It finally happened

The world went pear-shaped the week of my birthday in 2020. The coronavirus arrived and no one imagined it would still be wreaking havoc two years later.

I had so many lovely things planned for the festival of my 52nd birthday.

I was going to Comedy Steps Up for Bushfire Relief at Sydney Opera House to see Arj Barker, Carl Barron, Urzila Carlson, Joel Creasey, Kitty Flanagan, Tim Minchin, Julia Morris, Becky Lucas, Harry Shearer, Lawrence Mooney and Steph Tisdell.

Cancelled.

DD had booked a night at a fancy hotel afterwards, so I could wake up on my birthday in five-star luxury.

Cancelled.

We also had tickets to see Tim Minchin a few nights later at the Enmore Theatre.

Cancelled.

And there was a lavish dinner at a fancy restaurant, courtesy of an alcohol brand.

Cancelled.

Then leaving the house for anything other than exercise got cancelled too.

Damn you, COVID.

Fast forward two years and three attempts at rescheduling and I finally saw Tim Minchin at the Enmore Theatre last night.

It was awesome, loved every minute … although … Tim seemed to be having a bit of an existential crisis.

As we all are, really.

There was a certain … uncertainty … in him that felt very relatable.

Tim is dealing with middle-aged life in the age of COVID with teenaged children – Violet and Casper – and the cracks were visible.

He was very funny, but also melancholy.

As for the moment I got weepy, as I always do in live gigs these day, it hit me when he sang a song called “I’ll take lonely tonight”.

It goes like this:

I’ll take lonely tonight
Your offer is kind
And I must confess that I find
Your casual caresses and that pretty dress
Pretty hard to resist
And Christ, what a night
I think you’re pretty high
I know I’m pretty pissed
But I’ll take lonely tonight
Though I’m not denying
I hate being alone
Even so, I know regret in the making
You’re one of those others I swore I’d forsakeAnd although this extraction is taking
A great act of will
I got a girl, has my heart in a house on a hill
So though I am hungry and tempted
I’m sorry, I’m not going to bite
I’m gonna take lonelyI’ll take lonely tonight
Though I know I might well have future regrets
That I didn’t more often take up these chances
For what is life for but to shag, drink and dance
And teenager me would be screaming his pants off
Begging me to stayBut my girl has my heart in a house half a planet away
And I’d rather murder than hurt her
So sorry though it feels so right
I’m gonna take lonely tonightOdysseus wasn’t strong enough
To endure the siren song and so
He made his sailors tie him to a mast
And Jesus spent 40 days and 40 nights
And he stood his ground and fought his fight
And the devil tried but couldn’t break his fast
If this is true
The devil should’ve offered him you
GoddammitI’ll take lonely tonight
In my three-point-five star
Boutique hotel
Where I will spend 25 bucks
On minibar snacks
And pass out on my phoneAnd wake in four hours or so
Soaked in relief to find
I am alone
With only the wrappers
Of Pringles and Snickers
For which to atone
Blissfully lonely

I think the reason it hit me so hard is that he sang a song earlier in the gig that he confessed his wife doesn’t like. It’s called “If I didn’t have you” and it’s a cynical take on the concept of soulmates.

It goes like this:

If I didn’t have you to hold me tight
(If I didn’t have you)
If I didn’t have you to lie with at night
(When I’m feeling blue)
If I didn’t have you to share my sighs
(Share my sighs)
And to kiss me and dry my tears when I cry
Well I
Really think that I would
Have somebody else

However, he deeply loves the person he actually has, so much that he turned down the opportunity to cheat on them.

And I blubbed as I sat there in the Enmore Theatre.

I also felt a bit invincible in the middle of the throng because it was very unlikely I would catch COVID for a second time in a month.

I pushed my mask down, sipped my chardy, took long breaths of that potentially COVID-filled air and felt happy to be at a gig.

Although, DD possibly bought me one too many chardys to celebrate me enjoying wine again, so I also felt a little pie-eyed to be alive.

And he shaved his beard off an hour before picking me up. Still haven’t decided how I feel about it … although he’s hawt either way.

OK, I’d better pop a couple of Nurofen and face the day. You’d think that by age 53 I’d remember to drink a glass of water before going to bed after a big night out, but nope.

Song of the day: Tim Minchin “I’ll take lonely tonight”