Saturday 18 January 2020

Life Upon The Wicked Stage

January 18th

Life Upon The Wicked Stage

Have I ever mentioned I love going to the theatre?

Mrs B & I are heading to Sheffield today to visit one of my favourite theatres, The Crucible.  We shall be seeing a production of Guys and Dolls. I’ve heard only good things about it but then again Alex Young is in it and she’s like a lucky charm for me. I can honesty say I’ve never seen any show in which she was cast, that wasn’t amazing. From Follies to Sky’s Edge - all top drawer stuff.

I’d love to have been in a production of Guys and Dolls, it’s on a list entitled ‘Regrets’, along with not learning to play the piano or to tap dance.  I think I have the physique to have made a good Nicely-Nicely Johnson, but sadly I don’t have the voice to match.

My acting career (everybody laugh) did give me a few chances to appear in plays that were great favourites, but I’d have loved the chance to play Hector in The History Boys or Henry Drummond in Inherit The Wind.

But I’ll be content having played Goldberg in The Birthday Party, Thomas Milburn in Close The Coal House Door, and Juror 11 in 12 Angry Men.


12 Angry Men was the first play I appeared in after moving to live in Mansfield. My recollection of being cast is a little hazy now but I think one of the other actors in the play would occasionally visit the shop where I was working at the time…yes, I was a shop assistant for a while.

I think the conversation came around to them staging 12 Angry Men and how they were looking for people to audition and so I offered my services and was apparently the only one who could manage the middle European accent required of the character. I got the part and in a way that changed the direction of my life because I then also decided to became a mature student and study performing arts! HND Distinction.

The production was extremely well put together and around that table I met a range of actors with varying levels of experience and expertise but we all worked so well together and my friendship with Juror 12 (who won’t be reading this) started around that jury room table. I have lost touch with so many of them but I guess that happens doesn’t it?

The reason this has come to the forefront of my mind today is twofold.

First of all, I ran into Juror 4 yesterday. I hadn’t seen him for years and it was nice to have a quick chat.

The other reason is that it’s around three years since Juror 6 died. Such a sad thing to have happened.


He had worked at The Crucible as part of the stage crew and on the day we learned of his death we went there to see Anna-Jane Casey give a wonderful ‘Audience with’. She was starring in Annie Get Your Gun which we had seen the week previously.

All of these memories are washing around in my head and I guess you could get a little maudlin but actually there is only happy memories associated with that production of 12 Angry Men, so I’m just sticking to the good stuff.

It may well be that I never set foot on a stage again and although I do have regrets they are nowhere near as important to me as the joy I often found being someone else on a stage for a couple of hours.

It was fun. (Just don’t ask me about Romeo and Juliet)



Friday 17 January 2020

Hello!

January 17th

Hello!

I’m doing some research on Unitarians, because after someone commended me on my delivery of a funeral ceremony, they added I’d make an excellent Unitarian.

I smiled and thanked them of course as I was raised to be polite, but I must admit without reading up on the Unitarian philosophy I wouldn’t have a clue if I was being appreciated or insulted!

Now it turns out there is a Unitarian meeting house in Mansfield so I might have to pop along at some point and find out first hand what’s going on but as I already read it involves hymns and prayers then I’m not sure it’ll be my cup of tea…although they do give you a cup of tea and a biscuit afterwards. I thought they only did that when they took your blood!

I wonder if they wear robes? I think I’d look good in robes. Not keen on a dog collar, nobody would see it anyway as my chins would hide it.

They don’t do wine and wafers I’m guessing as they don’t do the whole Jesus thing so no sneaking sacramental wine under my new robes for later consumption.

Not sure about a calling from god, more a calling for robes that has me hooked…oh well, I’ll read up some more and report back at some point.

You’re never too old to learn something new and you should never stop asking questions about your place in the world. My thoughts on religion have changed markedly over the years and I feel mostly satisfied with agnosticism and Humanism, but who knows what might happen when you allow yourself to be open to the possibilities?

I don’t expect a full scale conversion like some of my friends, and you won’t find me knocking at your door saying ‘Hello, my name is Elder Baxter’…


I have a confession to make.  Not in a Catholic way, I’m not fiddling with my beads as I lie in bed writing this;  I just wanted to confess that as a regular theatre going man and musical theatre junkie, it’s hard to explain why I’ve never seen the Book of Mormon.

Well I’m making amends and I’ve booked tickets to see the show when it arrives in Nottingham later this year.

I had a little session of theatre booking yesterday, found a little spare cash and decided to treat Mrs B to tickets to see Matthew Bourne’s ‘The Red Shoes’ plus I’ve booked to see ‘The Addams Family’ musical again, without knowing who will be in the cast. (Fingers crossed).

It’s also the year when I finally get around to seeing Phantom of the Opera. Now don’t judge me too harshly, there must be a reason why at sometime in the last 34 years I didn’t manage to secure a ticket.

Is Michael Crawford still in it?

I suppose there are lots of shows I have yet to see, like Matilda, Wicked, The Lion King and The Mousetrap but having seen Les Miserable more than once and having booked to see A Christmas Carol for a third time, I think it balances out.

This confessing thing is great! I haven’t seen Fleabag or The Crown or Peaky Blinders!

I don’t make this admission with the intention of wearing it like a badge of honour like the Game of Thrones or Star Wars haters would, it’s just that I never got around to it.

Too busy watching NCIS.

Well that’s it for today.

PS: There’s a squirrel in the garden.




Thursday 16 January 2020

The Rhythm Of Life

January 16th

The Rhythm Of Life

When you’ve been to the edge you at least know where it  is…

It was most kind of those of you who made comments about yesterday’s blog. All the nice things you said in such a supportive manner, all true of course and accepted with due humility.

I’ve never been short of good wishes but let me once again express this thought before we move on. I currently have the mindset which although noticing the praise, still expects disaster to call at any moment. Pessimist? Anxiety? Whatever, I’m fine but thank you.

Talking is good, but sitting quietly and listening is good too. Whether that be to people who need to get things off their chest or to the best medicine in the world…music.

Last night I sat in the audience at the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham to hear the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by John Wilson. The concert was entitled Discovering Vaughan Williams, and we began with a wonderfully illuminating guide to his Symphony No 6, which the orchestra played in the second half. Stephen Johnson spoke with such apparent knowledge and passion, explaining the history of the piece and how it was received upon its completion in 1948.

As he spoke, his thoughts were highlighted by excerpts played by the orchestra.

I was enthralled and it took me back to my school days in the early 1970’s, when my music teacher, Mrs Bird, played for us Mendelssohn’s Hebrides Overture (Fingal's Cave). I shall never regret picking music as one of my O Level subjects and my passion for music, although born much earlier, was sealed as she spoke so knowledgeably and enthusiastically about the composer and the themes explored in his work.

I only wish that the audience last night had more young people in it, to discover the joy of music and the motivations of those who create it. And to those who think they don’t like classical music, well if you like film scores by John Williams or Jerry Goldsmith, you’ll like Vaughan Williams, even a somewhat challenging piece like his Sixth Symphony.

Vaughan Williams was a composer we also studied, his Fantasia on Greensleeves and The Lark Ascending were the pieces I recalled from school days, but I wasn’t aware then but I’d already crossed paths with the one of his themes from the Sixth Symphony as it was used as the theme to A Family At War (1970 - 1972).

A Family At War


Of course, the symphony is much more complex and turbulent than this lovely lilting melody would have you suspect and hearing it played last night reinvigorated my interest in the composer.


But the real revelation last night was the piece the orchestra played before the interval, entitled ‘In The Fen Country’. Described by the composer as a “symphonic impression”, it again summons up images from my childhood as I was born in the Fenlands and knew those great bleak expanses so well.

If you have 15 minutes to spare, I invite you to listen to it.


In The Fen Country




It’s now added to my list of favourite classical pieces.

I’m convinced that music is great therapy, and there are pieces I turn to when I need to feel joy or shed a tear.

Here are three of the classical pieces I love ( there are many non classical pieces of course, Sondheim being my mainstay)  and here are links if you want to hear them, but I’d be really interested to hear your personal choices of musical medicine.

All of these pieces are very accessible I promise you…I left the Mahler out!



Solveig's Song by Grieg

Poulenc: Gloria (6) Qui sedes...

Saint-Saƫns - Symphony 3 (Finale)









Wednesday 15 January 2020

Company Way

January 15th

Company Way

I officiated at a ceremony the other day and at the end, as people were making their way out of the chapel, I was approached by a man and a woman who first of all thanked me for the service and then asked if I had a business card they could have.

It transpired that the gentleman’s mum had died the day before and having seen the type of ceremony I delivered, he wanted me to help with the arrangements for his mum.

That’s very flattering of course and after all these years working as a celebrant I still need that occasional boost to my confidence, to know that what you do, and how you do it, is valued by people.

Of course I promised that I would help the bereaved man if at all possible but I apologised that I couldn’t give him my business card as I don’t carry them at work.

It’s always feels a little tacky to me, as if you are touting for trade. I know other celebrants take a different view and I’m not saying I’m right or that they are wrong to have logos all over their cars for example, it is their choice of course. They are probably more comfortable with the business side of the work than I am.


That’s always been a dichotomy for me in my work, a tension between it being work, a business that pays the bills, and then the side which is such a very personal and human interaction. A contract built on trust.

I’m glad I’m paid via the funeral directors because I know for a fact that if families paid me directly and maybe someone forgot, then I’d never be able to chase them for money. It takes me all my time to remind FD’s when they forget!

I do have business cards, I leave them with families after that initial visit so they can keep in touch before the ceremony, in case they think of other things I need to know for example.

I do have a website but I never update it and I’m actually thinking of taking it down this year.

Someone once said that getting paid to do something you enjoy doesn’t seem like work, however the tax man disagrees so there is that side of the business that has to be attended to.

I think I may well have revealed in an earlier blog that I’m struggling emotionally and physically with work at the moment. I’ve lost confidence in my ability to be of use. I almost gave up work altogether, but when you’re approached and complimented and people want you to help them it is a real boost to your ego and self esteem. But there comes a point where you still have doubts.


The danger is that if you get negative feedback it can be devastating and all the good you might have done is forgotten.

Business cards, corporate branding and advertising cannot repair that.

I think that after dealing with so many vulnerable people over so many years, my own professional veneer is wearing away. And maybe the biggest fear now is expecting that time when I get it wrong and how devastating that will be for a bereaved family.

In truth, this realisation has opened up some old wounds from many years ago, times when I believe I let people down and the outcome was tragic.

Why is it that my memory is so bad at recalling the good times and yet so good at recalling the bad?

Everyday a new battle, but onward we go…another family awaits my services today.

Business as usual.




Tuesday 14 January 2020

Think

January 14th

Think

I had a long chat with a bereaved family recently about how angry they were to discover that a beloved family member had died…via a Facebook post.

What made it worse is that the person who posted the news wasn’t even particularly close to the family.

My initial thought on the issue was that for many people social media exists to put ‘you’ at the centre of your universe.   You don’t think about the feelings of others, you just post things because it says something about you.  I may well have been guilty of this sin myself.

I’m hoping that many of your are thinking that you’d never post such a personal thing, especially when it affects others much more deeply than it affects you.  Good, that’s probably why your Facebook friends with me, because you are thoughtful and considerate of others.

Social media is something that I have a ‘love/not love' relationship with, especially as there is so much hatred and fake news and bullying to be found there.

The reason I remain connected to the world in this way is because there are also many reasonable voices to be found on social media and it is wonderful to discover that you’re not alone in the world. I made this very point to one of my Facebook friends recently when she mentioned she had considered leaving. Voices of reason, voices raised in concern for the planet and all on it, people campaigning for the arts or education or mental health issues; these voices are needed to try and bring some balance.

I say, “Facebook friend”, and I have actually met the person in question three times, but sometimes it feels like  the words ‘Facebook friend’ might be considered an oxymoron. I mean how is it possible to be a friend of someone you have never met?

And yet people are now apparently rated by the number of ‘friends’ they have or the number of re-tweets they get or the number of views they receive.

But let’s be positive: I can now chat with people on forums and groups about many shared interests including the theatre. I can interact with and support organisations in their charitable work or funding arts projects.

So whilst the inappropriately swift and unthinking post about someone’s death is at one end of the spectrum of posts, at the other end is social media coverage of events that are a great boon to me and others. I can’t tell you how many good theatre tickets I have booked after seeing something posted on the internet!

And everyday  brings the chance for new and exciting people to welcome you into their world, whilst joining you in yours. People from all around the world, and different walks of life. People from the arts whose work you love, people who are held in high regard in their field and yet will exchange a few kind words with the likes of me.

For all its faults, social media has given me a chance to do things I might not have done and meet people I might never otherwise have met.

I guess the moral of this post, if morality is still a term people understand, is perhaps before we post anything, we might pause and think about how this will affect others. Step out of the centre of your universe and stand in someone else’s just for a bit.

I can be more succinct, in less than 140 characters even: Don’t post about someone being dead until you’re sure that the family are aware.

Thanks.




Monday 13 January 2020

A Car Ride

January 13th

A Car Ride

Back to work and on the road again. It’s Monday morning and I am heading towards Doncaster…ah the glamorous life.

It may well be that I venture onto a motorway and if I do I’m sure it won’t be long before I am wishing I had machine guns fitted to the front of my Skoda.

I’d glide up behind the dozy idiot doing 55 MPH in the third lane, there’s always one,  and I’d give them a quick shot up their exhaust pipe.

What do they think the other two lanes are for? Walking? Maybe horses and bicycles?

I don’t get road rage and you already know I’m professionally nice so I never gesture at people using just two fingers. I might offer a Paddington hard stare as I overtake them, but that’s about it.

And have you ever noticed when you do overtake the dreaded 3rd lane sitters, they all look like they have fallen into a coma? Hands planted very precisely at 10 & 2 on the steering wheel (imagine it’s a clock face) and staring straight ahead with a blank expression on their faces, they are totally unaware of what is going on around them…they are fixated on maintaining their course and speed whilst listening to their local BBC Radio station.


These are the same people who have trouble with roundabouts. And god forbid they come across a mini roundabout, they’d likely have a stroke!

There is one thing for sure, the vast majority of drivers think they are safe and would hate it if their driving skills were criticised or questioned. My guess is though, that every driver breaks the law at least once a week, if not more.

Mrs B will tell you, I’m not the best driver in the world, and I have two speeding convictions to prove it. Two speeding tickets in 30 plus years of driving isn’t bad is it?

Why is it that some law abiding citizens have a blind spot when it comes to speeding? People love to complain about the injustice of  speed cameras and those sneaky vans which catch you out when you’re doing 35 in a 30 limit.

But you only get caught if you’re breaking the law don’t you?

One day soon this will all be a thing of the past; with driverless cars we will all just climb in and sit back as we are taken to our final destination, safely and within the speed limit.

And someday in the future, cars will fly or maybe we will get our long promised personal jet packs?

 Finally we will arrive at the perfect Star Trek solution - the transporter.

Beam me to Doncaster Scotty!

Sorry Sir, it’ll be a wee while, there’s someone asleep on the third transporter pad.

Bugger!




Sunday 12 January 2020

Why Do the Wrong People Travel?

January 12th

Why Do the Wrong People Travel?

I need to renew my passport. As far as I know I don’t have any ancestry that allows me to dodge applying for a British passport so that’s what I’ll have to do.

The planning and taking of foreign holidays doesn’t occupy much of my time these days, I’m happy in Filey or Bamburgh, but we are planning a trip abroad later this year so a passport  will be required.

I was trying to recall how many times I’ve actually been abroad in my lifetime and I know the first time was a secondary school trip to Le TrĆ©port in France. We also went to Middelkerke in Belgium with school and I remember we had mayonnaise on our chips. I think in that moment I became middle class.

I’ve been on skiing holidays to Bulgaria and Italy. In Bulgaria I acquired a taste for red wine, 30p a bottle. Russian champagne was less than a quid I think and we did drink an awful lot of the stuff as the food was bloody awful.

You had to queue each night for dinner, and us Brits all queued as you would expect, a nice orderly line, only to find the Germans rushing past you when the bell went. Sorry about the racial stereotyping but this is a true story.


We did laugh when one particularly rude woman fell up the steps and split her knee open. Not pleasant of us I know, but as we laughed and stepped around her prone and bleeding body, we had but one thought in mind…we must get to the salad bar!

The reason: well you had to fill your plate with salad and cheese because you knew that the ‘meat’ was going to taste of soap and the soup would be thinner than water - and usually had fish bones in it and an oil slick of grease floating on top. I think we lost weight on that holiday.

I also recall the fun we had exchanging our British notes for local currency, by surreptitiously passing it to our waiter under his napkin. Quite illegal but the only cabaret in town. You could also exchange cash on the ski slopes as there was usually a man hiding in a bush waiting to do you a great deal.

Italy is nice, we have been several times. We drove there once to go camping in Tuscany. Before SatNav, and with Mrs B not being the best map reader, we did end up taking a small detour into Germany when we should have hit Switzerland. Anyway we got there and Tuscany still holds a special place in our hearts.

I have visited the USA five times including a fly drive holiday, and another detour which found us in the middle of the US Rangers winter warfare training camp! We rode on cable cars in San Francisco, with Diana Ross…that’s a story for another day.



I also rode a horse called Buck; this was in Bryce Canyon National Park. I’m not a confident horseman so they gave me this old plodder to ride. As we meandered through the beautiful scenery and along the path around the edge of the canyon, our guide, Vern, told me that Buck got his name because he liked to kick up a fuss near the edge of the canyon, but only on a Saturday.

It was Saturday.

I sat very still.

I’m guessing Vern had a big grin on his face.

Vern was a man who looked after tourists in the summer and in the winter he tracked and tagged mountain lions. I was in awe.

On that trip we also visited Monument Valley, and I recall just standing, again in awe, remembering all the times I had watched John Wayne and other cowboys stars, riding through that magnificent setting. I picked up a rock and bought it home. I still have it.

We have been to islands and to cities, we have flown and sailed, we have had some lovely times and are lucky to have done so.

But now, I no longer have the desire to travel great distances. I don't like flying long haul, I don’t like flying short haul!


I don’t like the weather to be too hot, I’m not bothered if I ever see another sun bed.

I’d love to go to New Zealand, or maybe Canada, but if I don’t get there I don’t.

I’ll happily sit on a bench overlooking Whitby harbour and eat chips, and dodge seagulls, and think about all the wonderful places I did get to see on those past journeys.

As someone said to me the other day, “You’ve been around”.

Yes, I’ve been very lucky and all of those miles brought me so many smiles…and memories. Now you poor sods have to put up with these reminiscences!