What is it about Peter Kay that makes us feel, even in a crowd of over 20,000, he’s only talking to us?
‘He must have been sitting in my living room or hiding in the dresser, to know so many anecdotes about MY life?’ I thought, as I watched him.
Oh, yes, did I not say? I’ve only been and seen him live! Oh YES indeedy! And before I go any further, I must tell you he was blummin’ brilliant!
So how did it happen? How did I find myself perched in the eaves of Manchester Evening News Arena, last night? Well I’ll tell you... and most of it is TRUE!
It began when Peter announced,‘I’m doing a tour, that doesn’t tour’ at Manchester Evening News Arena. Now I’d been a member of his website since he first mentioned garlic bread, so I was sent an email telling me I could buy a ticket three hours before they go live. I didn’t consider Manchester is three hours away from where I live, but what’s six hours in a car compared to seeing the best comedian of all time - LIVE!? So I booked! Got tickets! YAY! And then he announced other venues, other dates...oh God, there were venues in London, just down the road. Still, I thought, I’ve got a ticket – mustn’t complain!
So the day arrived. 29th April 2010. And we set off. Nan sat in back clutching her multi-pack of Curly Wurlys for the break, a smile bigger than a Cheshire Cat that she was going to see her idol. No, not Peter – Rick Astley, she’d loved him since, ‘Never going to give you up,’ played at her aerobics class in 1987. That was before she had all that trouble with her hip.
Anyway, we set off at 2 p.m. ‘Should be there by six, latest,’ said my hubby, munching on a Wagon Wheel. (There not as big as they once were, are they?’)
It was about 6 p.m. his eyes took on that demon look he gets, letting us all know he’ll kill anyone who says. ‘We’re not going to get there on time, are we?’
But we did! Get there, I mean. One oil spill on the road, twelve traffic jams, a torrential downpour that made visibility horrendous and our youngest asking ‘are we there yet’ on repeat, we arrived five and half hours later. FRAZZLED. Nan jumped from the car, bursting for a wee, and we eventually arrived in our seats just in time to hear Rick Astley melodically telling us he hadn't given up on us.
How, after all of that, Peter Kay managed to make hubby cry with laughter, is beyond me. I was in absolute stitches too, of course – as were the whole audience!
So, if you haven’t got a ticket – and there are any still out there – I’d recommend you get one a.s.a.p!
Keep up the good work, our Peter – you are a little ray of sunshine!
