Every since I got dumped on St. Valentine's Day a few years ago the occasion has sort of lost its sheen. I had even given the girl a silver bracelet earlier than evening at dinner, which she then proceeded to keep! So I think I had a narrow escape there anyway. Anyway, I'm now sort of against having a day when you're supposed to tell someone you love them, as if anyone should be told when to do that. Keeps the old money-train in greeting cards rolling along ... Bah, humbug!
Last week at the Belle and Sebastian concert it was the best time. If you don't 'know their work', they are a sort of hippy blend of fazed out pop, with the odd foray into cha-cha-cha, followed by a bit of the old hoopla. Get what I mean? On the Valentino theme, at the end the lead singer, Stuart, was taking requests and I couldn't hear what he heard and then decided to do, but the one I was rooting for was played, much to my delight, last of all - 'If you find yourself caught in love', cha cha, say a prayer to the man above, shez sam. And the old dancing shoes came into their own and I followed them by necessity about the floor. But the best moment of the night was the comedy of this big lanky part of the string section who came out to the front microphones, I think of his own accord, to join in the harmonising. He only stayed for one Ah-ha and then left again like 'all my work here is done'! But then he reprised his role, by coming out the next song stagedown once more. There he was all six foot four of him, thin as a pencil, and all of a sudden holding up what seemed like an egg. Then ... sha-cha-sha it went at high harmonious frequency fitting into the song like you wouldn't believe, played with barely controlled seriousness. So, 'if you find yourself out of love, say a prayer to the man above, down tools till another day, go and take a holiday.'
2 comments:
Your lanky string section person made me think of all the eccentric people that I know. Everybody is different I know but some are more different than others. I love what most peolple would probably call eccentric people. Their powerful uniqueness makes me smile. Isn't difference great?
If difference wasn't great, I'd be very much in trouble. It's a pity the way people feel they have to homogenise everything. I dread to think what the high street will look like in fifty years time, a Tesco on every corner. But it is bloody cheaper, darn-it. But variety comes at a price, so I'll just need to get up the town before five from now on and stop shopping when every one else is sleeping or getting drunk. Virtue involves spending some time as well! But yes, diversity in people is especially what makes life so interesting. Thanks Dom, big bad Dom! (remember the advert?)
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