Barbra Streisand Concert
By Bock Jul 16th, 2007 | Category: Music
Wasn’t that terrible? Wasn’t it just awful that the Barbra Streisand gig at Castletown House was a complete wash-out (especially considering the fact that some people paid €550 for their seats)?
What??? You heard me right. €550 to sit in a muddy field listening to a self-obsessed old gin-room entertainer croaking songs from the shallow end of superficial. I would personally be prepared to pay €1,000 to avoid going to a Barbra Streisand concert.
Jesus, I love it! A new Glastonbury for the Cabaret people. Everywhere you look, it’s strings of pearls, hair-dos, powder blue V-necked pullovers and white turtlenecks with little golfers and crocodiles on them. Fourteen thousand of them. An army of complacent fools — the shock-troops of smugness — marching out to Castletown House, having paid painful amounts of cash to see the miserable old bat that is Barbra Streisand. And when they arrive, (an hour late due to the badly-managed traffic generated by the event) the show is half finished, the organisers have moved people with cheaper tickets up to the front so that Barbra won’t have to be looking at empty seats, they’re up to their necks in mud, ruining their trouser-suits and Hush Puppies, and even then the stewards won’t give them back their expensive seats.
Not only that, but when they ask for their seats back, the squatters abuse them verbally and physically. Fights break out. Old Big-nose has to issue a special appeal from the stage: People! People! Please!
Jesus, I just love it.
You pay €550 for the privilege of trudging through a muddy field with thousands more of the smuggerati, to hear one singer go through a back catalogue so tired it should be in a nursing home, you end up soaked and filthy, with a broken nose and a black eye, and then you take two more hours before you can even get out of the car park.
To say that I was enjoying this would be a severe understatement. I love it.
Smuggerati.
Love it.
You’re very cruel, Bock! Personally, I wouldn’t be bothered paying a five cent piece for Babs, but that lot were treated really badly. Then again, sure the story is only Ireland in microcosm. We pay big bucks to get shafted every day!
Ah….the law of unintended consequences has my black and withered heart brimming with joy at this.
Hearty cackling wasn’t enough.I had to break out the celebratory Barry’s.
Bwahahahaha … enough to make me pee my polyester power pants!
Isn’t it rich? Aren’t we a pair? You there at last on the grounds, and me still in the car on the M4. I let you walk ahead.
At €550 a head, they had to be clowns. No traffic control but MCD said send in the clowns.
(With apologies to Sondheim)
People. People that pay people,
Are the muddiest people in the world.
Was that a Babs song? Bah, couldn’t care less. If you pay inflated prices to see and inflated ego, you deserve to get wet.
Only 14,000? Streisand could have stuck them up her nose to keep them dry, no problem.
If she dropped her trunks in front of ya you wouldn’t say no, well I wouldn’t.
Yaaay Oxegen for oldies…. Octogen!!!
I am still laffing me arse off at dat one b3n….