Sir Tom Jones. Is there absolutely anything more knee trembling, Welsh and totally awesome as the legend who epitomises, encapsulates and encompasses the very essence of the green green grass of home. Sigh.
Yes, there’s a strong chance Sir Tom is a god, but then he’s Welsh, as am I and we’re both enigmas to those who are not born and bred.
Last weekend five friends and I hot footed it to the London Hilton and Greenwich Music Time for my hen weekend. We were warned of biblical rain storms, cancelled trains and a postponed concert. Sir Tom has been cancelling concerts because of a respiratory infection and the odds were against us pulling it off.
But the rain held off, we drank 42% proof Da Mhile Welsh seaweed gin (Supreme Champion at this year’s Royal Welsh Show) and Sir Tom was jaw droppingly brilliant. My English and Dutch friends are now Sir Tom converts and in awe and envious of the rush of goosebumps raised by the crowd’s chorus of Delilah and the ‘by 'ere, by year, by ear’ lesson Sir Tom shared with them.
The Welsh Flag was absolutely everywhere. Not just a few flags, oceans of flags and they fluttered and flew while Sir Tom sang and all was well and wonderful with the world. I proudly draped my flag over my shoulders, fetchingly matched with the t-shirts I had designed for the occasion, the glory pants we produce here at RDM and the twinkly tiara and pink satin sash saying 'Jo 4 Tom forever’ and everyone smiled and cheered and congratulated. Everyone smiled because they felt the love.
The fierce pride and love of the Welsh, the love for the flag and the love for Sir Tom.