Lowering the Tone

Yesterday was the beginning of Christmas marked by our annual trip to London. We like to have something to eat, look at the pretty lights and see a show.

Somehow, I always seem to embarrass my family, although this isn't hard to do when they're teenagers. Trafalgar Square often seems to be a trigger point, with last year's "big blue cock" incident and the year I noticed a man looking at me and so demanded, "Do you know me?" only to find the rest of the family snickering, "Did you know that was Ian Hislop?" This year we decided to avoid the area.

We went up market. The lights are so much prettier around Piccadilly and Bond Street. Maybe I shouldn't have told the man in Fortnum and Mason that he could get some very nice crackers in Morrisons for £4, rather than the £65 he was considering paying. Sometimes I look at nice things in expensive shops and think that having money might be fun but I wouldn't be able to keep it up. You'd have to wear make up, not have dirt under your fingernails and brush your hair every day!

I could be eccentric enough. I would replace the Silver Shadow Flying Lady with a Christmas tree on my Rolls Royce too.

Everyone was most relieved when we reached the theatre. We were in the cheap seats (not very cheap), so the risk of lowering the tone was reduced. These seats at the Palladium are a challenge for anyone over 5ft with normal length legs. The people sitting next to me were struggling to get their coats off, "Pull my arm!" she'd said to her husband. "Do I need to prepare myself? Is that like pull my finger?" I asked. I'm not sure but I think I could hear one of my children slapping their forehead.

I was very well behaved and didn't say any of the things I was thinking. I'm not a huge fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber's earlier musicals because they were written as school productions, making them seem amateurish even when performed by the most experienced of cast. Also, I get a bit bored by dance. I need words and I am irritated by a big famous star; I hate the way the audience whispers when she arrives on stage and claps half way through her song. However, whatever they paid Nicole Shirtlifter was worth it. The theatre was sold out and it meant that there were many members of the cast making their West End Debut. Although, as the LSH pointed out, she did only know one song, which she sang three times, it was amazing. It's the first time I've ever really truly understood that song bringing tears to my eyes.

This musical can be a little difficult to follow. TS Elliot made up words. It's all set at the Jellicle Cat Ball. "What's a Jellicle cat?" asked the LSH. (There were some diction problems for those of us too far away to lip read).  A friend had recently told me that her son had thought it was the testicle ball. The dancing in this show was amazing and you have to admire people who can sing in tune while doing cartwheels. They made themselves look like real cats and even licked their own arses. It's impossible not to admire their amazing bodies too, with costumes that leave nothing to the imagination.

"Maybe it was meant to be the testicle ball because there seem to be a whole load of neutered cats down there!" I answered.

Whoops! I think I might have lowered the tone again.