The Birth of Andyism.

Having left the good folk in The Forest Of Dean, after a most enjoyable gig, I'm on the road to Salisbury, and in good time to implement carefully laid plans to watch the Irish stuff the Scots in the rugby. Like all best laid plans…. they didn't work out. Fifty miles from Salisbury, my old Volvo began to ail with the silent resignation of a faithful donkey. I wouldn't have known if I hadn't seen the temperature gauge needle move towards the red zone with the speed of excrement though a goose. I quickly lost power and found myself struggling to find a gate in a ditch on the A417…..but this is England, there are no ditches, there are no gates, so I followed the sign for a quarry works, which said 'Private Property. Work Vehicles Only. Do Not Enter', and parked by the front gate. As the car cooled down, I heard The Flower of Scotland' on the radio and wept. Two days into a 21-day tour….the car is fucked, and Scotland are leading by 12 points to 3. I suddenly felt like an old and lonely man.

I hate to be a spoilsport, but I have bad tidings for all religions, especially the Jews. You are wasting your time waiting for the Messiah….he is already come and gone…. His name is Andy, and he works for the AA, in Gloucester. Why he chose to appear to a heathen like myself, is the first glorious mystery of Andyism, but I carefully documented his doings while he was on earth, and can back my accounts with receipts, broken hose pipes, and other evidence. I know that this could be the death knell for all the other religious tourism industry moneyspinners, ….Medjugori, Lourdes, Mecca, Wailing Wall,

…as these will shortly be replaced by a new shrine, called 'Gloucester Sand and Gravel'.

"What do you reckon?"

"Well, that's your problem there mate" say Andy, holding a disconnected pipe, with part of the radiator still in it.

"What caused that?" said the owner of the 13yr. old Volvo. " Iss fatigue, init?"

My world has been hanging by a thread, and now the thread has snapped…and Ireland are buckling. I'm hoping that there will be a song in this, but I know that the lyric would be too depressing, so I'm denied even that crumb of comfort.

"Let me make a call, Mate"

Andy makes several calls…locates a replacement radiator in a Gloucester breakers yard….drives back to Gloucester to pick it up…replaces doomed radiator on the side of the road, and sends me on my way, advising me to not forget the antifreeze, as the forecast was not all that great? Let no one say that I have not seen the lord. For the record, the day was the 10th of March 2007, somewhere on the A417…..and his name is Andy.

And so I proceeded to Liverpool, Cromarty, Glasgow, Newcastle…..etc, without further alarm. Thanks to all of you who showed up at the gigs….I had a great time…I hope that all of you did too. Coming back in the autumn to erect shrine to Andy on A417 and squeeze in a few more gigs.

Love, Mick (confirmed Andyist)

Mick Hanly is brought to you by the good offices of Dr. John Barrow of Stoneyport Associates, Scotland.