On Thursday I paid good money (twenty-five euros, no less) to watch an elderly man roam about a stage wearing nothing but a pair of 1970s trainers and a nappy. That man was one of The Presidents. In fact, I thought he was George Clinton until another fully grown man ambled on stage in jeans and a striped polo shirt with coloured strips of paper decorating his hair. He didn't need to do an awful lot for the crowd to go berserk. And berserk we did go, verily. Bananas, barking, cock-a-hoop.
It was a spectacular concert.
In a quiet moment I mused on which outfits the chap in the nappy had dismissed earlier that evening. Jeans and t-shirt? Nah. Gold lame catsuit? I'm too old for that kind of caper. Fuck it, it's a warm night and I'm approaching incontinence, I'll wear the nappy.
I also wondered at the coincidence that way back in the 1970s this crazy loon call himself George Clinton and started a band called The Presidents and the past three US presidents have been George, Clinton and another George. Weird, no?