Saturday, 21 February 2015


I can’t speak. In the Venn Diagram of hoarseness, I’m at the intersection of Patty and Selma Bouvier from The Simpsons and Richard Harrow from Boardwalk Empire. This makes me a yellow, chain-smoking cartoon character, or a facially disfigured assassin, either of which is apt enough, seeing as a nasty cough culminated - with perfect timing - in me losing my voice just in time for the half term holiday. Whilst trying to get the kids to do as they’re told, I’ve had no choice but to resort to threatening mimes, which have had little effect except as amusement generators for my cruel offspring.

But I don’t care. Yesterday, my husband and I were let off the leash by his brother and sister-in-law, who drove 160 miles down from oop north to take over our caring responsibilites for a day and a night.

This allowed us to drive down to Brighton to check in to a posh hotel, go record shopping, eat tapas, drink fruity beverages, and see one of our favourite bands, The Decemberists, play live at the Brighton Dome. 

It was a perfect day and night. Perhaps not for the person next to me at the gig who had to put up with occasional squawks as I couldn’t resist ‘singing’ along, but sod it, I don’t get out much. The Decemberists did The Mariner’s Revenge Song for an encore, an insane nine-minute opus about a young lad growing up to hunt down the cad who caused his mother’s death, eventually murdering him in the belly of a whale. The band tied eachother up in flourescent gaffer tape as they did so (changing the words from “chewed” to “gaffed” alive); the crowd screamed (or rasped in my case) at the correct ‘being swallowed whole by a giant marine mammal’ moments; and I just could not stop smiling.

The evening was rounded off (and trust me, we are pretty round), with me literally whispering sweet nothings in my husband’s ear in our hotel bed. I do mean literally. They could have been the most tender endearments or the filthiest filth, because no sound was audible - I told you, I’ve lost my voice. Between you and me, however, I'll admit that in the Venn Diagram of tender endearments and filthy filth, I was firmly in the circle of filth. 

Video is The Decemberists - Make You Better