(Watching it on TV…)
In years only, my gorgeous wife is far younger than me – and believe it or not we agree on most things. There are exceptions (whether or not to have a dog, why do I always wear black T-shirts, my wine intake) but one that always crops up at about this time of year is ‘I’d like to do Glastonbury just one more time…’
Well I’ve never been a fan of standing knee-deep in mud, listening to the rambling tuneless drug-crazed vocal refrains of the bloke that will be standing next to me until the headline act comes on in twelve hours time, feeling dirty, hungry and in dire need of a comfort break (to use a euphemism), with only a revoltingly uncomfortable night to look forward to. This after sitting in the sort of traffic jams that will one day bring the whole of our fair country to a standstill.
I’m not keen, but maybe the more perceptive among you may have spotted that.
So I sidestep it and, like many other things in my life, hope the whole subject will go away, before that horrifying line comes along ‘you’re just getting past it.’
Not true. I have never been a fan of paying good cartoon drawing money on staying somewhere that is far less comfortable than my own lovely home.
But I love watching Glastonbury from the comfort of my squidgy sofa, with a glass of something and said gorgeous wife for company. This year was no disappointment. ELO delivered, and managed to get through their whole set without introducing us to ‘a new song from our latest album.’ Just all the good stuff I raved about in the seventies (or was it eighties?) Coldplay were OK if you like that sort of thing, and then there was Adele (but not necessarily in that order.)
Adele, you may be surprised to hear this old timer say, is absolutely wonderful. I totally changed my mind about her when I saw Graham Norton’s special about her. She has a rare beauty- a beautiful symmetrical face, expressive hand movements, and an unusual talent for penning clever intelligent lyrics (eat your heart out Gary Barlow).
Cathy and I had a lovely couple of days in our pad in Spain at the beginning of last December and, since we couldn’t understand how the radio worked, and didn’t understand the content once we’d mastered it, we bought Adele’s new album 25 and it became the soundtrack to our adventure.
Anyway, back to Glastonbury and Adele’s brilliant set. She gave us all the right stuff, including Skyfall and the most beautiful rendition of Someone like You that made me cry.
But please tell me why, because I don’t understand, why does she have to use the f word and the s word constantly? She’s worth more than that – or am I just getting past it?
My granddaughter Daisy was there for four fun filled, mud filled, cider filled days, and said Adele’s set was the highlight of an unreal (apparently) time. Daisy and her mum called round to collect the keys for the aforementioned Spanish apartment, for a few days of sun and sangria, and she told me the swearing didn’t matter, and she loved it. To me it spoils the grace that this gigantically successful singer puts out.
But what do I know? I’m probably just getting past it…