It's less than three days now until Lisa and I go on holiday, so with immaculate timing we've both started developing sore throats and coughs. I'm aiming to be in the grip of flu by this time on Friday so that I can claim a free nurse for the flight to America. There has to be some kind of reward for taking out travel insurance, and I could do with someone medically trained to plump my pillows on the way over there. (Do you get pillows in economy?)

Anyhoo, we didn't let our physical ailments stop us going to see Paul Weller last night, though we did arrive late and miss the support act, due to me being stuck here cleaning Lisa's boots, in a scene reminiscent of Cinderella. (And ironically I do have an ugly sister). I was offered a choice of holiday-related tasks, but the other one involved make-up brushes, and I do have my male pride to consider, so I went for the boot polishing job.

Having completed the task to my master's satisfaction (whilst listening to Lisa's tape of The Jam's Greatest Hits, in an effort to educate me for the evening ahead), I was allowed to take the pumpkin to the Brighton Centre, where we arrived just in time to hear Nic Armstrong & the Thieves say "Thank you and good night" and disappear off the stage. So when they hit the big time in a couple of months, we can proudly say that we saw them first. For about twenty seconds.

Paul Weller took to the stage at 8:45pm and played for a good two hours (I thought it would never end. But I mean that in a good way). From our vantage point I thought he looked a bit like an aging Phil Tufnell. With slightly more drug use. Talking of aging, I did get the impression that most of the audience were so old that they had dodgy bladders. There was a constant stream of people popping out to the toilet throughout the entire concert. The woman in the row in front of us went out twice. I don't mean to be critical, but if you've paid a fortune to see one of your musical heroes, at least go to the toilet before you sit down.

But anyway. I can't say I was blown away by Mr Weller's songs, but he certainly wasn't bad, and I tapped my toe through most of the evening, and even sang along to 'That's Entertainment'. So overall, I approve of the man. He's no Steve Brookstein, but with a bit of work he could get there in the end.