Many, many years ago, before my mum would let me go to a rock concert, Tina Turner had a gig in Floriana. That was 1990.

I was not there. But people came back from that concert saying she put on a great show. And that Michael Frendo, then culture Minister, went up on stage to greet the star and let some of her dust rub off him. There was much facepalming about politicians butting in when people just want to have fun.

Eventually we’d grow up a bit more and I’d be allowed to go to a rock concert and politicians would keep to their place 6th row from the front.

I wasn’t there at Anastacia’s concert yesterday so I’m relying on reports of people who were. She put on a good show and no Minister went on stage. But somehow folded in her script was a shout out to our great leaders the prime minister and one of his deputies.

She was, apparently, grateful to them for having been allowed to perform here.

I don’t know what memo they gave you, Ms Anastacia, but here you don’t need the prime minister’s permission to sing in public. Though he does appear to think you do.

There apparently was some enthusiastic cheering for this piece of iron curtain obsequiousness though a few simmered on the sides with more than a little embarrassment.

You know how it’s not really done to go on stage in the United States and thank Donald Trump for letting you sing in a concert? We would have liked to think we got to a stage where things would work the same here. We did for a while.