Fantasy Bob met the sad but inevitable announcement that the Edinburgh International Festival has been cancelled with some disappointment.
FB does not share the self-parodying responses in the Twittersphere of his fellow citizens celebrating that they have their City back. While he has no feelings for the Fringe, he loves the Festival – yes the City is stuffed and too expensive and impossible to get your way around. But for him that is a price worth paying for the excitement and stimulus of seeing and hearing the cream of international artists doing their stuff. The only downside he will acknowledge is the huge drain on his finances his engagement with the Box Office causes.
He was sitting forlornly reminding himself of great performances he has attended. He tearfully clutched the crumpled programmes of years gone by – Brendel, Runnicles, Rattle, Jansons - the list is endless. How will he manage? What will he do during August? Things looked bleak.
As so often, Mrs FB came to the rescue. ‘I don’t know what you’re moping about. Come August, you’ll have lots of time to play cricket….’
A wan smile crossed his agonised face. Maybe he could survive. But Mrs FB hadn’t finished her sentence. She put the killer punch.
‘……..that is to say, if there is any cricket at all.’
FB crumpled, but rallied for hope must spring eternal even in the most difficult of difficult times. He therefore looks forward to a sun-baked August and the healing sound of leather on willow.
No comments:
Post a Comment