Being Mr. Kenny

A few days ago I got back from a trip to London for the weekend. And I literally mean the weekend, we arrived Saturday and left Sunday. It was a whistle-stop tour. Oh my goodness, it’s impossible to avoid clichés, isn’t it? I mean, ‘whistle-stop’ — done to death.

Anyway, London was fantastic. We saw The Producers (the musical) which was an actual riot. I have never been so entertained in the Theatre; if you get the chance to see it, go twice. And pay double the second time around, it’s really that good!

Whilst in London I took the opportunity to catch up with my lovely friend, Antonia White. Ms White once extracted a promise from me to dedicate a blog post to her many months ago, and I have been failing to produce the goods ever since. But not because I haven’t wanted to! My usual approach is to writing posts is just to bash the keyboard at random and see what comes out. You know, hope for the best!

But to blog about a specific topic given by someone else is actually quite tricky. Hence the title. What finally pushed me into blogging was being permitted to share chocolate ice cream, which frankly is a good reason to do a great number of things.

Antonia’s mother’s house in Bath is one of the very few places in the world where I have actually enjoyed drinking wine. To be horribly philistine about the matter, I normally find wine to taste like anti-freeze. I must admit, I think it is greatly over-rated. I can take about two sips and think, “hmm, maybe,” but one sip more and it’s all over — back to anti-freeze. I might as well be drinking toilet cleaner or nail polish remover. But at Antonia’s, I can drink a whole glass and understand how it compliments the food, has elements of oak, etc.

Antonia’s mother’s house is one where it is quite acceptable to look things up in an encyclopaedia over dinner. This makes my heart sing.

I first met Antonia when we were both studying for our A Levels. I say ‘both,’ but use the word lightly. In fact, Antonia studied, I merely moped around in the hopes that filling my head with misery would count for something come exam season. It didn’t, but we live to learn, do we not?

Anyway, from the first day we met I knew we’d be best friends forever and ever.

Right, Antonia, that’s your lot!