The one where the Oldies go to a Rock concert inadvertently...

The Monkees. I loved this group. All these years on, I can tell you their names, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Peter Tork and Mike Nesbitt, without so much as a finger twitching over Google. How sad is that? It wasn't even cool to be a fan of The Monkees, back in the day. Four actors ( I even remember Micky as a boy actor, Corky, in Circus Boy... I'm smoking!) were cast as members of a pop group who mimed to the music because they were not musicians. I believe that their success meant that they had to develop some musical skills given that they had to play in public. They were, I suppose, one of the first manufactured bands.

When my Dearest husband produced tickets for Nashville on tour at the Albert Hall, I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed as I'd no idea that this was even going to be an event, and touched that he'd struggled to get really good tickets for what was already a sell-out performance. Nashville, the TV series is one of my guilty pleasures. Not shared with anyone, as I set up the ironing board and a pile of laundry, intent on binge-watching as many episodes as the size of the pile will allow. Ever since Revenge ended, this has been my go-to. The music is uplifting and sometimes as I iron, I get some good action going with the hips.

I never imagined that Dearest would consider this as an evening's entertainment. And a secret voice, buried, wondered if I would too.
The taped music beforehand was mood-setting for a night of traditional country and western which, if you know the TV series, was totally misleading. My dears, it was more of joyful, sappy rock concert with actors who are patently accomplished musicians being given a wonderful opportunity to have the time of their lives. Amongst the audience, five thousand strong, on their feet and hand-waving, night lights bobbing from mobile phones, Mr and Mrs Norman Normal sat firmly fixed and genteely applauded.

Charles Eston blinded by the light?

I think Dearest was expecting a bit of Dolly Parton, and I was expecting more songs I recognised from the show. It was, nevertheless, an uplifting evening, and for once, I was at one with my tinnitus.

Charles Eston, playing himself