In the distance, the home of Manchester United, labelled by many the Theatre of Dreams. In the foreground, my own Theatre of Dreams, my Lynne.
The date, St Patrick’s Day 2013.
The vintage, 68 years.
It doesn’t come much tastier. We were strolling along the canal in Salford on our way to see the Dubliners. in the Lowrey centre, when we stopped for a photo call.
As an art student in Stockport in the 1960’s my queen had been with Salford artist LS Lowrey as he sketched the stick people that were to make him a national icon.
And do you know, her eyes still shine like diamonds, I thought her the queen of the land, and her hair it hung over her shoulder, tied up in a black velvet band.
We spent the night in a nearby Holiday Inn, and had breakfast with a young Indonesian couple and a family of east Europeans, all dressed in Manchester United shirts.
They were here to see their theatre of dreams. But I was delighted to have shared an evening and a bed with my own very important theatre of dreams, my very own Lynne.
I can’t wait for next year, when she’ll be 69.