So there I was, helping my son set up his gear for a private gig northwest of Auckland. This procedure involves lugging a considerable number of separate heavy items then joining them together with cables and pedals so they reproduce pleasing sounds.
It's the worst part of being a musician. Well, except for packing it all up again after the performance. I have a regular gig myself and I cherish the three hours I spend singing and playing to people. I don't feel the same about the hour at the end, packing it all up meticulously then squeezing it methodically into the car.
Every cable - and there are many - must be individually wound up and put in a separate bag. Without this care, the whole operation would become a spaghetti tangle requiring hours of work to remedy.
Then there's the regular problem of something not working. You start at the beginning of the system and check every lead, every connection, every amp, every speaker. It's generally something very simple (you're meant to turn it on) but it's a time of enormous frustration.
So there we were, plugging this into that, that into this, checking this, checking that, testing this, testing that and tripping over cables. Holding a cable in my hand, ready to insert it into a suitable orifice, I stopped and turned to my son, saying, "Don't you wish you were a medieval musician wandering the streets with nothing more than a lute?"