The weekend that was

Friday was damp. Friday was wet. Friday was a pretty fucking good day mainly because a band called Radiohead was playing at Glasgow Green and, whilst it there was a light drizzle for most of the evening I really didn’t care. I was just happy to be there and listen to them blast their way through most of my favourites; 2+2=5, There There, Everything In Its Right Place, Paranoid Android, Just(!), Fake Plastic Trees, Jigsaw Falling Into Place, and more.

As usual there were several knobs who did their best to spoil it but it didn’t work. Why do these people go to gigs? Regardless a good time was had by all, even if by the end of the second encore we were all kind of huddled together and beginning to feel a little sorry for ourselves.

Still, that was only part one of the evening, part two was a joint leaving night for my boss and our receptionist, both of which will be missed. Having joined the throngs of people leaving Glasgow Green, we all managed to cram onto the Underground for a quick spin round to The Loft in the west end of Glasgow. The first beer was a good one, and was soon followed by another and a couple of G&Ts. Then it was onto Boho for a wee boogie and then my lovely wife picked me up at 2.30 in the morning…

… which was mainly because on Saturday we were back out to spend the day socialising with friends and family in a late birthday celebration for Louise. We kicked off at 2pm, cocktails were involved and it was only the addition of a rather nice steak that stopped me being completely dead on Sunday. As it was we got home around 3am, quite glad we had no plans for the next day.

I won’t mention that my mother phoned and woke us up… it was 11am after all.

Sunday was spent dozing and munching, sofa-bound for the day, watching crap movies (hello Enemy Within and Jumper) and enjoying Spain’s win over Germany.

And this morning? This morning I ache, with all that standing around on Friday finally kicking in. I feel like I’ve been set on a rack and stretched by some infernal torture device or something, twisted and contorted in ways for which my body was not built. All that from standing about in the rain.. time marches on, eh…

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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2 comments

Ian's mum says:

The same people or their older relatives go to Neil Diamond concerts.

Ian’s dad stood in the rain for a while on saturday on a stomach churning sail to Lamlash with no Radiohead just wimbledon on 5 live. Dry on the way back yesterday but worse motion and also Troon seemed to have moved further away overnight. Good job there were no cocktails involved for us on saturday evening!
Jumpers is a strange film to watch with a hangover! I got quite sick watching it, but I have to say it was on my mind on saturday and I would have jumped to Lamlash about 2 miles out from Troon if I had had the power and about 2 yards from Arran on Sunday. Why do I do it?

I went to Radiohead too, in Victoria Park. Who *are* these people who pay £50 to talk over the music on their mobiles?

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