Welcome to Happytown

Sunglasses when it's dark? Check. Rock God? Check.

Brace yourselves, I’ve got some shocking news. My faith in humanity has been restored. In London.

That’s a lot to process, isn’t it? First off, I can reassure you that I haven’t been kidnapped and a cheerier, equally dashing, doppelganger parachuted in to replace me. It’s fair to point out that this may also be a fleeting version of me, destined to have evaporated like the mist on a sunny morning by the time you read this.

But hey – I’m in a happy place for the time being. All thanks to a trip to Wembley Stadium last Saturday to see Jeff Lynne’s Electric Light Orchestra. I haven’t been there for 25 years... or ever, if you take into account the fact that it’s been replaced since I went to the Freddie Mercury Tribute concert in ’92.

True, the day could have started better. As we approached Arnside station in the car, a train was rattling across the viaduct, accompanied by a dawning realisation that we’d got the departure time wrong. I really didn’t know I could still run that fast. Or pant that loudly in a quiet carriage.

The normal tension of a countryside-dweller visiting London melted away on the tube, when we struck up a conversation with some fellow fans (which presumably broke several by-laws).

If that wasn’t already somewhat over-chummy by the capital’s standards, the thorough security checks to get in were delightfully good-natured and friendly (getting felt-up at my age is a bonus, too), and inside the stadium it got even better. This was by far the most welcoming gig I’ve ever been too. People chatted warmly, many seemingly knew each other, and a guy I’ve never met complimented me on my T-shirt.

Every era of ELO was represented, from 70s satin bomber jackets and vintage tour Ts, to people in sky blue suits with white clouds on. The concert was glorious – I have never seen so many happy people in one place, singing madly along and grinning like it was all their birthdays and Christmases put together.

Afterwards, the inevitable queue along Wembley Way to get to the tube station (normally about as much fun as tipping spaghetti into a Dyson Airblade whilst wearing you best white suit) became a joy too. Someone was playing “YMCA”, and suddenly hundreds of people were singing along and performing the accompanying dance. Even our hotel-bound pit-stop for something to drink was boosted by a chat with a polite and friendly homeless guy (who got Mrs G’s planned breakfast).

On Sunday, tired and a bit croaky, we clambered onto our train home to be greeted by two very American ladies at our allocated seats who welcomed us “to the cool table”. We traded gig stories, and chatted about their trip to Glasgow and “Edingburrow”.

What a weekend. I’m smiling again now, just thinking about it.

Maybe I should put the news on the TV – that should have me back to my miserable self faster than you can say “In the House of Commons today...”

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in The Mail, on the 30th of June 2017. Both the print edition and the version used on the paper's website changed the title to "Don't bring me down from my ELO high". Nice work there, and better than my effort. I did consider using an ELO song title somehow, but shied away from it as I wrote a review of the Manchester gig last year, and wanted this to be more about the whole experience. The online version also used the photo I submitted.

In a major 'small world' moment, it turned out that a friend was going to Wembley just a few days later to see Adele. Cumbria is a long way to travel from for a gig in the capital, so we have to take it in turns, or there's no-one left to look after the sheep.

Coincidentally (and a bit spookily) one of the American ladies on the train was going to see Adele, on the original last night, and then the actual last night, after she added another date. I see from the news this morning that a croaky Adele has cancelled both. Ooh. Bummer.

Hello from the other side! (of the pond.)

(CD A-Z: Pink Floyd's "The Early Singles". Psychedelicalicious!)

Malaysian Grand Prix - Vettel hot, but not bothered

Malaysia. It's always hot, and it always rains. Except the 2nd part is no longer true (unless you count the drizzly bit around lap 14). Saturday's qualifying session had highlighted the fact that Red Bull and McLaren seemed well matched on pace, but also that Ferrari were struggling. Whilst Vettel bagged another pole, followed by Hamilton, Webber and Button, Alonso was only 5th, and Massa 7th, with Nick Heidfeld an excellent 6th on the grid between the two red cars. At this point, I would like to break momentarily for a small rant: How many times do I have to say Heidfeld is good? Why wasn't he given a top drive years ago? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?! ARE YOU BLIND!!!?? Ahem. The Hispanias somehow managed to a) turn up b) remember to bring cars c) get both of them on the track d) actually get both of them within 107%. Pretty remarkable really. Oh, and it didn't rain. Race day looked a more likely candidate for a drop of the wet stuff. The start was exciting, with...

Suffering from natural obsolescence

You know you’re getting old when it dawns on you that you’re outliving technological breakthroughs. You know the sort of thing – something revolutionary, that heralds a seismic shift it the way the modern world operates. Clever, time-saving, breathtaking and life-changing (and featuring a circuit board). It’s the future, baby! Until it isn’t any more. I got to pondering this when we laughed heartily in the office about someone asking if our camcorder used “tape”. Tape? Get with the times, Daddy-o! If it ain’t digital then for-get-it! I then attempted to explain to an impossibly young colleague that video tape in a camcorder was indeed once a “thing”, requiring the carrying of something the size of a briefcase around on your shoulder, containing batteries normally reserved for a bus, and a start-up time from pressing ‘Record’ so lengthy, couples were already getting divorced by the time it was ready to record them saying “I do”. After explaining what tape was, I realised I’d ...

Faking it for real

As Donald “I’m really great, everybody says so” Trump is so fond of pointing out, there is a lot of fake news around nowadays. Honest. Your friends at Facebook think so too, and have recently been publishing their top tips for spotting false news – by placing them as ads in newspapers. Considering they came in for considerable criticism themselves, that’s like shouting “Squirrel!” and pointing at a tree whilst you hastily kick away the prize begonias you just trampled. To help you make sense of this (and because I’m a caring person), I thought I’d run you through their suggestions and help to explain them for you. I know. I’m lovely. 1. Be sceptical of headlines READING THIS ARTICLE WILL IMPROVE YOUR SEX LIFE!!! And explain that catchy headlines, or stuff all in capitals might be a bit iffy. 2. Look closely at the URL You can find out more about this at www.wowyouregullible.com if you want to understand how phony web addresses are a sure sign of dodgyness. 3. Investigate...

grumpyf1

Search This Blog