A Night At The Ballet.

Dateline Paris, France, Jan 97), Bejart Ballet: What a dilemma, (FT) "Ou est la.  C'est les trois musketeers (there being three of them there)". JT: Goodness knows, how I'd have coped if there had been four! FT:  Musketeers? Hang on weren't there four - Arthos, Porthos, Aramis & D'Artangnan.  (That last bit's from FT, as if you couldn't guess - and all the time I thought it was la plume de ma tant!) JT:  Get off my message, you interloper, you.  (On stage) when they were a collective noun - fine - but when they split formation (departing the building via the stage door peculiarly at the front of the building, at the top of wide stone sort of 'courthouse' steps) I found, we just hadn't had the training to cope with diversionary tactics - ie  Brian comes out of the building and, in the well practised way, I thrust forward my programme and posh pen and find I'm in an armlock with a burly security 'gorilla' and we're backing up towards the steps precariously, (this is a bit like a pavanne, but not quite as elegant). I wrench myself free and observe the tableau in front of me (Brian and the generally much shorter French fans) reminds me of 'Jesus and the children', (as if I've time for quiet contemplation now). I proceed down the steps and catch up with Brian on the pavement, beside the waiting coach (bus, that is) where he is happily signing autographs oblivious to the cold.  Success, another one bit the dust! Looking back towards the theatre, John is making his way out the building and proceeding almost anonymously down the front steps.  So I wrench myself away from Brian's company with a hurried 'Thank you' - it was so quick that the speech about how nice his hair looked in the Parisian drizzle, and how good it was for him to meet me, somehow got lost in the wind. Rushing back to the scene of the crime, I get level with an advancing (years?) John, who is smiling, and shaking his head, saying 'Non, Non, Non, je n'ecrir pas" in English (he's not signing anything).  I manage to blurt out something about a Silver Wedding Anniversary Card I've got that RT and BM have both signed - and knock me down - he stops and comes back to me and obliges (having stopped for me, he's besieged.) In the greyness of the evening and amongst a sea of grey people on the steps, shining like a beacon, I see this shock of blond hair, sunglasses and flashing smile.  So, again, not knowing which way to turn, I unceremoniously take flight from John and try to head Roger off (at the pass, so to speak.) He's come down the steps among a tidal wave of people (okay so I said it was a sea), and I catch up with him by the bus (I remember the luxurious feel of lovely lovely 'soft' black velvet - jacket - (FT "Down Woman") - no actually it was velvet).  Gerry (Stickells) is forbidding Roger to sign anything, as he's last and they're late (and perhaps the champers was getting warm).  So a very jovial Roger leaves our 'fond embraces', and disappears onto the waiting bus and takes his seat.  I tap on the window, and he surprises us all by springing up like the proverbial Jack-In-The-Box, smiling and waving annimatedly. All such good fun. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - --------------------------- So, to sum up then: Brian, Roger or John - together - great - as long as they don't split formation. But one at a time is far less confusing. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ---------------------------- Having heard all the arguments can I ask: "Are you having difficulty making up YOUR mind?"  "Well" (I hear you say) "Yes and No". --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ---------------------------- FT Here: It was like so many kids let loose in the sweet shop with their pocket money, do we choose the chocolate caramels, the aniseed balls, or the gob-stopper (you must realise that I am not alluding to the three being each of the aforementioned). JT again: Cummo, they are all real Sweeties. FT:  One day I'll relate the story (tale) of Jen, a red book, a man with a muffler and a pen - its not quite as good as the above, but it will help to pass the winter's evenings away (you can't tell the difference here in the UK). KGC (KYA I suppose) Jennifer (& him)

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