THERE'S nothing like a few shared memories to get everyone talking.

Iwas among the hundreds who toured Brighton's Dome on Saturday at the launch of the appeal to raise the final £1 million for its major revamp.

It was the last chance most people will have for a good look around before the buildings are closed and work gets under way.

It was also the first chance some people had to find out what will be going on there.

But most of all it was a chance for all sorts of people to relive their memories of the place - and you couldn't stop the chins wagging.

Everyone talked about the performances they'd seen and a number recounted their own appearances on the stage there.

For some, it was not about who they had gone to see but more who they had met there, ranging from bands they'd begged souvenirs from to couples who first set eyes on each other there.

All the fond anecdotes really helped kick off the appeal as people all around the place signed up to become founders.

I've got lots of my own memories of the complex. Shows good and bad, the stiff neck I once suffered after being stuck behind a pillar and the explosive evenings in the auditorium on election nights.

As I walked around on the behind-the-scenes tour I thought my strongest memory of the place was appearing on stage dancing the cancan.

Then I remembered a life-changing, although far from artistic, performance in the Pavilion Theatre.

I'd always wanted to be a ballerina. Then, when I was about eight, I decided I'd better have another string to my bow so I carefully set out a career plan along the lines of becoming a ballet dancing midwife.

My heart was set on it - until a visit to the Pavilion to watch my mum give blood. As I stood talking to the nurse about how I planned to juggle my dancing with helping babies into the world I started to feel a bit strange.

The walls closed in, the floor started to rise and the next minute I was out cold.

It was the end of a dream. If the sight of blood could do that to me, my hopes of becoming the country's first 'ballmidwiferina' were over.

From that moment I decided I wanted to be a journalist, and I've wanted to be one ever since.

AT LAST, we finally have a work of art on the seafront to be proud of.

Ihated that rusting metal lump that resembles a skateboard ramp from the moment it appeared last year. I thought it might grow on me but time has not made my feelings any fonder.

Then there's the doughnut, and the less said about that the better.

Now we've got the stone men, a collection of larger-than-life figures created from pebbles.

They're fun, attractive and original - just the sort of art that reflects what the town is all about.

The only problem is, unlike the other seafront exhibits they're only there until May.

Iknow which I would rather keep.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.