Up early, and head not to bad despite the realisiation that last night I was pretty pissed. Go early to pick up A who has to go to Brum at 11. Good chance to get things done this afternoon. Joke!
A is on good form, but by the end of the lesson her lift has texted to say whe won't be there for another hour. I invite her back for coffee and we have a laugh together with H, who she gets on well with.
I take her down to town for the new rendezvous, but it transpires her mate has only just left London!
Whe I get home someone has moved the sofa forward a foot. And they have moved it onto my laptop. And the screen is cracked, so that now I see five enormous black blobs and a huge spider's web of cracked glass on the screen every time I want to use it. To say I am unamused............
An afternoon of doing not very much follows, when I am struck by a thought. I was in the Goblin a while ago when I saw that there was a Led Zep tribute band on in the town hall this weekend. After such a week of inertia I reckon it could be a good antidote. Ring Malcolm, who would have come if he hadn't been in Helpringham (course he would) and then suggest it to H,who agrees immediately (surprising as she knows fuck all about Zep, but there you go)
We got in at 8 on the dot and the band take the stage immediately. Think they started with "Ramble On" and then onto "Black Dog" The second track shows up the vocalist's limitations, but then Plant is a hard act to follow. Thereafter he does pretty well.
The crowd are a mottley bunch. Mostly around our age, they presumably would have first heard the real thing whilst toking on bongs and plotting the alternative society, unkempt hair swaying round their shoulders, adorned with beads and clad in loons and kaftans.
Now we all stand there with our neat hircuts, mostly grey, save for those who have nothing left to preen. I have to say the women have generally aged worse than the chaps, the menopausal middle age spread being much in evidence. Yesterday's revolutionaries and nonconformists are today's bank managers, estate agents, council workers, and dare I say it, driving instructors. We don't give a stuff for Che Guevara but go to sleep worrying about propertyprices, food prices and the global credit crunch. A few brave souls still find it in them to bop, though the headbanging is left to a younger generation who are huddled close to the speakers. Some of us oldies have dragged their kids along, some looking no more than 8 or 9. There is also a collection of wheelchair users,, severely handicapped. I hope they get a kick out of it. By the time a couple of pints have gone down the town hall could be the Wembley arena, and the band might as well be the real thing. They really make a good fist of it, a trio of talented musicians and not a bad Plantalike after all.
The crowd behind make a lot of racket, which I find both rude and annoying, though they can only be heard in between tracks, and my ears are ringing so loudly I am not entirely sure if it'sthem I can hear or the onset of tinitus.
Much as I love Zep, I realise I only know three of their albums, and tracks such as "Trampled under foot" and "No Quarter" I am hearing forthe first time. Four pints on and Iam bopping with them unashamedly, and H is carried away on the momentum too. For £12 a head a bloody good evening!
Home to bed and I worry whether 50 year old lugholes can stand up to such an onslaught. There are strange noises in my head. I can onlyy imagine what it must be like for poor folk who have to live with this as a permanent condition. I sincerely hope it will be gone tomorrow.
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