Last night I went to the Embassy theatre in Skegness with my friend who is ten years younger than me. I have only mentioned the age difference now as usually we don’t notice it.
I had rung her to see if she fancied going to see a sixties show after spotting it in our local paper, she is like me in the fact that given a chance we will go to the opening of an envelope if it means a good night out.
It was none stop nostalgia, well for me anyway. As I sang along to the songs of my youth I looked at her and saw the blank look on her face.
Not that she didn’t like it, only that she didn’t know a lot of the songs and I think was amazed at the fact I could remember the words.
How come that I can sing along to some long ago songs but have no idea where I have put everyday things around the house?
I must walk miles each day looking for something I have had in my hands just a few moments ago; I know I am not the only one. In fact it is quite reassuring that the same friend has just as much trouble as me. Mind you she attributes this to the fact she spends a lot of her time in my company.
I think a lot of the songs from that time are tied up with memories, when Union Gap came on and ended up with Young Girl I was transported back to the time I was courting my first husband. I don’t know if that is good or bad, he is the father of my two lovely daughters so I will thank him for that.
It was a great night with a great audience who were determined to sing along and enjoy themselves. But and it is a big but, couldn’t all those guys who have to spend half the night going to the loo sit by the door, or maybe the theatre needs a prostate corner.
When one person after another walks past the stage you start to get a bit distracted, in fact I was amazed that none of the acts commented. Maybe because it is part of old age and a lot of the artists are around the same age and understand.