Kevin G's father Brian passed away last night peacefully at home listening to jazz.
I wrote before (see Icons passim) about the mad story he told me about seeing Orson Welles' bonkers stage version of Moby Dick in the fifties, and that is how I will remember him. I thought, until he proved otherwise, that he was, in a good way, absolutely barking.
March 31st 2018 was the day I spent the most time with him. We went to see Paapa in his RSC Hamlet at the Hackney Empire; a Sat Mat. Brian and Mrs Brian not being in the first flush of youth we got a cab all the way (all the way!) from the 'Wood to Hackney so as to avoid stairs and escalators.
Plenty time to talk and grow comfy in each others' company. All good.
When we arrived, we went for lunch in the pub around the corner from the theatre. More accurately, the Goddings went for lunch, I just got plumbed in.
This had implications for my bladder once the show began. Luckily, I had seen the production before so I knew its rhythms. I selected a hiatus not long before the interval when I wouldn't disturb anyone and hurried off from my aisle seat to the loo.
Business conducted, I was leaning at the balcony at the back of the stalls when I chanced to look down to my left. Mimi Ndiweni (Ophelia) was crouching there hiding. (Exeunt Act III?)
"Hello," I murmured. She smiled shyly and gave me a little wave. Most surreal moment for me ever in a theatre.
No really a story about Brian, but it happened on my Brian day.