Mosher

I went out with my nephews last night to see Black Rebel Motorcycle Club do their thing. The real occasion was young Tom's eighteenth birthday - which makes me feel very odd whenever I think about it. Surely it was only five minutes ago when he clung onto my leg, balancing on my foot as I walked through his house...

Anyway, the gig was excellent, both because the band really know what they're doing and because the moshpit was full of eager young bloods who liked nothing more than to throw themselves at each other with large smiles on their faces. The bouncer at the front was none too pleased but this only served to fuel their enthusiasm and it was a genuine delight to witness such exuberance - except when I was showered in beer or barged forcefully into the people behind me. This bloke was particularly crazy.