- Flora sends in tonight's story:
Farther Simon, kind collective, I don't think there's been a band confession, as in BAND, for a while, so I thought it was time to address this with my tale of a masquerading, moshing misdemeanor.
- How about that?
- Straight away. Obviously forgiven, yeah.
- Top of literation.
Perhaps there are those who consider my friends and I too old to be found down the front of the main stage at a festival, but hey, we don't. When our favorite band, Kassidy, with a K, were playing at a certain festival a coupel of years ago, it was our intention to be there, at the barrier, and to be dressed in our red Kassidy T-shirts, screaming like the __.
- Who remembers Kassidy?
- No. I thought we made them up.
- No, no, no. We haven't changed the name.
- All right, OK.
- This is Kassidy:
(music)
- It's them.
- More country than rock, I would have thought.
- Anyway.
When they were playing at a certain festival a couple of years ago, it was our intention to be there at the barrier and be dressed in our red Kassidy T-shirts and screaming like the __.
Having arrived early, we secured our place at the front, and amid the hubbub of front row rough tumbling banter, we made it clear that we were staying there and not budging from our spot. Elbows and knees began to be deployed, not to mention the bit of shobbing, but we remained adhered to the barrier. Frustration __ed from the youngsters as they realized that the prime spot had been taken by some old folk that apparently hadn't turned up there by accident as they first supposed.
A few girls further along the barrier seemed particularly cross at our presence, and kept looking in our direction and scouling at us, until one of them hollared in our general direction,"Excuse me!" We all looked around. "Yes?" replied one of my friends. It's Mildred. "Are you their mothers or what?" she shouted in really sarcastic tones, and the girls all around her sniggered. It only took a second for us to process this. So, we can't just be here because we are fans? There has to be another reason? "Dumb chick" we thought. But then without consulting each other, we all chorused "Yes, we are!".
Although it was she who suggested the idea in the first place, she was extremely suspicious. But around us there was a flurry of interest and a little less shobbing. "Huh, all right then. Whose mother are you then?" she addressed Mildred. "I'm Hamish's mom" Woo, a ripple of excitement grew as her gaze swept across each of us. There was no going back now. Agatha said, "I'm Lewiss's mom." Martel said, "I'm Chris's mom."
- Obviously you all know
I'm Barry's mom. / "Really? Honest?" said the girl and we all nodded. "Came up from Glasgow this morning" I said. A few people nodded knowledgeably /
A few people nodded knowledgeably. Further questions followed, and our now / ther questions followed and our knowledge of the band became extremely useful as others joined in the quizzing. We knew we had passed the test / original girl, the one who hollared at us, / soften and she said, "Oh, you must be so proud." We nodded and agreed that indeed we were proud / mothers of Kassidy were here.
Everyone had heard about it. And those late comers that squeezed through the / informed that these were the Kassidy mothers, and they had to give them room. / much excitement at our presense / we were __ly congratulated for producing such hanky talented musicians. The pushing stopped, and our spot was secured, and indeed guarded by our immediate neighbours, and someone even shouted "Respect to the Kassidy moms!" Clenched fists all around. Soft cushons were found in case we needed a rest / supply of light snacks started to arrive / nachos, bags of chips, and cartons of noodles all came our way. Well, we could get used to this" we thought.
Well, as always the band gave a storming performance and we had a rolicking good time within / invisible but tangible bubble of respect. The only time we nearly blew up was when Hamish removed his shirt and his "momther" h__ed / before nudges from Martha and Agatha reminded her that this may be / reaction appropriate from his mother. Anyway no one noticed.
As the crowd dispersed, people hang back to tell us how wonderful they were. We beamed with pleasure and pride, promised to pass on their good wishes to Chris, Barry, Lewiss and Hamish. /
So, father Simon, we ask forgiveness / / not from the fan / pride / Chris Barry / dialogue / led to our deception, nor do we / lovely Kassidy / on a trajectory to stardom and will have to get used to wierd stuff happening, but I do ask forgiveness from real Kassidy moms who I'm sure lovely ladies and don't deserve to parodied by four enthusiastic, middle-aged festival-goers ...
- ... who like this:
(music)
- That's Kassidy, in case you've forgotten. So it's a bunch of, let's say, middle aged ladies who just happened to be in the wrong place, and ended up pretending to be Kassidy mothers. What do you think, Sister Rebecca?
Kassidy mothers. It's
what do you think, Sister Rebecca?
- greate name, isn't it?
Sounds right.
young girl who initially accused them of being Kassidy's mothers was so rude. I mean,
That's outrageous
stupid really. I mean / were Kassidy mothers ... probably be watching from the side of the stage or something, don't you think? And let's say, you know, ... enjoyed being, you know, in there, amongst / Maybe they do. / I think it was greate revenge. And I'm sure the real Kassidy mothers aren't bothered at all. ... sound ... nice people / not bothered by being / mascarading as the real Kassidy mothers / completely forgiven
Well, as a mother / son in a band / seen many many times. You never watch from the side. You always go ... front because your aim in life is to embarass your child as much as possible. That's what you really want ... They embarassed you all their lives. All with this / with a cigarette lighter / any __ you can grab / my son stopped singing once / because ... ... I was doing / more embarassed / Anyway, I think it's brilliant, Kassidy mothers, I think ... great thing, doesn't matter that you weren't real mothers but you had a greate night. So you are totally forgiven.
let's see what / Brother Mathew
ashamed by my ignorance / come across before. But, uh, I think the best part about the story is the mother cheering when her supposed son is ripping his top off. That's brilliant. Well done indeed. ... keep ... emotions in check as well. So / definitely forgive.
great story.
I'm sure
band-based confessions, being slightly too old to go to a concert / pretending
We've all been there.
I think so.
Source: BBC Simon Mayo's Confessions 2013-02-22 23:03 http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/confess confess_20130222-1256a.mp3