I’m looking for a younger man, someone who can hold me up when I fall.

There is a competition running on the radio to see Bruce Springsteen in New York City. It’s in aid of Children in Need and it costs £10 to enter, all of the proceeds going to C In N – I would love to see The Boss, especially in NYC.

On Tuesday morning the conversation between me and my patient husband (PH) went like this:

Me; “Would you like to see Bruce Springsteen?”

PH; “Oh I s’pose if he ever came to this country”

Me; “You wouldn’t like to see him in New York, then?”

PH; “What, you mean this competition?”

Me; “On Broadway, Upper Class Virgin Travel, three nights in the Hilton Midtown, you wouldn’t want to do that?”

PH: Sighs deeply “Can you think of the aggro getting there? It would be so much hassle and anyway, there’s probably a ‘get out clause’ for wheelchairs”.

It’s early in the morning and it took me a while to get the irony of a ‘get out clause’ for wheelchairs and I know that PH doesn’t do irony, so it wasn’t deliberate.  The conversation continues:

Me; “I don’t think Chris Evans or Virgin Atlantic would get away with such discrimination, do you?”

PH; “Well you’d never win anyway!”

Me; “No, probably you’re right but it’s for a good cause and I will read the t & c’s, just to check before I enter.”

PH; “You do what you wanna do, Saints are only two points off the bottom now.”

At this point I know the conversation is over, apart from me saying: “I could do this conversation in ‘stand up’, oh whoops, I’ve done it again!