You Shoot Me All Night Long

Well yesterday was my birthday (thirty-twelveteen). I rested up in the day to go to Belle & Sebastian in the evening. I share a birthday with Stevie from the band so Stuart made an announcement and sang Happy Birthday to us both. I wormed my way down the front and was waving up but he didn't see me. Doh! Missed my chance to play tambourine or just stand on stage looking chuffed yet semi-mortified.

But it meant I was in the front row when they broke into an AC/DC cover. When Stuart and I met (in 1991) we were surprised to find each other to be onetime AC/DC fans. Heavy Metal was a big craze on Islay (small island where I grew up). Even with my Lady Diana hairstyle and knickerbockers, I would join in the head banging at school dances. Eh? (Bewildered and lost for words now). Anyway, the band gave it Welly last night and it took me back to being 14 again, which is no bad thing, every now and then. No lasting brain damage...well , none that's visible on a MRI scan anyway.

At the after-show party there were two inebriated girls who kept shouting random questions at Stuart, like 'Can we sleep at your house?' His girlfriend Marisa told them that regretfully there was no room. They asked her 'Don't you wish the world was always like his lyrics?' Marisa is American so she didn't understand their drunken slurs. At one point they tried to tell Stuart that they saw Isobel (ex B&S cellist) trapped inside a suitcase at the Bowlie weekender, so I'm not sure a full translation was necessary.

-C