Husky Galore

I was very excited to nab a ticket for the BBC's Mastertapes recording of Donovan talking about Sunshine Superman, taking place at Maida Vale yesterday evening. (BBC tickets are free, and dished out by lottery. They also distribute more tickets than there are seats, to ensure a full house.)

I left work half an hour early to get to the studio well before the 6:30 doors, but, as often happens when I go to a strange part of London, I got lost and wasted some time. When I arrived at the venue, I took one look at the queue and knew I needn't bother taking my bike trousers off. I stuck around anyway, just to be turned away definitively.

Should've left work an hour early.

Should be better at navigating after all these years.

Stupid.

Ah well. Nobody died, as I remind myself when sad or annoying stuff happens. I did what I thought was best, and I was unlucky this time. Nor did I get angry with the young BBC bod who was only doing his job, unlike the people in front of me. But I did spend most of my evening riding around central London with absolutely nothing to show for it, and I missed out on seeing one of my favourite musicians live in an intimate setting. It's going to be a few days before I stop being miserable about it.