EDitorial ± 16-Oct-2007
Written All Over Their Face
Big night for Eldest -- her first gig and it's McFly (gotta love that name) at the Regent in town. Been on the calendar for months. Nice of Dad, spelt M-U-G, to shell out the £pony for the ticket.
She'll be there with her bezzy mate from school, and the deal is that (a) BM's parents will pick 'em up while (b) I drop 'em off. Before we head downtown, the girlies see fit to daub their faces with the names of various band members: there's Harry, er, and some others. Prob'ly not Charlie 'cos he was in Busted.
It's buzzing outside the theatre and there's no need to flash your tickets until you're well inside, so into the foyer we go. While I'm showing them where to go and we're straining to look at the merchandise stall, some chappy with a camera introduces himself: I'm with the local paper, he claims, I like what you've done to your faces, and I'm taking pictures for tomorrow's edition -- do you girls want to be in it? Which is how the pair of 'em, "excited McFly fans", landed themselves a prime slot in the Evening Star's double page spread the following night.