Missive from the battle-front....

Here I am at the Concorde II, waiting to see Greenish Day (guess who THEY are ought-backing on!) and I'm here babysitting 4 x 12ush year olds.  I guess I should be glad that they are all jumpng like loonies and not shagging in the corner (or trying) like I was at their age.  In the 80's you would DIE if your dad or mum would yet to come to the local church-hall disco, but counter to popular media preconceptions, I really don't believe that our kids  are more exposed to elements likely to cause harm than we were. 
I know they aren't drinking Martini, or smoking 10 Embassy, or setting light to pillar boxes like SOME people I could mention...and I know they are all going to get home (because I'm driving).
I also know that this place is probably 30% parents (subtly hanging back at the bar and bitching about the cost of merchandising) and that despite all the 'covert' grown up presence, they're  are having a hell of a time.

I've got so sign off now, there is a huge pink rabbit on stage getting 200 Goths dancing to YMCA....man, I think someone slipped something in my coke!