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We have a saying in Norway: ‘You can never be a prophet in your own hometown.’ In many cases that saying is true. However, there is a band from the area which has really proven it wrong. The band released their first album in 2001 and the songs were soon on everyone’s lips. Last year a play was set up based on their songs. The theatre sold out and set up more shows, which again sold out. Then the band announced their tour dates, which included five concerts here. All five concerts sold out rapidly.
As a perfect date (it sounded like one in my head at least) I bought tickets to go see the play as part of Husband’s advent calendar (according to Husband this sounded like something I’d like more than him. I, however, think he failed to see the wonderful gift of giving him a chance to learn to love the theatre and live plays – broadening his horizon in a positive manner must truly be a thoughtful and gratifying gift – and I think these aspects undoubtedly overshadow the hint of selfishness that one could argue was present in the buying of this gift)(and let us ignore the fact that I listen to the band more than he does and know more of their songs). Anyway, the tickets I bought were for a day in early December. On the day of the show, I was in London. My perfect date happened without me. The date was in fact not a date at all, but an evening out for Husband and a friend of his. They both enjoyed the show though, but I was a little sad. Not only had I missed out on a great date out with Husband, I had also missed the sold out play that I had looked forward to.
I have just started working as a teacher again. Already the first week I was presented with one of the perks of the trade: the school had bought tickets for all the students to go see the play. Obviously, they needed teachers to go with them.
The play was fantastic! We’re talking goosebumps, tears, laughter, and pain. The only thing missing was the company of my knight in shining armour – but I see more dates in our future!
And btw: Band is Kaizers Orchestra, play is called Sonny.
Anne blabbers 