If David Farrar can get away with reviewing boring plays then for my election year comeback to blogging I can warm up by reviewing the best show in the world. -¬†Cactus¬†Kate¬†
There was an horrific moment when in Sunday nights epic Macau Rolling Stones gig we saw what the band would have been like if Mick Jagger was hit by a bad eight ball and Keith Richards became front man. It was the stuff of nightmares with the only suitable remedy a quick trip to the concession stand.
I first heard the Stones music when the third man with a twenty (mumble) year age gap I semi co-habited with made me listen to them every second I was with him. In the morning most “older” men read the paper in a polite ritualistic request for silent time originating ¬†from too much time alone with the first wife. He would regurgitate Stones trivia. As a result of environmental necessity I absorbed quite a bit but never questioned his claim to have seen the Stones in Auckland in 1966. ¬†The maths didn’t add up.
When relationships are over less fortunate and far needier women often get a too large home, European car or beachfront bach. ¬†Some of them even get custody of high maintenance things like children. I got something way cooler – not only an almost complete education but all of his Rolling Stones CDs. With the advent of iTunes I was eventually able to respectfully courier them back to their home.
During this past decade of OE I’ve never been in the right place to watch a Stones concert. As luck would have it this time I was. ¬†It did mean going to the Mainland sewer of sin and trekking through the smoke filled Venetian casino floor in a quest to seek my more than adequate accommodation. It was so adequate that but for the concert downstairs I would never have left. ¬†As it was true to Macau form I never left the hotel complex I stayed at.¬† Read more »