As we say farewell to May 2009, I'll be remembering to say 'white rabbit' three times in the morning for good luck and 'black cat' tonight to see the month out.
The month has been a diverse one for stories and subjects. I started with superstitions because of my propensity to be rather superstitious and I enjoyed the research to find the real stories behind why I do things - and now I can understand why I do these little ritualistic responses to certain events.
Next came a spooky tale about a visit to an old church and unfinished mysteries to be discovered I suspect. I then extolled the virtue of the East Riding of Yorkshire and places to visit followed by a sad obituary to an old friend, Common Sense who died recently. The cricketer Graham Onions prompted me to write about surnames and those odd one's I had come into contact with over the years and then we had a giggle day with some jokes and stories as well as exploring the funnier side of the difference between the sexes.
After a quick one paragraph rant about MPs expenses, I chatted about memories of my old Dansette record player and my taste in music (or not) when I was a kid. 'Enigma' was a thought piece about Derren Brown after seeing his mind bending show of that name at the Grimsby Auditorium followed by my recall of seeing old style comics on stage in the East Yorkshire area after the news that Ken Dodd had been cancelled for a show in Nottingham.
Picking up my son after university was my next story and filling my modest car to its full capacity (and more) with his stuff that his mother did not know he had. I then decided to do a list, something I had neglected for a while and exposed some myths and put forward some real facts such as: 'You have NO muscles in your fingers - fingers use tendons.'
Another spooky tale came along with my experience of 'the Traveller,' in Tale of the Unexpected 2 - still shivering from that one! And then a more sanguine blog about gardening in the glorious May weather. 'Menagerie' was a mix of different bits and pieces I needed to get off my chest and 'Number 29' was a memory tester of a childhood home, its garden and my maternal grandfather. Yesterday I described a meditation exercise for anyone who needs to relax; and today? You've just read it!
Happy June!
Here's a quick list of my favourite gaff-maker's finest work, courtesy of course, of Samuel Goldwyn.
They say it's not as bad as they say it is.
It's spreading like wildflowers.
We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it.
Gentlemen, include me out.
I'll give you a definite maybe.
I can answer in two words: im-possible.
Directors are always biting the hand that lays the golden egg.
Courtesy - The Funniest Thing You Never Said - Rosemarie Jarski
As May comes to a close in glorious bright spring technicolour, it's time to take stock and if you remember I said I would look at meditation and give you a simple start to the art, and I'll begin with meditation to relax. Meditation isn't mumbo-jumbo, nor is it dangerous, perhaps it could make you nod off until you get used to it which is why you should never attempt this when you are driving or operating machinery because you can also meditate with your eyes open.
What is meditation? I'm not an expert and I've learned my techniques from friends and experience and from my inspirers Shirley Ann and Barry, but one thing it is not and that is clearing the mind. You can't do it - it's impossible, so I try to channel the thoughts that I have into an all round pleasant experience. Your mind will wander, no doubt about it, but as you persist, it will get easier to concentrate on keeping your mind focused and put to one side the stresses and trauma of the day. You will come out of the meditation refreshed and if you do it late at night when the house is dark and quiet, you can nip off to bed when it's complete and hopefully sleep well.
You can do this at any time of the day or night. The first thing is make sure that you cannot be interrupted. Unplug the phone, give the dog a bone and sent it to another part of the house, switch your mobile off and if there is anyone else in the house - tell them what you are doing and stick a note on the door; DO NOT DISTURB!
Choose some music. Soft music, not strident and no singing unless it's something like Gregorian Chants type music. It should last about half an hour or so at most - something instrumental and easy listening is fine. Put it on low as a background noise.
Loosen the clothing - try to undo the belt gents, and ladies, a dressing gown is good or loose dress. Now find somewhere to sit. Now I prefer a hard backed dining type chair where I sit upright with my feet firmly on the floor - it helps me not to nod off, but for now, if you have a favourite comfy chair, that's fine. Your hands and arms need to relax so put your hands in your lap or rest them on the chair arm. If you want to hold something in your hand, like a favourite old ring or a flower or a token from the past, please do so.
The important thing to remember is that you shouldn't stop a meditation and suddenly get up and rush around the room, if you do, because your body is so relaxed, you could feel dizzy, so take your time to make sure you are fully aware of what's happening around you before you start to move around. The same applies at the end of your meditation.
Try to ignore noises like traffic or someone walking around upstairs or sneezing - make it part of your imaginary journey. Stay calm, do not get angry or frustrated.
If you are ready, then let's begin.
Close your eyes and wait a few seconds until you feel comfortable with your eyes closed. If at anytime you are worried or think there's someone around, you can open them briefly.
1 Take three deep breaths. Take your time. Every time you breathe out, feel your body relax and your muscles loosen their tension.
2 When you've taken your three breaths, concentrate on breathing steadily and reasonably slowly. When you breathe, concentrate on your stomach muscles relaxing and moving in and out as you breathe.
3 I want you now to imagine your favourite colour. It can be anything you like but make it a bright and cheerful colour. Imagine a blanket made of that colour, that bright light and imagine wrapping it around yourself, cover yourself fully with its protective and healing light. Imagine pulling it over your head, wrapping it round your body even under your feet until you are fully surrounded by this blanket of beautiful light.
4 Return to your breathing and start to relax even more every time you breathe out. Feel your shoulders dropping, your facial muscles relaxing (you might have a gormless look on your face - it doesn't matter - no one else is around). Your fingers totally relax and every time you breathe out, relax even more, down and down.
5 Imagine now your favourite place, perhaps from childhood or some time ago. It can be indoors or outside. This is your safe place. It is a place you enjoyed and have happy memories, and any time you feel sad or lonely or vulnerable, you can meditate and return here. Look around you - what is in your favourite place? Are there objects on the table or shelves, can you remember what was in the drawers; what colour was the carpet; if you are outside is the grass green, what flowers were in this place, is the lake placid and calm - look for some details. You might even remember a favourite person, someone from your past in that place. Remember the smells, sights, sounds and feelings. You can spend a few minutes here. Once you've done that it's time for a journey.
6 It doesn't matter if you are not very able or fit, this is a journey in the mind, there are no barriers. You can go anywhere you like, but for now, let me take you to a really nice place and on the way, try to imagine some detail of the place that surrounds you as we walk along.
7 The day is warm and there are fair weather clouds above. We are walking along a grass field with insects wafting gently in the breeze highlighted in the sunlight. There are wild flowers scattered in the ground and the sun is warm on your back. In the distance in front of you are some hills, green and dappled in sunlight and a few yards away a hedge with a stile in it.
8 You climb over the stile and begin to walk up the hill - up a gentle incline and remember you will never be out of breath no matter how steep it gets. Sky Larks twitter high above your head - concentrate on their distant warbling. A rabbit feeds on the grass nearby and in the next field behind a dry stone wall are sheep lazily chomping on grass.
9 You come to a path and the path leads you to a 'chocolate box' cottage with white walls, rambling roses and multi-coloured bright flowers in a small garden. As you approach the door, you notice it is slightly ajar and the door opens as if to welcome you in. As you walk in, there is a highly polished floor and a three piece suite with a floral pattern to it and against one wall a roaring fire sparks up the chimney.
10. You sit in the chair near the fire and look around you. Spend a few minutes doing this. There may be books in a bookcase - notice their bindings and colour; are there flowers on the table which is covered with a crocheted table cloth - a re there other objects. There may be a piano with picture frames showing people from long ago, some you may recall. Is there an animal dozing in a chair, a cat or a dog perhaps - you might even recognize it?
11 Put some detail of this lovely cottage in your mind, the smell of pine logs on the fire or baking of fresh bread from the kitchen. Out of the window, what can you see in the garden? Perhaps you might want to go and wander round the borders and smell the flowers. Can you smell your favourite rose or herbs; actually try to imagine the smell. Stay here a few minutes.
12 You have a last look around after soaking up the atmosphere and we begin our journey back. Down the path, down the gentle hill - easier walking this time, down the hill and over the stile and into the grass field and finally into your favourite place - your safe place. Has anything changed? Are there new objects or has the scene changed completely?
13 Become aware of the seat you are sitting on. Feel the clothes you have on against your skin. Stretch your fingers, wiggle your toes and when you are ready - don't rush this - open your eyes.
14 Sit still for a few moments, become accustomed to what you see around you before moving. If you come round too quick, you might experience a slight headache. If you do close your eyes again and breath deeply for three breaths. Take a drink of water or a soft drink and you should be fine.
Did you nod off? Well that's okay because clearly you needed the sleep to refresh your body and mind and sleeping is excellent relaxation. As you get used to meditation, you find yourself nodding off less and less.
How do you remember all this? Well don't worry if you miss something out or you get it all done in ten minutes, as long as you discipline your mind to the detail you are imagining, you will be fine. During your meditation, if the thought comes into your head that you have to go shopping, or you think about the fall out you had with your spouse earlier or 'how I am going to pay the bill', then think very clearly and if you want to, say it out loud, "I don't want to think about that," and think hard back to your journey and think about the detail of the journey.
The same applies if something unpleasant or nasty pops into your head. Just think hard and say out loud, "I don't want to think about that - go away," and watch it shrink away against your strength of character.
Don't forget, you can journey where ever you like. If you don't like open spaces, walk around inside a large building with corridors and rooms. If you like water, walk along a river. You don't have to make it all up, you might decide to journey somewhere you've been before and enjoyed; your imagination can take you to a new world of your own creation because you can put whatever pleasing detail you like into your imaginary world, whether its a scene you know or you've just made it up.
I hope that's been useful... enjoy and let me know how you've got on.
This must be the first weekend since perhaps this time last year where I can honestly say I have nothing planned, perhaps cutting the grass and that's it. I have pondered about sitting out, and enjoying the sun sheltered from the breeze and maybe listening to the FA Cup Final on the radio whilst enjoying the fresh air. Food has been bought in for the weekend and the car is already nice and clean. My wife has done the housework because she's been off this week and there's no washing and drying to do.
"A husband is what is left of the lover after the nerve has been extracted." Helen Rowland.
So, this is a time perhaps I like most, taking the opportunity to relax, recharge the batteries, read, meditate and just chill out. Lazy? No I think I'm entitled now and then. One none energetic thing I will be doing is testing my memory again in meditation looking back to childhood, remembering smells, events, sounds, feelings, sights, people, home and whatever else comes to mind. My friend Shirley Ann says that most memory survives and is locked away somewhere and I guess that meditation really does allow recall to become easier and is certainly remarkably so in my case.
The large Victorian house - 'number 29' as the family remember it had surprisingly small gardens. The front was perhaps only eight feet deep, concreted with a small bird bath in the centre surrounded by four standard roses in neat square holes in the grey utility ground. London pride and cotoneaster grew on the edges and the low wall with sandstone top was convenient to sit upon and chat to whoever was around. The iron railings which must have once stood proud on the wall had clearly been taken during the war years to help with the effort against the enemy and surely built spitfires or tanks.
Mr Western lived next door, a former war hero who sadly decayed into dementia and alcoholism in his dotage. His back garden was untended and knee deep in nettles, always an unpleasant experience when trying to retrieve one's tennis or cricket ball. The back gardens were shallow too, perhaps twenty feet at most with borders made of sandy soil, made gritty over the years through dumping ash from the many fires in the house in the garden. A small home made concrete fish pond stood lonely in the corner of the garden with a lily that was too big for it and indeed dangerous for goldfish because my father, a fisherman had once brought home a pike he had caught in a plastic bag that he thought was dead with a view to feeding the cat, Thomas. The pike miraculously had survived the journey and refused to die and lived out its life in the pond for several years, feeding on goldfish and goodness knows what else - stray curious cats and birds landing on the lily pads to drink I suspect.
Although there was a toilet and separate bathroom in the house with a huge zinc bath, there was also an 'outhouse' and coal house next to it. The toilet had to have a little Kelly lamp lit in the winter to stop the water freezing. The coal house had coal and coke for different fires which for some reason were peculiar for what they would or wouldn't burn. The back garden was too small to play ball games in and friends and I would play cricket and football in the back ten-foot (because it was ten-foot wide) using Mr Kirkness's garage door as a goal or wicket.
This is the first and probably the last picture you will ever see of me, and that's as a young boy, seven or eight years old, proudly stood in the back garden of 'number 29' with Grandfather, a blind World War 1 veteran with one leg, the other having been shot off in the trenches. Spiritually, I know he's still around my family today even though we have moved many miles away; spirits have no sense of distance! A great background detail is Mr Western's 'outhouse' and coal house!
"Instead of getting married again, I'm going to find a woman I don't like and just give her a house!" Rod Stewart, musician.
Menagerie... in the context of this blog, 'a diverse or miscellaneous group'. So much to say, so little time to write blog - indeed, it's gone 10 pm and I should be in bed.
But, dear blogger friends some good news to impart about the diet. I hadn't forgotten to update you, but if you remember I am only getting weighed once per month and Tuesday was the day. My belt is getting smaller, my trousers baggier and there is a gap appearing around my collar making my shirts just loose enough for me to button the collar for the first time in many a good year.
Well I did it again, I lost 4.9 Kg or 10.75 pounds in four weeks. That makes, in total, a loss in three months of three stone one pound. Low fat (as few saturated fats as possible) is doing the trick, plenty of fluids and walking. My wife who is also doing the diet has lost 14 pounds in the same period.
Work is busy and I have just had a promotion which is good news in this economic climate, but the price to be paid is a lot more responsibility and staff to supervise which I thought I had left behind some three years ago. But I like the challenge and having supportive, intelligent and 'can-do' line managers helps drive the job ever forward. One of my valued work colleagues and friend has moved to another department and although his move is temporary, I suspect it will become permanent as he such a professional and will make excellent headway in a difficult role. One of my line managers is retiring shortly after exceptional service and he will be sorely missed, but I am very lucky as a human being to count him as a friend and I will follow his retirement and the exciting plans he has with a lot of interest - more on that when he goes in July.
A blogger friend Magnumlady who lives in Sligo, Ireland has complained that while we were having glorious sun last Bank Holiday weekend, she was having drenching rain and her latest lovely picture shows a flower, perhaps an iris, covered in rain. Well news for you Val, its been raining here and temperatures have dropped dramatically and a cooler breeze has set in for the time being - a bit of a shock, but a nice weekend is forecast - I'll order some sun for you.
My psychic work took a turn for the better this week with an excellent psychic circle and clearer contact with the world of spirit than I've had for a while, it made it all worthwhile. Psychic ability, skill or gift, whichever you prefer to call it goes in peaks and troughs - good weeks, bad weeks and indifferent weeks and I suspect it very much depends on how you feel, what your attitude is, how calm and relaxed you are and what meditation and practise you do.
Well that's about it for tonight. Having watched Manchester United get turned over in Rome by Barcelona (they just didn't turn up!) on very poor quality ITV coverage and helped my middle son write some letters to cancel all his bills now he's moved out of his student flat, I am now going for a meditation while listening to some very soothing Gregorian Chants in the background. I think this weekend, I'll post some details about the way I do meditation (from a very good teacher) and see what you think to having a go to relax the mind and body yourself.
"I want to be young and wild; and then I want to be middle aged and rich; and then I want to be old and annoy people by pretending I'm deaf." Rowan Atkinson, Blackadder
What a fabulous day. I have no idea what the temperature has been, but there's been no breeze to speak of and the sky has not seen a cloud all day. Simply glorious.
Most of the bedding plants have gone in today, some in the border and some in tubs and this year, for the first time I've had to put slug pellets down. We have loads of birds in the garden of every description and for the thirteen years we've been here, we've never had a problem because the blackies and thrushes go hunting for the little slimy buggers, that was until last year when all the hostas were left like skeletons after an invasion of slugs and snails. Anyway for all you slug and snail lovers, it says on the tin that the slug pellets are organic, it means it kills them kindly!
Gardening question: If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?
Ceanothus
Early summer flowers are here in force, the weigela are nearly in full bloom and the ceanothus is bright blue, taking over from the clematis montana that has just finished. The bearded irises are almost ready to come out and the hostas are in full leaf and with several varieties, I have a nice mixed green display. I have a nice tan and despite the midges, never got bitten once.
Tomorrow it's time just to sit and enjoy. It's a nice place to meditate and the birds singing help me to drift off and exercise the spiritual mind.The Met Officer weather warning for heavy thundery rain on Monday afternoon moving up from the south means a morning sun and meditation session.
Hull City have retained their place in the Premiership for next season by the skin of their teeth and hopefully they will be spending some brass on players that can stick the ball in the back of the net. Well done the Tigers.
How about a gardening story today?
A man went into the local flower shop. The assistant politely enquired, "Is there anything I can get for you sir?" The man hesitantly replied, "Well I... erm.. I don't really know what to... erm... I..." The assistant helpfully said, "Perhaps I can assist; tell me exactly what you've done."
During my Saturday evening hike walking through pleasant hills and dales in the countryside of the north, I had spectacularly misjudged the time it was going to take me between the pub I had my lunch at and the B & B in a small rural village I had booked on the Internet. Looking back, perhaps I had imbibed just one extra for the road which isn't a good idea normally for a walker with a few miles in front of him, but the beer was cool, tasty and golden.
The last vestiges of light were showing to the west and stars were just starting to twinkle in this place where no light pollution barred the delights of the heavens. A full moon, low and large in the sky showed it's mournful face. The day, if you remember was warm, the first dry day for a while and the air was still and smelled slightly damp.I decided that as the forecast was fair, I would sleep al fresco overnight and was looking for a suitable spot, an old barn or a derelict shepherd's hut often found dotted around these lonely roads.
Surprisingly, the tarmacadam road, although narrow and wide enough just for one car, became cobbled. My walking boots slid easily across the smooth well worn stones. Ahead I saw a cottage on my right. As I got closer, I noticed it was covered in ivy and the front garden which was about three foot deep was overgrown with what remained of cottage plants, hollyhocks, roses, lupins and others I couldn't identify.
The windows were dark and I knocked on the door and the hollow sound of my knock thundered through the cottage but there was no response. I looked around the back garden which was full of sapling trees, seeded over years of neglect but the doors were firmly shut. The moonlight cast a half light about the place creating dark shadows here and there and I felt slightly uncomfortable, as if being watched, but then I was tired and the place was unfamiliar to me. I walked back onto the road and opposite the cottage I spied an old bench on the other side of the cobbles facing the ivy clad cottage. Like all good hikers, I came prepared and settled down in my sleeping bag on the solid if somewhat elderly bench, resting, I imagined, like many before me.
Uneasily, I began to nod off when I heard loud knocking. Startled, I raised myself on my elbow and as I looked toward the cottage, there was a man stood at the door. He knocked at the moonlit door and I heard him ask firmly, "Is anybody there?"
I suddenly noticed that just a few yards along the road was a horse, tethered to the fence and it was eating the grass on the verge; yet despite the stillness, I could not hear it chomp. A startled bird flew out of the ivy above the man's head and frightened me for an instant, but it seemed not to bother him. He was strangely dressed in what looked like a brown coat with long tails and a brown waistcoat. He wore a white silk cravat around his neck, almost flourescent in the moonlight. His trousers were like cords and he had riding boots, shining and highly polished in the moons silvery glow. On his head was the strangest thing, it looked like a tricolour hat, three corners and black - how bizarre. He hammered on the door again, "Is anybody there?" Louder this time.
No one answered and I was dumb struck, I couldn't move. I wanted to tell him that no-one was in, but he stood still, listening. The silence was overwhelming and I daren't intervene. Nothing was there to listen to the sound of man in the dead of night, and yet, I imagined a thousand eyes upon him from the windows, a hundred ears listening quietly from the dark empty interior.
The horse moved and I jumped again. This time the man, (I'll call him the Traveller because of his mode of transport), banged on the door even louder with his clenched fist and almost shouted, "Tell them I came, and no-one answered, that I kept my word." I thought I heard the echo of his emotional and fatalistic sounding voice through the cottage and then once more silence descended and what I was watching was, for a fleeting moment, captured like a photograph: still and silent, but no camera could capture the melancholy of the scene before me.
I fumbled for my digital camera and took a picture but even though the flash lit the scene and highlighted the face of the man in his early thirties, with a handsome and weathered face, he batted not an eyelid as he put his foot in the stirrup and rode away and the sound of iron on the cobbles faded away as he rode off into the enveloping darkness.
Silence reigned once more and I nervously packed my bag and hurriedly left the area in the pitch black with just a small torch and moonlight to guide me. Eventually, out of breath, I came to an old pub a few miles down the road where I obtained shelter for the night and settled into a warm soft bed but not before I had partaken of a neat scotch with the landlord to settle my nerves.
Over a hot chocolate in my attic bedroom, I looked on the map for the name of the cottage on the cobbled road and although I had the latest edition of the Ordnance Survey for the area, I could find no cottage and no imprint of a road, any road on the map - cobbled or otherwise. I scoured the map until the early hours of the morning and could find no trace of the ivy covered cottage.
I looked at the one photograph I took of the Traveller as I had lain on the bench transfixed by that haunting scene. I had seen his face through the viewfinder brightly lit by the flash at the time I took the photograph. The photograph dear blogger, shows the old cottage with slate roof and mature creeping ivy; but... no Traveller.
Chat soon
Ta-ra.
With thanks to Walter de la Mare for his inspiration. Story and picture intellectual property of Rarelesserspotted.
It's a while since I did a 'list' and I've been reading a fascinating book written by the QI team of John Lloyd and John Mitchinson, the Book of General Ignorance. For want of a better expression, they explode some popular myths which is really interesting in a yawn inducing kind of way, but the real facts do allow you to say to your mate in the pub, 'actually you are quite wrong there, the reality is...' and this can help you sound like a real smart arse.So here we go with just a handful of the 'real facts list':
You have FOUR nostrils, not two - two you can see and two you can't;
The driest place on earth is Antarctica (no rain in parts for two million years);
How many wives did Henry VIII have? - Four NOT six. The marriage to Anne of Cleeve was annulled which means it never took place and the marriage to Anne Boleyn was illegal because Henry was still married to Catherine of Aragon;
Where was Baseball invented? England in 1744 - then called base ball;
What do we use to write on a blackboard? Gypsum (NOT chalk) which is calcium sulphate;
The equals sign, = comes from Wales first introduced and used by Robert Recorde in 1557;
The chicken is the commonest bird in the world with about 52 billion of our very useful feathered friends around;
You have NO muscles in your fingers - fingers use tendons;
The longest animal is not the blue whale, but the boot lace worm, Lineus Longissimus which reaches lengths of 60 metres;
Statistically, Monday 27th is the unluckiest date, NOT Friday 13th.
And here's one for all you fervent nationalists around, the Duke of Wellington, (who did NOT invent Wellington boots) was Irish, born in Dublin in 1769.
And today's story: A man went to his doctor and told him he thought he was going deaf. "What are the symptoms?" the Doctor asked.
The man replied, "A yellow cartoon family and the mother has large blue hair."
(The picture at the top is a 30 second exposure shot with camera on a tripod during a thunderstorm in East Yorkshire, if you click on it to enlarge you will see a brave bird flying at night. The lightening flashes are both spectacular and intricate.)
Wow - a whole working week without posting a blog - life has been so busy I don't know where time has gone. I had the whole week free on a night time but that soon went Pete Tong as demands on my time became more intense - so much for relaxing. My middle lad has finished his university degree course reading archaeology and I went to Nottingham to pick him up after work last night. I had a director's meeting and I set off around 7.30 pm and arrived in Nottingham around nine.
Eric: "When it came to education, my father wanted me to have all the opportunities he never had." Ernie: "So what did he do?" Eric: "He sent me to a girl's school." Morecambe and Wise, 1979.
My son had already been back home at Easter and had allegedly brought most of his stuff back home then according to his mother and this trip would be a couple of boxes and Bob's your uncle. WRONG!
After a whole hour loading my modest estate car, full to the gunnels with stuff jammed in to nooks and crevices all over, I had to move my seat so far forward that I was virtually touching the wheel with my chest. That was fine except when I got back home after midnight, I struggled to get out of the car! Anyway - welcome home son - good to have you back!
I've given up one of my football interests with regret because I need to spend more time at home with my long suffering wife and family and spend more time with my spiritual work. My mother says that since she retired, she has never been so busy - she raises cash for charity by fund raising, cooking and selling pies and cakes, and all sorts of other activities which is commendable; sometimes, I wish she would just slow down but she's happy and dad, who spends his time playing snooker a couple of times a week, fishing, reading and gardening is comfortable that she's kept occupied.
Computers are the problem along with television. PCs can be so convenient to do work on but they can do so much these days that you do more of course. Television is just a pain in the proverbial and takes over life in the home sometimes, not that I watch it a lot, it drives me mad that there are so many programmes that my wife records then has to watch during her spare time that I just don't see much of her. It's all the CSI's and stuff like that from America; the Apprentice; Trawlers Rigs and Rescue or something like that and all the rest. If I could unsubscribe tomorrow, I would. Give me a book anytime.
Well the long weekend is here, Whit holiday in England and Wales and hey presto! the forecast is good for a change - so a bit of quick and dirty gardening, wash the car and sit out, read and enjoy is the order for the next three days - until someone says - 'can you just...'
Quote of the day: Behind every successful man stands an amazed woman. Anon
I wonder what on earth possessed the Nottingham Royal Concert Hall management to call off the Ken Dodd show after just a few people had said that Ken was no longer funny enough for 2009. I know he may be getting on, but there's no doubt he provides excellent value for money often performing until the early hours of the morning.
I am fortunate enough to have seen Ken Dodd twice, once at the Futurist Theatre in Scarborough 25 years ago and again about 10 years ago at the Bridlington Spa Theatre and I have to say he was damn funny both times and his act had changed substantially over the years. If you've ever seen 'An Audience with Ken Dodd' from the ITV production, that about sums up this great man's career: well respected, funny and topical. The last time I saw him at Bridlington, my three children, all in their teens fell asleep and we carried them out of the theatre about midnight and Ken had by no means finished.
Les Dawson was another favourite and again I saw him in Bridlington on his comedy stage show and at the Hull New Theatre in a Ray Clooney farce, 'Run for your Wife' in which he showed how good he was at stage acting. He sadly died soon after.
I only saw Tommy Cooper once, again at Bridlington Spa. Even before the big man started to speak, just standing at the microphone gave the audience hysterics. I always remember after the interval, there was just a grand piano on the stage. He appeared in tuxedo and began to play 'Autumn Leaves.' An odd leaf fell from the ceiling and fluttered down onto the piano as he was playing. Then another leaf. And a few more; then, quite a few leaves were falling around him and finally a torrent of leaves falling, covering the piano and to cap it all, hessian sacks with 'Leaves' written on the sacking were thrown from the ceiling and the whole house collapsed in painful laughter as he looked so serious and surprised as he peeped out from the pile of leaves. Good stuff; simple, perhaps adolescent - but fun.
All three men were of their time and they were unforgettable and we have to look for new talent and there doesn't seem too much around to compare. There are a few good stand ups performing but Cooper, Dawson and Dodd were unique in their approach - well known themes, tried and tested for the audience of the time. Perhaps modern younger audiences would not find them so funny these days because those classic comedians challenged the values of their day and we have moved on - sadly.
There were others: I saw Morecambe and Wise at the long gone ABC Theatre in Hull and Bob Monkhouse at the now defunct Westfield Country Club in Cottingham. I am privileged to have seen all those I have mentioned.
"I wouldn't say my mother-in-law was a big woman, but she went to the cinema the other night in a white dress and they showed the picture on her back." Les Dawson
Hello dear blogger, the weekend is with us and as I look outside on this dull dreary day, it's raining yet again so no gardening today. I am fortunate however because last night my world was lit up with the magic and mystery of Derren Brown. Above is a copy of his programme cover. The act included magic, psychology, simple showmanship and astonishing entertainment and I was blessed with the company of four good friends, Steve, Tammy, Shirley Ann and Barry.
I don't know whether or not you've heard of Derren Brown; if you haven't, you may want to look him up on Channel 4s website and see if you can catch a glimpse of this guy - his tour show is called Enigma which in many ways represents him. I can't and wouldn't want to describe his show to you, that would spoilt it for him and many thousands who are yet to visit a theatre near them and marvel at the psychological dexterity of which he is capable. I recall his TV shows often started from a position where he was happy to divulge that his 'act' was magic, misdirection, tricks and many other things but however he does it, try not to exercise too much brain power trying to work it out because even if you had an inkling, you'll never really know.
Derren himself is a larger than life character in a thin body damn him, who is articulate, obviously highly intelligent and yet often displays a nervousness and energy which is surprising considering the the amount of public facing exposure he has. There is something slightly vulnerable about him and yet the contradiction is the amount of confidence he must have to achieve what he does. He is personable and witty, sometimes outrageously so and clearly a supreme con man (in the professional theatrical sense), but boy, would you trust him? I am not sure.
This is the guy who gets Tote bookies to pay up on losing tickets, who makes someone not able to see the London Eye when you are stood right next to it and can hypnotise you with a touch of the hand. An amazing and I suggest unique set of talents all rolled up into one man. If you get chance to see his show - go just for the experience.
Today's story is inspired by Derren.
A second rate magician was on board a second rate cruise liner doing his magic show. In the first trick he was making a woman disappear in a box. The ship's parrot was at the back of the audience on its perch and it squawked, "There's a hole in the floor, there's a hole in the floor." The audience murmured and a fuming magician moved on to his next trick.
The next trick involved making a card disappear. Again the parrot squawked, "Its up his sleeve, its up his sleeve." One or two boos rang out from the audience and a increasingly angry magician moved on to the next trick which involved sawing his assistant in two. Remorselessly the parrot piped up, "There's two of them in the box, two of them in the box." The audience began to leave and the magician was forced to abandon his show.
During the night, the ship hit an iceberg and sank with all hands save for the magician and the parrot who were afloat on the high sea on a plank of wood. After two days of silence the parrot finally said to the magician, "Okay, I give up, what have you done with the ship?"
