So last Friday the best girlfriend ever and myself were having a glass or Viognier while cooking my beloved Penne with rosemarie’d lamb in white wine, Heart FM’s club classics pumping out the stereo. Inspired by the bass lines of Jamiroquai, Incognito and Chic we were grooving around the kitchen, chopping onions and garlic, all while shimmying our middle-aged booties (in the best girlfriend’s ever case of course a middle aged bootie that looks like a teenage one). Then her attractiveness suddenly declared:
‘Why are there no clubs for middle-aged people? This is London, for goodness sake’
Doesn’t she have a point? We are a club-owners dream: moderately affluent enough not to survive an evening on lager-shandies (after already having drunk a bottle of 2 pound Vodka at home), old enough not to get hopelessly drunk, destroy the interior and annoy the other guests, young enough to still party like it’s 1999 (well, I was around thirty then, so I was getting on a bit already. I am sure that Prince never imagined that partying like 1999 would be something reminisced about by middle aged geezers). The 30 to 40 year olds should be positively begged to appear in clubs: spending like hell, but still responsible enough to be home at a sensible time , without leaving the club in tatters. Looking at the Guardian’s clubbing diary, I can’t find any clubs advertising club nights for the moderately aged.
For heaven’s sake, is it too much to ask for a club night in which I can drink a decent red wine or a glass of Hoegaarden or two, dance outrageously happy to intelligent funk and soul without having to listen to rappers telling me how they knifed somebody while having intercourse with a gangsta-bosses female associate?
The government should do something about it immediately. Maybe the Liberal Democrats could put it on their next manifesto?
‘If elected, we will endeavour to improve access to clubs to the criminally neglected age-bracket from 30 to 40 by scheduling dedicated funk nights in urban dance halls”
That could be the ultimate vote winner for the Lib Dems. Heck, I might even vote Tory if Boris Johnson would promise me free Jazz Funk nights every second Friday of the month in the Royal Albert Hall. Instead he wants to eliminate the smoking ban. Talk about the wrong priorities.
So instead I have to continue to use the kitchen floor as my dance floor, and do my JK impressions and the air bass-guitar moves with the casserole.