I'm getting out of Facebook - I was 'tagged' in a photo, by a 'friend' (actually the mother of Honorary Grandaughter). It's extreme cruelty, because I look terrible - it was taken about 4 years ago, before I went to Weightwatchers, so I look gross. And I had the most terrible haircut. Terrible. I hope it's possible to delete photos, because I'm going to do it right now. Oh, stupid Vanity, to think I could get away with being on Facebook at my age...
Have been watching "Help" on TV this evening. Those lovely Beatles, and I knew every word of every song of course. Not just every word, but every musical phrase, every breath. The Beatles were in my blood back then, and though the film was completely daft, I watched spellbound. Having the chance to see them all as they once were was sad and wonderful, all at once. It took me back to one fine day in London when I was walking back to work, after lunch, along Savile Row. I heard music coming from above and there, on a roof and just out of sight, were the Beatles playing their last, impromptu concert. I crossed the road to get a better look, and was rooted to the spot. It was magic. I was one of those lucky people who stood and listened on that historic day. Pure, bloody wonderful, accident. For once, I was in the right place at the right time.
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