Let’s start by answering the question. It worked out that me and my pals could all go in the disabled space (me in the wheelchair) - meaning that we could all enjoy the gig together!
As a bonus, this also meant of course that I could enjoy the band The Comet is Coming without feeling awkward and (I’m quite specifically thankful about this) not six inches away from someone else’s backside.
We really enjoyed it. Massive jazz-funk electronica’s not my kind of thing, true, but I totally appreciated the musicianship, the production, lights and sound. And it’s always nice to be with friends!
Tonight’s musical evening couldn’t really be more different. We’re watching The Last Night of The Proms. Shekku Kenneh-Mason is making faces behind his 300-year-old cello. In the breaks, Sandi Toksvig is talking about how great it all is, and some other lady just said it’s wonderful how these prom concerts are accessible to everyone.
“Tickets are 400 quid, love,” I said out loud to that.
It was always popular in our house growing up. I’d be allowed to stay up for Last Night of The Proms. I decided to call the Intrepids to check whether they were watching.
“No, flags, Dad, flags. Have you got your flags ready?”
The soprano has just come out wearing what looks like a fuchsia dressing gown. It won’t be long before she’s sea-shantying and rule-britannia-ing with the best of them. It wouldn’t be surprising if there’s a union-jack reveal beneath that fuchsia. This crowd love that kind of thing.
“Not gonna lie,” Sammy said, “These opera singers - not for me.”
I thought back to last night and the pounding, almost psychedelic sound of The Comet is Coming. Music, I mean in all its hugeness, is truly wonderful, isn’t it?
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