Madness of King George to Snow Patrol

Had a bit of a run in going out of late. Started on Monday with seeing the revival of the Madness of King George. I missed the play's first run back in the 1990s and indeed the film with the late Nigel Hawthorn. I have to say I expected to like the play rather more than I did. But what I really did appreciate was David Haig in the title role. A real tour de force. Trying to convincingly play someone going mad can't be easy, but he was terrific. Worth the (not inconsiderable) entrance fee on his own. I suppose the other thing I quite liked about it was that there are no really likeable characters in the whole play. No heroes.

Tuesday night a mate and I braved the frozen wastes of the City for a Thai meal. God it was cold (the night, not the meal). Wednesday was my night in. Thursday was out for dinner with another mate, this time venturing south of the river. We ended up down a wonderfully Dickensian little alleyway near Borough Market, even more Dickensian on leaving as it had started snowing again. All it needed to make the scene complete was a street urchin on crutches heading towards us through the snow flurries.

Friday night I had another friend coming down from Edinburgh to stay. Unfortunately we hadn't reckoned with the transport in cold weather. So his flight from Edinburgh took somewhat less time the the train from Stansted airport to Tottenham Hale, with the result that our late supper became a very, very late one. Luckily my local Chinese didn't mind us turning up at nearly 11pm looking hungry. A few beers took us happily to the small hours of the morning.

Our original sporting plans for Saturday afternoon came a cropper with Brentford match being called off due to a frozen pitch. Plan B was a switch of codes to watch Harlequins v London Irish, but inertia rather put paid to that. So it was a TV diet of Premiership football (Man Utd v Liverpool, Premiership rugby (Gloucester v Northampton) and finally international rugby (Italy v England) all from the comfort of the sofa, washed down by a few beers. Much warmer: indeed a warmth emphasised by seeing how cold it obviously was in Rome. The top image is seeing the steam rising from the scrum.

We both rather reluctantly headed out into the chill winds to our respective evening destinations. Mine was the O2 to see Snow Patrol. Now the O2 has clearly become the London big venue, inheriting the mantle from Earls Court and Wembley Arena. But it is a pain to get out to. Once you are there, well the dome is quite impressive at night. And the interior is fine, especially if you have standing tickets and get there early enough to get to the front. As I did.

First on the bill was a young Irish band called Plastic Roses (I think). Ok but could have been technically more proficient.

Then came Everything Everything. An interesting indie act. They do have a recognisable individual style, both in terms of their songs and their tubby lead singer's impressively high-pitched voice. Different, but not especially appealing to me. Spent a bit of time at my side of the stage admiring the keyboard player/guitarist's improbable fringe. If your fringe is long enough to come under your nose, and you spend half the gig trying to tuck it round your right ear in a sort of Bobby Charlton comb over, then its probably time for a trip to the barbers.

And then the main course, Snow Patrol. Now unfortunately I feel the need to defend Snow Patrol. I have friends who would consider my espousal of this act as rather a weakness in my otherwise impeccable taste. But I think they are not the bland, middle of the road band which many think they are. Firstly, when live, they really can ROCK. Secondly while the music certainly appeals to a wide age range (from kids including lead singer Gary Lightbody's 4 year old niece to some folk with even more grey hair than me) that's not always a sign of blandness. Even their ballads, which some may find a little schmaltzy, I feel have a nice repressed power to them (which does not make them power ballads - yuk).

And a word for the light show, which was very impressive. You can justify laying out a few bucks on some illuminations if you have sold out a weekend at the O2.

A word too for Gary Lightbody. He just exudes Irish charm. Of course I am not naive. Maybe he goes home beats his wife and poisons song-birds for fun. But on stage he is so convincingly nice and genial, that even if its an act, one has to admire his ability. If you can fake sincerity and bonhomie like that you deserve your adulation. Of which he got lots from the 16,500 audience.

Very satisfying gig,

But then back out into the cold and the slow shuffle top to the Tube. The O2 makes great play of all the alternative transport links available. Unfortunately the truth is that about 500 people use those alternatives. The other 16,000 of us can be found waddling to the Jubilee line like a vast crowd of Emperor penguins. And it was only slightly milder than the Antarctic.

Sunday night was dinner with my trainee. Normally I invite my trainees to my place, but she offered the services of her partner as a cook. Having made it through the back streets around King's Cross, I found his cullinary skills were indeed admirable, Have to confess when I make a curry I settle for a spoonful of curry powder. This was  a spice selection ground from scratch out of a collection of spice jars to make an apothecary envious. A very nice evening.

And back to Monday and this toime me cooking for another couple of our trainees, one of whom is Polish. So a chance to show off my pierogi making skills. Another very nice evening with another utterly charming young couple. If you haven't guessed, I like socialising over dinner. Doing it again tomorrow night with a visit from an old friend. Must watch the waist line though!