|
There's little to say that hasn't been said already. There was a beginning, during which acquaintances were made, lessons were learned, songs were written, many things went wrong, a few things went right, rivalries were formed and grudges were borne. This time is hazy and more than likely not at all worth recollecting, though the guilty parties know what they did oh yes they do.
Then there was the middle, during which band membership increased, shows were played, skills were honed, better songs were written, rivalries were further inflamed and a coup was plotted. It was a time of laughter and copious gin. The good kind, only ever the good kind.
The end came, as it so often does, unexpectedly, like a hand grenade flung into a henhouse, only without the chicken bits everywhere. The coup was executed and Sven was booted, bringing on a period of solitude and reflection. As usual, this period did not last long. Sven was soon replaced by the younger, deeper-voiced Bjørn.
Things began as they so often do, with acquaintances being made, lessons being learned, etc.
|
