Thursday, July 24th ....

The weather in Deloraine is cool today.  Marilyn is driving the Community Car and Jamie is at TAFE, Nera is not feeling particularly well and has taken to her bed, so the cat and I have the fire to ourselves.

Marilyn and I were at a function last night.  The Inner Wheel club was having its annual changeover and  celebrated with a meal at the British Hotel here in town.  Marilyn has been coerced into joining the club and will be inducted at their next meeting.  The meal was quite good and the company was chatty but the highlight of the evening was the entertainment.

Three middle-aged women, all smiles and energy introduced themselves as Trifle. The spokesperson, English, had written a poem to explain what they are about.  They don't really sing, and they don't really dance but they thought they would take a chance ... , and so on.  They believe their entertainment has many layers, like a trifle.

It was like watching a train wreck: you know it's awful but you can't take your eyes off it.  Their whole act was on an iphone attached to a stereo.  Old-time songs played while they changed costumes and we were expected to sing along.  Can you believe "I've got Sixpence' and 'Roll Out the Barrell'?  Their first skit had them dressed as babies, in nappies.  What is it about some people that lets them think that it's OK to lose your dignity like that?  Maybe it's OK for the Footy Show but not for a nice middle-class crowd like the Inner Wheel.  Anyway, when they scurried behind the bar to change, we listened to the Olde English Music Hall songs and waited to see what else would be inflicted upon us.

One of them appeared dressed like a girl from the 50's and mimed a rock 'n' roll song.  All the songs were mimed.  The problem was, we were so close, there was no magic.  We saw every wrinkle and every stumble.  The choice of songs was interesting:  a strong English influence, like Tommy Steel's Wot a Mouf, and Shirley Bassey. Their piece de resistance was 'Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better'.

I carelessly caught the 'singer's' eye when she was performing Shirley Bassey so she homed in on me and for one awful moment I thought she would drag me up to dance.  Marilyn kept telling me to keep my knees in just in case one of the performers sat on my lap.  

There was an interlude when one of the ladies did a comedy routione, dressed as an old granny with a stick.  She did make it topical by throwing in a bit of Jacqui Lambie's horrendous radio interview.  Ageist and sexist all at once.

Clearly some of the audience enjoyed it but most of us were cringing in embarrassment.  Just another one of life's little experiences.