GUEST BLOG
By Tabitha Ronson For my birthday my friend announced that she had bought me tickets to see Kate Bush at Hammersmith.
At first I was speechless, unable to believe what I was hearing. This stunned silence was soon broken by one almighty squeal that lasted rather longer than was necessary.
I have been a fan of La Bush since first watching her as a little girl on Top Of The Pops, performing Wuthering Heights.
Her otherworldly voice and all that spinning around in a white nighty-cum-wedding dress had me transfixed. She didn't quite make my bedroom wall - this was reserved for Debbie Harry - but she did feature heavily in my early record collection.
Later on, her Hounds Of Love album would be the soundtrack to one particular love story that still haunts me. The album was and still is one of my all time favourites.
We were excitedly talking about the gig, my friend telling me how she had managed to get hold of these gold dust tickets. Front row, too! She then mentioned the date and how we'd grab food first and that the tickets were part of a special package that included a Champagne reception.
Rewind. What was the date again?
"I couldn't get them for your actual birthday," my friend said. "But this way it means your birthday celebrations will just be extended."
The date?
I wanted to cry. I have a non-existent social diary so how could I possibly have something that would clash with this wonderful opportunity.
"It's my cousin's wedding!"
I asked my colleagues, my friends and random people in supermarket queues, about what I should do. The consensus was overwhelmingly in favour of ditching the wedding for Kate.
On Friday, I watched my beautiful cousin get married. There was no way I couldn't be there. I did however shed at a tear, not only for how radiant she looked... but also for the fact that I was missing probably one of the best music experiences in my lifetime.
Working Mum, in the word's of Kate Bush's This Woman's Work: "Oh, darling, make it go away. Just make it go away now."
