At Rockford, Illinois, we ran into a really nasty patch of weather, and fought our way to the concert hall through a blizzard. Our conductor took a little longer, but wasn't seriously late. Coming in at the side of the old-fashioned stage, he took off coat and scarf in the wings, walked straight to the podium at his usual funereal pace amid great enthusiasm from his expectant audience, picked up the baton which was awaiting him on the leader's stand, and conducted Berlioz's 'Roman Carnival' overture, as usual, by memory. It went with a tremendous impetus, as always, but from my position dead in front of the podium I could see there was something puzzling Sir Thomas. He kept glancing at his feet, and finally he gave a wry look in the direction of David McCallum, nodded downwards and shrugged. As he walked off during the applause we could see what was causing his amusement. He had determinedly kept his feet warm in the car, and was still wearing a loud-patterned pair of tartan carpet slippers. They went very well with his 'tails' but I noticed he changed them for patent leather evening shoes before the symphony... << less