Last week we moved to a nearby village. There is still much chaos, but walls are painted, carpets have been laid, and two unwilling cats have been successfully settled. It was painful being sat in the back of the vehicle with them in their cages, whining mournfully. One of them also vomited and shat in the cage, and we thought her back legs had packed up too. But all is well after all. Just waiting for the phone and broadband to be activated, which they say will happen tomorrow, but I will only believe that when it happens. Until then we are making do with a dongle for our internet, which is about as fast as ye olde dial-up.
On Friday we were in that emporium of good nutrition known as McDonalds in Peterborough. Hannah sat down while I went to order. It was worrying. Youths loitering with no intention of buying, and one crowing: "I'm from East Ham bruv! You wanna take me on yeah?" While we were eating, the Justin Timberlake music got replaced by classical music. It was most wonderful, and I explained to Hannah why they were doing this. Two minutes later she was highly amused at the sight of numerous youths clearing the premises. The simplest tool in the box - classical music. They must have been thinking: "Nah man I can't deal with this bruv, ya git me!"
Saturday saw me present an 80's disco for a charity event. That was a joy. Guilty pleasures were worn with pride that night. To have an audience appreciate Scritti Politti and Haircut 100 was truly wonderful, and to close out the show with the Kane Gang was just beyond measure! The 80's was a decade of variety and colour, and should be worn without shame.
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