Is it a bird..... is it a plane...

no, it's the ruddy generation gap again...... as I feel my pet straight white hair curling with embarrassement. I desparately try to re-organise the horrified cast of my face to something more amenable, while Liz gushes on about how great her Dad looks in his Phantom costume. It's the description of the red silk lined cape that finally allows me to shut my gaping mouth, banishing totally unncessary images of a parent prancing about in purple tights with his underwear on the outside, throwing 'biff' and 'pow' punches, branding the milkman with his trademark skull and crossbones. The mournful lament of the Opera a far cry from the jungles of Denkali that occupy my mind....and mine alone.