Six degrees of inadequacy

Last night I went to the theatre to see Six Degrees of Separation. Worried that I always hate everything I see at The Old Vic, I had bought £10 restricted view bench seats in the gods, and was thrilled on arrival to hear the best words in the world, 'Madam, you've been upgraded', and was presented with two seats in the middle of the stalls, simultaneously a joy and a sure sign of a struggling production. The play's concept is well-known (especially to those of us who've already seen the film) but I can't really see the justification for putting on a new version. Despite the interesting premise, it's not saying anything new, the concepts are either cliched or dated, and the acting wasn't as good as it could have been. I actually missed Will Smith. That said, for £10 I'm not complaining. Well, I am, but not to the extent that I regret going. I'd only have done something else and then moaned about that. And going to see a bad play is still a fun night out for me, perverse though that may be.

I just phoned my parents. One of them picked up, fumbled with the receiver for, I'm not joking, about 25 seconds, like some sort of feeble geriatric, which would be OK if they were seriously old but they're not. In the background I could hear the lunchtime news talking about Afghanistan. "Morons?" I was barking into the receiver. They couldn't hear me. I hung up. Now their line is engaged. I think this is the shape of things to come. I phoned my mum's mobile to tell her, but obviously, being over 60, she only has a mobile for emergencies and it is thus COMPLETELY USELESS to anyone else. I got her voicemail but didn't leave a message as I know from past experience that she doesn't know how to pick them up. I've now emailed her. She may find the message in a few hours. Not that it's really that much of a disaster that I can't speak to my parents this second, but I am bored and want to complain about that to someone who will give me sympathy. Thinking about it, my mum is probably not the best person to try. Leave the phone off the hook, you cavemen. See if I care.