Sunday, October 07, 2007
Sometime this week is the 11th anniversary of the day I almost ran over Brett Rickaby outside the Golden Gate Theatre after seeing him in the Royal National Theatre's production of CAROUSEL. You would think I would remember the date but I had a lot going on at the time and I cannot say when, exactly, it was. Nor can I find my enormous binder full of CAROUSEL programs and ticket stubs from all over the country, gathered with gusto by myself and Lyn as we trotted to hell and gone to ride that merry-go-round, never quite grabbing the brass ring but actually, we didn't really care, the fun was in the attempt (with the added bonus of irritating the Nelson Band).
I am sure nobody made off with my priceless collection of autographed playbills but I do wonder where the hell I put that binder. I guess if I ever managed to clean the house I might find a lot of items presumed dead.