Been here.
I'm knocking on fifty (but look years younger). I've spent the evening sitting in the rain on a park bench singing my heart out to a particularly cheesy rendition of "The Wonder of You" being sung by a Dead Elvis impersonator as the audience debates whether or not Frank Sidebottom's older kid brother should kill Little Frank (a cardboard puppet) so that he can go into a paper mâché sarcophagus and join Big Frank in the afterlife.
It doesn't get a lot better than that.
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8 comments:
What on earth are you smoking/sniffing/eating...?
Kevin,
I love the tone of your stories =)
There are times when I do feel that; that life doesn't get any better than this.
Kane
I don't know how I missed Frank Sidebottom? Odd.
Sx
I missed Frank too - sad because he sounds like fun.
Isn't Frank a Manchester thing?
moreidlethoughts: nothing stronger than tea, I promise!
Hi Kane!Many thanks.
Scarlet and Lulu: oh, you missed a treat, believe me! He was very much tied in with the northern indie scene.
KAZ!!! [unseemly show of emotion] (-:
His appeal was lost on me, but I hope he had a good send-off nonetheless.
Madame DeF: as an act, you either loved or loathed Frank, there was no territory in between.
Chris himself was an entirely decent bloke. Mad as a box of frogs, but entirely decent.
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