Morrissey attends Dana Gillespie And The London Blues Band at Crawdaddy Club, Richmond (May 10, 2024)

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Image & information courtesy of Michiyo via X.
FWD.
 
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This makes me really happy. Just seeing him out and about and looking wonderful….Sure it was nowhere near me. But things like this keep my little dream (that never leaves my mind) he’ll be around MOZ Angeles for a show or a couple in the near future. It’s been two years, since I seen him last. YARTQ 20th anniversary hurt. But he doesn’t owe us anything else. And I know he had his reasons. I’m always on his side and forever will be…
But he’ll be around soon.
yip,he has paid his dues with well over a thousand concerts.give that man a gold clock for his service.
 
Yes, surely it was Damon. I also thought it was so lovely. The fan was so taken by his kind and blue eyes. Sweet, sweet, sweet. But I had to laugh at "Too good-looking old man." But maybe that was a translation thing.;)
Yes, I always like to know whether Damon's on the scene, no mention when he was spotted at Grantley Hall and Cut-Throat Lane. Pleased that one's cleared up!
 
The day I met Morrissey, Friday, May 10...
Thank you for staying with me on this long, long thread. I wrote this to share the excitement of the day with Morrissey fans. Also, as a reminder for me: [pic of Morrissey]

Appreciating this post; most enjoyable read :flowers:
 
Shit , the bed I was there with wife and daughter and had no clue M was there
We even went to a pub and chatted with some of the people who went , nobody mentioned M was there . Aye he looks good I’m not a fan of any of Jobraths tunes makes me fecking chuckle when the gay boys try and pretend he was Bowies competition , as fecking if

M looks great though, looks like he had fun there. Anyone know who he was with ?
Aye up I was thinking artists voices tend to start going by 70 look at Bryan Ferry and Elton, so I hope M packs some shows in
The weather has been shit this year in the UK, Hastings has been depressing AF, so it was nice having a sunny day with the fam in London
 
The day I met Morrissey, Friday, May 10
This morning, not wanting to wake up from my dream, I greeted the morning. I can tell you that I have a grin on my face. Was last night a dream?
To my surprise, I heard that the Northern Lights were observed in London. I didn't see it. But instead, solar flares brought me to Morrissey.
After work, I got dressed in a big hurry and ran to the bus stop with my Uncle S. I ran up the hill, sweating and heaving. I almost resigned myself to the fact that 15 minutes was nothing to worry about, but when he told me that the bus would be here in three minutes, for some reason I persevered.
I changed buses once before arriving at my destination. London was sunny, the bus was almost full, and it was hot and humid, so S and I struck up a casual conversation about the main event of the evening. We were headed to a place in Richmond. It was our first time there. Yes, we were going to see Dana Gillespie play a gig.
I told my colleague, who is a Morrissey fan, that Morrissey might come to Dana's gig tonight, and I would send him a picture if he did. I was so paranoid that I didn't stop talking about it even after we got off the bus at the destination, and S said, “How long do you have to keep talking about it? I laughed bitterly.
It was the first day of Dana's tour and also the release date of her cover single of Morrissey's classic “Spent The Day in Bed”. I had high hopes that Dana would do this song. I was also under the delusion that Marc Almond, who produced the song with Morrissey, might be there.
I walked excitedly from the bus stop to a grassy area where they play cricket and rugby. A big turquoise Bentley with a big spoiler caught my eye, and I said to S., “That looks like a car Dana would drive,” as we made our way through the deserted grounds.
After walking about 50 meters, we passed by a building with music blaring, but S said, “Not here,” so we continued on. Then, 50 meters ahead, we finally see a shadow. Three people walking from the opposite direction and two people coming out of a blue car. Apparently, they were concert attenders, too. I then walked toward the direction they were in.
The first group of three passed in front of me. And as I approached the second group, a bell rang in my head. Suddenly, my heart began to pound. A familiar face. No way, no way! I quickly turned to S and said, “No, it's Morrissey!“ S's expression changed as he said, “Oh, no way!“
The person I had fantasized about until just a few minutes ago is right in front of me! Am I a magician? Or is this the law of attraction? I was thinking about all of these things, but my body was drawn to Morrissey without hesitation. I could see the confusion on his manager's face, but I couldn't let that bother me!
“Hello!”
There was only Morrissey, the man who looked like his manager, me, and S. What a situation! What a situation! It can't be!
“I'm a big fan. I'm honored to meet you here,” a common cliché he must have heard a zillion times. Then, “I'm wearing your T-shirt!” I unfolded my jacket and showed it to him.
Morrissey smiled broadly, “It's Edith Sitwell's, isn't it?” (No, I'm glad I wore my Morrissey T-shirt!“ (Actually, my other choice was the X-Ray Spex that Morrissey had worn at a previous show. I mean, it could have gone either way!) And Morrissey wore the Jobrias tee. Too good-looking old man! Dazzling! He has kind eyes!
I asked him, “May I take a picture with you?” He readily agreed. A man who seemed to be the manager said, “I'll take your picture,” and he did it quickly. I leaned in close to Morrissey with my arm around him and took the one and only special picture of us (I know I look funny... lol). Then we shook hands. It was a dream come true.
Then the four of us (“us”, lol) left the parking lot and again walked to a building that looked like avenue, which we could see 50 meters away. All the while, Morrissey and I chatted. Morrissey kept his eyes firmly fixed on me. Morrissey's tone was either serious or joking. He was not at all star-struck. (We took a break here.) “You guys are heading in the same direction,” he says.
Are you guys headed in the same direction? What are you doing? (pause here) “Are you guys attending the concert?” “What are you doing here?“ His blue eyes are kind to a fault. I'm getting choked up. Speechless, I say, but continue the conversation (lol), ‘Is Marc Almond coming too?’
Moz: “Oh, is he coming too?” he says, “No, I don't know. He's a producer, so I don't know.”
Moz: “Dana is not doing ‘Spent The Day in Bed’ tonight. And “Andy Warhol” as well! Even though today is the release date of the single?”
Moz “Yes, why doesn't she do it? Shall we go home now? He joked again.
S: “Did you fly in from America?”
Moz smiles back, “No, no, I didn't.“
Morrissey, a man who appears and disappears from everywhere, seems to visit many places. And when we arrive at the entrance of the venue, the blue-eyed Morrissey urges me to go ahead. Morrissey follows me. It was as if we were a party!
The venue was almost full. The jazz and blues crowd was somewhat aware of Morrissey, but they were calm. I guessed that S and I were the only Morrissey fans. I had to show my ticket to the woman at the entrance, but I couldn't play with my phone because I was so excited to see Morrissey beside me. I was in a hurry and thought to myself, “Wow, I can't think straight.
The woman in charge of the entrance told me, “Just your name is fine. Then I saw Dana, the star of the evening, behind the sales table. When Dana noticed Morrissey, she said, “I'm so glad you came! I'm so glad!” and began to greet her again right in front of her. I left them with a thrill and went with S to rummage through the merchandise table.
I found a single of “Spent The Day in Bed,” which had just been released that day. I immediately bought two copies, one for me and one for S. I have to get Morrissey and Dana to sign it. As I carefully and slowly remove a third of the plastic wrap, as I always do, to save the sticker, some guy comes up behind me and says, “Did you pay for that?
Did you pay for that? I replied with a miffed look on my face, “Yes, I paid for it! I replied with a miffed look on my face and said nothing. I felt bad, but I said to the lady, “You paid it, didn't you? The lady said, “Yes, I paid for it. Then, the uncle was giving her some kind of warning. What's wrong with you?
I composed myself, borrowed a black pen from the lady, and quietly waited behind Dana and Morrissey. (I have to get this mission done before she starts singing. I don't know when Morrissey will be back, and this is the only time I have!) Then Dana noticed me and said, “Oh, you bought it? Thank you. I'll sign it. What's your name?”
And to Morrissey standing beside me, “I'd love to have your autograph too!” I said, “Of course, with pleasure! and again his knockout smile made my heart beat faster and faster. Morrissey is almost as tall as S. She is slimmer and younger than when I saw her on stage before. I'm in love.
With my name, Dana asked, “Which country is your name from?” I replied, “I live here, but I am from Japan. I have never been to Japan. I would love to go there,” to which I replied, ”You should visit! I replied, “You most definitely should visit!”
When I asked him to sign for S, he said that Dana had misspelled his name: S is Steven, like Morrissey, but his name is Stephen, not Morrissey's Steven. Dana said, “I'm sorry, I should have spelled it right.”
Dana said, “I'm sorry, I'll rewrite it,” to which S replied, “No, no, don't worry about it. It's all the same,” and S replied, ”No, don't worry about it. Morrissey then wittily added “To Stephen” and signed Morrissey underneath it. He wrote it as if it was Stephen Morrissey and his full name. I was in love again.
We thanked him and left where they were and headed to the bar. And I immediately gave X the image of the treasure I had just gotten at the bar counter right then and there. After a while, Morrissey and the manager came to the bar and ordered beers. The brand was London Pride, and it was a treat to see Morrissey in his off mode.
I also enjoyed a glass of red wine, a standard drink, and looked around the small venue. It looks like a slightly posh version of a typical British sports club. It seems to have a history of big names like the Rolling Stones, the Yardbirds, and Rod Stewart playing here.
Morrissey and the manager are modestly standing quietly in the back drinking beer. The venue was packed and there was no place to sit down. Morrissey, a superstar, did not give off an aura of a star, but rather blended in with the atmosphere of the venue. Seeing Morrissey like this made us fall more and more in love with his moderation, manners, and normalcy.
The venue was hot and humid, and it was getting harder and harder for the middle-aged and the elderly to remain standing, even though they had been trained to do so by standing at shows. It is a real relief when there are seats at a show. It must be even tougher for Morrissey, who is now 64 years old. After a while, Dana left the venue and she and Morrissey went outside.
It was getting hot and we wanted to sit down, so we went outside and sat down on a bench, not that we were going to follow him. We looked over and saw Morrissey, Dana, and the others chatting and taking pictures on a bench a little further away from us. Maybe it will be published somewhere soon.
That was the last time I saw Morrissey.
The show was about to start, so we went back inside, but Morrissey and her friends seemed to be outside listening to her music.
Dana's show was absolutely fantastic. Her singing was powerful and bouncy with a great sense of humor. The band was also first-rate and brilliant. The young guitarist, 28 years old in particular, was amazing with his technique.
Dana played “Andy Warhol,” which Morrissey had said she would not do, and I was hoping that maybe she would do “Spent The Day in Bed” (no way, Morrissey might have even jumped in), but in the end she did not do it. After thinking about it, I realized that it might have been because it was not suitable for today's audience.
Having thoroughly enjoyed Dana's show, we left the venue, telling Dana how impressed we were. Naturally, Morrissey was not there. No blue car. I felt a little sad, but I was more than elated and happy. I must have had a bottle of red wine. I was not drunk and headed home in a dreamy state.
Thank you for staying with me on this long, long thread. I wrote this to share the excitement of the day with Morrissey fans. Also, as a reminder for me: [pic of Morrissey]
Such a sweet story! I felt like I was in their shoes for a moment. What a day that would have been. Chatting with Morrissey like it's the most normal thing in the world. He's fascinating.
 
The day I met Morrissey, Friday, May 10
This morning, not wanting to wake up from my dream, I greeted the morning. I can tell you that I have a grin on my face. Was last night a dream?
To my surprise, I heard that the Northern Lights were observed in London. I didn't see it. But instead, solar flares brought me to Morrissey.
After work, I got dressed in a big hurry and ran to the bus stop with my Uncle S. I ran up the hill, sweating and heaving. I almost resigned myself to the fact that 15 minutes was nothing to worry about, but when he told me that the bus would be here in three minutes, for some reason I persevered.
I changed buses once before arriving at my destination. London was sunny, the bus was almost full, and it was hot and humid, so S and I struck up a casual conversation about the main event of the evening. We were headed to a place in Richmond. It was our first time there. Yes, we were going to see Dana Gillespie play a gig.
I told my colleague, who is a Morrissey fan, that Morrissey might come to Dana's gig tonight, and I would send him a picture if he did. I was so paranoid that I didn't stop talking about it even after we got off the bus at the destination, and S said, “How long do you have to keep talking about it? I laughed bitterly.
It was the first day of Dana's tour and also the release date of her cover single of Morrissey's classic “Spent The Day in Bed”. I had high hopes that Dana would do this song. I was also under the delusion that Marc Almond, who produced the song with Morrissey, might be there.
I walked excitedly from the bus stop to a grassy area where they play cricket and rugby. A big turquoise Bentley with a big spoiler caught my eye, and I said to S., “That looks like a car Dana would drive,” as we made our way through the deserted grounds.
After walking about 50 meters, we passed by a building with music blaring, but S said, “Not here,” so we continued on. Then, 50 meters ahead, we finally see a shadow. Three people walking from the opposite direction and two people coming out of a blue car. Apparently, they were concert attenders, too. I then walked toward the direction they were in.
The first group of three passed in front of me. And as I approached the second group, a bell rang in my head. Suddenly, my heart began to pound. A familiar face. No way, no way! I quickly turned to S and said, “No, it's Morrissey!“ S's expression changed as he said, “Oh, no way!“
The person I had fantasized about until just a few minutes ago is right in front of me! Am I a magician? Or is this the law of attraction? I was thinking about all of these things, but my body was drawn to Morrissey without hesitation. I could see the confusion on his manager's face, but I couldn't let that bother me!
“Hello!”
There was only Morrissey, the man who looked like his manager, me, and S. What a situation! What a situation! It can't be!
“I'm a big fan. I'm honored to meet you here,” a common cliché he must have heard a zillion times. Then, “I'm wearing your T-shirt!” I unfolded my jacket and showed it to him.
Morrissey smiled broadly, “It's Edith Sitwell's, isn't it?” (No, I'm glad I wore my Morrissey T-shirt!“ (Actually, my other choice was the X-Ray Spex that Morrissey had worn at a previous show. I mean, it could have gone either way!) And Morrissey wore the Jobrias tee. Too good-looking old man! Dazzling! He has kind eyes!
I asked him, “May I take a picture with you?” He readily agreed. A man who seemed to be the manager said, “I'll take your picture,” and he did it quickly. I leaned in close to Morrissey with my arm around him and took the one and only special picture of us (I know I look funny... lol). Then we shook hands. It was a dream come true.
Then the four of us (“us”, lol) left the parking lot and again walked to a building that looked like avenue, which we could see 50 meters away. All the while, Morrissey and I chatted. Morrissey kept his eyes firmly fixed on me. Morrissey's tone was either serious or joking. He was not at all star-struck. (We took a break here.) “You guys are heading in the same direction,” he says.
Are you guys headed in the same direction? What are you doing? (pause here) “Are you guys attending the concert?” “What are you doing here?“ His blue eyes are kind to a fault. I'm getting choked up. Speechless, I say, but continue the conversation (lol), ‘Is Marc Almond coming too?’
Moz: “Oh, is he coming too?” he says, “No, I don't know. He's a producer, so I don't know.”
Moz: “Dana is not doing ‘Spent The Day in Bed’ tonight. And “Andy Warhol” as well! Even though today is the release date of the single?”
Moz “Yes, why doesn't she do it? Shall we go home now? He joked again.
S: “Did you fly in from America?”
Moz smiles back, “No, no, I didn't.“
Morrissey, a man who appears and disappears from everywhere, seems to visit many places. And when we arrive at the entrance of the venue, the blue-eyed Morrissey urges me to go ahead. Morrissey follows me. It was as if we were a party!
The venue was almost full. The jazz and blues crowd was somewhat aware of Morrissey, but they were calm. I guessed that S and I were the only Morrissey fans. I had to show my ticket to the woman at the entrance, but I couldn't play with my phone because I was so excited to see Morrissey beside me. I was in a hurry and thought to myself, “Wow, I can't think straight.
The woman in charge of the entrance told me, “Just your name is fine. Then I saw Dana, the star of the evening, behind the sales table. When Dana noticed Morrissey, she said, “I'm so glad you came! I'm so glad!” and began to greet her again right in front of her. I left them with a thrill and went with S to rummage through the merchandise table.
I found a single of “Spent The Day in Bed,” which had just been released that day. I immediately bought two copies, one for me and one for S. I have to get Morrissey and Dana to sign it. As I carefully and slowly remove a third of the plastic wrap, as I always do, to save the sticker, some guy comes up behind me and says, “Did you pay for that?
Did you pay for that? I replied with a miffed look on my face, “Yes, I paid for it! I replied with a miffed look on my face and said nothing. I felt bad, but I said to the lady, “You paid it, didn't you? The lady said, “Yes, I paid for it. Then, the uncle was giving her some kind of warning. What's wrong with you?
I composed myself, borrowed a black pen from the lady, and quietly waited behind Dana and Morrissey. (I have to get this mission done before she starts singing. I don't know when Morrissey will be back, and this is the only time I have!) Then Dana noticed me and said, “Oh, you bought it? Thank you. I'll sign it. What's your name?”
And to Morrissey standing beside me, “I'd love to have your autograph too!” I said, “Of course, with pleasure! and again his knockout smile made my heart beat faster and faster. Morrissey is almost as tall as S. She is slimmer and younger than when I saw her on stage before. I'm in love.
With my name, Dana asked, “Which country is your name from?” I replied, “I live here, but I am from Japan. I have never been to Japan. I would love to go there,” to which I replied, ”You should visit! I replied, “You most definitely should visit!”
When I asked him to sign for S, he said that Dana had misspelled his name: S is Steven, like Morrissey, but his name is Stephen, not Morrissey's Steven. Dana said, “I'm sorry, I should have spelled it right.”
Dana said, “I'm sorry, I'll rewrite it,” to which S replied, “No, no, don't worry about it. It's all the same,” and S replied, ”No, don't worry about it. Morrissey then wittily added “To Stephen” and signed Morrissey underneath it. He wrote it as if it was Stephen Morrissey and his full name. I was in love again.
We thanked him and left where they were and headed to the bar. And I immediately gave X the image of the treasure I had just gotten at the bar counter right then and there. After a while, Morrissey and the manager came to the bar and ordered beers. The brand was London Pride, and it was a treat to see Morrissey in his off mode.
I also enjoyed a glass of red wine, a standard drink, and looked around the small venue. It looks like a slightly posh version of a typical British sports club. It seems to have a history of big names like the Rolling Stones, the Yardbirds, and Rod Stewart playing here.
Morrissey and the manager are modestly standing quietly in the back drinking beer. The venue was packed and there was no place to sit down. Morrissey, a superstar, did not give off an aura of a star, but rather blended in with the atmosphere of the venue. Seeing Morrissey like this made us fall more and more in love with his moderation, manners, and normalcy.
The venue was hot and humid, and it was getting harder and harder for the middle-aged and the elderly to remain standing, even though they had been trained to do so by standing at shows. It is a real relief when there are seats at a show. It must be even tougher for Morrissey, who is now 64 years old. After a while, Dana left the venue and she and Morrissey went outside.
It was getting hot and we wanted to sit down, so we went outside and sat down on a bench, not that we were going to follow him. We looked over and saw Morrissey, Dana, and the others chatting and taking pictures on a bench a little further away from us. Maybe it will be published somewhere soon.
That was the last time I saw Morrissey.
The show was about to start, so we went back inside, but Morrissey and her friends seemed to be outside listening to her music.
Dana's show was absolutely fantastic. Her singing was powerful and bouncy with a great sense of humor. The band was also first-rate and brilliant. The young guitarist, 28 years old in particular, was amazing with his technique.
Dana played “Andy Warhol,” which Morrissey had said she would not do, and I was hoping that maybe she would do “Spent The Day in Bed” (no way, Morrissey might have even jumped in), but in the end she did not do it. After thinking about it, I realized that it might have been because it was not suitable for today's audience.
Having thoroughly enjoyed Dana's show, we left the venue, telling Dana how impressed we were. Naturally, Morrissey was not there. No blue car. I felt a little sad, but I was more than elated and happy. I must have had a bottle of red wine. I was not drunk and headed home in a dreamy state.
Thank you for staying with me on this long, long thread. I wrote this to share the excitement of the day with Morrissey fans. Also, as a reminder for me: [pic of Morrissey]
Thank you for your story. I have enjoyed reading it. What an amazing thing to happen to you!
 
I sometimes venture outside with my Bodyguard/ Shampoo Artist. I drag myself out of my swanky hotel room to attend 60's chicks' gigs in the sticks. Once there, after posing for my international fans and signing the performing artists' records, I'm ready to go back to the hotel. But inexplicably I find myself on a bench outside the joint having a beer with Albert, the senior roadie. He has some stories! Andro (my android) always encourages me to discreetly record them for my next Autobio. On such outings, wild as the evening might get (sometimes I mingle with the crowd for as long as 7 minutes! And then Andro puts up the oxygen tent, and it feels quite like we're camping), I remember the whole world is watching me, so I try to make the evening meaningful by choosing a tshirt with a message. This week for instance, I'm wearing one that says "Bibi Blows."

Morrissey does exactly the same thing, except he doesn't have that Tshirt. He has a couple of tshirts that denounce evol dictatomofockers, but not one that says "Nathanyahu is shit". Or else it's in the wash.
The trouble is, as he's the John Lennon of Our Times, people expect him to have a position. So when he wears a Jobriath tshirt, people point and ask, "Hey! Morrissey! Is that the President who kills thousands of civilians, including little children?" And then he's brought back to awful earth, awful violent reality. There's no escaping the truth anymore. He has to face the terrible, inhuman facts:



...Jobriath is still largely UNKNOWN!!!
 
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I sometimes venture outside with my Bodyguard/ Shampoo Artist. I drag myself out of my swanky hotel room to attend 60's chicks' gigs in the sticks. Once there, after posing for my international fans and signing the performing artists' records, I'm ready to go back to the hotel. But inexplicably I find myself on a bench outside the joint having a beer with Albert, the senior roadie. He has some stories! Andro (my android) always encourages me to discreetly record them for my next Autobio. On such outings, wild as the evening might get (sometimes I mingle with the crowd for as long as 7 minutes! And then Andro puts up the oxygen tent, and it feels quite like we're camping), I remember the whole world is watching me, so I try to make the evening meaningful by choosing a tshirt with a message. This week for instance, I'm wearing one that says "Bibi Blows."
not bad for a dog.
Morrissey does exactly the same thing, except he doesn't have that Tshirt. He has a couple of tshirts that denounce evol dictatomofockers, but not one that says "Nathanyahu is shit". Or else it's in the wash.

The trouble is, as he's the John Lennon of Our Times, people expect him to have a position. So when he wears a Jobriath tshirt, people point and ask, "Hey! Morrissey! Is that the President who kills thousands of civilians, including little children?" And then he's brought back to awful earth, awful violent reality. There's no escaping the truth anymore. He has to face the terrible, inhuman facts:
Nah. Reality is overrated. That’s why we (& you) are here.
...Jobriath is still largely UNKNOWN!!!

only to the unknowing.
 
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