Monsieur Robinet

At about 7pm I was just starting the last of Leon and Reuben's bedtime stories when Toby informed me it was the night John Hegley was on at the Maltings. Having made a great deal of effort to interest my friends in coming with me, no-one was available/interested and even though I really wanted to go, I'd pretty much resigned myself to not going.
Love is a Husband who tells you to go, get going, go on go, you can bike down there and be there just in time. So I kissed the boys good night and cycled down to the Maltings. Within minutes I was buying a ticket and there was a seat in the front row. I did feel conspicuously alone but I've been to stuff on my own before, mainly before my 30th birthday but still. I wanted to twitter while I waited with no one to talk to but The Maltings is in a twitter blackout zone, it seems. I had signal enough to send a text and receive one back but the internet was not at my disposal. I've done my best to keep it up in my head and get it down here before I forget. I was also conscious I'd left the house without looking in any mirror, I had an extra hair clip in my hair that I'd found on the floor when Reuben tipped a pen jar out this afternoon and probably looked like the woman who drove the school bus in South Park.
It was lots of fun, John Hegley and Keith Moore on Double Bass and Euphonium. It reminded me a bit of the days when I used to go to Gypsy Jazz with my Dad and Leon Russelson, Comedy, songs and poetry. All a quirky, imaginative and cheeky look at life through the eyes of a man forever 7 years old. I hope I get to take Leon when he's about 7.
I bought a book, which was signed by John in red and blue crayon. I was all a flutter and didn't manage to string much of a sentence together but tried to sound appreciative and slightly intelligent, the latter failed. I think I said something stupid about there not being much material from him available then now I've googled him for a picture, he is a very prolific artist with many publishings, even a mug, which I feel the urge to buy, even maybe get one for my dad. I'm not sure why I didn't find this site when I googled the first time and sent links to my friends, especially the ones who appear to come from a cultural wilderness, and the others who clearly have a more interesting life than me. I'm glad I went.
When I got back to my bike, there was frost on my helmet and seat, I gingerly biked back home through town, Fore Hill is a bit of an effort and the cold is right down inside my lungs but hopefully it's not done me any harm. It's a long time since I cycled in the cold or that late at night (10pm, sad eh?) The fresh cold air, the smell of wood smoke and that funny sensation when your chin goes numb. It was very lovely. I'm very glad I went.
Now, time for my tea.