Oh, the joys of a life of freedom. Today I went to a matinee at the theatre for the first time without a gaggle of weans in attendance - to the Theatre Royal in Glasgow to see the delectable George Irving in "the French Lieutenant's Woman". Now, I have to admit that I booked the tickets because of the aforementioned George Irving - Holby City hasn't been the same since Anton Meyer's departure - but I enjoyed the whole experience much more than I expected. The staging and lighting made a huge contribution to a production which gripped me far more than the film ever did (I haven't read the book) and led us through the complexities of a story which unfolded "live" from the mind of "the writer" (Irving).
I loved the way the writer didn't know how his characters were going to turn out, and how we were shown alternative endings when the heroine refused to submit to a conventionally "happy" ending. And I was fascinated by the way in which an actor like Irving can dominate a stage, even when sitting quietly in the shadows as "his" action unfolds. I can't imagine how the performers rev themselves up to do it all over again at the evening performance. I could be getting a taste for theatre after all.
On our way through the heavy traffic after the performance we were stuck behind a throbbing stretch Humvee full of over-excited and farily obnoxious small boys, hanging out of the windows gesticulating and yelling at all and sundry. This must be the party choice for small boys, rather than the limos the girls go for. I suppose I hope none of them fell out or had their heads chopped off by a passing bus.
On a more edifying note, I am delighted to welcome Bishop Martin of Argyll to the blogging world. I look forward to the development of this blog and to the conversations which will arise through it.
A good day all round, I'd say!