One night around one O'clock I was flipping through channels and found a concert from the seventies of Chuck Berry in London. I remember watching the whole thing with my mother and grandmother.
It is a very fond memory and, for reasons I'm going to attempt to explain, very surreal.
Chuck Berry is an American Rock Legend. Viewing him on late night television on a cluster of islands in the middle of Scandinavia is an odd experience. It was also light out. Well, it wasn't dark. It was like dusk had settled in and night was realizing it had better advance in. Never got the chance though, the sun rises again quite early. The birds never stop chirping. The age of the concert also contributed to the strangeness of the evening, no where were wild adolescents jumping around. Everyone was gathered around sitting peacefully and listening to the music. Watching the man perform. Like we were at home. There were even some people in suits. Everything seemed strangely subdued, too. Like everything was happening on the other side of a lightly tinted glass.
Fond memories of a foreign land.