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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

We (Moo, Little Sister Edel and I) went to a wonderful Tom McRae gig tonight. It's towards the end of a long European tour that him and his lovely, scruffy, goggle-eyed band have been on, and they're all feeling the pull of it a bit, by appearances - but By George, that was a heck of a gig. As Moo remarked afterwards, if we had been 16 years old, we'd all have been in tears throughout, such is the effect of his downwardly spiraling lyrics. Plus, the man is a sarcastic genius with quite the talent for self deprecating banter. In short, the perfect manic depressive singer songwriter. You really all should buy both his albums and join us in adoration of the McRae, who promised tonight to one day take us all by force (Moo was weak at the knees at the very thought), and become our "Leader Dictator". All hail.

However. The more remarkable and important thing to know of this night is the fact that WE WERE ASKED FOR ID. AGAIN. On the way in to Whelans, of all places, somewhere me and Little Sister Edel and Moo have been frequenting for most of our adult lives. We've been old enough to get in there for almost 10 years now. You have to be 18 or over to enter Whelans, and we were asked for ID. Again. That's twice in two weeks. (It didn't happen at all in London, but then again they're more morally dubious than we are here.)

I swear to you, it's my haircut. I have grown to really quite like my haircut, and even the colour has now settled into a more palatable brown, rather than the striking gothic black monstrosity it started out as. But it's literally taken years off my life. I'm like a younger, more innocent person because of it. Okay, that's not true, I'm still as haggard and world-weary as ever, but apparently my appearance screams UNDER AGE! and ILLEGAL DRINKING! and OUT ON A SCHOOL NIGHT!

If I had a digital camera, I'd be quite tempted to post a picture of my youth giving haircut so that you could all go out - yes, all of you, even the gentlemen callers - and copy it so that you too could be handed back the glory of youth just one more time. But I don't, so I can't and won't.

This entry was posted on 01 December 2004 at 12:52 am. 0 comments

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