When I was very small I attended a tiny primary school in a tiny (yet quite famous, thanks to W. Shakespeare) village in the Scottish Highlands. For writing practice we had to write a daily diary entry, documenting our innocent childhood pursuits and ambitions.
I was clearly always an optimistic - if somewhat naive - child, because every diary entry of mine ended with the same sentence: "It will be fun." No matter whether the event in question was Sarah-Jane's birthday party, the Sunday School picnic or a trip to the dentist, I was always firmly convinced that it was going to be a great laugh.
Whether any of these juvenile shenanigans actually *were* fun or not, I have no way of telling. Once they'd happened, I never mentioned them again. Reading back, you're left with the impression that something unspeakably awful - possibly in a sinister Twilight Zone-type way - happened at every single party, picnic and dentistry session I ever went to.
Twenty-eight years may have passed, but some things don't change. I've been banging on since May about how much fun last night's Nick Cave gig was going to be. Do I follow it up with a glowing review about how fantastic it all was? No. Since I was stuck at the back and couldn't see anything at all, except for 5,000 middle-aged ex-goths and the boy Cave's shadow cavorting on the wall, I felt mightily let down. So I'll refer you instead to this review from the Independent, and just add "what he said."
Still, looking on the bright side, I'm off to see Husky Rescue on the 8th at Bush Hall and, as coincidence would have it, also on the 10th on the Isle of Wight. It will be fun.
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8 comments:
Oh dear, that is a shame. Never mind, ring the bell and bide the danger etc.
At least you'll get to see the mighty Ulrich Schnauss at the IOW thing - but maybe you'll come to the conclusion that he's like Eat Static doing Slowdive covers.
Aw, pickle....
I'm still looking for those Barry Adamson CD's for you, for what it's worth.
As least you can be happy that you are obviously a natural optomist!
Of course, life may have knocked that out of you.......
Nice blog btw. I've linked to you from mine.
Ahh, evening all. First off, I'll be very happy with Ulrich Schnauss if he's anything like Lali Puna doing Slowdive covers.
Secondly, I'm thinking that maybe the Barry Adamson CDs have been transported by sinister forces into the fearsome dark hole where Steve is currently battling it out with something horrible, black and shiny. It's also probably full of pen tops, odd socks and the vital missing bits from your Lego sets, James.
And thirdly, a big welcome to Mrs A, and thanks very much for the link - I'm honoured! Rest assured I'm still a ludicrous optimist, although I *have* just spent the evening in the pub muttering things like "I hate New Year" and "I hate the Notting Hill Carnival". I'm great company, me.
This is exactly why I hate gigs. I'm too old to go down the front so I end up at the back where I get a lovely view of the back of sombody's head. Sometimes the top of the bass player's barnet will be visible. So I sod off to the bar to queue for four hours for a plastic beaker of slop. And I hate the Notting Hill Carnival as well - the last time I went it took me four hours or so to find a way out of it, which is marginally better than the stress and bother of when I lived on the route. I used to dread it.
And I hate New Year with a passion.
Got anymore moans you can throw my way?
It's worth getting hold of those Barry Adamsons though...
Ohhh, there weren't any stands. Just a great big room with a flat floor and thousands of people taller than me. But that's not to say it wasn't good; it was actually brilliant. I just wish I'd been able to actually see something. I mean, I paid 60 quid!
I'll be quiet about this now, shall I?
ooh, ring the bell and bide the danger....still my favourite narnia book....
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