I was scheduled to leave Göteburg on Sunday around lunch time.  The morning was sunny and mild.  I decided to stroll back to Scandinavium.  For surely it had been somehow altered by having hosted this event.

    When in Brighton once, I had quietly touched the bricks of The Dome, with every expectation of feeling some faint special vibration of ABBA history.  But it hadn't worked out; all I found were cold bricks.

    The ticket office didn't open until 2:00pm, and the main doors were locked up tight.  The modern electronic sign out front was pumping its various commercial messages.  All was relatively quiet.

    I wondered around to the stage exit, where only 12 hours before Stephen and I had met the Glenmarks.  The large automatic doors were drawn shut, but the reception door was unlocked, and I elected to sneak in.

    The sound crew, which had been from Stockholm, had worked through the night.  The stage, the parkett level seats, the black drapes, the A's and B's were all gone.  In the clear light of the morning after, Scandinavium was being cooly configured for this afternoon's hockey game, the ice already well formed.  Where I had sat on two of the best evenings of my life was now, more or less, in the vicinity of the blue line.

    My heart sank.  Far from being magically marked by the event, at Scandinavium ABBA were seemingly forgotten yet again.

    Though not to me.  Never to me.  I believe I will remember always these two glorious evenings when the music of B & B, and especially the ABBA portions, rocked the house.
 

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Early returns on the October concerts in Stockholm