Friday Nights With The Thunderbirds…

Just to show me why I am like I am, a dream landed upon my sleeping form last night and I made a decision: 

Don’t, don’t, don’t pop around to Tracy Island for a knees-up tonight!

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It is now apparent to me that the Thunderbirds don’t drink.

They don’t do pints in the pub or parties. The Thunderbirds are always awaiting another call, always on duty, always, bloody always stone-cold sober. Not even an aperitif (they are plastic, they don’t need teeth).

So the rebel rousers that we are have decide instead to attend a musical evening with an array of musical youth playing anything from pianos to … pianos.

Proud parents and grandparents will be seated in a church hired for the occasion and will wait with anticipation for the arrival of their offspring – on the stool of life. There to play or not to play. Sometimes mistakes creep in, giving rival adults a secret chance to scoff at others. It’s a cruel sport, but not as cruel as the Colosseum.

Parents are encouraged to bake their own goods and to bring them in for the feeding of the five-thousand during the interval. We are praying, apt in church (indeed apse would have been apt), that our middle daughter gets on in the first half. That will save the savouring of the buns and tarts. It will also mean that I can escape the polite conversations.

I feel sorry for the kids as nerves can destroy their newly-found confidence on the keys.

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But I feel sorry for me.

Perhaps Tracy Island would have been a decent night out after all… 

Published by

mike2all

This is the story of what happened to me when anxiety took a grip. I lost my senses, I lost my job, and I lost me. I then turned to writing to find those things that had gone missing. How can you teach when you believe that education is a business that is failing in its primary remit of helping to create a better society? Indeed, how can you teach when you believe that you have nothing of value to pass on? The book/blog is the story of my recovery from the absolute darkness of the early days. It is an Odyssey through my life over the last twelve months and a retracing of my steps to discover how I found myself there. More than all of that, it is a re-evaluation and a rejoicing of all that which I call life. Happy reading and I hope it helps. There is madness, Everyday Madness, and not all of it comes from within.

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