Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Friday, July 25, 2008

29 July - Pirates & Prisoners

What’s going on? This getting old thing is worrying, the younger me would have never done such a thing: I passed on an after-show backstage opportunity to rub shoulders with Tim Robbins (never mind the assorted other musicians on the bill). I can’t say , nobody can say, they would get the same buzz out of talking/standing next to Suzanne Vega would they? How times erode any fame. When she was announced on stage, two (young) girls behind us said loudly ‘who’s she?’ And Martha Wainwright gets billed higher than SV, but MW never had a #1 that hung around for.. years… anyway, I digress.

I expect to be stuck to my seat at the opera for a few hours (in fact La Clemenza di Tito last week never felt that long, despite being very static as at the barbican, not staged with costumes and .. er.. décor) but the interval helps. This Rogue Gallery (songs of ships and sailing) started at 7.40 and by the time I got out (David Thomas had his place in Pere Ubu 30 yeas ago but his voice has to be the most irritating style ever) at 10.30, there was still half hour to go. Had to listen to it by the TV screens/all pervading Barbican hall hi fi, as we chatted to 2 other friends/escapees for a while. A lady with a running board/time showed us there were still 6 songs to go. But she didn’t know if Pete Docherty had turned up backstage. We said we didn’t much care for him in any case.

So we left just before 11pm having had to take the massive executive decision to forsake the backstage and yes, our names were down, I saw them, and at the Barbican it's pretty open once you're in their artists' area. Goodbye Tim Robbins. I mean, you’re Hollywood royalty. I’d have just liked to feel short and tiny next to your imposing frame. But quite why you were singing, remains a mystery, you were half decent but acting an Irish accent and quite enjoying the pirate bandana. Am sure your wife thinks it’s your midlife crisis, you know, axe grinding….

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