Good morning my small but loyal band of followers - I hope the world finds you happy and full of love.
It's Wednesday, which in Mansfield means Chad Day, we get our weekly local newspaper.
No doubt one of the big stories will be the elevation of our humble MP, Alan Meale, to the rank of knight of the realm - Sir Alan Meale. I don't suppose the Chad will be able to report verbatim the wide range of responses to this news, because some of the words and phrases that were scattered among the Facebook and Twitter pages were less than happy and polite about this state of affairs.
I liked this comment, expressed on Twitter with the usual forthrightness of Mansfield folk:
"My local MP, Alan Meale, has received a knighthood, presumably for services to being a fat useless greedy toadying cunt". Chris @seismicshed Mansfield, UK
There were some rather negative comments about a life long socialist accepting the honour, class traitor, champagne socialist etc etc. There again, as a long time mate of John Prescott, sorry Lord Prescott, he must have thought what's good for the goose is good for the gander.
There were some whose comments reminded us about the allegations over his expenses; perhaps he got the award for services to garden sheds or garden centres and the like - here is the link to the telegraph article if you were not aware of the story:
Telegraph - Alan Meale
He ended up repaying more than £11,000 to the tax payer - but it was all a mistake I'm sure and in no way impugned his status as a man of the people, one of us - did it Sir Alan?
I have yet to meet or speak to anyone who has been positive about this honour and I have no doubt that he will sell it as being for the people of Mansfield - load of rubbish!
I don't mind if Brucie gets his knighthood, he has at least added something to the gaiety of the nation, and I don't mind the lollipop lady getting her MBE for throwing children across the road for 87 years, but when public servants are rewarded for doing their job, it really sticks in my throat.
They get paid a very good wage, they have a very generous pension provision and then they expect some gong or other status lift that will enable them to feel just that little bit more special than the people who elected them.
I'm not a socialist, but I think that a truly meritocratic system should reward all equally for the service they offer - so why not see Dame Elsie Lollipop Lady and Alan Meale MBE?
You chose to enter politics, you get paid for it, you get expenses, you get a pension - why do you need or deserve a knighthood or elevation to the Lords?
Anyway, moving on, I shall await the coverage and no doubt report back - likewise I await the coverage of the 'I Love Mansfield' campaign.
I have been negative in my responses to this campaign and some have asked why - well it's simple, I don't love Mansfield. I live here, I work here, I occasionally shop here but I don't love the place.
I think some of the people who live here are brilliant, strong minded, down to earth, refreshing in their take on life - but that's the people not the place.
I want to see a campaign that tackles the apathy of some in the community, that shows them that they can aspire to something better - and that something better could be built in Mansfield.
I best not go on about it as it upsets people but it is my honest opinion that any campaign to improve a town or part thereof, that does not tackle to needs of the inhabitants directly, will not have the desired result. Perhaps I will be proved wrong.
I must away now, my application to become a People's Peer has arrived - Lord High Guru of The Hill, sounds OK doesn't it?
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Friday, 10 June 2011
I'm Neither A Lady Nor A Tramp
Even though I do get too hungry to wait for dinner at eight, I love the theatre and I never get there late, I never really bother with people I dislike, I am a gentleman of high moral fibre. Do you think it would make a nice song lyric?
What's he on about now you all cry?
Theatre darling, theatre!
You know that Mrs B and I are real culture vultures, as I type this I have just booked tickets to see the John Wilson Orchestra at the Royal Centre in Nottingham later this year, in the pipeline we have tickets for John Barrowman, the John Barry memorial concert at The Albert Hall, we hope to see Lend Me A Tenor in the West End in a couple of weeks time, tickets are secured for Sweeney Todd at The Chichester Festival and already this week we saw Michael Ball at the Concert Hall in Nottingham.
I'm sure there are many in Mansfield, and other areas, who are not fortunate enough to have the resources which allows this degree of theatrical attendance, but I'm also sure that most live within reach of a local theatre group and this morning I want to motivate you all to find a local theatre group, see what they are doing and go treat yourselves to a night in the theatre - it's cheaper than the cinema!
Last night I paid my £6.50 and joined an almost capacity audience at my local theatre in Mansfield, The Palace. The play was Brassed Off and the cast was made up of members of the local community - some of whom I had acted with myself on many occasions.
With wonderful support from the Newstead Brass Band, the actors told the story of a community dealing with loss - the closure of the pit, the impact on family life and on individual self esteem.
It was a very rewarding experience and the play was a perfect choice for Mansfield, a town which has its own scars from the destruction and decline of the mining industry. The message of the piece resonated loud and clear for the audience who were all drawn into the story of the Grimley Brass Band and the community it came to represent.
Of course many would have seen the iconic portrayal of this story in the 1996 movie version which starred the late and very talented Pete Postlethwaite, but even if you had seen that film it didn't take long for this play and the characters within it to assert themselves. This was honest and straightforward story telling, done with great passion and skill.
I'm not going to try and tell you that everything was pitch perfect but that doesn't matter - the whole cast and crew produced something wonderful out of their combined efforts.
The idea that a community pulling together can in some way reestablish some sense of local pride not only inhabited the plot but the people who told the story - it was a very moving thing to witness.
It was good fun too, there were lots of 'laugh out loud' moments and then we had the beautiful music which heightened the sense of time and place, the Newstead Brass Band did themselves no disservice and may well win new fans.
Brassed Off is gritty, the language is the language of the man in the street, the people we see are all recognisable as our neighbours and work mates. The actors playing the roles ARE our neighbours and work mates - this is why I could sit through the play again and again, it was real.
I know that some of the actors feel they could have been better, they have said as much in their Facebook postings, but this is one time when being human and not being perfect actually was, well about as good as you can get. I can't tell you who was good and who was bad - I can only tell you the whole thing was bloody marvellous!
I can only hope that the level of customer satisfaction I got for my £6.50 will be repeated in the more expensive tickets that I have purchased - but I doubt it. I will enjoy all the shows in their own way but I don't think I will leave any of the venues with the same level of joy as I felt last night in Mansfield.
What's he on about now you all cry?
Theatre darling, theatre!
You know that Mrs B and I are real culture vultures, as I type this I have just booked tickets to see the John Wilson Orchestra at the Royal Centre in Nottingham later this year, in the pipeline we have tickets for John Barrowman, the John Barry memorial concert at The Albert Hall, we hope to see Lend Me A Tenor in the West End in a couple of weeks time, tickets are secured for Sweeney Todd at The Chichester Festival and already this week we saw Michael Ball at the Concert Hall in Nottingham.
I'm sure there are many in Mansfield, and other areas, who are not fortunate enough to have the resources which allows this degree of theatrical attendance, but I'm also sure that most live within reach of a local theatre group and this morning I want to motivate you all to find a local theatre group, see what they are doing and go treat yourselves to a night in the theatre - it's cheaper than the cinema!
Last night I paid my £6.50 and joined an almost capacity audience at my local theatre in Mansfield, The Palace. The play was Brassed Off and the cast was made up of members of the local community - some of whom I had acted with myself on many occasions.
With wonderful support from the Newstead Brass Band, the actors told the story of a community dealing with loss - the closure of the pit, the impact on family life and on individual self esteem.
It was a very rewarding experience and the play was a perfect choice for Mansfield, a town which has its own scars from the destruction and decline of the mining industry. The message of the piece resonated loud and clear for the audience who were all drawn into the story of the Grimley Brass Band and the community it came to represent.
Of course many would have seen the iconic portrayal of this story in the 1996 movie version which starred the late and very talented Pete Postlethwaite, but even if you had seen that film it didn't take long for this play and the characters within it to assert themselves. This was honest and straightforward story telling, done with great passion and skill.
I'm not going to try and tell you that everything was pitch perfect but that doesn't matter - the whole cast and crew produced something wonderful out of their combined efforts.
The idea that a community pulling together can in some way reestablish some sense of local pride not only inhabited the plot but the people who told the story - it was a very moving thing to witness.
It was good fun too, there were lots of 'laugh out loud' moments and then we had the beautiful music which heightened the sense of time and place, the Newstead Brass Band did themselves no disservice and may well win new fans.
Brassed Off is gritty, the language is the language of the man in the street, the people we see are all recognisable as our neighbours and work mates. The actors playing the roles ARE our neighbours and work mates - this is why I could sit through the play again and again, it was real.
I know that some of the actors feel they could have been better, they have said as much in their Facebook postings, but this is one time when being human and not being perfect actually was, well about as good as you can get. I can't tell you who was good and who was bad - I can only tell you the whole thing was bloody marvellous!
I can only hope that the level of customer satisfaction I got for my £6.50 will be repeated in the more expensive tickets that I have purchased - but I doubt it. I will enjoy all the shows in their own way but I don't think I will leave any of the venues with the same level of joy as I felt last night in Mansfield.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
This blog comes to you courtesy of Aspirin.
Hello and greetings to my coterie of confidantes, may I whisper in your ear?
I went to my bed feeling quite happy after seeing the dreams and plans of Simon Cowell swallowed up by the great British public and spat out all over the shiny suits and designer dresses that surrounded him on the BGT judges panel. They got it wrong and then in the height of ungraciousness they basically told the world we got it wrong! Amanda Holden couldn't wait to say out loud, Ronan should have won...even Ant and Dec had a little dig at poor old Jai.
I have said it before and I will say it again, if you want to make cash from punters voting don't be surprised if they sometimes remind you whose money it is.
I'm sure Ronan will find himself well looked after and poor Jai will have his day in the sun before joining Joe McElderry, Leon Jackson, Shayne Ward, Michelle McManus and countless others who the fickle British public loved for a little while before something shiny in the corner of the room took our attention and we forgot they ever existed.
Just as an aside, I'm probably the only one who remembers Ron Ely as Tarzan on the telly, but wasn't the little boy he worked with called Jai? I wonder if it is the same boy?
So, that was a nice end to a bad day, bad because I had one of my bouts of heart burn which really knocks the stuffing out of you.
Not being dead after my heart attack left me with a handful of medication that I have to take each day - I'm not alone in this I know, with pills for blood pressure and cholesterol and other things - six tablets a day including the dreaded aspirin.
I have a very delicate tummy and the aspirin irritates it quite badly and causes severe heart burn which is treated by one of the other six tablets I take, but occasionally the tablet seems to give up and the acid wins - the result is not good.
I'm sure that Simon Cowell has a similar feeling this morning....
You really have to be careful what you eat during such a bout but you know you have to eat so that the acid has something to work on other than your gullet. Dry bread with some wafer thin chicken - I really could have murdered a Rich Tea cream finger.
Anyway, feeling much better today, no butter on my crumpets and an extra cup of tea to help dilute the aspirin and let's keep our fingers crossed that it was a one day excursion into the ocean of pain, not the full cruise.
It is on days like today that I reflect how not being dead is quite good, but not as good as being alive - there is a difference.
In recent days some of my associates have been writing about milestone birthdays and how they want to set themselves goals and aim for new targets in their life - I used to think like that but now I think life is to short and unpredictable to be planned in that way - I just want to enjoy each day as best I can. I don't want to set myself up to fail and I don't want to put extra pressure on myself - we are like little fluffy ducklings on the tide of fate - we control so little of our lives that we should embrace where we are and who we are and then the next day do the same. You can maybe swim a little against the tide but be ready to say, OK - I'm here am I - what can I do here?
I still think we should have dreams and we should aspire to those dreams, like Jai, but most of us will be like Ronan, we will fall short and we should take the medicine, accept the occasional bout of pain and move on.
Now, go and have a nice day and remember this:
Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself and in surpassing itself. If all it does is maintain itself, then living is only not dying.
- Simone de Beauvoir
I went to my bed feeling quite happy after seeing the dreams and plans of Simon Cowell swallowed up by the great British public and spat out all over the shiny suits and designer dresses that surrounded him on the BGT judges panel. They got it wrong and then in the height of ungraciousness they basically told the world we got it wrong! Amanda Holden couldn't wait to say out loud, Ronan should have won...even Ant and Dec had a little dig at poor old Jai.
I have said it before and I will say it again, if you want to make cash from punters voting don't be surprised if they sometimes remind you whose money it is.
I'm sure Ronan will find himself well looked after and poor Jai will have his day in the sun before joining Joe McElderry, Leon Jackson, Shayne Ward, Michelle McManus and countless others who the fickle British public loved for a little while before something shiny in the corner of the room took our attention and we forgot they ever existed.
Just as an aside, I'm probably the only one who remembers Ron Ely as Tarzan on the telly, but wasn't the little boy he worked with called Jai? I wonder if it is the same boy?
So, that was a nice end to a bad day, bad because I had one of my bouts of heart burn which really knocks the stuffing out of you.
Not being dead after my heart attack left me with a handful of medication that I have to take each day - I'm not alone in this I know, with pills for blood pressure and cholesterol and other things - six tablets a day including the dreaded aspirin.
I have a very delicate tummy and the aspirin irritates it quite badly and causes severe heart burn which is treated by one of the other six tablets I take, but occasionally the tablet seems to give up and the acid wins - the result is not good.
I'm sure that Simon Cowell has a similar feeling this morning....
You really have to be careful what you eat during such a bout but you know you have to eat so that the acid has something to work on other than your gullet. Dry bread with some wafer thin chicken - I really could have murdered a Rich Tea cream finger.
Anyway, feeling much better today, no butter on my crumpets and an extra cup of tea to help dilute the aspirin and let's keep our fingers crossed that it was a one day excursion into the ocean of pain, not the full cruise.
It is on days like today that I reflect how not being dead is quite good, but not as good as being alive - there is a difference.
In recent days some of my associates have been writing about milestone birthdays and how they want to set themselves goals and aim for new targets in their life - I used to think like that but now I think life is to short and unpredictable to be planned in that way - I just want to enjoy each day as best I can. I don't want to set myself up to fail and I don't want to put extra pressure on myself - we are like little fluffy ducklings on the tide of fate - we control so little of our lives that we should embrace where we are and who we are and then the next day do the same. You can maybe swim a little against the tide but be ready to say, OK - I'm here am I - what can I do here?
I still think we should have dreams and we should aspire to those dreams, like Jai, but most of us will be like Ronan, we will fall short and we should take the medicine, accept the occasional bout of pain and move on.
Now, go and have a nice day and remember this:
Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself and in surpassing itself. If all it does is maintain itself, then living is only not dying.
- Simone de Beauvoir
Thursday, 26 May 2011
525600 Minutes...
...give or take a few. That's how long it has been since Jake left us.
He is missed everyday, like his brother, and although it saddens the heart to realise just how long he's been gone, the memories Mrs B and I have of him bring a smile.
How can we ever forget that day we walked into the kitchen to find him standing in the middle of the kitchen table, gently picking grapes out of the fruit bowl and devouring the lot!
He was a special part of our lives and we are so grateful for both him and Danny deciding to let us share their house!
Mrs B and I are heading off for a few days, to recall the brightness of the past.
Thanks Jake.
We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle; easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps, we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.
Irving Townsend
He is missed everyday, like his brother, and although it saddens the heart to realise just how long he's been gone, the memories Mrs B and I have of him bring a smile.
How can we ever forget that day we walked into the kitchen to find him standing in the middle of the kitchen table, gently picking grapes out of the fruit bowl and devouring the lot!
He was a special part of our lives and we are so grateful for both him and Danny deciding to let us share their house!
Mrs B and I are heading off for a few days, to recall the brightness of the past.
Thanks Jake.
 |
| The Old Man |
 |
| Young and Daft |
We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle; easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps, we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.
Irving Townsend
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Respect for the Law
Here we are again my little flockers, it's Sunday afternoon and it is very blustery here on top of the hill, I fully expected to see a piglet tied to a balloon go flying past.
I just wanted to intrude into your sad lives for a moment to deliver a shaft of pure insight from the beautifully calibrated machine that is the Guru's brain; super-injunctions don't work very well!
There is a huge amount of digital chatter about the not so secret identity of a certain footballer who can't keep his knob in his shorts, I'm not going to name him here because there is no need, the gigs up on that. One Scottish newspaper has even put his face on the front page of their paper.
Many normal everyday citizens have taken the time to find out who he is by accessing Facebook or Twitter or by just typing 'Imogen' into Google and seeing the list of possible suggestions.
The simple fact is that now the cat is out of the bag it really does undermine the law being used to try and gig...sorry gag freedom of speech.
Any decent law only works because it is accepted by the majority and it is open to all but of course this sort of law is not open to all, just those with deep pockets. This law, as Charles Dickens put it so succinctly, is a ass!
This is a law that is being used by rich and powerful men to cover up shameful acts, which they claim are private and that the exposure of said acts would cause harm to their families...the same families they disrespected and harmed by committing the act in the first place!
This is a law that is supposed to stop the exchange of information about celebrities who court the media and sell stories and allow access to photograph the wedding but then they want to pull up the drawbridge if it might seem a story will show they are not as perfect as they try and make out.
I can see the purpose in having a law that protects privacy when it comes to medical conditions for example or for matters where national security is an issue and even to protect people who through no fault of their own are thrust into the media spotlight, but basically the general populace share so much of their lives on social networks sites these days that the idea of a privacy law seems totally ludicrous and unnecessary for the majority of us non celeb types - and a law for the minority who can afford it is a law I have little, if any respect for.
So, my little gang of giggling googlers - when the summons arrives on your doorstep because you might have tweeted the name of a knob, let me know and I'll arrange the protest march.
Now back to your Sunday afternoon - Songs of Praise, a glass of sherry and then Bafta.
PS...
The press should really play their part by acting responsibly - but of course they only publish garbage because you like to read it. Hence, your presence here.
I just wanted to intrude into your sad lives for a moment to deliver a shaft of pure insight from the beautifully calibrated machine that is the Guru's brain; super-injunctions don't work very well!
There is a huge amount of digital chatter about the not so secret identity of a certain footballer who can't keep his knob in his shorts, I'm not going to name him here because there is no need, the gigs up on that. One Scottish newspaper has even put his face on the front page of their paper.
Many normal everyday citizens have taken the time to find out who he is by accessing Facebook or Twitter or by just typing 'Imogen' into Google and seeing the list of possible suggestions.
The simple fact is that now the cat is out of the bag it really does undermine the law being used to try and gig...sorry gag freedom of speech.
Any decent law only works because it is accepted by the majority and it is open to all but of course this sort of law is not open to all, just those with deep pockets. This law, as Charles Dickens put it so succinctly, is a ass!
This is a law that is being used by rich and powerful men to cover up shameful acts, which they claim are private and that the exposure of said acts would cause harm to their families...the same families they disrespected and harmed by committing the act in the first place!
This is a law that is supposed to stop the exchange of information about celebrities who court the media and sell stories and allow access to photograph the wedding but then they want to pull up the drawbridge if it might seem a story will show they are not as perfect as they try and make out.
I can see the purpose in having a law that protects privacy when it comes to medical conditions for example or for matters where national security is an issue and even to protect people who through no fault of their own are thrust into the media spotlight, but basically the general populace share so much of their lives on social networks sites these days that the idea of a privacy law seems totally ludicrous and unnecessary for the majority of us non celeb types - and a law for the minority who can afford it is a law I have little, if any respect for.
So, my little gang of giggling googlers - when the summons arrives on your doorstep because you might have tweeted the name of a knob, let me know and I'll arrange the protest march.
Now back to your Sunday afternoon - Songs of Praise, a glass of sherry and then Bafta.
PS...
The press should really play their part by acting responsibly - but of course they only publish garbage because you like to read it. Hence, your presence here.
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