There's a guy who organises gigs for me sometimes. He's running a club in Ealing and hasn't asked me to do it yet. Odd. You'd think he'd prioritise someone he books.

Having said that, tonight he had me booked to do a gig in London, not too far from Ealing.

During the meanwhile, my life isn't just about doing gigs. It's not just about work. There are other things to it too. I'm not always sure what they are, but sometimes I'll commit to being a part of something and if I commit, then I'll do it. That's what being committed is all about. So, let me tell you a story.

Some time ago, on Facebook, I noticed that there was someone trying to get people to pose with a photo of the Allo Allo actor Arthur Bostrom. I'm not going to claim to be a huge fan of the guy, but I've enjoyed his hilarious mispronunciations and I did once see him in the Merry Widow, in which he hilariously mis...

Anyway, I said that I'd join the facebook group or whatever and have my photo taken. Occasionally, I'd notice someone else having theirs taken and be reminded of my commitment. Tonight, realising that I'd be in London, the last exchange with the photographer/organiser having lain dormant a while, I contacted her to offer a chance to meet up. She suggested that, since my gig was not too far from her home, I might drop in for coffee before I did the gig. Job's a good un.

What I expected was to help someone out with a bit of silliness. What I got was something much more edifying. Please join in yourself if you can. See www.thesignedphotograph.com for more info on this. Anna is a woman on a mission. This mission has importance beyond the apparent goal (to collect photos) and if you're one of the people who gets involved, then you're going to be a part of something special. So I got my boost for the week then and there.

For every boost, there's a flop. The gig was cancelled.

Then for every flop, there's a plan B - I'd go to the other gig to see how it was faring. I'd been asked by its organiser to post a bulletin looking for acts, so perhaps there would be someone good on - or maybe I could sneak on.

As I arrived the organiser looked relieved. "There's an Ashley-shaped hole in the bill" he proclaimed. "I'll get me guitar" I retorted.

So, I did a gig. I lost and gained and offered and received all in one bizarrely karmacally balanced evening of joy.