Mind you on reflection .......

I remember when we went to see the BHM Band at Nottingham, we went "en
famille" with two fairly young teenage sons - Matthew was 14 and Thomas 12
(well he was almost a teenager!).  We went on our 22nd wedding anniversary,
having just retied the knot at the church (scene of the original crime)
where we had first gotten hitched.  Jennifer didn't know anything about it
and thought we were going out to lunch with my parents - needless to say,
she wept buckets!

Anyway off we trogged to the Royal Centre in Nottingham that night, where JT
had secured Front Row Centre seats (well just off centre, next to the
speakers on Brian's side (no it was halfway between Jamie's full frontal
side and where BHM did most of his solo bits)).  Throughout the support band
(Nine Below Zero) our Matthew sat with legs outstretched (he is almost 72"
long) arms folded and an implacable expression of studied glumness and
complete boredom (wishing he was at home playing on the MegaDrive - was it
really that long ago?).

When the BHM Band came on, his glazed expression didn't alter too much.  JT,
FT and TWT were quite happy stood up rocking away at the front, MFT was also
stood and (I think feigning aloofness with his elbows propping up his chin
on the stage).

At one stage BHM came over and (I think unintentionally, but who knows) made
contact through the toe end of a trainer with TWT's arm "He kicked me" he
exclaimed (Fame at last?).  Then, lordy, oh lordy, across came Shelley.  You
can picture the scene;

A young, impressionable boy (MFT) having this Goddess in spandex with no
middle and chapel hat pegs on her chest stand in front of him (well actually
she was jiggling things in time to the music).  As he awoke
from his soporific state, his eyes seemed to start at the toe end, wander
lustingly up the leggy things, goggle at the middle bit and then alight on
the torso, resplendent in sparkly, skimpy knitwear - it was a bit like one
of the cartoon characters from "Who Killed Roger Rabbit?" - eyes on stalks,
you know what I mean!  Ever since then
he's had a fond memory of the occasion.

Thomas, the younger version of me (slimmer, smaller and [he says] more
perfect) has had a penchant for nymphets with 'boiled potatoes' ever since,
I, of course, have no idea what they are talking about, I was there for the
music!

Her indoors actually TOUCHED BHM's leg (the one clothed in black trousers
with holes in them - Oh God, she's awake and tells me it was the left calf,
and he had white undergarments on [she said that she could see via the
holes, but wasn't trying to look, honest Guv!!!!]) and hasn't washed ever
since!  Imagine that, she gets
married to me for the second time and then touches some bloke's leg.  Maybe
that could be grounds for future reference, who knows.

So, on hindsight (and what hinds), I would tend to agree with your shameful
comments regarding the acquisition of two excellent singists to support the
band (vocally and visually) plus a Chris Thompson or (this one's for Sue)
Mark Shaw on backing vocals.  Still who cares, just get the show on the road
Mr May.

Theirs admiringly

KYA

FT