What follows will probably get me a lifetime ban from the 'Blokes all sticking together and not getting embarassingly soppy' movement.
But here goes.
In December last year @carolcoulter reached her big 50.
And of course, in keeping with my role as chairman of the BASTANGAS I didn't buy her anything. BASTANGAS stands for:
'Blokes all sticking together and not getting all soppy' if you have a short memory.
Wracked with guilt, (well I wasn't really but you've got to say that haven't you. And it is the thought that counts.) and prodded by occasional, sweetly worded, (but barbed with menace) reminders from the great woman herself I decided to right my gift-bereft wrong.
But what?
I wanted it to be something significant, beautiful and that would last hopefully, forever at least.
Jewelry? Nah too obvious. And I'd never top the interlinked CC Chanel earrings already treasured by the appropriately initialed @carolcoulter.
A painting? Nada. As a picture-framer a bit too that would be a bit too much like a busman's holiday for the old gal.
And then fate took a hand, in the shape of a serendipitous conversation I had at the legendary Edinburgh Coffee Morning (#EdCM) with the great @petergregson.
Peter, is, if you didn't know already dear reader, one of the most gifted cellists of his generation. Who also integrates technology and social media into his work in innovative, surprising and often quite mesmerising ways. (Don't just take my word for it, take; wikipedias or MIT's or The Hospital Club where he's currently creative in residence.)
Our coffee morn chat sometime in March this year, included a discussion about the launch of his new album 'Terminal' (commissioned by Bowers & Wilkins and Peter Gabriel no less) , and how he might use social media to promote it and the imminent tour.
I was delighted learn, though sworn to secrecy, that Twitter themselves had invited Peter to perform the World premier of Terminal at their SF HQ. Such is the cool & connections of the man.
Then, and from I know not where, such is the way of the Serendipity Dust, we were soon exploring the idea of me commissioning Peter to write a piece to celebrate Carol's big Five O.
But it got better, referring to his diary Peter suggested that he might premier the work as an encore to his upcoming Queen's Hall performance in June.
And the deal was done.
All I had to do then, was get the little lady's pert and perfectly-formed derriere parked in the stalls at the QH on the evening of Friday June 18th.
Which is why I got kicked out of the BASTANGAS, as this was the night of course of England's sure-thing, odds-on World Cup triumph against Algeria. (Yeah, right.)
Oh well, the things we do for love.
Suffice to say.
We took our seats.
Enjoyed a wonderful concert from Peter, (show notes here), as I, with increasing excitement tried to contain myself as we built up to the grand finale, the encore performance premier of @carolcoulter's very own personal music composition; 'Waking up for the first time'.
"Why do you keep squeezing my hand so much?" she said.
Pretty much like the England team that night, I was very much in danger of giving the game away, so, fortified during the interval by a some restorative glugs of the Queen's Hall 7.2% 'Thrusty Cox' cider, (or whatever it's called), I relaxed a bit though the second half of the concert.
And before I knew it, the concert was about to climax, (as was I such weas the excitement), Peter got a wonderful ovation from a delighted audience and as the applause wound down, Peter returned to the stage to announced his encore, and let the audience in on the secret that this was special commission from a husband who wanted to celebrate his wife's belated 50th, and to express his love to her in a personal piece of music that was all hers.
Suddenly Carol realised he was talking about her, made a funny girly, gurgly, almost inaudible gasp, then it was her turn to squeeze my hand tight.
Thousands of miles away, the final whistle went on the England game sometime after 9.15, while much closer to home, the opening chords of 'Waking up for the first time' where played, and heard by Carol for the very first time.
But not I suspect the last.
As the music began, I wished her happy birthday, she got the message, and the Mascara began to flow.
Here's the piece:
Posted via web from Mike's Blog:
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