For the love of music

I can't recall the exact date of my first gig, but I know that it was at Wembley Arena at some point in 1987. My friend Nicki took us in a TR7 that her stepdad had built and given to her - he was an engineer for British Airways and it was his pet project. She drove us to the arena and parked in the massive car park and we went in to watch the Eurythmics I think. I hadn't been to a live music gig before and it was so exciting for me. The opening solo cello and the immaculate vocals of Annie Lennox were just magical and I was walking on air when we left in the cold night air to walk to the car. We sat in the car park for well over an hour queuing to get out and listened to the radio and sang along while we waited to leave. Neither of us had a mobile phone to call home and tell our parents we would be late and we must have been quite late as the curfew in those days was pretty close to 11pm.

My parents were not relaxed about me going out at all so even being able to go to a gig was a big deal to me. It was only because my friend was going - and driving us - that my mum even agreed. I doubt she even told my dad I had gone - he would have flipped if he'd known ! There was no security check other than to check you didn't have any canned drinks with you - good old Wembley always looking to sell you an overpriced drink and snack. This was in the days before everyone carried bottled water and no one had camera phones so actual cameras would be confiscated at the door to prevent piracy. Ironic when you consider the number of fake t-shirt sellers right outside the doors.

Every holiday at uni I worked as a steward at Wembley. I was on the turnstiles for a Michael Jackson show that never happened, showed people to their seats for Bruce Springsteen, stood on the pitch at the end of the match for the Charity Shield. I ran away from stampeding people when the crowd at a Bollywood spectacular went rogue and stormed the pitch at the stadium. This was far more worrying than the elephant that had earlier taken a tour of the stadium carrying a Bollywood film star on its back.

My regular job was showing people to their seats at Wembley Arena. Cliff Richard fans are far more bolshie than any other audience in my experience. I have no idea why. I fell in love with Prince when I watched him perform on stage at the Arena and I bought a knock off t-shirt after a Simple Minds gig  because - frankly - I wasn't going to pay the price they charged inside the venue. My mum used to pick me up from Wembley because she didn't want me to take the bus on my own late at night. She would park on a side road we had agreed before I left for work and I would always get there in time. We still didn't have mobile phones remember. If anything happened or I was delayed I had no way of letting my family know - unless I went to a phone box and had change to make the call.

On Monday night there were young people going to their first ever gig in a massive venue. Before they went inside the venue they will have had their bags searched for items such as drinks bottles, anything that could be used to record the event (other than mobile phones of course - we all have those now) and sharp objects. The tickets will have had anti-fraud markings on and there will have been professional security firms hired to work at the venue.

As many Ariana Grande fans are so young they will have gone to the show with their parents. They went to see a singer they love and they had a fantastic time. Then a terrible, horrific thing happened. People were killed. Children were killed. Families were separated. Local taxi drivers took children and their families home or to safe places to stay until they could find each other. Local hotels took them in and no one took a penny in return. Mobile phone footage of the terrifying scenes were online almost immediately and the next morning people went to donate blood to help the victims who had survived the bomb blast.

This is the memory that some children and young people will have of their first gig. This generation of kids who go to festivals with their parents. Who listen to music and download online rather than tuning in to the chart show on a Sunday evening while holding the pause button between tracks on a cassette player. These kids who went to watch a young woman who is a feminist and a campaigner for LGBT equality. Who was said to be 'broken' by what happened to her fans on Monday night.

It's not a memory I would wish on anyone.


A fund has been set up to support families who have been affected - you can doante here: https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/westandtogethermanchester

See that gap in the crowd there ? That's me that is.

I am short. I've not grown since the age of 12 - seriously. When my six year old points out how tall he is growing and shows me where he reaches on me (awkwardly he's at boob height now) I say he's going to be as tall as me by the time he is ten years old. I know this and I accept this. There are times when being vertically challenged can be especially trying and the main one is when it comes to gigs.

Being a fan of theatre I am well versed in the head tilt. You know when the person in front is tall, or has big hair or in the case of Rocky Horror is wearing headgear so you have to keep tilting your head to see the stage. I have watched entire shows in two parts. It's not the best. On one memorable occasion I went to watch a film during the day and sat in a seat on the left side in an entirely empty cinema. Two people came in and sat in the seats right in front of me. In a completely empty cinema !! Actually they did me a favour as the movie was terrible, but that's hardly the point here.

I've been a keen gig goer for decades now and I've yet to find a venue that considers the needs of short audience members. Not one. Brixton academy is my personal hell (for so many reasons) and I only go there if absolutely necessary. Hubbie is a normal height person so for him it's not an issue. He is happy to stand where I can see and we have been to most venues at least once so now I know where to aim for so I can a) see the stage and b) not get crushed.

The latter is a genuine issue as on two occasions I'm convinced I've been pretty close to being trampled. The first was at a Metallica gig at the NEC Birmingham (on my 20th birthday) where we arrived early enough to get in front of the barrier (which unbeknownst to me was the mosh pit) before they stopped letting people in there. I twisted bits of toilet paper into makeshift earplugs as advised and suddenly there was a surge of people who had broken through and were making for the stage. I ran to the side and a little while later Neil found me.  Simon had taken an 'every man for himself' stance and was nowhere to be seen - typical ! The second time was at Aston Villa Leisure Centre where I went to see the Pixies with Neil - a pattern is forming here ! We made our way to the front and I could feel the crowd starting to mosh which was ok - to a point. Bear in mind I was the smallest person there and as I had insanely long hair back then I was getting a bit claustraphobic as it was getting pulled and I was being crushed. I put my arms up - the international signal for "small person in need of rescuing down here please security" and got taken out of the crowd. I found a safe spot high up enough to see the stage and stood there until the end of the night. Neil emerged from the sweaty mosh drenched and as he found me I held up the new t-shirt he'd bought at the start of the gig. All was well.

So why does it matter ? Well, here is my usual view at a gig. I've chosen my spot because I can see the stage and Hubbie is also happy there and then the tallest man in the venue just stands right in front of me. What a gent !

I can see the band 

thanks mate

In case you're thinking it's just because it's dark and he just didn't see the small woman standing right there in that spot that he aimed for in the crowd that looked like a gap, it also happens in daylight: 

Ahem *coughs*

Oh there is a band there after all 

I've also been at outdoor events where - unless it's the Milton Keynes Bowl, with it's terribly convenient curvature enabling the most height disadvantaged of us to see the stage - my view is pretty much this:

Can you see who it is yet ? 

So I am hereby sharing the idea I've been considering for many, many years now. If it gets traction I'm going to take it to Dragon's Den - or not. Whatever.

Height ordered venues. I know you've got many questions, but I'll deal with the main ones to start with. If you are under a certain height you get to sit or stand (depending on the gig / venue) in the front portion of the venue. The taller you are the further back your ticket is. That way I don't have big tall man standing right in front of me and he also gets to see the stage perfectly well.

But what if you are short and your partner is not ? I hear you ask. Well, I'm glad you've asked me that actually. You have a choice. If you are here to listen to the music or watch the show you can stand/sit where you can see or you can choose to join your taller partner in their area. Personally so long as I see him in the interval I am fine with not standing next to Hubbie while the band are on. Don't tell him though.

So that's my solution. It's imperfect I'll grant you, but until someone comes up with something better it's the best I've got. Unless I carry around the step my almost 3 year old uses to stand on when he brushes his teeth. He won't need it soon anyway as he's going to be taller than me before long. 

Oh well, at least the next gig I'm going to isn't at Brixton.

I (more than) get by with a little help from my friends

I'm blessed with some amazing friends - I'm more than usually aware of this tonight as I've been struggling this week to keep up with myself. The early starts and the rushing back from work so I'm in time to pick up our boy from school has been taking its toll. I started my new job last week and have already clocked miles travelling to Brighton, Liverpool and Oxford for meetings and conferences and this week Hubbie started his new job too. Our boy has been going to breakfast club and after school creche in order to accommodate our new busy timetable and we're all a bit shattered.

Yes. it's the actual Yellow Submarine !!

This evening as I popped out to get some bits and pieces from the shops I called an old friend - he's not old I've just known him a long time - to discuss the latest adventures in our household. When discussing the work situation he reminded me that this is an amazing opportunity for me to get some great experience and that it will take time for it to feel 'normal' for all of us, but it will happen. Rob and I have been friends for over 20 years and he knows me pretty well and there's no hiding from him when things aren't great. He's right of course. I'm feeling a bit crappy about it all because I'm worried about our boy coping with the new routine. I feel guilty because I'm not at home all the time to do the things I was doing before so the house is a mess and I have a constantly increasing to do list. I'm tired because even though I vowed to go to bed by ten it just doesn't happen.

When I got home from the shops I was rushing - as I seem to be all the time lately - and was very snappy with Hubbie. As if he'd realised why he mentioned that we could make some changes to our working patterns so that it wouldn't all feel so panicky for me. We discussed it further and I think we've come up with a pretty good solution that will enable me to work smarter. He is good like that and will always try to fix things to make it easier for me. Bear in mind that he has a pathological hatred of DIY and yet he made a late night trip to B&Q last night to sort out a curtain rail that had an unfortunate run-in with our 4 year old last weekend.

You see I consider Hubbie a friend too. Not the one I've know longest, but certainly one who is just as amazing as the others. I mean he knows how rotten I can be when it's been a while since I've eaten - or just because it's Monday - and he still chose to marry me. We both have to deal with our boy when he's being difficult and it does get trying, but we don't forget that we're friends underneath it all. I don't mean we're only friends - of course there's more to it than that. This is a PG rated blog though so I won't elaborate on that.

When I was a child my Mum used to criticise how close I was to my friends. She would say that I did far too much for them and that when they didn't reciprocate I would get hurt - she was only half right. You see some friends are like dominos - they lean on you and you in turn lean on others. Then there are the ones who know you so well that you don't even have to tell them the whole story. They just say the thing you need to hear or do something that you didn't know you needed. Like Neil doing a 'Smiley's People' style meeting this week over the road from my office. Or Gareth changing plans so he could join me and Hubbie for a gig at very short notice. Or Carole checking in with me to see how I am getting on in my new job. Or SJ putting the bollard down on her drive for us - no I'm not even going to elaborate on that.

What I've realised over the years is that great friends are the family you choose. The really good ones are priceless and if you're lucky enough to have someone who is both a friend and family then be thankful.

Yes, I'm talking about you Hubbie :)