoury of neglected singles, all full of clever riffs and catchy choruses. Well they were played twice on 6 Music he reckons. Such as the rocking ‘Tabasco Sole’ with another great lyric ‘wear a De La Soul t-shirt once in a while to make you feel more hop-hop than you are’, which naturally has since spawned its own t-shirt.

There’s also the added ‘excitement’ with his act that, as good as his shows are, you feel that things could fall apart at any moment but they never do.

He picks up a kazoo and a ukulele for ‘The Eiffel Tower and The BT Tower’. The kazoo makes it into the lyrics, where he rhymes it with ‘lasso’ as he sings explaining playing the songs of the Pet Shop Boys for a girl on such an instrument.

‘Split’ is played with the help, if that’s the right word, of a funny slidey thing that he puts on top of his microphone. No idea what you call that.

It’s all over far too soon; it’s all simply, well, charming and all for £3. Probably the first time in history that Seetickets have made a loss on their 10% booking fee. I imagine nothing would propel The Voluntary Butler Scheme into the mainstream and that actually is fine. So until the next time Rob.



We caught a bit of the Souvenirs on the bill at Joy Formidable back in June. I’d like to see more but we’re kind of tired after all our plodding and we had only come to see Rob, so we head for home. Walking out before the headliners. Well I never. So rock n roll.