I’ve left it until the end to pass comment on the olympics, and contrary to Julie Andrews “Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start” I say No! let’s start at the end with the closing ceremony shizzle.
I made notes throughout, as I clung to the edge of the mattress – ousted by the childerbeast and the prone form of the Bman, as we watched in bed. Predictions were made and in some cases, mercifully, were proven wrong, (Elton/McCartney/Grace Jones hula-ing). I had threatened to switch the box off immediately if there was even a whiff of Cheryl Cole as that would totally NOT be ‘worth it’.
I was right about this shit being available on Ebay by the morning though:- olympic+lightbulb+hat
I’m not so sure that any of the Canadian Team will get much more that a 99p starting bid for any of their denim jackets, which I’d like to think were an ironic statement but…
Suggestions of what we would consider entertaining and ‘typically British’ were bandied about during the course of conversation. It became apparent very early on in this discourse that the IOC did well to steer well away from getting Bman & I involved in any way whatsoever with the opening or closing ceremonies if I’m honest.
My suggestion that The Grumbleweeds should headline, doing that combine harvester song and the one about drinking cider was not to be fulfilled. In fairness, I’d have waited a long time because, having looked it up, these songs were actually performed by The Wurzels!
Now there’s a thought… A Wurzels/Grumbleweeds collaboration! What could go wrong?
Another idea that The Charlatans should perform the One-Eyed Gnome song whilst a troupe of dancing dwarves/children/persons of diminutive stature dressed in pointy hats, beards & eye-patches did a routine, was also woefully absent. Pity… because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t be amused by that?
Instead, once One Direction & that ginge from Halifax (who could at least have dressed up for the night) had played, the childerbeast lost interest, having no idea who anyone was. They shared furtive glances of confusion as the Petshop Boys rode in on a chariot of cycling carrots. The Kaiser Chiefs pretended to be The Who. The Who pretended to be 45 years younger (not really your generation anymore is it Roger in all honesty?)
Jesse J forgot to get dressed. Tiny Spider’s Tinkler sang something with someone else who begins with T (who’s real name is Jacob – thankyou Wikipedia) and who is actually British (despite our disputing otherwise last night).
It all went a bit Whitby Goth Weekend when Annie Lennox sailed in on the back of her and Suggs’ BOGOF offer from the Jubilee. Norman Cook appeared from within a mahoosive shower cap and played his records on a rickety set of decks.
The Spice Girls, looking like none of them had eaten for a month on purpose, rode around the stadium on top of Hackney cabs and didn’t try and ram one another or anything. They belted out ‘Wannabe’ and ‘Spice up your life’ and even though I’ll happily admit to owning 2 Spice Girl albums, I won’t deny that secretly I was hoping one of them might fall off & snap like a twig. (Posh, Posh, Posh, Posh!)
God help us, even Badger BJ & the man like Cam were even seen to be boogying on down to the Old Spices:-
Timothy Spall appeared from atop Big Ben – again, much funnier if he had been in character as Barry from Auf Wiedersehn Pet rather then Winston Churchill. Russell Brand (FFS?!) told us all he was the eggman and the walrus in some kind of tight-trousered, mad, acid-fuelled Benny Hill number.
George Michael stayed awake long enough to crack out 2 numbers and is now in bother for showing off & doing some new material . His mobile seeming to be in hand at one point, having flown out of his jacket pocket, (possibly Elton or Andrew Ridgely on the blower demanding to know why they hadn’t been asked to join in… or maybe it was just his dealer?)
I know I sound like I’m slating it all, but I actually rather enjoyed it, despite the pointlessness of some of it – (Kate Moss et al doing their catwalk thing pretty much being the antithesis of achieving anything by hard work and struggle).
Oldies dead and alive (difficult to tell on occasion) were wheeled out for the party of British music through the years.
Quote of the night from one of my childrebeast came just before Eric Idle appeared: “Oh God! Here we go again! Russell Grant getting fired out of a cannon!”
Lesser bands performed the hits of their predecessors and just when you thought it surely must end soon… it didn’t!
Big up to (Oooooh) Gary Barlow though, in the light of personal tragedy of late, for not blobbing out of the Take That number. I think London put on a most festive, if slightly bewildering at times, spectacle, which could have been so much more of a damp squib if we hadn’t come 3rd in the medal table.
Team GB did good in the end. This is the most sport I have ever watched and only did so once we started to win stuff (like you do).
Let’s hope it has inspired the youth of today to stop acting like the dicks, doleites and assholes of tomorrow.
Right, must go. I have an email to draft to the Rio 2016 Entertainments Committee – I have a stack of ideas that I think they should hear me out on…
BTW I bet you’re glad I was away at Magic Loungeabout and didn’t get to see the opening ceremony 😉