We Will Rock You-Cheesefest at the King’s Theatre
Sometimes it’s ok to be cheesy. Thursday night was one of those times.
The last thing I felt like doing was declaring aloud that we were the champions after the worst day at work ever. However, having bought show tickets for We Will Rock You several months ago, I was determined the show must go on.
My mood was instantly lifted when, on our way for a pre theatre bite, we stumble upon the starting line of the Monte Carlo rally outside the Blythswood Hotel on Blythswood Square in Glasgow. All pre 1974 classic cars at the start line of the 2 day race across Europe. I would have hung about for a bit of pre race start line shmoozing but the closure of the surrounding roads caused traffic chaos and this led to much lateness and car parking issues so we had no choice but to move onward and upwards.
As mentioned before, work was hell, so this was my justification for pre show school night daiquiris. Two were sufficient to reach the desired effect before we took our front row circle seats. Jolly good seats they were too! I wasn’t sure what to expect and to be honest I didn’t have too high expectations. It took me a wee while to get into it as I was still reeling from the worst day at work ever (it was really really that bad). However, the power of Queen cannot be underestimated and before I realised toes were tapping and I felt the overpowering urge to sway and….heaven forbid…even sing. I never saw that coming just a few hours previously. A wee G&T at the interval topped up my happy levels and we were off again saving the world from Simon Cowell and the Killer Queen’s gaga world of mass produced synth pop. Even Noel Hearsay’s dodgy American accent was forgivable given that he was, and I say this in a hushed voice, actually quite good…at the singing that is. The accent was trully terrible. Fortunately the rest of the cast were dodgy accent free. I hear a few were various reality TV singing/dancing contestants, but at the risk of sounding like a pretentious arse, I didn’t know any of them as I don’t watch those programmes. (Aye, I sounded every bit of the dick I thought I might, oh well).
Anyway, cheese overload accomplished.
Scaramoosh scaramoosh, do I do the vandango? Yes. It appears I do.