For my Dad’s birthday we went to see Les Miserable’s in London, walking in we were in jeans and t-shirt and got given some funny looks by others who had dressed up for the occasion, it felt like there was a class divide, between those who frequent venues like the Queen’s Theater, and those that go there for a treat.

But during the interval the story and the music had brought us together, we were all part of the story and we were all in it together, upper class and lower class mixed. In the que for the ice creams my dad and a stranger were talking like old friends, this was the seventh time the stranger had seen Les Miserables. When we went to get back into our row the stranger on the end joked that we’d have to pay to get to our seats, my Dad said he’d sit on him and the man’s only complaint was “I won’t be able to see!” whereas if he’d said that an hour before he would have been met with a hostile stare.

Music has more power than we realize half the time…

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