At The Oscars

A good bike in, although it's windy again but after Sunday it just feels like a light breeze. It was still hard work because my legs are still very tired, although this could be more from the pasting last night rather than from Sunday.

Things are much better on the way home and unless my computer is deceiving me, I knocked two minutes off my PB. It's a bit hard to believe but who am I to argue with technology.

L's already home and she's gone out exercising the pet, Doggo that is. I have a quick snack, or as L so delicately puts it, 'some slag to stop me fainting'. This is because we're at the Oscars tonight, well kind of; we’re at the school for Son's GCSE presentation evening. This is a bit of a novelty to me because we didn't have such things when I was at school, you just helped yourself to your certificates out of a box in some darkened storeroom. Naturally anticipation is rife, that is with every one but the person being presented to. Even his father is there to witness the event.

As we arrive at the hall, a laptop is displaying lots of photos of the year group, taken at various school events, on a screen, all with a musical accompaniment. All very impressive, that is until the blue screen of death kicks in and somebody has to go find a technician to restart it.

Even more impressive is the way Son has managed to avoid being on any of the hundreds of photos, it's as if he's already airbrushed the school out of his life. Naturally he's very pleased about this.

The event kicks off with a few songs. A young lad from year 10 who clearly, from the way he dresses and his choice of music, wants to be Pete Doherty delivers a rendition of the Libertine’s ‘Music When The Lights Go Out’. With lines like I'll confess all of my sins after several large gins and all the memories of the pubs and the clubs, and the drugs and the tubs we shared together, I’m not sure it’s quite the things for a school event but we'll gloss over that. He is though rather good. There’s a couple of other less memorable warblings from a couple of current female pupils, the obligatory address from the headmistress and a couple of clearly scripted introductions and thank you's from current pupils.

The guest of honour is a former Deputy Head from the school. He delivers a lecture, sorry I mean address, on having aspirations and making something of yourself. I bet all the kids returning for their certificates thought they’d left school. Oddly he doesn't refer to our little year 10 singer, who was aspiring to a life of debauchery with illegal substances and Kate Moss.

The guest of honour, I’m afraid, goes on a bit. Those who are still awake at the end clap politely.

Eventually Son goes up for his moment of glory and even smiles for the camera. The crowd are on their feet, clapping, cheering and shouting 'speech speech', well not quite.

Then to round things off, a couple of the leavers do a spot of human beatboxing complete with their own witty lyrics, which is very good and then one of the Governors does a fairly moving speech to close the proceedings, that probably had L welling up.

Back at home our computer monitor fizzes and the screen goes black. Bugger, this is really going to disrupt my blogging. So forced into an early night, I find solace with the French Knickered one in the bedroom.