A sure sign I'm getting old manifested itself the other day.
I
was chatting with the parents of my godson and quite happily following
things when suddenly a reference to Iron Men came up. I thought I was
being hip & trendy and nodded knowingly when they mentioned the
Liverpool exhibition.
I
naturally assumed a Marvel-Comic's-type display showing the genesis of
the superheroes etc. I must confess I wasn't that enamoured about
traipsing around a 2nd-tier city showcase hall over Halloween to see
cardboard cutouts of vamps & electrifiers - but being a godfather
has its downsides I suppose.
Ah,
they were talking about the cast-iron statues imposingly studded on the
beach at Crosby by the renowned sculpter
(http://www.sefton.gov.uk/default.aspx?page=6216 ) Antony Gormley.
Relieved at the prospect of something more high-brow and delfated at not being as hip as I thought I was, I agreed to accompany them all.
We zoomed down the shore to see the tide fully in, lapping happily against the promenade wall.
Almanacs do sometimes come in handy - if only my friends had bothered to consult one...
So
we went into town, did some shopping and came back later in the
afternoon - bought a 99 flake ice cream, poured red & green sauce
over it - and finally gazed into the setting sun glinting off these
rather amazing iron figurines standing motionless in the Crosby sands.
Quite a sight...even if embarrassment was a side-journey getting there.
