Monday, September 28, 2009
"...it's just like Venice, but it's not in Italy"
Horrible journey. Never ending stream of people dragging suitcases wider than the aisle through the train in the vain hope of finding their seat, and me conscious that any one of them could, at any moment, stop by the reserved seat that I've claimed and require me to surrender it to its rightful owner.
Luckily, I'm still just about buzzing from the end of a tricky but ultimately triumphal weekend of activity and social dilemma.
The GregsonOpenMicLancasterSongwritersNightLoveIn threatened to collapse under the weight of it's own popularity as the room filled up with the curious, the enthusiastic and the tiny young people (where did they all come from and weren’t they well behaved? Others could learn). The chairs ran out and the List was packed with performers all of whom wanted to be on at "about half nine, if possible". But with minimal bickering and an amazing amount of goodwill, looping & hollering it only overran by half an hour and no one from behind the bar got cross about it or tutted.
What is so funny 'bout peace love and understanding?
New Zealand Story - Not Every Moment Rules x3