Watching TV itself can often be an arduous process because there are so many commercials that it breaks up everything you are watching. So you start channel-hopping during these ad breaks to see if there is anything else on but inevitably you just run into another set of commercials. I became a bit of an expert on the ads on North American TV if truth be told! My favourites are those in which two politicians are running against each other. Often they use each other’s campaign slogans and/or sporting analogies as a stick to beat each other with. They're a far cry from the boring party political broadcasts we get back home. Maybe it's time Alex Salmond opened a can of whoop-ass on that Tory Golden Girls lookalike Annabel Goldie or the Labour Leader guy who is so boring I can't even remember his name! Yes, bring some North American humour into politics, just not too much though, that's how George W Bush got elected I presume, a joke too far! A live English Premiership game actually turned out to be a Godsend, because unlike ice hockey, the play here in uninterrupted by ad breaks, which is great even if it is a shit game like Stoke City vs Blackburn Rovers.
As for the phonecall, it never came before three o'clock so I headed for the subway. Predictably enough, the call did come while I was sitting on the train with my Aunt Margaret letting me know that they were coming up to the flat tomorrow instead. Normally changing plans at such short notice would have annoyed me but that's the beauty of being on holiday, you take things in your stride a little more. Patti was dragging her heels a little too, so I was left at the mercy of the music stores and I succumbed to temptation once more, buying the Best of Led Zeppelin and Katy Perry's new CD (gratuitously pictured below)—a combination that seemed to amuse and bemuse the HMV cashier in equal measure. I was getting a bit worried as time was ticking on and it wasn't until around six o'clock that Patti surfaced, so with only a short time until the show started and given the fact that I'd become pretty well-acquainted with the place, we headed to Johnny Rocket's to grab a burger and a shake.
After wolfing food down, we headed to the Canon Theatre for the show. The place was packed too, not a spare seat in the house. In fact when I went to take up mine, there was already a girl sitting there. Her friend asked if I could sit a few seats in as her friend had a 'bladder problem.' So I said 'Ok sure.' I rued that act of kindness soon after when I realised that I was sitting behind a bearded bobblehead, who wouldn't sit still or shut the fuck up, was molesting his girlfriend constantly and whose phone kept going off. I dunted his seat a few times to register my annoyance, but it was to no avail. The interval actually saved him from a punch in the back of the head, but I had already decided to request to sit in my original seat under the auspices of being too cramped. I was, but I could live with that, a jackass in the box, I simply couldn't.
Anyway, the show itself was spectacular, like a pantomime for adults and it kept you fairly engrossed throughout. Great colour, sets, performances and songs brought Gregory Maguire's excellent re-imagining of the life of the Wicked Witch of the West to life and I thoroughly enjoyed it, even more so the second half. Exorcising the demons of a screwup ex-girlfriend, even two years on felt great too. Closure is good no matter when and where it happens.
Patti had a great time too and afterwards, we went next door to the Hard Rock Cafe for a nightcap. There we met her friend Craig who impressed me with his knowledge of football/soccer and music. I think Patti was glad of having some adult time and I was glad to be in a position to help her do that by suggesting going to the show. It was a great call even if I do say so myself. I got the subway home and hit the sack, sad in the knowledge that tomorrow would be my last day with my family, in this great country, for a while.
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