The proms are a wonderful institution, but I don’t tend to have a great deal to do with them. (I mean of course the BBC music thing in the Royal Albert Hall, not the evil heteronormative behemoth that marks the end of formal schooling in the US and increasingly over here too)
In any given year my sole engagement with them is to vaguely hear something on the radio round about now and think “Gosh, are we in Prom season already?”
Then, a few months on, there starts to be massive trails for the Last Night of the Proms, and I think, “Gosh, is Prom season over already?”
I don’t even normally make the effort to tune in to the LNOTP – but if I’m home, and near a radio or TV and not otherwise occupied, I might turn it on for the best of the flagwaving.
I have once been to a prom, which was quite exciting, but as it was in the middle of a choir week, and I was a wee bit knackered, it was all I could do to stay awake.
This year, however, I am looking forward to note-by-note sarcastic commentary from a rather nice-looking young man who seems to know what he’s talking about. He’s doing video blogs and taking photos and everything. He wasn’t very impressed with today’s effort, and displayed his displeasure in a series of photos of himself looking less and less pleased. I shall watch with interest.