The View from the Hill on Saturday 5th December

Only twenty days until christmas, but I had my present yesterday, a bill for £168.00 and a pair of glasses which I need to wear when driving at night - Mrs B was right.

So, already feeling a little miffed I then headed off to the Christmas lunch with the Vicars, a mixed bag of protestants, Methodists and Reformists - but all united by one thing of course...their dislike of me. Of the thirteen present only two spoke to me and that was under sufferance I'm sure. So much for Christian fellowship.

It was a nice meal, baked camembert followed by turkey and trimmings - I didn't stay for the pudding.

So the day was already a loss when I heard about Richard Todd, dead at 90. He looked very frail when we saw him at the special screening of The Dam Busters in June, frail but very proud and determined to walk rather than be wheeled. He was a very British man and I shall  remember him not just for The Dam Busters but from his Disney films including Rob Roy then of course The Longest Day and The Hasty Heart in which he worked with Ronald Reagan and gave a brilliant performance as Lachlan McLachlan.

Now on a lighter note, we will be having Florida chicken casserole for tea tonight and entertaining the BBL Crew minus Ramsey and Lottie as they and Jake would fall out. There will be fun and laughter in this house tonight, and we will be rude to everyone we know behind their backs - you know a traditional  British get together.

Better find time to go and get Mrs B a present for christmas, obviously I can't let on here what it is but let me just say this - it will be very expensive. Probably more than £20.00 - in fact I might run to £30 this year as she has been particularly good and she does work for a parcel of twats so she needs cheering up.

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It is International Day of the Ninja - you couldn't make it up!

My Uncle Fred was a Ninja, he used to spend hours in dark clothing creeping around the back streets of Wisbech spying through cracks in the fence on unsuspecting ladies. Yes, Uncle Fred was a Ninja - well that was his defence in court.

Uncle Fred was a sorry looking thing, he had red hair, he was always complaining, he was a sufferer of Prader Willi Syndrome so was stuffing his face all the time, and he was obsequious and of course he trespassed a lot - he was:

The Ginger Whinger Binger Cringer Impinger Ninja - from Wisbech!

And that's a fact

PS any more rhymes for Ninja can be sent on a postcard to Wikianswers.

The View from the Hill on Friday 4th December

The View from the Hill has been a little blurry of late and the View whilst driving at night has been awful, hence Mrs B has insisted that I visit an optician - I have an appointment today. I have had my eyes tested before but the one part I am not looking forward to is when they puff air in your eye, I'm just a bit of a wimp when it comes to that.

Whenever I think of opticians a couple of things happen, I start to worry about the cost of glasses and I recall that wonderful sketch on The Two Ronnies, you know the one where Ronnie Barker as the optician is blind as a bat and crawls around the floor following the line and Corbett says "Is there a dog in here?" - you had to be there I suppose....by the way Happy Birthday little Ron, 79 today.

I will obviously report back on whether the View is to remain blurry or be improved.

Later, at lunch time, I will be walking into the lions den - having a christmas lunch with a number of clergymen.

I am steeling myself, ready for the usual comments and questions, I am expected to take it but not give it as it's near Christmas you see and they get excited about the arrival of baby jesus - Jesus!

No doubt they will give me a filthy look when I don't say grace, but I don't care - god didn't provide the meal, The Shireoaks Inn did!

I'm going to be strong and polite and then I will come home and no doubt have some ammo for another blog.

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On this day in 1954, the first Burger King opened it's door in Miami, Florida. 55 years later and they are still using the same recipe, the same basic design of restaurant and the same bag of bread buns (expected to last another 16 years).

Of course in America they call a burger a patty, a burger is a patty in a bun - but I wonder if the Americans realise why it's called a patty? Well let me reveal to the world that is not the commonly held explanation that patty comes from the French pate (can you imagine Americans eating anything French - apart from fries), no the patty is called a patty because in 1954 and Irish immigrant called Pat O'Donald was working at the factory where the meat was prepared. My distant relative Bob McSanders was working there too and recalls the incident when poor Pat fell into the mincing machine.

Of course the machine made mince meat of him, literally, but the opening party had been planned and the ribbon was going to be cut by local celebrity hairdresser, Pinky Littleton, with her own scissors. So ahead it went and in that first batch of burgers there was a smattering of Irishman and from this day forward each little circle of meat is blessed in the factory and christened Patty.

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Thursday 3rd December

And a new text editor on the blog, so heaven knows what this will turn out like!

I have been a proud member of the Born Free Foundation for some years now, it supports animals in captivity as well as endangered species, so my credentials in this area are secure I think and that is why I now feel able to comment about the plight of the Tiger.

Some would say a beautiful and powerful animal, iconic even, but endangered. There is no doubt that a breeding programme is required to prevent the Tiger from disappearing.

Usually it would be a specialist team of behavioural experts who would arrange a breeding programme but how wonderful it is to see evolution at its best, now the Tiger has arranged his own breeding programme - the only trouble is his wife found out!

Tiger Tiger in the night
Bleeding after quite a fight
His wife found out, a fierce one she
Look out Tiger, mind that tree!

With apologies to Blake.

Tiger is a rich man, and he can afford a good lawyer - I think he might need one!


I like writing poems, let me share with you another...

There once was a Tiger called Tiger
He couldn't keep his wood in his pocket
His wife found out
She beat the shit out of him
And perhaps I can't write poems after all.

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On this day in 1950 Alberto Juantorena was born. I suppose for people of my generation his appearance at success at the Montreal Olympics in 1976 was the moment on the athletic track but it always brings to mind that famous comment made by David Coleman, the wonderful BBC commentator who at one point said "Juantorena opens his legs and shows his class".

The British love these sort of double entendre, just the other night I heard Justin in the Jungle say that he hated double entendre's but he tried to slip one in every now and then!

My old friend Robert Bilge was the finest man I ever knew for the single entendre, he cut right to the heart of the matter and he would call a spade a spade, even if it was shovel. In fact in hindsight I think he may have had a spade fetish. He also used to talk a lot about light switches and knobs - well whatever turns you on.

I have known some strange people, I don't know why they are attracted to me, it's a bit like moths to a flame (I prefer that analogy to flies and shit thank you).

Perhaps they wish to be a shining wit like me?

Anyway, I don't mind as long as they keep doing silly things and thereby give me a chance to report them to you, there is nothing more wonderful than to give you that warm feeling first thing in the morning and for you to know that it is me and that you haven't wet the bed.

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Wednesday 2nd December

A most disappointing show yesterday from all and sundry in relation to Aids ribbons, this country really doesn't seem to care and I feel that we have a hard lesson to learn.

President Obama has announced his latest troop surge for Afghanistan but with a promise of 2011 as a sort of cut off point - lets hope those extra men make a difference.

I was shown a photograph last night, it was of a group of 10 young men who were passing out after their bomb squad training in the Army, the photo was dated 2008. Of the 10 men in the picture three are now dead and the young man showing me the picture was soon to return to Afghanistan. He was a brave young man and I was pleased to shake his hand. There was no doubt that his family, although very proud, were also scared that their son would be facing extreme danger and the reality of the losses already suffered by the bomb disposal team was hitting home.

99 British men have been killed this year in Afghan, 299 Americans and 87 from other countries, that makes a total of 485 - since the conflict began a total of 1532 troops have lost their lives, and we don't seem to have won anything...yet.

You know I have been calling for the troops to come home, that a rethink is in order but I heard this statement the other day and now it is me doing a rethink:

We can't win but we can't afford to lose.

What a bloody mess.

I hope the young man I met last night does not become a statistic but if he does I know he believes that he is fighting for those 3 fallen comrades - and all who went before.

"He did not feel this sacrifice a vain or empty one, we will not debate his profound wisdom at these proceedings."
It is the Kobayashi Maru scenario playing out in front of our eyes.


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Today is the feast day of St Bibiana, a 4th century Roman virgin and martyr - not many of them around today!

She is the patron of epileptics, people with hangovers, the mentally ill, the tortured and cross dressers!

So, special day for all you cross dressers - go and make a sacrifice dressed as a vestal virgin.

Not much humour flowing today, too many serious thoughts banging around my silly old head

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Tuesday 1st December

The first day of the meteorological winter and an early frost...how apt for World Aids Day.

In the same way that Mrs B and I wore our red poppies with pride, today we will wear our red ribbons.

It's not something that seems to get the coverage it got twenty years ago, but in the last year well over 300,000 children would have died with HIV/Aids - mostly in Africa of course where the ignorance of governments and churches do not help the situation. It is thought that since it was first recognised 15 million Africans have died from Aids. 15 million. There are 14 million Aids orphans in Africa.

In the UK less than 20,000 have died from the more than 100,000 diagnosed. A quarter of people who have the virus in the UK are undiagnosed.

You will be horrified to hear that the UK is bucking the trend with new diagnoses, where as world wide diagnoses trends are down, in the UK diagnosis level in some groups has gone up by 74% in the last 9 years.

We need to keep reminding people that this pandemic is still with us.

Today we should think not just about the numbers but about the individuals, today I will remember Tony and Richard and Chris and I will get a little angry and a little sad.

But I will wear my red ribbon with pride.

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December 1st 1976 - the birthday of Matthew Shepard. A young man killed by ignorance and hatred.

The early frost...

His laughter was better than birds in the morning, his smile

Turned the edge of the wind, his memory

Disarms death and charms the surly grave.

Early he went to bed, too early we

Saw his light put out;

yet we could not grieve more that a little while,

For he lives in the earth around us,

laughs from the sky.

C Day Lewis

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Monday 30th November

Happy St Andrew's Day - especially in Scotland where you get a day off! Not only is Andrew patron saint of Scotland but of the Ukraine,Russia, Sicily, Greece,Romania and the Philippines amongst others. He is the patron saint of fishermen, fishmongers, rope makers, singer and performers. And now I adopt him as the Patron Saint of Bloggers.

I took myself off to the cinema yesterday to see the blockbuster 2012, it's about the end of the world and it's also about two and and half hours! I hope I don't spoil it for anyone but Roland Emmerich certainly knows how to destroy the world. After The Day After Tomorrow and Independence Day, I would have thought they would run out of ways of knocking down the White House, but he did it again and with great aplomb.

Once again though, a black President (Danny Glover) oversees the end of the world, as Morgan Freeman did in Deep Impact - I'm surprised this didn't keep Obama out of office and I bet that somewhere there is a little group watching the skies even more closely now, the Obama Asteroid Avoidance Team or something like that.

As usual in a disaster film there was a little dog, and it didn't get flattened or eaten or anything and you sort of think this is one of the things all disaster films has to have, a frisky little dog that just avoids death making us go aaahhhh, whilst millions of poor people are being burned or drowned or blown up - but it's OK the dog survived!

There has to be an act of selfless courage leading to almost certain death, there has to be a mad scientist with some sort of ailment, there has to be old people who might die but before doing so discover that being grumpy old dickheads isn't going to save them from impending doom!

In short, these films are formulaic and predictable but we get drawn in by the magic of the effects and my goodness they have mastered special effects, some of the stuff in 2012 is breathtaking.

From The Poseidon Adventure through The Towering Inferno right up to 2012, I am a sucker for a disaster movie, and perhaps in a small way it helps to remind us all how fragile we are, like ants scuttling about on this big ball of earth but it wouldn't take much to wipe us all out, aliens or nature, one way or the other we are doomed!

And it all starts with a black President...watch the skies, watch the skies!!!

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On this day in 2004, Ken Jennings winning run on the American quiz show Jeopardy came to an end - he had won more than two million dollars. When Mrs B and I holidayed in the US we became addicted to Jeopardy with it's host Alex Trebek... I can hear the music in my head now.

It's a quiz where you are given the answers in categories and you then have to tell Alex the question and you must do it in the form of a question. It's brilliant.

Anyway, I just thought that having written about disaster films where everyone is in jeopardy, that this was a serendipitous connection between the two parts of my blog and that somewhere my brand new patron saint is looking down on me and blessing my endeavours by finding connections between the unconnectable!

You see how great the power of the blog saint is - and his name and Andrew and he's mine, all mine.In fact I'm beginning to wonder if I might be a reincarnation of that Saint - I feel quite divine this morning...

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Sunday 29th November

First of all, I have to apologise for misleading you all - I didn't go in the loft, that joy has been postponed for a week.

Secondly, let me point out that Enid Blyton was not poisoned and I apologise to her many loyal fans for intimating that she might have been.

Thirdly, well I can't think of a thirdly at the moment but please feel free to send me your comments and responses to the blog as it is nice to know that people do read it and take it seriously.

I went the the theatre last night, one week after seeing Kevin Spacy in Inherit The Wind I was watching The Pleiades Theatre Company in a new play - Where The Rails Run. The play was written, directed and starred Maura Murphy and also in the cast were two people I went to college with, Phil and Michelle.

According to their blurb, this company "challenges the boundaries of conventional theatre". I can tell you they succeed, this was nothing if not unconventional.

Phil is a good actor, he is natural and his delivery is natural and believable, he was supported well by some of the other cast members especially Nick Newman and Adam Guest, but the star of the show, this one woman force for the unconventional must take the blame for a script that was clunky, direction that was unfocused and acting that leaves me speechless.(Well not speechless but you get the idea).

I'm not really supposed to be writing this, the last time I was honest about Maura's work I got hate mail, but bugger it, they actually left feedback sheets on the seats in the theatre...so this is my feedback.

The story was about a woman and her two sons travelling to Ireland to enable her to recuperate following breast cancer. She and her husband have separated but they stay in touch and argue over their relationship and their children. We also meet the woman's sister, as well as local characters from the small village in Ireland.

The main character, her husband and her sons are all played in a naturalistic style, and the story, although sometimes difficult to hear though all the music played to help point up the drama, hangs together as we come to see how breast cancer impacts on the whole family and not just the sufferer.

But then we get the sister, mugging terribly, breaking the fourth wall constantly, moving like she had memorised a series of moves around a room and was now doomed to repeat them endlessly! And then she disappears and we breath a sigh of relief before she returns now as a villager and gives us a combination of Mrs Overall, Petula Gordeno and Mrs Doyle, again totally devoid of truth and jarring against the natural delivery of all around her.

Well I suppose if you write direct and star in a show you get to do it your way, but it was spoiling the play.

Apparently the night before the audience had ripped them to pieces and I can see why, a good idea buried in the mediocrity of a woman who needs to concentrate on one thing and refine it, perhaps the writing.

The programme states that the show is going to the Edinburgh Fringe in 2010 - good luck!

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On this day in 1921, Mr and Mrs Labofish of Newcastle Upon Tyne were delivered of a baby daughter, they named her Jacqueline. She grew up to become a trapeze artist in the circus and a chorus girl in a nightclub, she also married and had two sons, Frank and Sylvester. Yes, Jacqueline Labofish IS Jackie Stallone! And she's a Geordie.

Jackie found fame in her own right of course, through various appearances most memorably Celebrity Big Brother, where she needed a separate room just for her lips.

She also invented rumpology, this is where you tell the future for clients by studying their arses.

I have decided to tell the future for people, I have found a way of looking into the future and usually I'm pretty close with my predictions - I call it letterology. I mug your postman, read you mail and then I shout the information through your letter box using a serious and deep voice.

People are always amazed that I can sense so much just from a few letters, but it's a skill I have and I just want to share it with the world...

And that's a fact!