The Ned Wood Archive

Joe

Megs and her mates finally showed up around 6:00, which was actually good timing, because Tom and Joe had nothing else planned around then.  

After New York Jazz, they’d gone round the markets.  They’d got an hour or so to kill before Hannah Spencer.  That was after four, when they went to see her.  Speakers Forum. Just to hear her actually.  The tent was really packed, so they didn’t see much.  She’ll have to find a bigger venue in ‘27.   To be fair, she’ll fill the Pyramid Field the way she’s going.

So they’d gone round the markets before then.  Not that Tom was that interested in buying anything.  He’d told Joe that seeing how it was going to be crowded cos everybody went there on Thursday afternoon, then it would be the best time to see how the one way system was working.  So Tom said they had to go up to West Holts with the flow, then along towards Left Field, with the flow, and then round in a clockwise direction like everyone else.  

Joe was thinking that he could maybe see whether he found anything.  He’s always got an eye out for a classy new shirt.  Or a classy new old shirt.  Like second hand or third hand or better from Oxfam.  There’s a great Oxfam tent along one of the runs between West Holts and Left Field.  Joe’s had two or three vintage shirts from there.  Maybe that’s where he got his African one from.  He can’t quite remember. You can get some great paisley shirts there too.  And you can never have too many paisley shirts.  Mind, some of the new stuff ain’t bad.  Plenty of bright new shirts over by the bandstand.  

Joe was also thinking that seeing as how everyone went down the markets on the Thursday afternoon, then maybe that everyone would include a certain young lady that he would really love to bump into again.  So Joe’s trying to work out what would be the best approach to take to increase the chances of bumping into her.  Like if everyone goes in the same direction as Tom wants to, then going in the opposite direction would mean bumping into them.  On the other hand, if you go in the same direction and go in and out of the tents selling stuff, then maybe you’d catch up with them or they’d catch up with you.  So what’s it gonna be Joe?  

He decides to go with Tom.  Plus, it’s easier.  He’ll have to slow Tom down somehow, though.  Get him to actually stop at some of the stalls.  Joe much prefers shopping with George.  It’s more fun.  And George has this knack of finding the best gear.  Plus, he’ll egg Joe on.  Get him to try an even more outrageous shirt or jacket.  George’ll try and get Joe to buy some of those brightly coloured trousers that George is fond of wearing.  Patterned like shirts and fairly baggy.  Not too substantial, but cool.  Maybe one year, Joe’ll get himself some like that.  But he’s not ready yet. He’ll stick with shirts for now.  

Almost the first place they pass is the Oxfam stall on the track from West Holts towards Left Field.  Out front on one of the racks is a shirt guaranteed to grab Joe’s attention.  It’s a beautiful deep red shirt with a range of interwoven leaf-like patterns in cream across front and back.  It’s as if the stall holder knew he was coming.  It’s facing him at the front of the rack screaming buy me, buy me, buy me.  Joe’s tempted.  But he can resist anything including temptation.  For now. So what he does is hide the shirt towards the back of the rack so he can maybe come back later.  Not at the very back which is what everyone does.  He puts the shirt five from the back of the rack where only he can find it.   

Joe cruises the strip looking inside all of the groovy tents, checking out the threads, but also keeping an eye on the punters.  He’s mainly focussed on the older clothes along this stretch, but he’s not fussy.  He’ll check out new gear if he sees any.  Tom tags along.  As far as Joe’s concerned, Tom can hang out with him or go on alone.  They swing right round past Left Field and Bread&Roses and then fork left, Joe keeping his eyes open for shirts and girls.  Any decent shirt, but one particular girl.  There’s a stall that sells football shirts more or less opposite Bread&Roses, but Joe’s decided it isn’t worth going there.  That’s not what he’s after. Along the fork they’ve taken are some great stalls selling all manner of clothing.  There’s the big tent that sells those shirts made up of different patterns sown together.  Those can be excellent – different styles in complementing colour schemes.  Loud Originals.  Joe’s got a few already, but that doesn’t stop him from hiding a couple towards the back of the rack.  Then there’s someone selling African style gear.  He reserves another shirt in that tent too.  He had to dig around to find these – maybe they hadn’t heard that he was coming.  Maybe someone else had got there before him and had hidden them.

Joe’s lost Tom for a moment, but, when he loops round that block of stalls, he spots him in front of the bandstand.  He’s stood listening to a folk singer. Joe stops next to Tom and listens to the singer’s songs about falling in love.  Her songs are beautiful, but Tom’s got itchy feet, so they take in two or three tunes and then move on, following their clockwise path, along the track that heads towards Carhenge.  Tom makes a point of remembering the name, though.  Sarah McQuaid.  Joe doesn’t need to make a point of remembering the lyrics.  He’s already been living them.  The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes.

Joe spots another shirt, this one bright pinks and purples in some sort of Indian subcontinent paisley he thinks, right out at the front of a stall.  Normally this would be the time for him to decide to put his money where his shirts are, but since he heard Sarah McQuaid singing Ewan MacColl he’s going through the motions.  He’s preoccupied with moons and the stars and gifts to the dark and the endless skies.

At Carhenge, they turn right and head along the track up towards the Greenpeace crossroads and the Green Fields.  At that flat stage by the tea bus there is a bit of a crowd watching some pop up performer doing his best to get his audience excited for his escapologist act.  They can be fun those acts that appear there.  They do seem to spend most of their time talking about what they’re gonna do rather than doing it.  Tom and Joe don’t stick around to find out.  Tom’s keen to get to Hannah Spencer before it gets too crowded, so they sail straight past.  

Later, after the party political, they get back to the tent to meet up with Megs and her mates – Jas and Emm.  Once they’ve dumped their stuff, they all go off to get some grub.  Megs brings Joe and Tom up to date on family stuff like what their Mom’s been up to. Jas and Emm listen in just in case there is anything interesting they haven’t heard yet.  Joe’s quite proud of the fact that their Mom seems to be quite popular with Megs’ mates.

It’s Emm’s first Glastonbury, so Tom starts to tell her everything he can about what to do and what to expect.  Megan interrupts him fairly quickly and takes over the conversation to prevent Tom from making too big a fool of himself.  She’s decided she can make fun of Tom well enough herself without his help.  Her subject is “Tom’s Rules of Glastonbury” each of which she introduces then gets Tom to talk about.  She controls the discussion in the same way that an experienced political interviewer would – stating her point and then allowing her interviewee only sufficient time to make it appear that everything she’s said is 100% accurate or tie themselves in knots trying to disprove it.

Among Tom’s rules are: No Flags.  Well that’s pretty obvious.  They just get in the way.  Joe thinks that a flag to identify your camp site would be a good idea, but Tom says they are always pretty stupid and just fall down and anyway you can always find your tent because it’ll be near someone else’s flag.  But doesn’t that negate Tom’s point anyway?

Then there is the No Band T-Shirts rule.  You can’t wear any band T-shirt at all.  Not while you’re at Glastonbury.  Joe managed to circumvent that by wearing a completely white T-Shirt and claiming it was a Gaslight Anthem shirt.  Nowadays he sometimes allows himself a band shirt, but only for a fairly obscure band that isn’t appearing like Crocodiles or Darker My Love.  Megs has got a “give your money away, shorties”  shirt, but Tom doesn’t recognise the Billie Eilish reference.  

“So that’s one of our Glastonbury traditions,” says Megan to Emm.  “The Laying Down of Tom’s Rules.  You are now a welcome member of our humble little group.”

Joe has a tradition of his own.  There are three or four stalls round Glastonbury where you can buy and send a postcard of Glastonbury.  So what he does is buy one for any Glastonbury virgins like Megan’s mate Emm and gets it secretly signed by everyone else before sending it to them so they get a souvenir that arrives a week or so after they’ve got back from the festival.  Sometimes he’d get random strangers to sign the card.  One year he was going to get Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth from Tom Tom Club to sign that year’s card after their gig at Jazz World, but he had to wait so long, he gave up queueing.  Cos, like, five minutes is more than too long.  Sometimes the trouble is that he didn’t always find out the address of the newbies.  Like Megs almost certainly knows where Emm lives, but that isn’t always the case when some of his mates turn up with someone they vaguely know from work.  

Yet another of their traditions is Shangri La on the Thursday for the early evening rock band.  The early evening rock band has been a Shangri La tradition for a few years and they’ve cottoned on to it.  Panic Shack, Pigs, Pigs, etc.  Some of it is rock, some of it is a bit more subtle.  One year it was Kae Tempest. Tom & Joe get into that sort of thing.  George and James, not so much.  But they all go down.  This year it’s Hot Wax. By the time Joe and Tom and Megs and her mates have eaten, it’s time for them to head over and meet the rest of the gang. 

Tom is wearing his “AI;DR” T-shirt in a lame attempt to impress.  Joe’s seen it before, but maybe Megs hasn’t.  It isn’t Tom being passive aggressive.  He’s argued about AI with Joe often enough so they both know where each other stands.  Megs sides with Tom, though, and asks Joe whether he’s still using AI, which he is.  She asks him whether his firm is making folk redundant because of it.  He has to admit that they are.  So there you go, she says.  She clearly thinks she’s won the argument.  

After Hot Wax, after they’ve all met up, George takes them on a tour of some of his favourite joints in the Common.  Someone is playing Man 2 Man, Male Stripper.  George grabs Joe and pulls him towards the music shouting “they’re playing our tune” and they all go in, the gang following George’s lead as you have to when you’re in the southeast corner.  After all, George knows all the best places down there.  Joe tries some of his best moves, but can’t compete with George who is now attracting an admiring, mostly female crowd.  They’ll be disappointed. 

“Who would have thought my dark skin would brighten up this place?” George asks Joe, rhetorically.

“Shine, humble man, shine” is all Joe can reply.

Joe can’t keep up.  None of them can.  Joe leaves George entertaining the masses and wanders off back through Shangri La with Tom and Megs and the girls.  They have a look at the old time rock and roll band swinging in the Rocket Lounge, but decide to head off back to the tents.  Joe told them he wanted a little more peace, but, to be honest, he wanted to put his head on his camp pillow and dream of the lass he met on the conga line.