I left work in plenty of time to get to my gig. The requested arrival time was way earlier than necessary. Still, I managed to get some warm-up time and messed about with a piano that would be used later on.

When it came time to do my thing, I think I managed to amuse and offend the audience in equal measure. They weren't keen on the ruder aspects of my work, but I think I got away with it by attempting to be genuinely charming and using phrases like "even doing this one in a Noel Coward voice doesn't appear to ameliorate the experience".

Ameliorate.

What a tosser.

I scooted pretty sharpish, having pushed enough boundaries for one evening. I had to get to Leeds in order to continue my weekend as intended.

I was in the car, listening to Radio 2. It was about 20 minutes to 11. They interrupted the program to bring some breaking news. Jazz player and broadcaster...

No!!!

When they start an announcement like this you try to guess, from the description who they mean. Jazz player and broadcaster... it had to be Humph. If they were announcing it like this... then... he had to be... please be a knighthood. Please be some sort of celebration of the still living legend.

Nope.

We lost Humphrey Lyttelton.

Sitting on the freshly laid carpet at my friend's house in Leeds, on the outside of one or two mini barrels of lager, we mused that there would be a great celebration of his life and works over the next few weeks and months and that we could appreciate him all the more... but... I'd rather he were still with us.

Can you grieve over someone you never really knew?