It's Not Fair

My children, bless 'em, are never slow to point out what they call my advancing years - well to use their words 'auld yin'. So I added to their amusement when I headed to Glasgow last night for the Lily Allen gig (yes, children - gig) Lily was superb as she belted out songs from her latest album 'It's Not Me - It's You' as well as a couple of earlier hits that made her famous. But given the demographics of the audience at the O2 Academy last night - another sign of the political correctness of society these days in that it's no longer the Carling Academy - Laura and Michaela may well snigger at the near certainty I was the only grandfather there.

My feeling out of place started when I arrived to join the queue to get in to the venue. As the line of fans snaked round the corner of the adjacent street there were a handful of people handing out leaflets advertising forthcoming gigs in Glasgow.

For some reason they didn't feel any requirement give one to me. As the queue of fans entered the venue we were met by a line of brusque and burly venue officials. Now I didn't expect to be asked to show proof that I was over 18 years of age - that would be stretching things too far - but I appeared to be the only person who wasn't searched as we made our way through the entrance. I clearly don't look to be a threat to anyone.

The gig was brilliant. Lily Allen is a wonderful talent and I like her attitude to life. One misguided chap had the temerity to heckle her and she duly chewed him up and spat him out - much to the delight of the thronging masses.

My daughter Michaela very kindly offered to drive through to Glasgow and pick me up after the gig had ended. I showed my considerable gratitude by printing out a map of the venue with full postal address details including post code in order that she could utilise her satellite navigation system. Unfortunately she didn't bother with the map or the post code - and ended up sitting in a deserted car park at Glasgow's SECC...Mobile phones can be useful things sometimes so I phoned her to advise I would walk back into the centre of Glasgow and meet her outside Central Station. While waiting for her I was approached by a woman of the night who wondered if I was interested in 'doing some business'. After feeling my age somewhat at the O2 Academy I wasn't entirely ungrateful but I declined her offer...

Eventually Michaela picked me up. At least I think it was Michaela as it may well have been Lewis Hamilton given the fact that forty minutes later we were back in Dalkeith. Darling daughter seemed to think the M8 was, in fact, Brands Hatch...

But it was a good night. I like to think I can still show my daughters that, despite heading towards 50, I'm not totally out of touch with today's music.

I'm off now for a couple of paracetamol. After three hours standing last night, my back is killing me...