The View from the Hill on Saturday 6th March

Have you noticed how cruel people can be to those who are 'different'?

Many years ago in Lincoln, there used to live a lady named Vera Cottam, I would imagine she has long since died but if by any chance she is alive and reads this, I apologise for any embarrassment.

Vera was different - she was quite short with a scoliosis and she was not classically attractive. Vera wandered around town mostly at night because she had become fed up of being harassed and bullied and attacked if she walked through town during the day.

She was idiosyncratic in her behaviour and dress, famous for her rain coat and her white wellington boots, we occasionally had to go to her rescue when she was set upon by drunken yobs who wanted to taunt her or throw kebabs at her.

Over the course of many years, we managed to establish a rapport with her and she started to respond and open up and it soon became clear that she had learned not to trust anyone because of the abuse she had suffered.

That was abuse from just normal every day members of the public who decided, on sight, that she must be mad or dangerous because of how she looked.

Recalling Vera has bought other characters bubbling to the surface after many years, like Martin, the drunk who had a habit of spitting on you. He was a dirty old bugger and someone who we didn't get to know other than when he had sobered up he was always quiet.

It is incredible how these people leave their mark in your memory, some for bad reasons but some for good.

I just have to write the name Brian Ernest Lyndon (surname omitted on purpose) and I know Mrs B will transported back in time and perhaps feel a little sad, whereas the names Karl Marcus will make her think of smelly feet and Anne-Marie & Tina of so many things.

All part of life's rich tapestry, and even as I sit here writing this, more and more names and faces are popping into my head, people I have not seen nor really thought about for ages but they all live in the back of your mind somewhere.

I hope I was always even handed in my treatment of them but I know on occasion I was not, because although I was decent enough to see the real lady in the white wellies, I am still human and sometimes I got it wrong.

If only I could be like Gordon Brown and never make a mistake.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Of Time Remembered by Robert Sexton

The brightness of the past is never lost.
Memory brings it back, and contemplation brings it near again.
Some may deny the virtue of sentiment;you will not find me among them.
There is too much of the past that I do not wish to forget.

The View from the Hill on Friday 5th March

The two faces of Question Time, career politicians vs the rest of us and Will Self vs Carole Vorderman.

She was just irritating and came over as a wannabe Tory MP, and she has already perfected the MP's trick of not answering the question.

Will Self just makes me gleeful in the extreme, his acerbic and sardonic contributions, uncomfortable listening for the 'leaders of the land'.

All this excitement about Polyphemus appearing before the Iraq War tribunal today is wasted - he will say nothing we didn't know.

He has to say he supported the war otherwise he will have to answer why he didn't resign as a matter of principle? He will say he did give the funds needed for the troops and he will deflect and obfuscate when it comes to helicopters and snatch land-rovers.

I don't think it can be made uncomfortable enough for him, sat in London being gently prodded by the sheep he picked for this task, what we really need is for Odysseus and his men to suddenly emerge from beneath the sheep and stick the truth right into his eye like a burning club.

(If you don't understand this you need to read The Odyssey).

After yesterdays awful news about what is happening to the children of Fallujah I would like our Prime Minister to answer the questions about depleted uranium shells and other matters that the US government will duck.

Limbless soldiers wounded in battle, limbless children innocent victims - standing side by side, this is an image I cannot get out of my head, I wonder what Polyphemus sees when he closes his great eye at night?

Mrs B and I watched The Hurt Locker last night - excellent film about war and warriors. The scene of the soldier in a supermarket buying breakfast cereal is so prosaic and so powerful.

I hope it wins best film this weekend and that Kathryn Bigelow kicks the blue ass of her ex hubby off the stage.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Todays quote is for For Gordon Brown:

'Be honourable yourself if you wish to associate with honourable people'.

The View from the Hill on Thursday 4th March

Another early start, this one by choice as I have to be in Lincoln first thing.

I have not been following this tax status business surrounding Lord Ashcroft very closely because like most normal people I don't really care, but it was clear that William Hague was getting embroiled in something that might cause real embarrassment yesterday - and then Mr Hague sighed with relief...Michael Foot died.

All the press and media coverage will now be about Michael Foot and it gives William a chance to regroup and get his ducks in a row before the inquisition.

Politicians are very good at using death and tragedy to cover up their own dirty dealings, I recall some criticism when it was suggested bad news was leaked on the day Princess Margaret died as no one would notice it.

I can only imagine the terrible crap they will sneak out under the cover of Prince Philip or the Queen biting the dust.

Back to Mr Foot, who suddenly after his death has become the greatest statesman of his generation, a great leader and a dedicated and loyal party man....what a load of hypocrites they are.

Most of the public will remember the shambling mess of a man who wore a donkey jacket to the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday, a man who looked like Professor Brainstorm and spoke like him too.

It must give Mrs T hope that when she dies, people will say nice things about her too.


Anyway, moving on - granola to eat and accoutrements to prepare before my drive to Lincoln.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I have decided it's time for a change and 'It's a fact' is taking a break for a while. Instead I want to leave you with an inspirational quote or little poem each day, to help send you on your way.

In light of what was written above today, I thought about death and taxes and found this quote:

"they say there are two things you can't avoid - death and taxes. That may be true, but at least death only comes for your once, the tax man is there every year!"

The View from the Hill on Wednesday 3rd March

With a variety of pillows to choose from, I still found myself with three concrete blocks in bed, a very uncomfortable night and an early appointment with the kettle, the cup and Dr PG. Dr PG gives such good advice and I would recommend his tips to anyone.

Still dark, I opened the back door and was struck by the noise, was it the crack of dawn?

When dawn cracks, is it like a china plate being dropped onto a tiled floor? The pieces of the plate flying apart in the same way that the darkness flies apart to allow the sun to creep into view?

Or is the crack of dawn like the crack of a whip, driving the darkness away like a skulking,lithe black panther, allowing the magnificent golden lion of the sun to shake out its mane and take centre stage?

No, today the crack of dawn was birdsong.

I grabbed my phone and recorded the noise, and hopefully will work out how to get it to you via this blog.

I settled into my chair with my cup and turned on what's left of the BBC...sadly it is being eroded by acid rain and deforestation. Poor 6 Music is on the endangered species list, no chance for survival, likewise the Asian Network.

Now if they want to save money, I suggest a cull of Breakfast presenters starting with Sian and Charlie - irritating, irksome and persistent as a small piece of dog poo stuck on your slippers.

Jamie Bulger murderer back in prison, more access for parents to find where the local paedophiles are, all good news as usual but a great big obvious silence surrounding the death of Kristian Digby... I wonder why?

Auto-erotic asphyxiation has been mentioned, which takes the phrase 'dying for a wank' to a whole new level. No doubt he is sat in a room with David Carradine and Stephen Milligan, and perhaps Michael Hutchence, all of them shaking their heads and reflecting on the legacy of their work and how it will always be overshadowed  by the manner of their death.

Now - where is that bird song?








http://audioboo.fm/boos/101985-morning-chorus

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On this day in 1920, James Doohan was born, he died in 2005 and it is hard to believe that Scotty has been gone five years.

A master of many accents (apart from Scottish some would say) the Canadian actor carved his own niche in sci-fi history as the chief engineer of the USS Enterprise.

We miss you Scotty.

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Tuesday 2nd March

It is a cold frosty morning and there is nothing but bad news to report so I decided to actually give you a View from the Hill today. A picture paints a thousand words.

In the top of the tree a little blackbird was singing its heart out, and if there was a sound track not only would you hear the bird song but the clatter of bins as the bin men dragged the green Daleks to be emptied.

The covering of frost makes everything look more in focus somehow and the little bit of colour in the sky only adds to the optimistic feeling of a good day ahead - then you switch on the news!

Pensioners killed in arson attack, Kristian Digby dead at 32, Chilean Earthquake updates - and people who grind their teeth in bed at night because of stress!

So, back to the picture, and for the rest of the day I will be like Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson   - 

There's a bird on a branch

There's a branch on a tree

There's a tree in the meadow

And that's where I long to be

'Neath that bird on a branch

'Neath that branch on a tree

'Neath that tree in the meadow

Where you said you love me

Sing, little birdie, sing your song

Sing, you'll help our love along

Sing, little birdie up above

Sing a song of love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UiWHrTncnk

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On this day in 1904, Dr Seuss was born. Real name Theodore Seuss Geisel he wrote many wonderful children's books which are still firm favourites today.

On this, the anniversary of his birth, it is National Read Across America Day, a celebration of reading and no doubt many will be doing just that with The Cat in the Hat or Green Eggs and Ham.

His writing style was quite unique

His hair was groomed and always sleek

His books were funny and had a moral

Better get two so the kids don't quarrel

I bought one for my nephew Sam

He read it whilst he ate his ham

His ham was green his eggs were too

I wonder what that did to his poo?

I'm not as good as Doctor Seuss

It's time to go and drink my juice

and have my tablets, 1,2,3

Before I leave, the world to see.

Have a nice day and look out for the Grinch

Given a chance your joy he'll pinch

I'm going now, my brains are racked

Thank God say's you

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Monday 1st March

It always seems sort of right when the first of the month is on a Monday, like you can make a fresh start to whatever your endeavours are, so good luck with that.

Happy St Davids Day too. Perhaps this day of Welsh celebratory eisteddfod is the day to reveal a little more about my failure to climb back on the stage.

Under Milk Wood is a very special piece of writing and I was lucky to have been connected with a wonderfully vibrant, lyrical and joyful production some years ago.

With music written especially for us, I had the great fortune to be cast in some cracking roles, Eli Jenkins and Mr Waldo for example, and I just fell in love with the whole thing.

Our director was a horrid man ( at this point in Lincoln a man is spluttering into his Campari ) who drove us remorselessly in an effort to deliver a slick show, I think he achieved it and we had a great time performing at outdoor venues in Lincoln and the wider area. Such was the impact of the piece on me that I still sing the songs to myself.

Having such fond memories there was no way that I could allow any re-visiting to sour that, and it became apparent that Community Theatre could not guarantee that quality.

Now in writing this I am well aware that some who will appear in the production read this blog, but let me point out that it was the actions and attitudes of a minority that helped to shape my decision.

Can you imagine attending workshops and preparing for an audition and having no notion of the play - well some had not even read a synopsis of the play and didn't even know it was set in Wales! They were struggling with the concept of having to try a Welsh accent. Others were only interested in getting the 'star' roles.

I wrote in an earlier blog about this and I had decided to try and work around it but the more I sat and thought the more I realised that it would be like watching abuse - I would not have been able to stand and say nothing, it would have caused me stress and so I just decided that this was neither the time nor the production to remount my theatrical career.

I do need to do something and I am hopeful that radio can fill the void, there is Maunside Radio waiting to launch and I have feelers out with another larger station so perhaps I will be assaulting the cyber airwaves again soon.

Anyway, time to move on - perhaps a bowl of cowl for breakfast or some Welsh Cakes.

Cymru am byth!


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


St David doesn't get the day all to himself - it is also National Pig Day in America, where they celebrate the rightful place of the pig.

The rightful place of the pig! In a sandwich isn't it?

And that's a fact!

The View from the Hill on Sunday 28th February

The safest place to view an approaching tsunami is through a television screen on the opposite side of the world, and yet sitting in my reclining chair at 10.11pm last evening I shared the sense of impending disaster that those gathered on a hill above a beach in Hawaii must have felt.

The cameras all pointing out towards the horizon, every white horse becoming the target of scrutiny, every exposed rock a sign that the ocean was drawing back ready to unleash its fury on those volcanic islands.

CNN were reporting in their usual well respected manner, Fox News were blaming it all on Islam, Gays and Liberals.

By 10.55pm I had decided that I was going to wave the tsunami goodbye and I went to bed but first thing this morning I turned on the television and found that Hawaii was still there.

There are obviously two types of people in the world, the ones who run towards a tsunami to see it coming and those who climb to the very highest point of the island waiting for it to pass. Which one are you?

Poor Chile has taken a battering, the earth once again reminding us all of the fragility of our lives and the things we build and gather around us to make that life tolerable.

In the midst of all the economic and political upheaval we are experiencing, in the wake of disasters like the Chilean earthquake, how sad that the news found time to show two men not shaking hands.

I don't particularly like football and I have very little time for footballers, I did have a sneaking regard for John Fashanu and there are stories I could tell you....and perhaps will tell you about catching him driving his sports car in the early hours of a Sunday morning wearing only a short dressing gown...but perhaps I should keep those stories for another day.

Perhaps my dislike for the players of the beautiful game is based in their arrogance, ignorance, petulance,  decadence, imprudence, impudence, priapism and greed. Or perhaps I'm jealous?

Ant and Hand are back on Saturday night television - with a show that is a combination of the Generation Game, Family Fortunes and Simon. Two knob head families trying to out scream each other, showing the world how wonderfully crass the British lower classes can be. I doubt if we will see the Smyth- Hardings from Windsor or the Cholmondley-Creekshughes from Bath on Push The Button - no I suggest Ant and Hand will more likely turn up in the post industrial landscape of the north and perhaps Essex to find contestants.

I know my comments may well give rise to shouts of 'you snob' - well it won't be the first time that taste has been confused with class.

This is actually a tale of revenge as yesterday Mrs B and I were thought the lowest of the low because of where we lived. We were judged solely on our postcode and not our character by some tattooed harridan who obviously left school with one GCSE, and that was in keeping her legs and mouth open as long as possible, so what's good for the goose....


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On this day in 1939 the word 'dord' was discovered in Webster's Dictionary and somebody realised, wait a minute, there's no such word!

Apparently someone had sent a note to the publisher stating that 'D or d' could be used as an abbreviation for density and some clever clogs transposed the thing and stuck it in the dictionary.

Well I think I would like to resurrect the word and use it and I would ask all of you to try and use it on Facebook or wherever you can.

Let me give you some examples:

Did you see those families on Ant and Hand? They were dord!

How dord is John Terry?

Is that Nick Clegg? No, it's a dord farage!

This fog is so dord - I can hardly see my Hand in front of my Ant!

And don't forget to conjugate...dordly, dordest, dorder and such like.

I look forward to seeing the word dord being used in the future and perhaps we can win it a place in Webster's dictionary for good.

And that's a fact!