You know your life has taken a wrong turn somewhere when friends post photos on Facebook of them about to enjoy Bruce Springsteen live in Melbourne, whilst you stand in a queue to watch Gyles Brandreth in Shrewsbury.
The town was even more sodden than it is usually. The Severn was pumping through the heart of the town like a demented giant with a severed artery. The theatre car park was six feet under. There's signs to a new housing estate called “New Town Meadows” or something. Now, really, why would anyone buy there? Anyway, on the way home my mind turned to the theme of the afternoon's show – happiness.
There's the big stuff – old friends, say. There's achievement – your own book nestling at the top of an Amazon chart so obscure it appears to only contain your own book . There's the pleasure of the journey, in this case a yellow moon rising in all its glory – like a ruddy-faced farmer leaning over a hedge. There's love, as you bicker yet again over the class-war that is the conundrum as to whether its Shrewsbury or Shrowsbury. And there's the silliness that comes from pronouncing Meole Brace as though it's a place in Italy (do it properly and I promise you'll giggle). Not a bad weekend, then, regardless of rain and place.
Gyles Brandreth, by the way, was flipping brilliant...
The town was even more sodden than it is usually. The Severn was pumping through the heart of the town like a demented giant with a severed artery. The theatre car park was six feet under. There's signs to a new housing estate called “New Town Meadows” or something. Now, really, why would anyone buy there? Anyway, on the way home my mind turned to the theme of the afternoon's show – happiness.
There's the big stuff – old friends, say. There's achievement – your own book nestling at the top of an Amazon chart so obscure it appears to only contain your own book . There's the pleasure of the journey, in this case a yellow moon rising in all its glory – like a ruddy-faced farmer leaning over a hedge. There's love, as you bicker yet again over the class-war that is the conundrum as to whether its Shrewsbury or Shrowsbury. And there's the silliness that comes from pronouncing Meole Brace as though it's a place in Italy (do it properly and I promise you'll giggle). Not a bad weekend, then, regardless of rain and place.
Gyles Brandreth, by the way, was flipping brilliant...
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