A bit of variety on the bus front. I was waiting to get off the bus yesterday morning, work bound, listening listening to the Pet Shop Boys, when I thought I saw the bus driver moving his lips as if in speech. I craned forward imperiously: “I’m sorry, were you trying to speak to me?” At which point I couldn’t help but notice that he was a handsome young thing.
He said he hadn’t said anything to me but made some quip (that made me feel like a lecherous old fool) about my optimism in thinking it. At which point the girl on the front seat helpfully chimed in with a “he’s my favourite bus driver in the whole of Edinburgh. He’s always got a smile for everybody and he’s the best driver.” Luckily, the bus arrived at the stop at this point so the impromptu fanclub was dispersed.
So, more inattentiveness in my blogging habits.
I had a fabulous completely uncultural weekend in London last weekend. I saw the most enduring love of my life Neil Tennant in concert at O2 on Friday night (hence the iPod playlist). I spent the day in a frenzy of excitement, along with I suppose, the 19,999 other attendees. Although I don’t think anyone can love them as much as I.
I was not disappointed. Not only did they play many of my favourite old teenage heartache tracks, interspersed with some of the slightly more flimsy recent not quite hits, but their set consisted not just of 4 small blocks but in fact, many many many small blocks. Too many to count. The set started with them at the front of the stage. Chris hemmed in by keyboards wearing the usual stupid hat. Neil wearing some kind of hot looking (as in temperature) leathery jacket. Flanked on two sides by what looked like two screens.
But gloriously, when they got to the “I’m building a wall, a big giant wall, it’s not designed to keep me or them or someone out, but to keep you in” song, the screen like things turned out to be some of these many small boxes that Neil swiped at theatrically and they disintegrated into artistic rubble which the dancers then constructed and reconstructed through subsequent tracks. Lovely stuff.
Ross thinks they must have seen one of my shows...
He said he hadn’t said anything to me but made some quip (that made me feel like a lecherous old fool) about my optimism in thinking it. At which point the girl on the front seat helpfully chimed in with a “he’s my favourite bus driver in the whole of Edinburgh. He’s always got a smile for everybody and he’s the best driver.” Luckily, the bus arrived at the stop at this point so the impromptu fanclub was dispersed.
So, more inattentiveness in my blogging habits.
I had a fabulous completely uncultural weekend in London last weekend. I saw the most enduring love of my life Neil Tennant in concert at O2 on Friday night (hence the iPod playlist). I spent the day in a frenzy of excitement, along with I suppose, the 19,999 other attendees. Although I don’t think anyone can love them as much as I.
I was not disappointed. Not only did they play many of my favourite old teenage heartache tracks, interspersed with some of the slightly more flimsy recent not quite hits, but their set consisted not just of 4 small blocks but in fact, many many many small blocks. Too many to count. The set started with them at the front of the stage. Chris hemmed in by keyboards wearing the usual stupid hat. Neil wearing some kind of hot looking (as in temperature) leathery jacket. Flanked on two sides by what looked like two screens.
But gloriously, when they got to the “I’m building a wall, a big giant wall, it’s not designed to keep me or them or someone out, but to keep you in” song, the screen like things turned out to be some of these many small boxes that Neil swiped at theatrically and they disintegrated into artistic rubble which the dancers then constructed and reconstructed through subsequent tracks. Lovely stuff.
Ross thinks they must have seen one of my shows...
posted by Claire at 5:42 pm
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