My utterly gorgeous friend, Jane, got Amazon people to send my Live at Leeds, which arrived in post and was waiting for me when I got home from guinnessfest in Pevril on the Peak Tuesday night (and a top night that was too, cheers Row).
After I staggered in from work last night I put it on the ipod and headed for bed.
I am now slightly deaf from listening to a 17-minute My Generation full pelt, three times on way to work... indescribably brilliant. And apologies for the poor sods sitting anywhere near me.
But I just ran into Norma from the postroom. I'll actually take my ipod off to talk to her.
'Ooh I'm listening to the Who, live at Leeds,' I said.
'Oh - I saw them in Bolton in the Sixties - they were really good,' she says, smiling.
'Really?'
'Oh yes, I got Keith Moon's drum stick. I had loads, I used to collect them.'
'Really?' I say again, eyes widening with a heady mix of excitement and envy. 'Have you still got them?'
'Oh no, I threw them all out over the years.'
'What a shame... it would be worth a fortune today as well.'
Norma is probably now beating herself with her stamping machine as I type.
