Sunday, March 25, 2007

I was glued to the tele on Wednesday watching the pre-budget prognostications, the speech, the analysis and ultimately when the English had to go back to normal life we got the Scottish perspective on it all.

It was great theatre. Gordon was very good and that 2p off income tax was a brilliant coup de théâtre, albeit it didn't take long to spot the flaw, even for failed mathematicians like me. Cameron did brilliantly in his reply and Ming confirmed me in my view that he was far too doddery to be appointed in the first place.

Theatre of a more traditional kind at the Traverse that evening. The Scotsman called it "a filthy and extremely funny satire" and they were right. Bad Jazz is about people putting on a play and given that we were a group of amdram luvvies we couldn't have failed to enjoy it.

Thursday saw Nicola Sturgeon and Jack McConnell having a good old barney. I'd have said Jack won on points but maybe that's just because I'm a little bit shy of the SNP however much I like many of their leaders. Annabel Goldie was just as stodgy at Holyrood as Ming Campbell was at Westminster. Let's hope we never see a Tory/Lib Dem coalition.

Mozart followed by Wag The Dog and a bottle of wine may not be everyone's cup of tea for a Thursday night but it suited Robin and me. In fact I could probably have done without the Mozart, which was a little on the bland side. Maybe that was because contrary to the original planning, Charles Mackerras wasn't goading the SCO owing to his having a gammy arm or something.

For some Climates would make for a dreary Saturday night. Indeed although Claire chose the movie she and Ross were underwhelmed, finding its languor soporific rather than soul searing but I put that down to their having too optimistic a view of life.

Optimism dashed today when crowds failed to turn up to Claire's audition for the Grads Fringe entry. Exactly the same nice round zero turned up as for my attempt to put on a one-act last winter. But at least she can take some comfort in her 37 words of fame in Thursday's Scotsman.

Aren't 15 normally enough?

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