Greetings my soggy followers - will this rain never end? (If it is not raining where you are at this moment then just pretend you're slightly damp please; which is easy if you wet the bed).
I want to share with you the story of my week, I do this not to gloat or glorify the wondrous nature of the life I share with Mrs B but simply to remind you all that although it may be raining today, it makes the next glimpse of sunshine even more heart warming...I am your glimpse of sunshine.
Last Thursday, Mrs B and I headed down to Chichester to see Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton in Sweeney Todd. It was the first time Mrs B and I had been to see a Sondheim musical together - we loved it. The whole thing was just brilliant, from the huge thrust stage, the set, the music the...whole thing.
On the return leg of the journey we stopped in Oxford, staying in a converted prison and again this was a lovely experience.
There was the return to work after a nice relaxing weekend, and even though I have been suffering very badly with man flu, I soldiered on - even submitting my tax return. Even though I was full of cold and frustrated by the self assessment system, I was still not downhearted.
On Tuesday night I went to the Royal Concert Hall to see the legendary Jack Jones in concert - a great show from a great talent - more than fifty years in the business and still a voice that makes a room go quiet when he sings...I mean total silence, not a cough or a sniffle as his voice wafted over us. Amazing.
The week was progressing so well and I knew that Mrs B was getting a little excited because yesterday (Thursday 3rd Nov 2011) was John Barrowman Day.
I have said it before and proudly repeat - JB is GOD.
Anyone who has not been to see his live shows has missed a treat - three hours of fun and music, and although it's camper than a row of tents covered with pink feather boas and fairy dust, it's magnificent.
As the great man said we should all of us try and forget the state of the world and just enjoy - in his words we should all try and fart sparkles.
It was a fantastic night in the theatre, added to which he replied to one of my tweets after the show - I was so excited that not only did I fart sparkles, a little bit of gold wee came out.
In one week, Mrs B and I have done more than we once did in a year and we know how lucky we are to able to enjoy life as we do - I mean everyday I go to work I am reminded how lucky I am.
Almost thirty years ago, Mrs B and I were newly wed, struggling to make ends meet and we would sit in our house, no heating, no carpets, second hand furniture, eating corned beef or Findus crispy pancakes (if they were on offer) - there was no endless supply of pink fizz, no multi channel TV but we were OK.
I recall that if we wanted a night out we might go and join the queue at the ABC Cinema in Saltergate, Lincoln with just about enough money for two tickets. We joined the queue and kept out fingers crossed that the manager (Mr Richard Black - god bless you sir) would invite us to enter via a side door and not pay for our seats. If we didn't pay for the seats we could share a Kia-Ora and a small bag of sweets.
Those far of days of deprivation are now well behind us and I have no guilt in enjoying what we have earned and I hope that Mrs B and I get the chance to enjoy many more weeks like this one.
My best to you all, as I close this message to you I note that the rain has stopped falling - here's hoping you get to glimpse some sunshine today.
Thank you for reading my little blog and I love you all...
PS Mrs B says she loves Mr B, I'm not daft - it's either Michael or John
PPS - some extra sunshine just in case...
The Beatles - Here Comes The Sun
Friday, 4 November 2011
Saturday, 8 October 2011
The 'George' Dream - realised.
Hello again, hello.
I wrote that line many years ago and gave it as a gift to a struggling singer called Lionel Richie - never heard of him since.
Mrs B is sequestered in her boudoir watching the rugby and I was watching an old western whilst preparing her breakfast crumpets, but then I discovered the sad news concerning the death of George Baker.
Suddenly many thoughts crystallised in my head, so after devouring said crumpets, I decided to let loose and show you my crystals.
For several weeks I have been having the 'George' dream, a dream in which someone called George dies - sadly it was that thoroughly nice George Baker. In hindsight, his name has been at the back of my mind all week.
Join me as we drift back in time, it has been a week of highs and lows and I suppose getting my flu jab on Wednesday morning was the start of a reflective process that leads me to this entry. The reason I have the flu jab is because of my heart attack - it's one of the perks of surviving, you get bumped to the top of the list for flu jabs.
The nurse always says the same thing, 'just a little scratch', before she impales you with a knitting needle that basically skewers you to the chair. That moment of intense agony rattles throughout your body and reminds you of two things - one, I am alive and two, I tend to over dramatise things.
Every day is a bonus day and in recent times, Mrs B and I have tried to enjoy as many days as we can by doing the things that we want...more of that in a minute.
So after having the jab on Wednesday I had two funerals to conduct, both tragic affairs but one I suppose tipped the balance in that it was for a baby - born asleep.
I don't need to spell out how awful these things are do I? Heartbreaking.
On Wednesday evening it was Rock Choir rehearsals and we had a few run throughs of Oh Happy Day before moving onto the Abba song, Waterloo. In hindsight, the juxtaposition of those songs on that day now seems perfect.
So, Wednesday drew to a close and I bet you can get what came next...yes, you are right, it was Thursday.
One of the things Mrs B and I do as often as we can afford to, is go to London and see a show. On Thursday, we boarded the 12.28 from Nottingham to St Pancras then got a taxi to our hotel which was within easy walking distance of our venue of choice - The Royal Albert Hall.
The hotel - the Kensington Green Hotel - was a late choice as we could not get a room in the Holiday Inn which we would have preferred. There were other hotels available but they were quite expensive at £220.00 plus VAT, so we (sorry I) decided we should try this '4 Star boutique hotel close to Harrods'. There was an offer on if you paid in full before arrival - that should have given me a clue!
To say that Mrs B was disappointed with the standard of the room would be like saying Hitler caused a few minor problems in Europe during the war - she was DISAPPOINTED!
I could list the things wrong but there was one little detail that tipped the balance - bloody fingerprints on the wall. I kid you not - I fully expected Horatio Caine to walk in, stand sideways, take off his sunglasses and make some pithy remark about the finger of suspicion pointing at us.
Sufficed to say, we made our displeasure known and after dumping our bag we left the hotel to roam the streets of Kensington for the next hour or so. We knew we had to go back and sleep there but we decided to only return when we were so tired that we might not notice the flaws.
We walked through Kensington Gardens and then went for a coffee and a meal before picking up our tickets for that evenings show - Idina Menzel, supported by Marvin Hamlisch conducting the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra.
For those who don't know who Idina Menzel is - shame! Have a look at this video to educate yourself.
Idina Menzel - Wicked
If I have to tell you who Marvin Hamlisch is, then please stop reading the blog.
Anyway, the concert was brilliant, the whole ambience was spot on (apart from the screaming fan sat right behind us) and for me seeing and hearing the great Hamlisch play a piano no more that 60 feet from where I was sitting - well that was just magical. And here is where the news about George Baker comes back into play.
Ian Fleming thought that George was the perfect actor to play James Bond, he didn't get the part of course but he did appear in several Bond films including The Spy Who Loved Me, the theme of which was written by Marvin Hamlisch.
Anyhoo, moving on....
The concert was brilliant, but it was like an all time high which suddenly ended when we realised we had to walk back to that hotel.
After a restless night, we arose early and made our way to the station where we breakfasted at Le Pain Quotidien. I highly recommend this option, their organic bread and preserves were yummy!
Arriving back in Nottingham, Mrs B went her way and I mine as we had separate tasks to accomplish - but as I drove back to Mansfield I listened to the discussion on the radio about how BBC2 will be changed because of cutbacks - 56% of their output will be repeats.
People were phoning in with their suggestions for repeats they would like to see, Poldark was a front runner, as was I Claudius...which starred Derek Jacobi and George Baker as Tiberius.
And then here we are, Saturday morning and Mrs B is booing the French as they thrash England and I am reflecting on this week, life and death and now what comes next?
For me and Mrs B, another busy week. I have work and I also will be down in London on Tuesday to record a show which will be broadcast on Radio 4 (more details nearer the date of airing) and then on the weekend we are back in London to see Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones in Driving Miss Daisy.
This is what life is about - enjoying the chances you have.
We can't change the sadness that death brings but whilst we are alive we should try and live.
Rest in peace George -
George in I, Claudius
I wrote that line many years ago and gave it as a gift to a struggling singer called Lionel Richie - never heard of him since.
Mrs B is sequestered in her boudoir watching the rugby and I was watching an old western whilst preparing her breakfast crumpets, but then I discovered the sad news concerning the death of George Baker.
Suddenly many thoughts crystallised in my head, so after devouring said crumpets, I decided to let loose and show you my crystals.
For several weeks I have been having the 'George' dream, a dream in which someone called George dies - sadly it was that thoroughly nice George Baker. In hindsight, his name has been at the back of my mind all week.
Join me as we drift back in time, it has been a week of highs and lows and I suppose getting my flu jab on Wednesday morning was the start of a reflective process that leads me to this entry. The reason I have the flu jab is because of my heart attack - it's one of the perks of surviving, you get bumped to the top of the list for flu jabs.
The nurse always says the same thing, 'just a little scratch', before she impales you with a knitting needle that basically skewers you to the chair. That moment of intense agony rattles throughout your body and reminds you of two things - one, I am alive and two, I tend to over dramatise things.
Every day is a bonus day and in recent times, Mrs B and I have tried to enjoy as many days as we can by doing the things that we want...more of that in a minute.
So after having the jab on Wednesday I had two funerals to conduct, both tragic affairs but one I suppose tipped the balance in that it was for a baby - born asleep.
I don't need to spell out how awful these things are do I? Heartbreaking.
On Wednesday evening it was Rock Choir rehearsals and we had a few run throughs of Oh Happy Day before moving onto the Abba song, Waterloo. In hindsight, the juxtaposition of those songs on that day now seems perfect.
So, Wednesday drew to a close and I bet you can get what came next...yes, you are right, it was Thursday.
One of the things Mrs B and I do as often as we can afford to, is go to London and see a show. On Thursday, we boarded the 12.28 from Nottingham to St Pancras then got a taxi to our hotel which was within easy walking distance of our venue of choice - The Royal Albert Hall.
The hotel - the Kensington Green Hotel - was a late choice as we could not get a room in the Holiday Inn which we would have preferred. There were other hotels available but they were quite expensive at £220.00 plus VAT, so we (sorry I) decided we should try this '4 Star boutique hotel close to Harrods'. There was an offer on if you paid in full before arrival - that should have given me a clue!
To say that Mrs B was disappointed with the standard of the room would be like saying Hitler caused a few minor problems in Europe during the war - she was DISAPPOINTED!
I could list the things wrong but there was one little detail that tipped the balance - bloody fingerprints on the wall. I kid you not - I fully expected Horatio Caine to walk in, stand sideways, take off his sunglasses and make some pithy remark about the finger of suspicion pointing at us.
Sufficed to say, we made our displeasure known and after dumping our bag we left the hotel to roam the streets of Kensington for the next hour or so. We knew we had to go back and sleep there but we decided to only return when we were so tired that we might not notice the flaws.
We walked through Kensington Gardens and then went for a coffee and a meal before picking up our tickets for that evenings show - Idina Menzel, supported by Marvin Hamlisch conducting the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra.
For those who don't know who Idina Menzel is - shame! Have a look at this video to educate yourself.
Idina Menzel - Wicked
If I have to tell you who Marvin Hamlisch is, then please stop reading the blog.
Anyway, the concert was brilliant, the whole ambience was spot on (apart from the screaming fan sat right behind us) and for me seeing and hearing the great Hamlisch play a piano no more that 60 feet from where I was sitting - well that was just magical. And here is where the news about George Baker comes back into play.
Ian Fleming thought that George was the perfect actor to play James Bond, he didn't get the part of course but he did appear in several Bond films including The Spy Who Loved Me, the theme of which was written by Marvin Hamlisch.
Anyhoo, moving on....
The concert was brilliant, but it was like an all time high which suddenly ended when we realised we had to walk back to that hotel.
After a restless night, we arose early and made our way to the station where we breakfasted at Le Pain Quotidien. I highly recommend this option, their organic bread and preserves were yummy!
Arriving back in Nottingham, Mrs B went her way and I mine as we had separate tasks to accomplish - but as I drove back to Mansfield I listened to the discussion on the radio about how BBC2 will be changed because of cutbacks - 56% of their output will be repeats.
People were phoning in with their suggestions for repeats they would like to see, Poldark was a front runner, as was I Claudius...which starred Derek Jacobi and George Baker as Tiberius.
And then here we are, Saturday morning and Mrs B is booing the French as they thrash England and I am reflecting on this week, life and death and now what comes next?
For me and Mrs B, another busy week. I have work and I also will be down in London on Tuesday to record a show which will be broadcast on Radio 4 (more details nearer the date of airing) and then on the weekend we are back in London to see Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones in Driving Miss Daisy.
This is what life is about - enjoying the chances you have.
We can't change the sadness that death brings but whilst we are alive we should try and live.
Rest in peace George -
George in I, Claudius
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Teach or Preach?
Hello dear things, how the devil are you this fine day?
I have a quiz for you all and I expect you to give it your fullest attention and no cheating by reading down the blog to get the answers!
What connects the following and where do the words come from?
Whilst you think about the answer let me tell you that this morning I was once again called upon to bring order to the universe by adding just a smidgeon of common sense and wisdom to a radio debate about god in school.
The question posed was, should god be allowed in school and my initial thought was that he should only be allowed in if he has a current Police check.
Only jesting my little lemmings, he might pass a Police check but as for his son, well that's another question. He asked for little children to come unto him and I don't think head teachers should allow that in school. (Catholics might take exception here).
The real point of this drivel is to explore the relevance of a collective act of worship in school, which is set down in law as something that should take place although a survey discovered that it doesn't - well not much.
Back to the radio where the argument for worship, and specifically Christian worship, was advanced by a lady vicar - not many of them in the Christian bible! The case against was delivered by a very grumpy member of the Secular Society who blames religion for all the worlds wrongs.
There were others who added their own thoughts, 'normal people' whose opinions should not be allowed on the BBC. The majority seemed to suggest that singing hymns and saying prayers in school prevented this country turning into a moral desert. Balderdash!
My few well chosen words of wisdom suggested that most people are moderate in their approach to this argument, but that the elevation of a Christian ethos as being more significant than any other was arrogant - that was the word I used my children; arrogant.
I suggested that a 'teach not preach' stance was probably what most people would find acceptable. Teach young people about various philosophies and religions and allow them to make up their mind - don't confuse the issue by saying there are many different ways to live but in this school we pray to Jesus because if you don't you're not British nor law abiding!
Some with a strong anti-religious view point will often say that children are born atheist and that enforced acts of worship are child abuse. That devalues the damage of real abuse so I don't subscribe to that argument.
It also strikes me as too simplistic and I don't really see how a baby can make the decision not to believe in something they are not yet aware of!
It's like saying I don't like the taste of marmite without ever having it in your mouth. If you like it you can swallow it, as some swallow religion.
Some would say we are all born with the love of god in our soul - and it would seem from recent scientific research that mankind as a species has developed a sense of common humanity and decency in that we want to support each other. But goodness does not lie solely within the purview of god - the Christian god that is.
We are all born with the capacity to think and learn and again, for me, this makes 'teach not preach' a good way forward. Give young people information and let them make a reasoned decision.
In America, religion is not allowed in school. The law states that actions in schools should 'neither advance nor inhibit religion'. Religion is still quite big in America, so keeping it out of the classroom doesn't seem to affect it adversely.
Let us drift back in time, to that little village where I raised. When I was a tiny little guru I went to a C of E school and we sang hymns to Jesus and we said prayers and the local vicar, Basil Spencer, came into the classroom and spoke to us about the bible. Singing those hymns and saying those prayers did not stop me in later life from making a decision to live without god, so I suppose you could argue that I am living proof that collective acts of worship might not be totally harmful?
But at school we were never taught about Hinduism, Buddhism, Shintoism, Sikhism, Islam, Judaism or Humanism - we were given no choice and again this is why I have an issue with the arrogance and power of an established church in England.
What I can never know is what might have happened in my life if I was told at ten or twelve that it was OK to think about living a life without god.
What I was unable to discover until much later in life is that life without god can be a life of value.
I believe my life is an equally moral life when compared to some of the hypocrites who drag their sorry arses to church each Sunday.
Ranting about moral deserts and how Hitler never sang Away In A Manger and that's what made him evil - well that doesn't really do anyone any good.
By the way, I'm really fed up with being compared with Hitler and Stalin just because I don't believe in god - yes they were not the nicest of men but let me offer for your consideration the actions of some real god fearing fellows, from history we have Torquemada and then a more recent addition to the Christians who kill brigade - Anders Behring Breivik.
Anyway, the answer to the questions - they are all lines from hymns I still recall singing at school:
Off you go now, you well informed rascals. Go out into the world and spread the word of Teach not Preach...if that's what you decide to do!
I have a quiz for you all and I expect you to give it your fullest attention and no cheating by reading down the blog to get the answers!
What connects the following and where do the words come from?
- The sword of my youth
- Strong hands skilled at the plane and the lathe
- The cold wind in the winter
- The verge of Jordan
- My table
- A mighty army
- Toil and tribulation
Whilst you think about the answer let me tell you that this morning I was once again called upon to bring order to the universe by adding just a smidgeon of common sense and wisdom to a radio debate about god in school.
The question posed was, should god be allowed in school and my initial thought was that he should only be allowed in if he has a current Police check.
Only jesting my little lemmings, he might pass a Police check but as for his son, well that's another question. He asked for little children to come unto him and I don't think head teachers should allow that in school. (Catholics might take exception here).
The real point of this drivel is to explore the relevance of a collective act of worship in school, which is set down in law as something that should take place although a survey discovered that it doesn't - well not much.
Back to the radio where the argument for worship, and specifically Christian worship, was advanced by a lady vicar - not many of them in the Christian bible! The case against was delivered by a very grumpy member of the Secular Society who blames religion for all the worlds wrongs.
There were others who added their own thoughts, 'normal people' whose opinions should not be allowed on the BBC. The majority seemed to suggest that singing hymns and saying prayers in school prevented this country turning into a moral desert. Balderdash!
My few well chosen words of wisdom suggested that most people are moderate in their approach to this argument, but that the elevation of a Christian ethos as being more significant than any other was arrogant - that was the word I used my children; arrogant.
I suggested that a 'teach not preach' stance was probably what most people would find acceptable. Teach young people about various philosophies and religions and allow them to make up their mind - don't confuse the issue by saying there are many different ways to live but in this school we pray to Jesus because if you don't you're not British nor law abiding!
Some with a strong anti-religious view point will often say that children are born atheist and that enforced acts of worship are child abuse. That devalues the damage of real abuse so I don't subscribe to that argument.
It also strikes me as too simplistic and I don't really see how a baby can make the decision not to believe in something they are not yet aware of!
It's like saying I don't like the taste of marmite without ever having it in your mouth. If you like it you can swallow it, as some swallow religion.
Some would say we are all born with the love of god in our soul - and it would seem from recent scientific research that mankind as a species has developed a sense of common humanity and decency in that we want to support each other. But goodness does not lie solely within the purview of god - the Christian god that is.
We are all born with the capacity to think and learn and again, for me, this makes 'teach not preach' a good way forward. Give young people information and let them make a reasoned decision.
In America, religion is not allowed in school. The law states that actions in schools should 'neither advance nor inhibit religion'. Religion is still quite big in America, so keeping it out of the classroom doesn't seem to affect it adversely.
Let us drift back in time, to that little village where I raised. When I was a tiny little guru I went to a C of E school and we sang hymns to Jesus and we said prayers and the local vicar, Basil Spencer, came into the classroom and spoke to us about the bible. Singing those hymns and saying those prayers did not stop me in later life from making a decision to live without god, so I suppose you could argue that I am living proof that collective acts of worship might not be totally harmful?
But at school we were never taught about Hinduism, Buddhism, Shintoism, Sikhism, Islam, Judaism or Humanism - we were given no choice and again this is why I have an issue with the arrogance and power of an established church in England.
What I can never know is what might have happened in my life if I was told at ten or twelve that it was OK to think about living a life without god.
What I was unable to discover until much later in life is that life without god can be a life of value.
I believe my life is an equally moral life when compared to some of the hypocrites who drag their sorry arses to church each Sunday.
Ranting about moral deserts and how Hitler never sang Away In A Manger and that's what made him evil - well that doesn't really do anyone any good.
By the way, I'm really fed up with being compared with Hitler and Stalin just because I don't believe in god - yes they were not the nicest of men but let me offer for your consideration the actions of some real god fearing fellows, from history we have Torquemada and then a more recent addition to the Christians who kill brigade - Anders Behring Breivik.
Anyway, the answer to the questions - they are all lines from hymns I still recall singing at school:
- When A knight won his spurs
- Lord of all hopefulness
- All things bright and beautiful ( which should be banned as it is creationist propaganda)
- Guide me O thou great redeemer
- The Lord's my shepherd
- Onward Christian soldiers
- The churches one foundation
Off you go now, you well informed rascals. Go out into the world and spread the word of Teach not Preach...if that's what you decide to do!
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Soggy Sunday
Greetings my moist minions...the misty rain of despair is falling across the land and the car decided that 7am on a Sunday morning would be a good time to conk out!
Sorry to say that meant letting down the lovely Sarah Julian at BBC Radio Nottingham, but she had a kind word for me broadcasting to the world (or that part of the world that was awake and within the stations broadcast area) that I was a 'lovely Humanist from Mansfield'. That cheered me up for a while, then a second cup of tea tipped me from suicidal to mere melancholia.
I was looking forward to reviewing the papers but instead I sit at home, the chocolate shadow at my feet, pondering my next move.
My mood lifted again when I spread some extra marmalade on my toast and got another cup of tea and sat down to watch Doctor Who. I had recorded it last night, and I must congratulate Mark Gatiss on his witty and scary tale, this really is what Doctor Who should be about, in my opinion.
I did not watch it last night as I was giving Red or Black a chance to impress - it failed. Likewise X Factor is becoming terribly predictable and the lack of real talent is evident. Half decent singers with a nice back story might give Louis Walsh a lump in his throat, but it won't put money in the bank I fear.
I was beginning to think the evening would be a total wash out when the clock ticked around to 9.15pm and BBC2 came to the rescue with the John Wilson Orchestra and its Hooray For Hollywood concert, recorded at The Royal Albert Hall as part of this years Proms.
Two wonderful hours filled with great movie music, with me trying to sing along. However, Dave the chocolate shadow did not approve of my singing and tried to sit on my face. Everyone's a critic!
This was middle class heaven, I managed to successfully assault and defeat a bottle of Pinot and whilst listening to the music I pictured the scene later in the year when Mrs B and I will be sitting in the Royal Concert Hall Nottingham, hearing the concert LIVE!
Talking of class, yesterday I got invited to the Chatsworth Country Fair, with a Members badge at my disposal. Some of the Members were straight out of the Country Life book of stereotypes, dressed in tweeds of varying colours, talking very loud about all sorts of rubbish and basically only stopping to draw breath as the Duke and Duchess passed by.
We ignored them as best we could, although their noise made hearing announcements through the loudspeakers impossible.
Dave enjoyed himself, he had an ice cream and we sat in the Members enclosure and watched the Scurry racing, the birds of prey display and then the Parade of Hounds...men in their red jackets with little trumpets tooting out the instructions to a pack of rascally Beagles, some mournful looking Blood Hounds and finally the Fox Hounds themselves.
The main parade ring was well fenced to keep them all in and there were a few gates to allow people access and egress and being a country lad myself I understand what gates are for. You open them, walk through and then close it behind you. Not these toffee nosed, loud mouthed, Rupert Bears - they walked through with champagne flutes in hand saying in a loud voice - 'fetch me a hound, NOW!'
The result, several beagles and hounds made their bid for freedom - they were eventually rounded up and the Rupert's went back to grab some more salmon sandwiches and a drop more champers.
That was yesterday, now for the rest of today - Sunday stretches ahead of me.
Mrs B is visiting family and I will meet up with her later after a work related visit to Hardy Barn - no, I've never heard of it either!
Dave will want to go to the park at some point but unless the rain buggers off he'll not got me out of the door...it might have to be a marathon Murder, She Wrote day.
Enjoy your Sunday
Sorry to say that meant letting down the lovely Sarah Julian at BBC Radio Nottingham, but she had a kind word for me broadcasting to the world (or that part of the world that was awake and within the stations broadcast area) that I was a 'lovely Humanist from Mansfield'. That cheered me up for a while, then a second cup of tea tipped me from suicidal to mere melancholia.
I was looking forward to reviewing the papers but instead I sit at home, the chocolate shadow at my feet, pondering my next move.
My mood lifted again when I spread some extra marmalade on my toast and got another cup of tea and sat down to watch Doctor Who. I had recorded it last night, and I must congratulate Mark Gatiss on his witty and scary tale, this really is what Doctor Who should be about, in my opinion.
I did not watch it last night as I was giving Red or Black a chance to impress - it failed. Likewise X Factor is becoming terribly predictable and the lack of real talent is evident. Half decent singers with a nice back story might give Louis Walsh a lump in his throat, but it won't put money in the bank I fear.
I was beginning to think the evening would be a total wash out when the clock ticked around to 9.15pm and BBC2 came to the rescue with the John Wilson Orchestra and its Hooray For Hollywood concert, recorded at The Royal Albert Hall as part of this years Proms.
Two wonderful hours filled with great movie music, with me trying to sing along. However, Dave the chocolate shadow did not approve of my singing and tried to sit on my face. Everyone's a critic!
This was middle class heaven, I managed to successfully assault and defeat a bottle of Pinot and whilst listening to the music I pictured the scene later in the year when Mrs B and I will be sitting in the Royal Concert Hall Nottingham, hearing the concert LIVE!
Talking of class, yesterday I got invited to the Chatsworth Country Fair, with a Members badge at my disposal. Some of the Members were straight out of the Country Life book of stereotypes, dressed in tweeds of varying colours, talking very loud about all sorts of rubbish and basically only stopping to draw breath as the Duke and Duchess passed by.
We ignored them as best we could, although their noise made hearing announcements through the loudspeakers impossible.
Dave enjoyed himself, he had an ice cream and we sat in the Members enclosure and watched the Scurry racing, the birds of prey display and then the Parade of Hounds...men in their red jackets with little trumpets tooting out the instructions to a pack of rascally Beagles, some mournful looking Blood Hounds and finally the Fox Hounds themselves.
The main parade ring was well fenced to keep them all in and there were a few gates to allow people access and egress and being a country lad myself I understand what gates are for. You open them, walk through and then close it behind you. Not these toffee nosed, loud mouthed, Rupert Bears - they walked through with champagne flutes in hand saying in a loud voice - 'fetch me a hound, NOW!'
The result, several beagles and hounds made their bid for freedom - they were eventually rounded up and the Rupert's went back to grab some more salmon sandwiches and a drop more champers.
That was yesterday, now for the rest of today - Sunday stretches ahead of me.
Mrs B is visiting family and I will meet up with her later after a work related visit to Hardy Barn - no, I've never heard of it either!
Dave will want to go to the park at some point but unless the rain buggers off he'll not got me out of the door...it might have to be a marathon Murder, She Wrote day.
Enjoy your Sunday
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Is it worth the effort?
Greetings, my ever shrinking band of followers - I am considering whether the end is nigh?
On Tuesday morning I managed to drag my aged bottom into the BBC Radio Nottingham studio, where I sat with local novelist and academic, Nicola Monaghan. We were there to discuss the weekends news stories with our host Mark Dennison, ably supported by his production team of James and Lewis.
We talked about Libya and housing and school uniforms and other more frivolous matters and I think the whole thing went OK, but in an off-air conversation, Nicola told me that she had read my blog...oh dear.
Someone who makes a living writing, someone who has published several novels and has a new one on the way, someone who leads the creative writing BA course at The University of Nottingham...she read my blog.
I only ever expected a few people, close friends and family members, to actually find time in their day to wade through the rubbish I commit to this blog - but there have been times when I have reached a wider audience.
A blog entry about Mrs B making me clean the cupboards out was a smash hit with hundreds of readers from around the world. I still have not worked out why people were so keen to hear about Mrs B's Marmite or my collection of pepper.
As I make an effort to re-read some of my previous outpourings of wisdom, I note how the blog has changed, with many silly attempts at humour and occasionally a very serious and worthy piece about something that has disturbed the aura of the Guru.
Anyway, Nicola said some quite nice things about the blogs, which in itself unsettled the aura...and you are never quite sure if comments are made out of pure politeness. That is not to say that for a moment my head swelled ever so slightly, but it did make me re-evaluate whether this was something that I should now put away, having reached a possible zenith in my linguistic meanderings.
Perhaps the time has come for the Guru to drift into retirement and solitude, hermit like to live out the remainder of my days in my little office, typing no more than 140 characters to those Twitterers who I have entranced with my false humility?
Rest on my laurels and reflect on a glorious past in the same way that an ageing Bruce Wayne would eventually have to hang up his cape and recall the echoes of past battles with The Joker and his minions.
But then I thought, NO!
I do not write these blogs just so that they will be read, although I will share them and make them available hoping that someone makes the effort!
The fact is that of my 127 Facebook friends only a a small percentage read the blog, that is a choice they make and I have no problems with anyone choosing what they spend their time doing, but you could read this blog and still have time to look at porn before Blue Peter starts!
I write the blogs for me - and for a small but loyal band of feeble minded muppets who have nothing better to do with their time than read the brain snot of a self styled Guru, who conceals behind that facade, the real face of the author.
Oh yes, the real me peeks out occasionally, but in truth the sarcastic,witless, politically incorrect Guru gives me the cover to be a little outrageous.
This blog is heading nowhere fast, so perhaps I should just say that writing this entry has allowed me to clarify in my own mind that I should continue to write when I have something to say, I will also continue to write when I have nothing to say because I say nothing better than anyone I know!
Yes, be not troubled my faithful followers - even if no one hears this tree falling in the forest, I'm going to keep my chopper in my hand.
Enjoy reading the blog, if you don't read it who cares - and if you read it and you do enjoy it, keep it to yourself otherwise men in white coats might be dispatched!
Phone rings...Hello
BBC Nottingham, Sunday morning, newspaper review,7.50am, don't be late!
The Guru is back in business!
On Tuesday morning I managed to drag my aged bottom into the BBC Radio Nottingham studio, where I sat with local novelist and academic, Nicola Monaghan. We were there to discuss the weekends news stories with our host Mark Dennison, ably supported by his production team of James and Lewis.
We talked about Libya and housing and school uniforms and other more frivolous matters and I think the whole thing went OK, but in an off-air conversation, Nicola told me that she had read my blog...oh dear.
Someone who makes a living writing, someone who has published several novels and has a new one on the way, someone who leads the creative writing BA course at The University of Nottingham...she read my blog.
I only ever expected a few people, close friends and family members, to actually find time in their day to wade through the rubbish I commit to this blog - but there have been times when I have reached a wider audience.
A blog entry about Mrs B making me clean the cupboards out was a smash hit with hundreds of readers from around the world. I still have not worked out why people were so keen to hear about Mrs B's Marmite or my collection of pepper.
As I make an effort to re-read some of my previous outpourings of wisdom, I note how the blog has changed, with many silly attempts at humour and occasionally a very serious and worthy piece about something that has disturbed the aura of the Guru.
Anyway, Nicola said some quite nice things about the blogs, which in itself unsettled the aura...and you are never quite sure if comments are made out of pure politeness. That is not to say that for a moment my head swelled ever so slightly, but it did make me re-evaluate whether this was something that I should now put away, having reached a possible zenith in my linguistic meanderings.
Perhaps the time has come for the Guru to drift into retirement and solitude, hermit like to live out the remainder of my days in my little office, typing no more than 140 characters to those Twitterers who I have entranced with my false humility?
Rest on my laurels and reflect on a glorious past in the same way that an ageing Bruce Wayne would eventually have to hang up his cape and recall the echoes of past battles with The Joker and his minions.
But then I thought, NO!
I do not write these blogs just so that they will be read, although I will share them and make them available hoping that someone makes the effort!
The fact is that of my 127 Facebook friends only a a small percentage read the blog, that is a choice they make and I have no problems with anyone choosing what they spend their time doing, but you could read this blog and still have time to look at porn before Blue Peter starts!
I write the blogs for me - and for a small but loyal band of feeble minded muppets who have nothing better to do with their time than read the brain snot of a self styled Guru, who conceals behind that facade, the real face of the author.
Oh yes, the real me peeks out occasionally, but in truth the sarcastic,witless, politically incorrect Guru gives me the cover to be a little outrageous.
This blog is heading nowhere fast, so perhaps I should just say that writing this entry has allowed me to clarify in my own mind that I should continue to write when I have something to say, I will also continue to write when I have nothing to say because I say nothing better than anyone I know!
Yes, be not troubled my faithful followers - even if no one hears this tree falling in the forest, I'm going to keep my chopper in my hand.
Enjoy reading the blog, if you don't read it who cares - and if you read it and you do enjoy it, keep it to yourself otherwise men in white coats might be dispatched!
Phone rings...Hello
BBC Nottingham, Sunday morning, newspaper review,7.50am, don't be late!
The Guru is back in business!
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