Micky is a punk rocker . . . well, he used to be.  However, now that he’s older, wiser and more mature he’s found himself turning into a vest-wearing peeping Tom.  Not that there’s any embarrassment or shame in what he’s become, oh no.  Peeping’s fun, apparently.  Slightly creepy, but a lot of fun. Flanagan’s routine is based around how he got to this stage in his life.  It’s no bigger or cleverer than that, but it doesn’t need to be.  He has enough presence and enough good material to simply stand and blabber for an hour.  He discusses the generation gap to great effect after spotting some of the hairstyles adorning the heads of younger members of the audience.  But for most of the time it’s a meandering wander through his middle ages. Young and old alike seemed to warm to him and our little tin box reverberated with laughter for the full 60 minutes. ****