Except it doesn’t.
Sometimes I have a silly idea for a gag in the car. This may result in me desperately trying to find a way to remember it. I asked Siri to set a reminder for the punchline of this one:
What happened in the car then turned into having to attempt to learn a piece of music, which feels to me, as I play it, like a bit of a mental tongue-twister. I can’t say I play it well, but the best bit of the song – a whacking high E chord on top of a pair of bass notes, one of which contains the seventh, is the most fun part to play. It’s so simple. It’s a chord voicing of a straightforward chord. But it sounds so much like a signature part of the original record, it’s glorious!
That’s what happens when I’m in a car.
But other things happen to.
Truth is, everything has some sort of causal link.
A while back, I was booked to do a gig in Plymouth on a Saturday night. As I was already gigging in Plymouth the night after, I applied to do a gig in Truro, and got a hotel to stay over between the two. A couple of days or so before the Saturday gig, it was pulled. I moved my hotel date to a future time when I’m within shooting distance of Plymouth and drove out to Truro on the Friday, having had a fairly long day.
I was supposed to have stayed at the gig in Truro until the end and then gone to my hotel.
But the plans had changed. I never got to see Joe Wells perform. I wish that I had.
Instead, I drove home.
Too fast.
Now, I’m the proud owner of speeding ticket points.
So what happens in the car can have longer-lasting effects, and indeed the butterfly that flapped its wings over my Plymouth date is responsible for the speeding points.
And that’s my story.
Ashley Frieze 