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!)

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

Unstable Stables: Throw away the key

It’s comforting to know that there is one less threat to the people of Cumbria this week, following the conviction of white supremacist, Ethan Stables. The 20 year old from Barrow had planned to attack the town’s New Empire pub in June 2017, in the midst of a gay pride event. Despite social media posts saying he was “going to war” and planning to “slaughter”, online searches about how to make bombs and chemical poisons, and expressing hatred of Muslims, Jews and gay people, he claimed his online comments were merely to impress far-right friends. Fortunately, following Facebook posts about his intentions, the police were tipped off and armed officers intercepted him as he headed towards the pub. His aim was to kill anyone he found, with a machete. In a bizarre slip-up, Stables had erroneously added an innocent woman to his neo-Nazi Facebook group. When he vented his outrage at the Furness LGBT support group’s event, the shocked woman contacted the authorities. He’ll have ple...

Is it foggy? No.

When I get put in charge (which is bound to happen soon), I'm going to introduce a whole raft of new laws, for I shall be a just and fair ruler. I'm quite liking the title of 'Most Marvellous Emperor Of Sensible Regulations And Bountiful Lovingness Not To Mention Exceedingly Handsome', but it might be a bit long. On that basis, I'll settle for the more informal 'He Who Is Smashing' from my loyal subjects. Anyway, I digress. I do that sometimes - had you noticed? Here, then, is the first law that will introduced: grumpyf1 law No.1 - Turn your fog lights off, you complete git. Don't get me wrong; If it genuinely is foggy, fog lights are quite handy. The reason for introduction of this law is because 96% of the time (based on my own in-depth research) it isn't foggy when some utter cockwomble blinds you. This has always been a bit of a problem but in the last couple of years it seems to have escalated out of control, possibly because of the...

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