Last Night of the Proms, is it

When the TV presenter says “thanks for tuning in all season” at the end of the Last Night of the Proms… I have a sudden, biting sense of my own ignorance. After all, I spent Saturday nights from July to September watching old episodes of 24 and The O.C. (sometimes back to back). I’m on season 6 of 24, it’s been silly for a while, but I’ve only just to got to “Hallelujah” in The O.C…. IYKYK.

I know what I am… I’m a cultural tourist. I shouldn’t be here. I’m taking photos of trumpeters I can’t even name, and thank God for Shazam, because I thought Beethoven was Tchaikovsky. A panic sets in as I realise I’m just pretending to be invested in what the BBC Symphony Orchestra have been up to all summer; I bet all these (very patriotic) sickos at the Royal Albert Hall have binge-watched every single Night. I bet they know all the words to Auld Lang Syne… the actual words.

I imagine stumbling into the gig, smack in the middle of Jerusalem, standing front row and centre, looking bewildered as a camera pans across the crowd and my face shows up on the big screen, looking something like “Study for a Portrait”, and not seconds before some Union Jack/tuxedo-boasting menace grabs me, demanding to know how I got the ticket and how many Elim Chan songs can I name.

It's true - I don’t belong here - but I like Queen and I paid for the ticket with my pocket money, Jack; I’m having fun, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

You’re just lucky it’s on before the football or I might have missed it completely.