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Saturday 14 June 2014

Hit Me with Your Best Shot




Today I am the WAG as L attempts the Grimsthorpe Castle Sportive whilst I hold her coat and the collies. I did this one last year so it’s her turn really and I also wish to rest my injuries ahead of the mere 100 miles required by next week’s Great Nottinghamshire Bike Ride.

I’m not the only male WAG (or HAB, which I assume is the correct term), one lass is telling her other half that she’ll be a long time, a very very long time. Where have I heard that before? They’re all the same these girls.

She adds that she’s going to be that long that she’d go to the pub if she was he. I bet she wouldn’t actually but there you go mate she’s giving you carte blanche.

L is actually on the 40k route, a mere blast, and before long she’s texting to say she’s almost done. So the dogs I head to the finish to cheer her in.

We celebrate later in town with a couple of Tucks in the Falcon before me meet Daughter off the coach because bizarrely there is no late train back to Sheffield. She is town because of Stacee Jaxx. Yep we’re off to see the Arsenal, its Rock of Ages tonight.


Rock of Ages is, of course, several dozen US rock anthems from the 1980s strung together end to end in search of a plot. There are the songs you know from the likes of Journey, Whitesnake, Extreme, Bon Jovi, Pat Benatar, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts etc along with the ones you probably don't remember or have tried really hard to forget from the likes of Night Ranger, Styx, Warrant, Quarterflash and Asia. Back in the 80’s we’d been largely successfully in keeping these acts a fair sized ocean away from our shores but now here they all, Trojan horsing their way in thirty years on. 

The songs themselves flow in quick succession from a real live band up on stage and are generally performed well from a cast who are clearly well up for it. The music that is but then again... If the music is from a time we thought we’d forgot then so too are some of the sexual morals. It’s a long time since I've seen so many barely clothed breasts and bottoms up on a theatre stage and that’s just the men. The way some of the men are manhandling their near naked female co-stars makes me fear for the court cases in thirty years’ time when the moral high ground has shifted even further than it has now.

The tale itself, such that is, is about sweet Sherrie, a girl dreaming of movie stardom, who meets Drew, a boy dreaming of rock music stardom. They end up sweeping floors/serving drinks together at the downtrodden Bourbon Bar, what we’d call a venue on the ‘toilet circuit’. He has, naturally, been waiting for a girl like her and she ditto. Cue Foreigner duet. If they get really serious they’ll be branching out into REO Speedwagon next. OMG.

Then Stacee Jaxx turns up with his curiously named band Arsenal to play a farewell gig at the Bourdon and Sherrie’s head is turned. Consequently she spends the rest of the first act either wrapped around Jaxx or around a pole in her new job at the local strip joint.

There’s also a side story of a German geezer who wants to concrete over the whole strip (that’s American for street) but that isn’t going to happen because they built this city on rock and roll you know.

It’s nothing but a good time. A pleasant and enjoyable evening, naked flesh apart naturally and despite the shows unhealthy reliance on slightly obscure Twisted Sister songs. Afterwards I head home for the England v Italy game while L accompanies Daughter to her bus.

The match produces England’s best performance in years but still they lose, although they are very unlucky to do so.

(Saturday 14th June)

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