Monday, May 28, 2007

Hungover like a little monster after Sarah's wedding, I dragged myself through to Glasgow last night to watch my mother's choir supporting the London Gay Men's choir.

Uncharitably I had low expectations of the concert. Unrelated to my mother's own choir and more to do with the fact that the concert was titled "Bad Boys".

But in fact, the night was charmingly surprising. In large part to do with the fact that the whole concert was signed and the signing man was the hottest chap I have seen for some considerable time. Who knew sign language could be so engagingly presented..? Particularly when presented in a skin tight black vest.

You had to wonder whether Frankie's "Relax" was included in the repertoire simply so the signer could make a variety of particularly entertaining gestures. But then there are worse reasons.

Anyway, enough drool. My mother's choir were lovely. I squinted hard trying to hear her above everyone else and imagined that I did momentarily. Another sign of age but I find now that hearing her sing does make me weep with an odd turned about pride.

Her choir did a concert last summer, she had herself a solo - beloved soundtrack to my childhood "can't help lovin that man of mine" - and I sat up in the balcony peering down in the darkness sobbing like a six year old.

They're doing a real full length concert in a couple of weeks. 16 June at St Augustines in Edinburgh. Do come.

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