Posted by: twobigyellowcranes | 18 June 08

“It’s for my wee sister…”

I walked past Easons on Donegall Place at lunchtime today and there were at least 10 girls with tents and/or sleeping bags queuing outside to be sure to meet Westlife at a book signing the following evening. Is it just me, or is that mental?

I’m not even really saying this because it is Westlife, who I kind of get the appeal of (they are in essence good looking, decent kareoke singers, which I am not judging by my version of ‘Sweet Caroline’ in Ballintoy on Friday night). I can remember meeting famous footballers when I was young and literally loving the autographs or photographs I got. I can also remember making H wait outside the back of the Ulster Hall for about an hour one winter so I could meet and thank Neil Finn for all he has done to enrich my life (I was maybe just 20). However, now… not so much (the meeting of people, not the enduring appeal of Neil Finn).

Maybe it is an age thing. Most professional footballers I support are now younger than me, so I can’t idolise them. Maybe it is a maturity thing, because I appreciate that meeting them is highly unlikely to have any lasting impact on either of our lives. Maybe its a “cool” thing, because I still like seeing famous people and nodding at them in a removed, knowing way (this is genuinely famous people I’m talking about  not those buffoons from ‘Give my head peace’ who seem to want to catch everyone’s eyes when you seem them walking through town).

Anyone you would queue for a whole unpleasantly warm and wet day to meet to exchange 2 minutes of platitudes with?

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Responses

  1. All of my attempts to meet Neil Finn have been a resounding failure – I blame the labyrinthine corridors of the Waterfront Hall!

  2. You’ll not be surprised to hear me say: Bono. Also maybe Robert Mugabe -but not for a chat (see recent comment on QMs blog)

  3. nice post…

    i felt urged to write a confessional on my blog re: the singer from Cracker.


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