I recall doing a bit of on stage material, perhaps improvised about the song Oh What a Night. Perhaps I am misremembering and perhaps I only wrote the material and didn't use it. The nub or crux of the material was that the events of late December back in 63 are somehow immortalised and in our collective memories. Some bloke got laid 50 years ago and we all know about it.
Tonight wasn't so momentus. It might have been.
I went for a night out with some old work colleagues. A good time and a nice curry was had by all. On the way home something odd happened. I was driving along when a light flashed on the bridge over the road. Was it a speed camera? Was I speeding? I checked. I didn't think I was and it looked like I was fine. As I was pondering what was going on, the road ahead didn't make sense. Lights and shadows on my side of the dual carriageway were not correct.
I kind of instantly worked out what I had been seeing. The guy on the bridge was flashing me a warning as there was a car across the carriageway. It looked to be doing a three point turn in order to face me. I didn't really have time to think. I just reacted.
Years of trying to react logically kicked in. My inner director took control, found the gap, had me applying the brakes in a controlled fashion while ignoring the shock of the situation. My hands were firm on the steering wheel. In fairness there was most of a lane and the hard shoulder to work with. It was not a close shave... It was weird. I couldn't work out whether the car that had been across the road then turned to face me, or drove back up the carriageway facing the oncoming traffic.
I still don't know. I was fairly adrenaline charged as I pulled over at the petrol station. I asked the next car to pull in whether they had encountered the same thing. They hadn't. No need to call the police.
I didn't die.