tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362498942024-03-18T09:47:38.264+00:00bigdaddystevieBthe name is how our middle daughter used to introduce me to some of her friends (sad but true!)bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.comBlogger1703125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-55880129024441308832024-03-06T15:06:00.001+00:002024-03-06T15:06:39.282+00:00continuing faith journeying…<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMLqqK3g5m8vGIn3eSQVdr7hgo3n1qLnnvVX5gdHiHV3THWgdIu3UQnbAAW4-9LmBD2gCF6M5spuVSADZMjr9R9tVCMDYTJ9MuAlewOlvAEJFamq0xBH_873Vf8BSx2PvKEmEk-3LMp7FXp5tD4DedISNvYYu_2iSiQQbO8of6H9KtbHZ_drIxA/s2285/wax%20colour%20C1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1673" data-original-width="2285" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMLqqK3g5m8vGIn3eSQVdr7hgo3n1qLnnvVX5gdHiHV3THWgdIu3UQnbAAW4-9LmBD2gCF6M5spuVSADZMjr9R9tVCMDYTJ9MuAlewOlvAEJFamq0xBH_873Vf8BSx2PvKEmEk-3LMp7FXp5tD4DedISNvYYu_2iSiQQbO8of6H9KtbHZ_drIxA/w402-h293/wax%20colour%20C1.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>This will be
something of a rambling blogpost (understatement!)… some reflections, frustrations
and acknowledgements.<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Having
faith. Obviously, the key is in the word ‘faith’. The trouble is I’m lacking it
and I’m struggling in something of a continuing spiritual wilderness.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In theory,
I remain part of the Community of Saint Stephens in the heart of the city but
I’m struggling faith-wise (which has been the case now for several years). So
much so that, for the past 18 months or so, I’ve taken a ‘sabbatical’ from attending
church services (apart from attending the Midnight Mass at Saint Stephen’s on
Christmas Eve). How long this will continue, only time will tell (indefinitely
perhaps?).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In the
meantime, I’m still trying to find a way of reflecting on the spiritual stuff
in my life (albeit far from convincingly!). I continue to go along to our
weekly 7.30am café gatherings for Blokes’ Prayer - which has effectively become
my ‘church’.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">What DO I believe these days?<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I was
confirmed in the Anglican Church over 50 years ago. I’ve been a Christian ever
since but throughout this time, like so many people, my own spiritual journey
has been a long and winding road - often fruitful and compelling, but
frequently bumpy or feeling as if I’m in a cul-de-sac. At present, I feel as if
I’ve come to yet another crossroad on the journey.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I still
have a faith of sorts… I still believe in God (but maybe ‘my’ God is different
to other people’s understanding of the word?). I believe that Jesus did live
and was crucified (but I struggle with the virgin birth and even the
resurrection)(I know!). I believe that the New Testament stories in the Bible
are essentially true (or in part happened?), but I get very frustrated by many
of the interpretations (and added details) that have accrued between when the
events took place and when they were eventually written down (the same applies
to the ‘actual’ words used by Jesus and his disciples etc… and, for instance,
exactly what Jesus was thinking when he was in the Garden of Gethsemane or
during his 40 days in the wilderness).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Because of
these frustrations, I’ve almost stopped reading the Bible (for instance, a lot
of Paul’s New Testament letters – or at least some of the interpretations I’ve
heard given them in various sermons I’ve listened to – just make me angry!). To
take just one example, I followed one of ‘our’ church services online (about a
year ago). The Bible text included the following: “For if the dead are not
raised, then Christ has not been raised either” and “Now if there is no resurrection,
what will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at
all, why are people baptized for them?” - and this message was duly
endorsed/repeated in the morning’s talk/sermon. It left me shouting at my
laptop screen!<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">These days
(perhaps unfairly, I know), I find other people’s enthusiastic ‘certainties’
when it comes to faith incredibly off-putting (it leaves me feeling both annoyed
and exasperated). I don’t believe in an ‘afterlife’ but, somehow, feel that we
need to build a ‘heaven’ here on earth (ok, that probably sounds a bit
ridiculous to most of you). I can’t really justify or rationalise this, but I
do have a sense that our spirits ‘live on’ (again, you’ll probably think I’ve
lost my marbles). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">It’s
interesting (well, for me at least!) to read some of my blogpost ‘spiritual reflections’
on faith over the years – some dating back 15 years (although my ‘doubts’ go back
much further than that).<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’ve been struggling for a long, long
time!<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I posted
the following on my blog in February 2022:<br /></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">So, on this basis, can I REALLY call
myself a Christian? Well, no doubt there will be many who would answer “no”
but, interestingly, the BBC commissioned a survey in 2017
(https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-39153121) and found that a quarter of
people who describe themselves as Christians in Great Britain do not believe in
the resurrection of Jesus.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The survey also suggested that:<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">·<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>17% of all people believe the Bible
version word-for-word (not me)<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">·<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>31% of Christians believe
word-for-word the Bible version (not me), rising to 57% among
"active" Christians (those who go to a religious service at least once
a month, as I do)(not me)<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">·<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Exactly half of all people surveyed
did not believe in the resurrection at all (not me)<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">·<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>46% of people say they believe in some
form of life after death (not me) and 46% do not (me)<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">So, I’m not alone.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I appreciate that I could be accused
(with some justification) that I ‘cherry-pick’ what I believe in. But what I
find really difficult is being ‘told’ by some leaders of our church communities
what my faith should consist of – with, apparently, no room for doubt.
Effectively, the message seems to be: “this is what the Bible says, so it must
be true (or pretty close)… and if you’re not prepared to accept this, then you
can’t really call yourself a Christian”. They might not think that’s what
they’re regularly telling me, but that’s message that I receive and/or
perceive.<br /></span></i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Over the
course of Lent 2024, I’ve been continuing my faith exploration. I’ve been
reading Rowan Williams’s Easter sermons from his time as Archbishop of
Canterbury 2002-12 (book: ‘Choose Life’). I regard Williams as someone worth
listening to/reading, but even he says things that I find difficult to accept.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">He refers
to the Acts of the Apostles, where we are told “God raised Jesus to life”… If
it did happen, how do we know it was down to God? Williams goes on to refer to
the things Peter, John and Mary Magdalene witnessed on Easter morning (which I
can accept), but then continues with the words: “When the universe began,
prompted by the will and act of God…”. Again, I would ask how do we know this
was down to God?<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In another
of the sermons, Williams refers to Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians where
Paul says “that we shall die and that we shall be raised as Jesus was raised”.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Really? Is
this based on something that was, some considerable time later, promised in the
Bible?<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Obviously, it all comes down to faith…
but perhaps it’s just a case of “me of little faith”?<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The other
book I’ve been using this Lent is Alain de Botton’s book ‘Religion for Atheists’.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t consider myself to be an atheist – but Rowan
Williams did actually refer to the book in one of his Easter sermons. I duly
bought myself a copy and found it surprisingly helpful, optimistic and
illuminating. I won’t go into academic detail here, but the chapter headings
give a sense of what is discussed: Wisdom without Doctrine; Community;
Kindness; Education; Tenderness; Pessimism; Perspective; Art; Architecture and
Institutions.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m not a
mad keen follower of Rob Bell, but I have found his writing incredibly
thought-provoking and relevant (for me, at least). Take this passage from his
book ‘Velvet Elvis’ (which, in many ways, touches on the things included in Alain
de Botton’s book):<br /></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">As a Christian, I am simply trying to
orient myself around living a particular kind of way, the kind of way that
Jesus taught is possible. And I think that the way of Jesus is the best
possible way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">This isn’t irrational or primitive or
blind faith. It is merely being honest that we are living a ‘way’.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced being generous is a
better way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced forgiving people and not
carrying around bitterness is a better way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced having compassion is a
better way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced pursuing peace in every
situation is a better way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced listening to the wisdom
of others is a better way to live.<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’m convinced being honest with people
is a better way to live.<br /></span></i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I would say
‘Amen’ to that.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I am an
early riser. I’m usually up by 5am.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">At various
times in my life, I might have used this time for prayer and/or reading daily
reflections/Bible passages.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I no longer
do such things.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I can no
longer be bothered.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">And yet,
since moving house, I now frequently find myself in my ‘Thinking Seat’ staring
out of the window at the dawn of a new day.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">It’s
something of a magical time.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Maybe this
is part of the journey to rediscover my faith?<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">“Caught by
the light of some small heaven” (as my good friend Ian has described it)
perhaps?<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Who knows?… I’ll keep searching.</span></b><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-12969865432265692742024-03-06T10:12:00.002+00:002024-03-06T10:12:30.827+00:00perfect days…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFKvTNzI_020u5Iq34h4FT25mngz-pNh3GaJ7zWS3Ks1fuHkqCn6BSjg96CikDKbAJhHZrXEMSLctlLJWRiS0ZOKuTVs0pG9FgmjpMfWScronVNiOvCKMn4486APKoJkrFmsO6fKNY4GPKzBhyVsRKZ5MxTw5QflWBZsGCKJRVHAyqAV9L7Uu3A/s800/image-w1280.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFKvTNzI_020u5Iq34h4FT25mngz-pNh3GaJ7zWS3Ks1fuHkqCn6BSjg96CikDKbAJhHZrXEMSLctlLJWRiS0ZOKuTVs0pG9FgmjpMfWScronVNiOvCKMn4486APKoJkrFmsO6fKNY4GPKzBhyVsRKZ5MxTw5QflWBZsGCKJRVHAyqAV9L7Uu3A/w403-h227/image-w1280.webp" width="403" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Moira and I
went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Wim Wenders’s film
‘Perfect Days’. On the face of it, the film’s subject matter is pretty
uninspiring (understatement!) – it features the solitary life of a 60-something
Tokyo public toilet cleaner, Hirayama (played by the rather wonderful Kōji
Yakusho). Every day is the same. He lives in a frugal apartment; he puts on his
overalls; he takes a can of coffee from a street vending machine; he drives to
work in his modest little van; he works diligently and with a sense of pride; he
exchanges words with very few people; most just don’t notice him…<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">It all seems pretty bleak… and yet the
film proved to be entirely the opposite.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">Hirayama finds
quiet joy in the world around him… in the apparently insignificant things… the
sunlight through the trees (and the trees themselves)… taking time to pause and
take in the tiny details. His life is full of routine… he regularly takes his
lunch breaks in a small landscaped square; after work, Hirayama he often bathes
at a public bathhouse; he dines at a casual restaurant in a subway mall where
he’s greeted as a regular; he often goes to the budget section of the local second-hand
bookshop; he carefully rescues fragile Japanese maple seedlings and nurtures them
in his apartment; he has an old point-and-shoot camera with which he captures
the things that please him. All small, but important interactions. We all have
the ability to look, but how many of us actually see?<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Essentially, this achingly lovely film
is an argument in favour of an alternative way of being… and I think we could all
do with learning such a lesson.<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I thought it was a rather wonderful,
heart-warming, uplifting film and I think you should see it for yourself.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>PS: And, as a bonus, Hirayama </i><i>chooses
to listen to 60s and 70s American and British rock songs (on cassette tapes), driving
in his van, from the likes of the Velvet Underground, the Kinks, Otis Redding,
Patti Smith, Nina Simone and Lou Reed.<br /><o:p></o:p></i></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>PPS: The rather beautiful public toilets
are film stars in their own right!</i> </span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-41808755825554627682024-02-26T15:28:00.005+00:002024-02-26T15:28:48.136+00:00february 2024 books… <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmdeyHAk1o__yboH4yFDA90aUrUJCBTaT_ulTv5YbJ4fVXO03CWXNhx4N4KAv-vTdFk1_NW0qlCh2H6CMFEIgbbJrz5fFwejkiMB1817hhhVJXhoVFC1KpdA7lnuRCT-h77Fpg_bi1QZODVeJADVqgkF1Ie-LP99lPsaIBANV31Rz1UG-wcL16w/s1144/febmar24%20books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="341" data-original-width="1144" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmdeyHAk1o__yboH4yFDA90aUrUJCBTaT_ulTv5YbJ4fVXO03CWXNhx4N4KAv-vTdFk1_NW0qlCh2H6CMFEIgbbJrz5fFwejkiMB1817hhhVJXhoVFC1KpdA7lnuRCT-h77Fpg_bi1QZODVeJADVqgkF1Ie-LP99lPsaIBANV31Rz1UG-wcL16w/w409-h121/febmar24%20books.jpg" width="409" /></a></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">So Late In The Day (Claire Keegan): </b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Since publishing her first book in
1999, Keegan’s total work to date amounts to just five books - running to just
700 pages and some 140,000 words. In an interview for the Guardian (last
September), she said: “I love to see prose being written economically… elegance
is saying just enough. And I do believe that the reader completes the story.”
Well, as long as you can write like Keegan, I absolutely agree. This short
story follows<br /><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Cathal, a
civil servant in Dublin on a summer Friday. He’s sad as he reflects on his
relationship with a woman, Sabine.</span> <span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Gradually,
we become aware that Sabine was his fiancée but that she has now left him…
essentially it seems because of his attitude towards women and marriage in
general. We start off feeling a little sorry for Cathal and there are
occasional glimmers of awareness; his work colleagues seem worried about him
and his boss encourages him to go home early. There are occasional glimmers of self-awareness,
but does he fully comprehend the depth of his failure and the need to change? Keegan
reveals all this in a quiet, beautifully subtle way… and, finally, the reader
understands the significance of the day.<br /> <o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Joe Country (Mick Herron):</span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> This is the second of Herron’s ‘Slough
House Thrillers’ I’ve read (it’s actually the 7<sup>th</sup> in a series of 8,
so far… I’d previously read the 1st). These novels are essentially all about
British espionage; they’re clever, detailed and intriguing but, for me (and I
readily acknowledge that I might be the exception), they were just TOO clever
and complex. For a start, I felt there were far too many characters (and,
confusingly for me, some of them were referred to by ‘other’ names or nicknames?)(would
I have found things easier if I’d read books 2-6?)… I longed for a descriptive
list of characters attached to the book’s inside cover – so I could keep being
reminded who they all were. The novel was full of ‘spy shorthand’ (Herron
trying to show off his apparent in-depth knowledge of the world of political
intrigue and shadowy organisations?). It took me a long time (some 150 pages?) to
get my head around stuff and, even then, I felt my level of intelligence was
constantly letting me down! It’s quite a long book (nearly 350 pages) and,
although I did eventually ‘get into it’ – one of the story plots involves some
of the Slough House ‘crew’ being dispatched to eliminate a man responsible for
killing a crew member - I really longed to finish it and start something new. Sorry!<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">A Room With A View (EM Forster): </span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">This is our next Storysmith bookgroup
book (first published in 1908). Strangely, although I’ve read a number of
Forster’s books, I’d not previously read this one… and I really enjoyed it.
It’s been described as a ‘social comedy’ – with English middle-classes
holidaying in Florence… it’s about a young woman who finds her senses awakened
by her experiences in Italy – her stifling Victorian propriety (personified in
her pretentious fiancé) being eventually overridden by un-English passion. In
Italy, she discovers life and marks her journey from adolescence to adulthood. I
think all young people should experience Italy early in life! Our bookgroup is
combining its discussion with a viewing of the film at 20th Century Flicks on
Christmas Steps (and a visit to a local pub!).<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Choose Life (Rowan Williams): </span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The book consists of a series of
Christmas and Easter sermons given during his time as Archbishop of Canterbury
(2002-2012). I used the Christmas series for reflection during Advent 2023 and
now for Lent 2024. Williams is someone whose wise views and reflections I’ve
found helpful in the past… and, given my ongoing journey in the spiritual wilderness,
hoped that these Easter sermons would prove beneficial. Well, in all honesty
(and perhaps no surprises here!), I found them helpful, insightful and yet also
somewhat frustrating. I frequently found myself questioning matters that
Williams clearly felt were taken as read (but perhaps that’s just me in my
current ‘mindset’?). I finished reading the sermons half way through Lent – on
the basis that I wanted to read a second faith-related book before Easter (on
which I hope to post some thoughts next month?). It’s somewhat sobering to
realise that these sermons - from more than 10 years ago – frequently refer to
wars, environmental concerns and financial crises. Nothing has changed… they
only seem to have considerably worsened.<br /> <o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Walk The Blue Fields (Claire Keegan):</span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> As you will appreciate if you’ve been
reading any of my recent book ‘reviews’, I’ve latterly become a huge fan of
Keegan’s writing. This collection of short stories (first published in 2007) –
mainly set in Ireland – represent yet more proof of her beautifully-crafted
writing abilities, her use of language and her skill as a brilliant
story-teller. I read each of the stories quite slowly (and often out loud to
myself) and found them captivating, thought-provoking, imaginative, frequently
funny and utterly mesmerising. You won’t be surprised to learn that I have yet
another book of her stories on my bedside table!<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-85723876015435486802024-02-14T10:34:00.000+00:002024-02-14T10:34:03.430+00:00living with nature and uncertainty…<p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxPFzQRK1GEsPijYtEJhsIZ9WQnmlR37moZvDIppizKp4cHP5aq5uiF0NLWbbA5wzoP-uOBV5R4QGzzP4uGmUX0iHTUW45fs-RTJmTU56MG9sKG4l0hCCDsBrDWXCA5pxF2pwDy1R04pNvRcvdZ3Du6kBCm9tlDFtdXccIsRBlwL2vWJNH8Ik5g/s1028/documentariesA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1028" data-original-width="941" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxPFzQRK1GEsPijYtEJhsIZ9WQnmlR37moZvDIppizKp4cHP5aq5uiF0NLWbbA5wzoP-uOBV5R4QGzzP4uGmUX0iHTUW45fs-RTJmTU56MG9sKG4l0hCCDsBrDWXCA5pxF2pwDy1R04pNvRcvdZ3Du6kBCm9tlDFtdXccIsRBlwL2vWJNH8Ik5g/w401-h438/documentariesA.jpg" width="401" /></a></b></div><b>Somewhat ridiculously, I watched two television
documentaries a couple of days ago, back-to-back (I know… some people have to go to work!).<br /></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">If you
didn’t get a chance to see the BBC’s “<a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m000hb4r/the-great-mountain-sheep-gather">The Great Mountain Sheep Gather</a>”
programme (first shown in 2020), it’s currently back on iPlayer and well worth
watching. It’s a 100minute documentary about sheep farming on Scafell Pike,
England’s tallest mountain. Every summer, half a dozen shepherds and perhaps 20
sheepdogs gather a flock of 500 native Hardwick sheep from some 1,200 acres(?)
and bring them down the mountain to the farm for shearing. It’s an event that
has taken place in the Lake District for over a thousand years.</span> <span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">It’s a humbling account, seen through
the eyes of Lakeland shepherd Andrew Harrison – the knowledge of the dogs,
farmers and sheep passed down from generation to generation for centuries, the
challenges of life in the fells, and the conflict posed by visitors and the
21st century… Some of the smaller farms have been sold and the farmhouses
converted to holiday homes. There are less and less experienced farmers and
shepherds remaining to pass on knowledge acquired over generations. Harrison
talks movingly of the pride and respect he holds for the land and the privilege
of doing what he does.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">It’s absolutely mesmerising and quite,
quite brilliant.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The second
documentary was the first episode of Simon Reeve’s “<a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m001tkgb/wilderness-with-simon-reeve-series-1-4-kalahari">Wilderness</a>” programme - a
journey into the Congo Basin (it’s taken me a long to get down to watching the
series)… with its exotic wildlife, awe-inspiring landscapes, and terrifying
rise of deforestation. It’s a powerful tale of the importance of conservation.
Reeve and his ranger/conservationist guide<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">canoe along
the Motaba River, before trudging through thick vegetation to meet the nomadic Baka
(an indigenous people with very limited interaction with the western world). Reeve
and his guide are warmly welcomed and the women of the village immediately
proceed to construct impressive, elaborate huts to accommodate their overnight
guests.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In the
morning, they’re taken by the men in the village to gather honey. Like every
Baka hunting haul, the treasure is, instinctively, equally shared. A telling
remark from Reeve’s guide (“They take what they need, not what they want”)
stayed with me long after the programme had ended.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Another hugely impressive insight into another
world.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Of course,
the two documentaries are very different – about lives on different continents and
in very different circumstances – but there was something of a humbling
connection between them… about how people live off the land with skills and
knowledge passed down from generation to generation… and yet both with
uncertainty about what the future had in store for the generations to come.</span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-35431591843537982582024-02-07T08:30:00.001+00:002024-02-07T08:30:20.251+00:00the zone of interest…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHhI2Q0ApAHYRQmDdG-MVeye2N1pfh6_hXOyOHzXjRSVlcIXZARj9PuQ_dbUED4sbP5bYKBkJ7NVFPmt_IxWTUgVv6Px4ODCNw4a0f-x5bn2hk1nlT93d6rPpWQLvQbCGCtRg8TvURce2Aai3eQ72cyGHUd7JdSZ6WiL2iDL1aUQQ91MoXji5Kg/s681/The-Zone-Of-Interest.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="383" data-original-width="681" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHhI2Q0ApAHYRQmDdG-MVeye2N1pfh6_hXOyOHzXjRSVlcIXZARj9PuQ_dbUED4sbP5bYKBkJ7NVFPmt_IxWTUgVv6Px4ODCNw4a0f-x5bn2hk1nlT93d6rPpWQLvQbCGCtRg8TvURce2Aai3eQ72cyGHUd7JdSZ6WiL2iDL1aUQQ91MoXji5Kg/w398-h224/The-Zone-Of-Interest.webp" width="398" /></a></div>I went
along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Jonathan Glazer’s film “The
Zone of Interest”. It proved to be a tough, but very impressive watch.<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The film
focuses on the world of the true-life Nazi commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss
(played by Christian Friedel), and his wife, Hedwig (Sandra Hüller) – both
brilliant performances – and their five children. They live immediately next
door to the death camp (which appears in the film merely glimpsed over the
walls of their well-tended garden)… so it’s only the constant smoke and the
film’s scary soundscape that gives a hint of the horrors that are taking place
there.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The Höss
family live a wholesome, idyllic life – enjoying the beauty of nature, swimming
in a nearby lake, sunbathing in the long grass - but, every now and then,
you’re hit by some horrific revelation… such as Hedwig picking out an expensive
fur coat once owned by one the camp inmates or one their sons counting gold
teeth (pulled from inmates) in bed in the middle of the night or another of the
sons locking a brother in the greenhouse and making the noise of incoming gas
for fun.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">When Rudolf
is transferred from Auschwitz to Oranienburg, Hedwig insists on staying in her
dream house… but, in due course, the Nazi hierarchy decides that the number of
camp deaths needs to drastically increase and Höss is re-called back to Auschwitz.
In the phonecall to his wife announcing the decision, he talks about ‘murder’
without softening the language… but his words barely register with Hedwig, she
just moans that it’s the middle of the night and that she needs to get back to
bed.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In a film
review by blogger Robert Daniels (isn’t the internet wonderful!), he says this:
<i>“Because how we remember history, how we
make note of current events—through propaganda, photography, video, and the
internet—is a constant interplay between the truth as it exists and as it has
been edited. The fact that ‘The Zone of Interest’ arrives now, as world powers
manipulate the narrative to sanitize their crimes, makes Glazer's images all
the more chilling”.</i> Let that sink in.<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I think I’ll leave things there…
there’s so much more I could add, but I think it’s a film you need to see you
for yourself.<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">It’s a bruising, painful, brilliant
film… and the sense of what’s happening behind the walls never leaves you. It’s
one of those films that will stay with you for some time.</span></b> <p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-27724158882297480122024-02-03T16:35:00.003+00:002024-02-03T16:35:55.734+00:00january/february 2024 books… <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9_LMLroZEbcd-enYPTdAa5777iuX_PGBnb2EftBKzCzwhsRTYc-H6c9d9FwfzGAwbbFJAq-j9z5i2Pd2QNnFHpNtm0e4I6gsRh8QitfXMBBWJyTFwVEe2veZN9qeD6BiywBcAZnxsG923KPRvTvmcvVjcz1cK-_hrs3AMscVcwChiMErcYdMiA/s1150/janfeb24%20books.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="1150" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9_LMLroZEbcd-enYPTdAa5777iuX_PGBnb2EftBKzCzwhsRTYc-H6c9d9FwfzGAwbbFJAq-j9z5i2Pd2QNnFHpNtm0e4I6gsRh8QitfXMBBWJyTFwVEe2veZN9qeD6BiywBcAZnxsG923KPRvTvmcvVjcz1cK-_hrs3AMscVcwChiMErcYdMiA/w402-h121/janfeb24%20books.jpg" width="402" /></a></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Two Years Indoors (TeamSP): </b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">This is a book which tracks the
Covid-related government actions, restrictions and decisions over a two-year
period (January 2020-February 2022). Rather like the Blurb books I produced at
the time (March 2020-March 2021), this book provides a fascinating and stark
reminder of what we all went through. Not exactly bedtime reading, but hey!<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">The Forester’s Daughter (Claire
Keegan):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> Keegan is my
new favourite author! Her novella “Small Things Like These” was one of my
favourite books of 2023 and this short-story is the second book of hers I’ve
read this year. It tells of an Irish farmer-cum-forester (Victor) living in the
heart of the Wicklow countryside… with his wife (Martha), ‘three teenagers, the
milking and the mortgage’. The marriage followed a year of persistent courting…
but it’s an unhappy marriage. One day, Victor stumbles across a gun dog, which
he brings home and gives to his youngest daughter for her twelfth birthday.
Martha is fearful/apprehensive… “The evening is fine. In the sky a few early
stars are shining of their own accord. She watches the dog licking the bowl
clean. This dog will break her daughters heart, she sure of it”. Keegan is a
simply wonderful, mesmerising story-teller and this is a rather wonderful,
poignant tale.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Politics, But Better (Tatton Spiller):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> This is the third Spiller book I’ve
read this year. The cover claims it as “an A-Z guide to creating a more hopeful
future” (my goodness, how we need some hopeful pointers these days!). But, for
me, this book really didn’t do much to make me hopeful. Yes, Spiller talked a
fair amount of sense (but, frankly, so I do I quite a lot of the time!), but it
was hardly ground-breaking stuff and, inevitably perhaps, there were huge areas
that he didn’t cover. I found it all somewhat disappointing (and, frankly, a
bit boring!).<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">On Photography (Susan Sontag): </span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">This book, first published in 1977, is
our latest Bloke’s Books selection. It takes the form of seven essays – with
LOTS of references to lots of people I’d never heard of and lots of photographs
that I had no knowledge of (not all that surprising!). For me, the key and
obvious criticism about the book is that it didn’t contain a SINGLE photograph!!
Quite, quite ridiculous. Sontag was clearly a gifted academic and, no doubt the
likes of John Berger would disagree with me(!!), but I’m afraid I felt that it
read a bit like a verbose student might write in order to impress their
examiners – clogged full with quotations and references (but much somewhat out
of context and not particularly interesting).<br /><o:p></o:p></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">I thought
the most noteworthy thing that arose from reading the book was that, because it
was written before digital photography, the internet and the like, it
absolutely highlighted how VERY different things had become in a matter of the
last 50 years – the manipulation of images, photoshop, smartphones, edited/cropped
images, fake images/AI etc. I love photography but I’m afraid I found this book
quite boring.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Driving Over Lemons (Chris Stewart):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> I first read this book 14 years’ ago (it
was first published in 1999).</span> <span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">It
tells the story of the author and his wife setting up home in a remote,
dilapidated, peasant farm in the mountains of Andalucia, Spain – virtually on a
whim, with no farming experience and little in the way of practical know-how. The
scenery is clearly stunning; making a living is pretty tough, but the local
characters are hilarious and endearing (even though some are a bit scary!);
there’s an amazing sense of community – with people prepared to help each other.
It’s funny, optimistic, beautifully-written and has a refreshing innocence. I
have absolutely no desire to emulate him, but I found it absolutely enchanting…
and I loved it just as much (if not more?) the second time around.</span><br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-21643615610202002892024-01-29T06:59:00.003+00:002024-01-29T06:59:44.161+00:00john martyn project…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxEONnkA7wvQvyUbSLVH4gyxrPzp5Jwlx3pEuYuZBMN-Vasxv5lCq9kGIZViWUNNT0VvLgmBWnwGAECL1Fx0dp-kv_tp017MUq03baszrxQbAoHiE4ZSbBaij6KYlOhNBW8ExylTu8HkRBXjq0gBOJZsjPx87RilACA_nX9-OGdvxRhnioDuyGw/s1377/john%20martyn%20project%2028jan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1377" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxEONnkA7wvQvyUbSLVH4gyxrPzp5Jwlx3pEuYuZBMN-Vasxv5lCq9kGIZViWUNNT0VvLgmBWnwGAECL1Fx0dp-kv_tp017MUq03baszrxQbAoHiE4ZSbBaij6KYlOhNBW8ExylTu8HkRBXjq0gBOJZsjPx87RilACA_nX9-OGdvxRhnioDuyGw/w405-h269/john%20martyn%20project%2028jan.jpg" width="405" /></a></div>I can’t
quite believe that British singer-songwriter John Martyn died as long ago as
2009. I first came across him shortly after we came to Bristol in 2003 – thanks
to the recommendation from my great mate Si Smith. I got to know his music
pretty well - although, sadly, I never got to attend one of his concerts.<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">So, last
night’s gig at St George’s felt both appropriate and important (for me) – even
though it obviously couldn’t be a substitute for the man himself – and it was
spectacularly good.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">This special
project was started in 2018 when six musicians (Blythe Pepino, Kit Hawes, Pete
Josef, Sam Brookes, John Blakeley and Jon Short) came together to celebrate the
music of John Martyn at the Camden Jazz Café. The sell-out show inspired the
group to take the project on tour around the UK and mainland Europe… as well as
bringing Martyn’s music back to the festival circuit.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Last night’s
show was also a sell-out… and rightly so. Each of the band members were
wonderful in their own right (and I loved that Blythe Pepino sang some songs
from her armchair!). They performed altogether, but often just two or three
would join up for particular songs (Martyn’s music ‘catalogue’ of 23/24 albums
meant there was lots to choose from!).<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Fittingly, for their encore, the six of
them stood together at the front of the stage and sang the Martyn classic ‘Over
The Hill’ – and the entire audience joined in (beautifully!). Quite a wonderful
end to a brilliant evening.<br /></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Photos: Some quick photographs from the
evening (apologies that I managed to decapitate a couple of band members!).</span></i><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-6598478501627217412024-01-18T07:58:00.005+00:002024-01-18T07:59:12.104+00:00january 2024 books… <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SRpGeMTbxbV_64yJXP6NCBhDPjdv5rUIodcHkQ9t-LV94uPPI3YWBkmry0FJ6AmjwjCxoYfok3Gglmz13IWfenpA0EAWiiOJMBEjZxirork9mbeAUxb6vVOW_kZXsIX9Jq_jVPwk7qMXgjkOAK6sgkG48X48E482W2doIZQYxt44__HvlSu_cw/s1138/jan24%20books.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="1138" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SRpGeMTbxbV_64yJXP6NCBhDPjdv5rUIodcHkQ9t-LV94uPPI3YWBkmry0FJ6AmjwjCxoYfok3Gglmz13IWfenpA0EAWiiOJMBEjZxirork9mbeAUxb6vVOW_kZXsIX9Jq_jVPwk7qMXgjkOAK6sgkG48X48E482W2doIZQYxt44__HvlSu_cw/w403-h121/jan24%20books.jpg" width="403" /></a></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">A Memoir Of My Former Self (Hilary
Mantel): </b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">This is a
pretty lengthy collection (nearly 400 pages) of some of Mantel’s contributions
to newspapers, journals and the like over the past four decades. The subjects
are wide-ranging – Tudor England; revolutionary France; her childhood; her own
health issues; Princess Diana’s legacy; her Reith Lectures; her years living in
Saudi Arabia; various novelists; film reviews… and even cricket! I didn’t find
all her work particularly compelling but, of course, she’s writes brilliantly
well – and, often, with great humour and perception. I read it within a couple
of weeks but, on reflection, think I might have enjoyed/appreciated it more if
I had dipped into articles from time to time on a regular basis?<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">The Mystery Of The Blue Train (Agatha
Christie):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> Start of
another year… time for yet another Agatha Christie mystery! This one (first
published in 1928) combines all the classic ingredients: murder, trains, lots
of rich people… and Poirot. Typical clever, intricate plot. Good comfort
reading(?) for the start of the year.<br /> <o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Breakdown (Tatton Spiller): </span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Published in 2019 (the year of the last
General Election – so we’ve had Mr Johnson plus two other PMs since then!)…
it’s full title is: “We’re living through the Breakdown and Here’s what you can
do about it”. It’s an attempt to provide guidance so that readers will “be able
to see through some of the bluster, to communicate with people with whom you
disagree… (and become) part of the solution”. Spiller recommended: following
lots of different people on social media; following all party conferences;
listening to podcasts; and talking to people. All very plausible, sensible
stuff (and, at times, quite funny)… but, to be honest, I just found 225 pages
of UK politics somewhat tedious… and I couldn’t wait to finish it. Sorry.<br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Foster (Claire Keegan):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> Keegan’s book “Small Things Like
These” was one of the favourite books I read last year. This one (first
published in 2010) might well be one of my favourites of 2024. This short story,
which takes place in the hot summer of 1981 in rural Ireland, is narrated by a
young girl… who is taken by her father to live with relatives on a farm, not
knowing when or if she will be brought home again. In the relatives’ house, she
finds affection and warmth she has not known and slowly, in their care, begins
to blossom… but (in the words from the book’s cover), “there is something
unspoken in this new household – where everything is so well tended to – and
the summer must come to an end”. I think I’m going to leave it that… it’s a
novel of a mere 88 pages, but it is profound, beautiful and utterly lyrical. I
absolutely loved it – one of those books that stay with long after the final
page has been read.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">The Crime At Black Dudley (Margery
Allingham): </span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Another
crime novel for the start of the year (perhaps in order to avoid all the
depressing stuff that’s happening in the world at present?). This one, first
published in 1929, was apparently the first one to feature one of Allingham’s
beloved characters, Albert Campion (a pseudonym used by a man who was born in
1900 into a prominent British aristocratic family). I’m afraid I’ve never taken
to Campion… (or Allingham's writing) but that’s probably just me. This novel features a weekend house
party, a ritual involving an ancient dagger, a murder, stolen documents and
house guests held hostage (a typical 1920’s house party then!). It’s full of
twists and ‘suspense’ but, for me, not particularly convincing. Sorry.</span><br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-39832987929259147772024-01-12T08:19:00.033+00:002024-01-12T08:27:40.037+00:00the boy and the heron…<div style="text-align: left;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Gx128jdsIZRUJMzxMTuOfeB7TMxWzZnl7IIQrFXlWHQGBLvxvD__I_X70EbDqd3gjN3g1X2ui-IbxQqa9p04LCiMKMD0bHTN7KtGKbUEMNGQ-CY3LbeU9VX6BZz-AckJN1pgYaZnP2LCI7VtUbVGeYh7N3yJcNHd8j287Z1ZCvAcVVhvPKUYjQ/s1200/Untitled-design-3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Gx128jdsIZRUJMzxMTuOfeB7TMxWzZnl7IIQrFXlWHQGBLvxvD__I_X70EbDqd3gjN3g1X2ui-IbxQqa9p04LCiMKMD0bHTN7KtGKbUEMNGQ-CY3LbeU9VX6BZz-AckJN1pgYaZnP2LCI7VtUbVGeYh7N3yJcNHd8j287Z1ZCvAcVVhvPKUYjQ/w396-h209/Untitled-design-3.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>I went
along to the Watershed again yesterday (that’s TWICE in one week!) to see Hayao
Miyazaki’s film “The Boy and the Heron” (Miyazaki had apparently retired from
making films back in 2013, but hey!...).<br /></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">I have a
passion for Studio Ghibli films, so this was a no-brainer. As you’d expect, the
animations were pretty wonderful and the drawn characterisations somewhat ‘familiar
in style’ – in keeping with lots of other Studio Ghibli films (which is
absolutely fine by me). Like many of Miyazaki’s films, it deals with the
classic themes of childhood pain and grief arising from his memories of the
second world war.<br /></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">The film is
a something of a complex, mysterious fantasy (understatement!)… recalling the
past/coming to terms with the past. The main character, Mahito, is a boy whose
mother is killed in 1943 during an air raid. His father ends up marrying his
late wife’s sister and, a few years later, takes Mahito to live at his wife’s
country estate. To complicate matters, his wife is also pregnant and then
disappears mysteriously and Mahito’s quest is to look for her in a parallel
universe (I think!)… and, unsurprisingly for Miyazaki fans, this universe is
full of strange and wonderful creatures (including a talking heron).<br /></span><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">I have to admit that I came away from
the Watershed desperately trying to fit all the pieces together… I’ve just read
Peter Bradshaw’s review in The Guardian and now feel somewhat better ‘informed’
(those film critics are very clever people!)… he ends up by saying it’s “about
confronting a terrible sadness and finding a way to replace it with wonder and
joy”.<br /></span></b><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">And I think Peter Bradshaw is right.<br /></span></b><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">If you’re a Studio Ghibli fan, you
obviously need to see this!</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>PS: The Watershed now sell popcorn... As I'm a grumpy old codger, you won't be surprised that I struggle with the popcorn - not so much the distraction of hearing people eating it (someone sitting immediately behind me yesterday was VERY noisy!), but the smell of the bloomin' stuff!! But, as I say, I'm just a grumpy old codger!!</i></div>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-34450955342388992642024-01-08T19:56:00.001+00:002024-01-08T19:56:23.123+00:00one life…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsgUDFu21gxSd9K_fsw53zSOdGB1nIVEtBFD0mK933vv0NBm-UlzJS3-oJUZfbq0Iq9nz85vVVE8M0uLdoTn6xK5typviIDYo7Y4jCmIhMK3fp-NlVJm4UlBb7DzepnwmIP6pv37lf0Ss3kAK3tTf9x9Kg1ANSDkcN6QBkEKfDm_fLGwY7A7z8g/s500/s-l500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="500" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsgUDFu21gxSd9K_fsw53zSOdGB1nIVEtBFD0mK933vv0NBm-UlzJS3-oJUZfbq0Iq9nz85vVVE8M0uLdoTn6xK5typviIDYo7Y4jCmIhMK3fp-NlVJm4UlBb7DzepnwmIP6pv37lf0Ss3kAK3tTf9x9Kg1ANSDkcN6QBkEKfDm_fLGwY7A7z8g/w397-h305/s-l500.jpg" width="397" /></a></div>I went
along to the Watershed this afternoon to see “One Life”, directed by James
Hawes… my first trip to the cinema this year.<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The film is
based on the true story of a young British stockbroker named Nicholas Winton
(played by Johnny Flynn, and in later life by Anthony Hopkins) who visited
Czechoslovakia in the late1930s to see with his own eyes the humanitarian
crisis emerging among the exiled Jewish community in that country.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">He was so shocked
by the scenes he witnessed that, with the assistance of his mother, Babette
(Helena Bonham Carter) and others, he ended up helping to secure (against the
most appalling odds) the rescue of 669 children.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In the
later section, set in the 1980s, Winton has retired and, in the course of
clearing out his study, comes across a battered briefcase containing the names
and pictures of the children whose escapes from Prague he’d facilitated and realises
its historical significance and that it probably needed to be passed on to an
appropriate authority. Cutting a long story short, the Kindertransport is taken
up by the media (thanks to Robert Maxwell of all people!), amongst others,
including the “That’s Life!” television programme.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I was
already familiar with the basic facts behind the story - and it REALLY is an
amazing testament to Winton’s determination, compassion and humanity. It’s
certainly a very ‘worthy’ film… but not, in my view, a great one.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">What did strike me quite markedly was
the fact that history was currently repeating itself – in terms of wartime
child deaths.<br /></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">My friend Penny has also seen the film
and pointed out that some 15,000 children were killed in concentration camps in
Czechoslovakia during the course of WW2… and that over 10,000 children are
estimated as having been killed in Palestine since October 2023 alone.<br /></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">A very sobering thought.<br /></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">PS: Very weirdly, I noticed that our
old friends from Thame (via USA), Cheryl and Clive Gissing, were ‘extras’ in
the “That’s Life” sequence at the end of the film… and then had a vague memory
that one of families might have a direct connection with the Winton story (or
perhaps it was just that they make attractive ‘extras’!)?</span></i><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-65603384642980441582024-01-03T10:01:00.004+00:002024-01-03T10:01:58.694+00:001,000 paper cranes…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JdSV5_BmAwcAitfdiq6CEbXXpguojpJ0Jf6LbSzYVtHRR_SWVkC3OvZIANlkHSqFWrg_JZq0yYzDpD_Jxf87Fb64uzEkxkLtq6YELb6Rhaj39bud1dLdvlkFbDRrUIMSrq-bz1gIVsDHQ1cjhpsGhu8vv3QUDwjdThEgPv96QauJOx4mUemp2Q/s1631/cranes%20mash%203jan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1117" data-original-width="1631" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JdSV5_BmAwcAitfdiq6CEbXXpguojpJ0Jf6LbSzYVtHRR_SWVkC3OvZIANlkHSqFWrg_JZq0yYzDpD_Jxf87Fb64uzEkxkLtq6YELb6Rhaj39bud1dLdvlkFbDRrUIMSrq-bz1gIVsDHQ1cjhpsGhu8vv3QUDwjdThEgPv96QauJOx4mUemp2Q/w402-h275/cranes%20mash%203jan.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>In December
2022, as part of our Golden Wedding Anniversary celebrations, our daughter Ru
resolved that she was going to use the coming year to make 1,000 (yes, ONE
THOUSAND!) paper cranes on our behalf. According to Japanese
tradition/legend(?), such an act can bring a lifetime of happiness or good
luck.<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">People who
don’t know Ru might be forgiven for thinking that this was just one of those
things people resolve to do… but either just give up or never quite get round
to doing. Well, yesterday, Ru delivered her promise (literally)…<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">We now have 1,000 paper cranes adorning
our apartment.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">They make a
simply stunning, magical sight.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">I’ve found
the whole experience quite emotional… the time that has gone into this venture;
the generosity and love involved; the dedication and determination… and the
beauty and size of the final piece.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Quite,
quite overwhelming… and very, very lovely.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">We are very lucky people. x<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /> </span></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Photo: It’s pretty tricky to photograph
1,000 paper cranes (and impossible to do them justice)… but the attached image
provide an impression…</span></i><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-68603851574891359552023-12-29T09:10:00.001+00:002023-12-29T09:10:12.460+00:00new year reflections: december 2023…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhipJHLAYOfoRAD4RYGSEDGNMIYwB2cQSs80LYSaT73TH2Hxsgmwvi1O9CRCbWBsjnAIkrQ2BaAIBG8YwxeJlX1QE0uHbgVz34_pmcN8iEmaRYTeWVP4wogFUNG57-RCU22Gl7Fd5zayjhNVqBYZne1-5VgrjXYmC1pWiuJYrOJOuo9JAbGl_ZXw/s1793/shelves%20after%20xmas%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1793" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhipJHLAYOfoRAD4RYGSEDGNMIYwB2cQSs80LYSaT73TH2Hxsgmwvi1O9CRCbWBsjnAIkrQ2BaAIBG8YwxeJlX1QE0uHbgVz34_pmcN8iEmaRYTeWVP4wogFUNG57-RCU22Gl7Fd5zayjhNVqBYZne1-5VgrjXYmC1pWiuJYrOJOuo9JAbGl_ZXw/w401-h260/shelves%20after%20xmas%201.JPG" width="401" /></a></div>I’ve been
scribbling New Year Reflections on my blog for a number of years now (as always
– just a reminder for ME). Initially, I decided to drop this rather lame
‘tradition’ but then realised that, because I forget stuff so easily, it made
sense to jot things down for future reference! I’ll endeavour to keep it
relatively brief this year (some hope!)…<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">WONDERFUL
BOOKS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The
Storysmith Book Group (run by our lovely local bookshop) has continued to be brilliant
- interesting books, lovely people and good fun too… and I’ve also been part of
the ‘Blokes Books’ bookgroup involving some great mates (but, as ever, it seems
to take ages for the group to read each book/organise meet-ups!). I continue to
read a LOT of books (85 this year)<span style="color: red;"> </span>and here are my
FIVE favourites (in no particular order):<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Small
Things Like These (Claire Keegan); The High House (Jessie Greengrass);
Devotions (Mary Oliver); Tin Man (Sarah Winman); and, I KNOW I’m cheating here,
four ‘Lucy Barton books’ (Elizabeth Strout, my current favourite author): My
Name Is Lucy Barton, Anything Is Possible, Oh William! and Lucy By The Sea.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">GREAT
FILMS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Strangely, I’ve
only been to the Watershed eleven times this year (a lot of post-pandemic films
haven’t really appealed to me?) but, nevertheless, I saw some brilliant movies.
These were my FIVE favourites:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Talking
Heads: Stop Making Sense; Tish; Past Lives; Asteroid City; and Lunana: a Yak in
the Classroom… (plus, of course, It’s A Wonderful Life!).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">LOVELY LIVE
PERFORMANCES/EXHIBITIONS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">We continue
to enjoy going to the theatre, concerts and exhibitions (but, sadly, not many
theatre trips in 2023 – although those we did make were excellent) – but still
a long way to go! Here are a few favourites (I feel sure there are some
exhibitions I’ve forgotten):<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">THEATRE:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">As You Like
It (RSC Stratford); Drive Your Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead (Bristol Old
Vic); and Kathy+Stella (Bristol Old Vic).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">CONCERTS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Karine
Polwart+Kitty Macfarlane; O’Hooley+Tidow; Three Cane Whale; The Metropolitan
Orchestra: Mahler Symphony No.1; The Metropolitan Orchestra: Tchaikovsky’s
Symphony No.4 (all at St George’s). <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">EXHIBITIONS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">170th
Annual Open Exhibition (RWA); Threads (Arnolfini); Force Of Nature Light Show
(Bristol Cathedral); Found Cities, Lost Objects: Women In The City (RWA); Oil
Fountain: Luke Jerram (Bristol Cathedral); Photography Exhibition (RWA); plus
various art at The Ashmolean, Oxford.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">SPORTING
MOMENTS:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">This year
has been a sparse year in terms of watching ANY ‘live’ first-class sport
(understatement!). I watched just ONE game of rugby (courtesy of Robin) and, I
think, only TWO days of cricket at Gloucestershire CC!<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Pathetic, I
know! Determined to watch more cricket in 2024…<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">ART STUFF:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">With no Art
Trail participation these days, my ‘Art Stuff’ is fairly limited… and
predictable (although it continues to represent a crucial and enjoyable part of
my life):<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">1. I’ve
continued to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like
This” blog (now some 4,120 consecutive days – that’s more than 2,000 drawings
and 2,000 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 11 years
ago)!<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">2. Urban
Sketchers, Bristol: I’ve continued to really enjoy this wonderful group (which
I joined in March 2018 and am now one of its three administrators)… it’s a
worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, we meet up every month and get
anything from 15 to over 30 people coming along. It’s a real highlight and joy.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">3. I think
I need to paint a bit more than I actually do…<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">HOLIDAYS/LEISURE:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">After three
years of ‘no holidays’, we actually went away a couple of times this year. We
spent a lovely 5 days in Oxford in July – re-living our student days; and then
6 days in Exmouth - it was lovely to see the sea again after so long (just a
pity that the weather was pretty grim).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">SPIRITUAL
LIFE:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">In theory,
I continue to be part of the Community of Saint Stephens in the heart of the
city but, as has been the case for several years now, I’m really struggling
faith-wise. So much so that, for the past 15 months or so, I’ve taken a
‘sabbatical’ from attending church services (although I did attend the
‘Bethlehem Midnight Mass’ at Saint Stephen’s on Christmas Eve). How long this
will continue, only time will tell (indefinitely perhaps?). Moira continues to
attend pretty regularly. In the meantime, I’m still trying to find a way of
reflecting on the spiritual stuff in my life (albeit far from convincingly!). Meanwhile,
I continue to go along to our weekly 7.30am café gatherings for Blokes’ Prayer (which
has effectively become my ‘church’) and also attend many of the fortnightly
Resonate evening sessions.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">HEALTH:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">My health
has been pretty good this year… apart from the normal ageing process (my teeth
continue to fall out; I’ve got two hearing aids; I take tablets for my atrial
fibrillation plus blood thinners and statins; and have eye drops to deter my
glaucoma). My main frustration is my left hip (it’s gradually got worse over
the past 3 years); I’ve been walking with a stick over the last 6 months (and
my geographical range has vastly reduced!)… and I’m finding it increasingly
debilitating. I definitely need a hip replacement (my right hip was replaced 9
years ago) and I’m currently scheduled for an operation in 6-9 months’ time
(I’ve got a hospital appointment on 5 January – when, hopefully, I might be
given an operation date?).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Meanwhile, Moira
continues to deal with her Parkinson’s Disease (confirmed May 2022). She’s
generally pretty well and her medication seems to be pretty effective… and she
undertakes daily physical exercise via her PD Warrior links (I’m a little in
awe of her). Her main frustration is the lack of contact with her Consultants
(she’s seen them just once – in May 2022 – and was promised a follow-up
consultation within 3-4 months). Despite pressure on the Consultants from her
PD Nurse (Moira’s only way of contacting the consultants), she’s still awaiting
ANY feedback – 19 MONTHS LATER!<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Having
lived with the uncertainties of a pandemic over the past FEW years, we’ve
become rather used to living with uncertainty!<br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">OTHER
STUFF:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">My early
morning walking activities have dropped depressingly over the past 12 months
(due to my ongoing hip issues)… but, as alternative dawn ‘activity’, I really
enjoy watching the mornings begin… looking through our living room windows.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">We gave up
the car 6 years ago and, more than a year ago, I gave up driving altogether –
so buses and trains are now our default modes of transport. Weirdly, I seem to
have developed some form of ‘anxiety’ towards travel.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The world
seems to be full of challenges these days (it was probably ever thus)… wars,
the climate change, annoying politicians… greed, poverty, lack of funding for
the NHS, mental health, education and so much more.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">But I DO love
reflecting back on the things that have happened over the previous twelve months
and, each year, it’s a reminder that there WILL be some very special things
that they will happen in the coming year – even though, at this moment, I don’t
know what 2024 will bring. No doubt there will be some sad stuff too… and
perhaps encounters we feel ill-equipped to face? In such times, families and
friendships will, once again, see us through.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">For us as a
family, it’s been another good year (despite its challenges)… and we continue
to count our blessings.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">I wish you
(and all yours) a very happy, healthy and (hopefully) peaceful 2024.</span> <p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-49522206483301866872023-12-24T09:27:00.006+00:002023-12-24T15:24:15.472+00:00november-december 2023 books… <p style="text-align: left;"><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWgpYgFjbBg4SKJcK-EFKFgLlWWu_aP-AjD0Py0n5zlyIXPKGGU9hRvGamY_mCiAtvQzsd-S9IPmozEzDRFdT47AavLkRld6as9Lm4DjYQILsI9rK7H7LKxga7Th3ME9yvxAkTrZjugl_1hWYYrykpI_y8qxJ8k5snUTPRY-En-rL58tlxQEyeg/s1140/novdec%20books%202023.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="1140" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWgpYgFjbBg4SKJcK-EFKFgLlWWu_aP-AjD0Py0n5zlyIXPKGGU9hRvGamY_mCiAtvQzsd-S9IPmozEzDRFdT47AavLkRld6as9Lm4DjYQILsI9rK7H7LKxga7Th3ME9yvxAkTrZjugl_1hWYYrykpI_y8qxJ8k5snUTPRY-En-rL58tlxQEyeg/w405-h124/novdec%20books%202023.jpg" width="405" /></a></b></div><b>Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow
(Gabrielle Zevin): </b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">This
is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (478 pages long – which, as we always
skip meeting in December, allows time for us all to read it!). This is a book
about video gaming. I know NOTHING about video gaming… but it didn’t matter.
It’s a complex book about friendship, love, creativity, betrayal, rivalry and
tragedy (but, as the book’s cover makes clear: “it’s not a romance”!). The key
characters, Sam and Sadie, first meet in childhood – in a hospital games room
(Sam had an injured foot, which becomes a long-term disability). Years later, they
bump into each other at a train station when they were both college students
(Sam, mathematics at Harvard and Sadie, computer science at MIT) and, cutting a
long story short, end up making an incredibly successful video game together.
Their non-romantic relationship is a joining of minds and of worlds but, such
creative relationships can also cause rivalry and resentment… which is what
happens with them (despite them both continuing to work in the Company they’d
set up together at the very beginning). I don’t want to spoil things, so will
leave it at that – apart from saying that the story ends with an abstract
section set in a virtual world which, ultimately, reveals a means of
communication and reconciliation for its real-life players. It’s a very clever,
intriguing (and very enjoyable) book.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Uncle Fred In The Springtime (PG
Wodehouse): </span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">I read
this more than 6 years ago (first published 1939), but had forgotten most of
it(!). Uncle Fred is Lord Ickenham - as with many of Wodehouse’s books, this
one’s full of titled/upper-class characters – and he is urged by a Lord
Emsworth to save his prize pig (an everyday story of country folk!). The plot
is predictably complex and farcical and, just to complicate things further,
many of the characters take on disguised personas during the course of the
tale. Who could ever forget(!) people with names such as Pongo Twistleton,
Horace Pendlebury-Davenport, Galahad Threepwood, Bingo Little, Oofy Prosser and
Bricky Bostock? It’s an absurd storyline but, thanks to Wodehouse’s wonderful,
posh descriptions and humour, it provides a hugely enjoyable respite to all the
current troubles here in the UK and the world.<br /> <o:p></o:p></span><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Mrs McGinty’s Dead (Agatha Christie):</span></b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"> Resorting back to yet another Christie
novel (I think we have something like 35 of them on our bookshelves!). This one
was</span> <span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">first published in
1952 and a village charwoman is murdered and her lodger is found guilty of
killing her… but a local police superintendent has his doubts and seeks the
help of a certain retired detective, Hercule Poirot. It’s a very clever,
satisfying mystery – with lots of plausible possibilities and suspects.<br /> <o:p></o:p></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"><b>Pessimism
Is For Lightweights (Salena Godden): </b>This is a book of 30 poems by a writer I
hadn’t previously come across. One of the reviews I came across talked about
them as poems “for courage and justice”… there are poems that salute people
fighting for justice, poems on sexism and racism, class discrimination, period
poverty and homelessness, asylum seekers, immigration and identity. I found
them hugely impressive and read them out loud to myself each morning. Excellent.</span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"><br /><b><o:p></o:p></b></span><b><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Choose Life (Rowan Williams): </span></b><span face="Tahoma, sans-serif">This was my book for this year’s
Advent. It’s a series of Christmas and Easter sermons Williams gave in
Canterbury Cathedral between 2002 and 2012 (I’ve just read the Advert ones for
now). Williams has always struck me as a wise and intelligent man and so I felt
that, in my ongoing faith struggles, he might be a good person to read about
Christianity at Advent. It proved to be a useful, thought-provoking book –
albeit it didn’t quite haul me out of my spiritual wilderness.</span> <p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-15154928859208944732023-12-23T07:03:00.004+00:002023-12-23T07:03:35.015+00:00it’s a wonderful life…<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomCAfjhU5QUz-Y97h489LV7VGCU97DDwqjgw2r8mbGmFJvUdfZUGhxT2BIEnDmR5QNTSdr-bu0dkdPOjMruKCZpIQfyxtPE2j8-lYwlHnBXCEeeCnMyYlqFxXQpJN3AnhBu-oya9_kyar82ioKr5UadV79Bf7WsuHVQLQg0_S6n_TUo23nAq2fQ/s934/36e9d35e-93f3-11ed-99f8-0210609a3fe2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="934" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomCAfjhU5QUz-Y97h489LV7VGCU97DDwqjgw2r8mbGmFJvUdfZUGhxT2BIEnDmR5QNTSdr-bu0dkdPOjMruKCZpIQfyxtPE2j8-lYwlHnBXCEeeCnMyYlqFxXQpJN3AnhBu-oya9_kyar82ioKr5UadV79Bf7WsuHVQLQg0_S6n_TUo23nAq2fQ/w405-h246/36e9d35e-93f3-11ed-99f8-0210609a3fe2.jpg" width="405" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Han, Fee,
Ursa, Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see Frank Capra’s
iconic 1946 fantasy Christmas film… starring James Stewart (George Bailey) and
Donna Reed (Mary Hatch).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s a
great favourite of mine and I’ve watched it several times (and own the DVD),
but never at the cinema… and Hannah, Fee or Ursa hadn’t ever seen it.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">You’re
probably very familiar with the plot… on Christmas Eve 1945, in Bedford Falls,
New York, George Bailey contemplates suicide. The prayers of his family and
friends reach Heaven, where guardian angel second class Clarence Odbody is
assigned to save George in order to earn his wings…<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">So starts a
series of flashbacks of George’s life… he saves his younger brother from
drowning; prevents the local pharmacist from accidentally poisoning a
customer's prescription; his ambitions for travel and study are thwarted by his
father’s death and so is required to take over the family banking business… he
marries; ends up using their honeymoon savings to keep the bank afloat… and, of
course, has to fight off a certain Mr Henry Potter who effectively controls the
town through devious methods…<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ll spare
you the remaining gory details but, cutting a long story short, Potter steals
money from Bailey without Bailey realising; the bank faces scandal and criminal
charges… and George Bailey contemplates suicide.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Enter
Clarence…<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It proved
to be a rather wonderful evening: a pretty full-to-capacity cinema; all members
of our ‘party’ absolutely loved the film; and, perhaps for only the third time
in my experience, the entire audience clapped at the end!<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If you’ve never seen it, then I really
thinking you need to!<br /></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">PS: Apparently, at the Glasgow Film Theatre,
it’s been the venue’s biggest earner for 12 of the last 15 years!</span></i><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-36915786894716953612023-12-12T11:11:00.000+00:002023-12-12T11:11:05.726+00:00nothing changes…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I89hfUo0S1i9XbaZKr0J2HgJNVELOeEZpiZ6byA0yt40SbvmUqNyZjDyrmm5bfzoQVO5S0JcgDFuvEPf0yVCklw8JtKOW6qhJ73USwCFq0rhEap1ktHb9y_wxf5HxZui79yd5AVlpyn2uGGQ4rRjhC4ughZ_C3RZsrqcN95PXT8LivYXBnQQZQ/s976/_131973382_8690a53a92368337f27e97138b5ccf9c7c5411d5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="976" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I89hfUo0S1i9XbaZKr0J2HgJNVELOeEZpiZ6byA0yt40SbvmUqNyZjDyrmm5bfzoQVO5S0JcgDFuvEPf0yVCklw8JtKOW6qhJ73USwCFq0rhEap1ktHb9y_wxf5HxZui79yd5AVlpyn2uGGQ4rRjhC4ughZ_C3RZsrqcN95PXT8LivYXBnQQZQ/w400-h225/_131973382_8690a53a92368337f27e97138b5ccf9c7c5411d5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>As part of
my Advent ‘ponderings’, I‘ve been reading Rowan Williams’s Christmas sermons
from his time in office as Archbishop of Canterbury, 2002-2012 (”Choose Life”).
I’ve always found him a wise and thought-provoking man…<br /><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">The
following words from Christmas 2008 are a poignant reminder of how little has
changed in the Middle East:<br /></span><i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">“This year, as every year, we remember
in our prayers the crises and sufferings of the peoples of the Holy Land: how
tempting it is to think that somehow there will be a ‘saviour’ here – a new US
president with a fresh vision, an election in Israel or Palestine that will
deliver some new negotiating strategy. It’s perfectly proper to go on praying
for a visionary leadership in all those contexts; but meanwhile, the ‘saving’
work is already under way, not delayed until there is a comprehensive
settlement.<br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">This last year, one of the calendars in
my study… has been the one issued by by Families for Peace – a network of
people from both communities in the Holy Land who have lost children or
relatives in the continuing conflict; people who expose themselves to the risk
of meeting the family of someone who killed their son or daughter, the risk of
being asked to sympathise with someone whose son or daughter was killed by
activists promoting what you regard as a just cause. The Parents Circle and
Families Forum organised by this network are labouring to bring hope into a
situation of terrible struggle simply by making the issues ‘flesh’, making them
about individuals with faces and stories. When I have met these people, I have
been overwhelmed by their courage; but also left with no illusions about how
hard it is, and how they are made to feel again and again that they come to
their own and their own refuse to know them. Yet if I had to identify where you
might begin to speak of witnesses to ‘salvation’ in the Holy Land, I should
unhesitatingly point to them.”<br /></span></i><b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">Fifteen years on, nothing changes… and
the prayers remain the same.</span></b> <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-72058170477374641762023-12-08T15:02:00.002+00:002023-12-08T15:02:59.323+00:00half a mile from home…<p style="text-align: left;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70u3hHN51eEqNLEmvK4Xc7_UziHbDRUkDmJ-7BI_WZMXSsaLOUJYdTVnyRaVQJglt-IJ-805aA6oA1PGBf2fWE2EbXHOU8YZ77PMNdNOJ9hIsAlXDWGNrtdqEvrCGqkJlA5Bh4oVteH78Pbz4RVQ7hFbMGvxFMNt447pGTcTarhzhGoImvh8I-A/s1615/experiment.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1101" data-original-width="1615" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70u3hHN51eEqNLEmvK4Xc7_UziHbDRUkDmJ-7BI_WZMXSsaLOUJYdTVnyRaVQJglt-IJ-805aA6oA1PGBf2fWE2EbXHOU8YZ77PMNdNOJ9hIsAlXDWGNrtdqEvrCGqkJlA5Bh4oVteH78Pbz4RVQ7hFbMGvxFMNt447pGTcTarhzhGoImvh8I-A/w398-h271/experiment.jpg" width="398" /></a></div>In August
2021, Moira and I moved into an apartment in the very heart of Bristol city
centre – our immediate neighbours are the Central Library and the Cathedral.<br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Although we already knew our
neighbourhood pretty well (we’ve lived in Bristol since 2003), we’ve become
increasingly conscious of just how fortunate we are to have SO many beautiful
locations within easy walking distance of our new flat – LITERALLY ‘half a mile
from home’.</span></b><div>Here are
just a few – in no particular order (ALL within half a mile of our front door):<p style="text-align: left;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"></span></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">The
Cathedral</span></li><li>College
Green</li><li>Lord Mayor’s
Chapel</li><li>Balloon
Fiesta (the balloons often fly over us)</li><li>RWA (Royal
West of England Academy)</li><li>Bristol Old
Vic</li><li>Brandon
Hill</li><li>Watershed</li><li>Berkeley
Square</li><li>The
Hippodrome</li><li>Saint
Stephen’s Church (our church community)</li><li>Saint
Nicholas Market</li><li>Nelson Street (Street Art)</li><li>Bristol
Beacon (formerly Colston Hall)</li><li>SS Great
Britain</li><li>Queen
Square</li><li>Arnolfini</li><li>Central
Library</li><li>Saint
George’s</li><li>Harbourside</li><li>Christmas
Steps</li><li>Bristol
Museum+Art Gallery</li></ol><span face="Tahoma, sans-serif">Not to
mention the pubs, bars, cafés, restaurants, hotels and small shops</span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"><br /></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">(and I feel
sure I’ve left stuff out!).<br /></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Since the
first Covid lockdown (March 2020), I think Moira and I have gradually both
become conscious that “we’ve aged”! We’ve certainly become far less adventurous
when it comes to travel and holidays… neither of us currently has a passport
and or continues to drive. We now rely on public transport to get from A to
B.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /> </span></span><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">There’s a
sense that our worlds have become smaller and, although that perhaps sounds
rather negative, it’s also made us incredibly aware of just how fortunate we
are to have so much on our doorstep.<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Lucky, lucky us!<br /></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Tahoma",sans-serif">Photograph: Some images (photographs
and sketches) of our neighbouring facilities and resources!</span></i><p></p>
</div>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-2541275172328617772023-11-30T07:41:00.001+00:002023-11-30T07:41:35.557+00:00tish…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSu3vnDC8W5K5O7Jx7iuAi8qg45Gtapqc7mTVYDWEBrR3xZx9EBaVhEQWUVjzgecVd6ktHGnA9hzM9B5PHk6vHw_5iI_6Ft3nvJRwAxZqw9F3pLp5IR9M7BILR5nm478aJt1GN2hQsM5hk2sojIisZnyt9MqgC-KPr1DikAsJwvlQ6svyc5rLyAA/s520/tish1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="520" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSu3vnDC8W5K5O7Jx7iuAi8qg45Gtapqc7mTVYDWEBrR3xZx9EBaVhEQWUVjzgecVd6ktHGnA9hzM9B5PHk6vHw_5iI_6Ft3nvJRwAxZqw9F3pLp5IR9M7BILR5nm478aJt1GN2hQsM5hk2sojIisZnyt9MqgC-KPr1DikAsJwvlQ6svyc5rLyAA/w404-h308/tish1.jpg" width="404" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I went
along to the Watershed yesterday to see a film about Tyneside photographer Tish
Murtha (1956-2013), who chronicled working-class lives in the north east in the
70s and 80s (and marginalised communities).<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">WOW!<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I absolutely loved this film… and Murtha’s
wonderful black+white photographs.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">I’m
embarrassed to say that I hadn’t previously heard anything about her before
reading the Watershed’s film ‘blurb’ (I know!). Clearly, lots of other people
had… because the Watershed was a total sell-out – even on a Wednesday afternoon
(ok, it was shown in the small Cinema 2, but nonetheless).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">The film is
beautifully presented by Murtha’s grownup daughter Ella (who is an eerie
likeness of her late mother)… talking to Tish’s relatives, friends and teachers
at the School of Documentary Photography in Newport.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Tish came
from a working-class background and lived a tough life; much of her photography
was shot in different areas of poverty and deprivation. She was just one of the
people whose lives she recorded and, as such, wasn’t seen as an intruder when
it came to her taking her photographs. She was never understood by the arts
establishment and, sadly, Tish was never able to make a living from her
photography.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">In her
final years, she was reduced to poverty by Austerity Britain after the 2008
crash, terrified of being sanctioned by the Department of Work and Pensions.
She died of a sudden brain aneurysm at the ridiculously young age of 52.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">I found it
a very moving film… a reminder of the poverty and deprivation of areas like
Tyneside in 1970s/80s (and beyond) and the political attitudes of the time (and
beyond!)… but also how such a talented photographer was never recognised for
what she was – something of a genius.<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I would urge you to see this film if
you can. You won’t regret it.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>PS: There is a now a room at Tate
Britain devoted to Tish Murtha’s work.</i> </span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-10608625825594937502023-11-21T14:35:00.003+00:002023-11-21T14:35:31.087+00:00november 2023 books… <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EVhoxlxgxBmq1BHaCVtc4EaBcse4s5Wj_LVZz2PrKetV-BnCOlb5qsRoh3UFwC2CCIUnuwTrOxRj05qJPI8U9w1wd_k7Fhr2u3YNeWPXZEgdec_9IP5e7Kw-ZUq4nNlz5xU13i3llUK6VyXRSiLsi7IevLAZjSRSAbOyxi363KKc7qCBv_ddvA/s1142/nov%20books%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="1142" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EVhoxlxgxBmq1BHaCVtc4EaBcse4s5Wj_LVZz2PrKetV-BnCOlb5qsRoh3UFwC2CCIUnuwTrOxRj05qJPI8U9w1wd_k7Fhr2u3YNeWPXZEgdec_9IP5e7Kw-ZUq4nNlz5xU13i3llUK6VyXRSiLsi7IevLAZjSRSAbOyxi363KKc7qCBv_ddvA/w402-h120/nov%20books%202023.jpg" width="402" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Lucy By The Sea (Elizabeth Strout): </b>I’m a huge fan of Strout’s writing
(this is the fourth of her Lucy Barton novels). This one, set in March 2020,
sees Lucy’s ex-husband William pleading with her to leave New York and escape
to a coastal house he has rented in Maine… she reluctantly agrees, expecting to
return in a week or so. But William (with his scientific background) knows
best… he’s aware of the emerging Covid pandemic that was beginning to take hold.
I absolutely loved this novel and her wonderful, graceful style of writing. It
was a reminder of the fragility, uncertainty and fear that we all lived through
at the time (and, of course, many didn’t)… not being able to meet with family
and friends (let alone hug them); the daily walks; the social distancing; the
closed shops, cafés, theatres/cinemas; people having work from home; the
isolation of those living alone; the fears; the anxieties; the rules (and the
rule-breakers)… as well as the positives, such as no traffic, birdsong and the
possibilities that the long, quiet days can inspire. Her books don’t feel like
novels to me – much more like personal reflections… and this book managed to
capture so much about what we’d all been through in some form or other. Quite,
quite brilliant.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Companion Piece (Ali Smith): </b>I think I’ve only previously read one
of Smith’s books (‘Accidental’, back in 2012) and, according to my old blog
post wasn’t desperately impressed. Strangely, as it happens, this is another
lockdown story (published in 2022). The father of the main character, Sand, is
ill in hospital. She sits outside the hospital gazing up at the windows of the
ward where the people they love are probably dying; she’d looking after her father’s
dog. She’s contacted by an old university friend, Martina, from years ago (who
she never really got on with) who wants to tell her a story; this woman’s
teenage daughters burst into her life (and home). Sand fears these ‘Covid-denying
anti-maskers’ may be carrying disease… The second part of the book’s story
relates to where Sand walks the dog in a local park, beneath which lies a
medieval plague pit… and this introduces us to a time-travelling female
blacksmith with a fairytale aura, who made beautiful things centuries ago.
Those things include a famous lock that is at the centre of the story Martina
told… The book is something of a fable; it’s a beautifully-crafted tale of
episodes of injustice from the distant past coupled with frustrations and sadness
induced by the recent pandemic.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nothing But The Night (John Stoner): </b>This short novel (published in 1948) follows
one day in the life of 24-year-old Arthur Maxley, who’s living alone in an
anonymous city after dropping out of college. He lives a somewhat listless life
(paid for by his father) which frequently involves intoxication. He receives a
letter from his long-estranged father (a man that Arthur has a powerful fear
and aversion towards) and they agree to meet for lunch. After their meeting,
Arthur disappears into the night, gets drunk and ends up becoming involved with
a beautiful young woman. This, in turn, brings back painful, disorientating
memories of a childhood trauma involving his mother… and his night comes to a
violent end. Unlike Williams’ compelling book ‘Stoner’ (which I read nearly 10
years ago), I’m afraid I found this one utterly forgettable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Notes To Self (Emilie Pine):</b> Having read (and been impressed by)
Pine’s ‘Ruth+Pen’ novel, I decided to explore this non-fiction book of essays
(published in 2018, 4 years before R+P). She’s quite a brilliant writer and
these assays are extraordinarily frank, honest and raw. They are part-memoir
and part-psychological exploration. The book’s cover describes them thus: “she
writes of caring for her alcoholic father, the childhood pain of her parents’
separation, her unboundaried teenage years, infertility and sexual violence” (I
was particularly impressed by the essays about her father and her own
infertility). It’s a fascinating, confessional book. Harrowing, honest and
brilliant.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Moving Finger (Agatha Christie): </b>Yet again, I’ve resorted to Agatha
(this novel first published in 1943). I hadn’t previously read the book, but
knew that I’d watched one of the BBC ‘Miss Marple’ adaptations of it on the
telly (she doesn’t enter the story until two-thirds the way through the book).
The trouble was that, typically, I could no longer remember who actually HAD
committed the murder(s)! Another clever, satisfying crime mystery – albeit with
some rather ‘dated’ attitudes and comments (it was written 80 years ago
afterall!).</span><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-54465919235086914012023-11-19T06:59:00.001+00:002023-11-19T06:59:23.369+00:00mahler: symphony no.1 at st george’s…<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwancFZgrlI6S0YT4378716GEkYHmsAF8k04BebMJvAYMWRFmIeMxnpUdq1PbquOQpKu9xrzQ0Wb7uPA3Efij1Q0zZhgpRS-oKh6BLCJrl7ZtJNlPo7VzV06EY2hJef0lOJnROtxdOWzcvzPwlTvALcL_jfrUP0l3ay_y7k7bcWsE2ryRMdbdkQ/s3207/mahler%2018nov.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1729" data-original-width="3207" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwancFZgrlI6S0YT4378716GEkYHmsAF8k04BebMJvAYMWRFmIeMxnpUdq1PbquOQpKu9xrzQ0Wb7uPA3Efij1Q0zZhgpRS-oKh6BLCJrl7ZtJNlPo7VzV06EY2hJef0lOJnROtxdOWzcvzPwlTvALcL_jfrUP0l3ay_y7k7bcWsE2ryRMdbdkQ/w398-h215/mahler%2018nov.JPG" width="398" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I went along
to St George’s again last night to see/hear the Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra
tackle Mahler’s Symphony no.1 (I love Mahler!). My great mate Ed was one of the
seven(!?) horn players featured in this full orchestral rendition. <br /></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There’s
something very impressive about witnessing a large orchestra (70+ performers?)
in full voice… and last night was a bit special.<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">The two other
works performed last night were: Cécile Chaminade’s ‘Callirhoë Suite’ and the
world première of</span></span><span lang="EN-US"> ‘<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Selene's
Awakening’ featuring Sophie Stockham on solo saxophone.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-family: arial;">All in all, a really magical evening.<br /></span></span></b></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Photo: orchestra view from my seat (needless to say, I
didn’t quite manage to fit everyone in!)…</span></span></i></span><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-40309979823125091262023-11-15T10:52:00.007+00:002023-11-15T11:07:45.003+00:00reflections on health, ageing and stuff…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbg6OVEbcqaAnLuGlHTCitj2h2uOrqV_picarVGbgfdXGC6b9gKhpuzgaLuKNEwjkeITflayuzo3by_6ozs5uCvk8-xH8jdrcjXhpg0uOwyuJf8sA_24zWB8GM5t2bLJ3QXWJwMB3xO6bI9CrbiZ-PoUN-F7KSGZTMwq3FHUDobTMMWK4Y93eFg/s1200/Apple-Health-study-July-2022-hero.jpg.og.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbg6OVEbcqaAnLuGlHTCitj2h2uOrqV_picarVGbgfdXGC6b9gKhpuzgaLuKNEwjkeITflayuzo3by_6ozs5uCvk8-xH8jdrcjXhpg0uOwyuJf8sA_24zWB8GM5t2bLJ3QXWJwMB3xO6bI9CrbiZ-PoUN-F7KSGZTMwq3FHUDobTMMWK4Y93eFg/w401-h212/Apple-Health-study-July-2022-hero.jpg.og.jpg" width="401" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ve been
mulling over all sorts of health-related matters over recent days… and, hey,
I’m well aware that there are LOTS of other urgent world issues that also need
our thoughts at the present time.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">As you
might imagine (if you know me), these reflections are incredibly muddled,
inconclusive and incomprehensible… but I felt the need to scribble them down
(to prove to myself how little I know about such matters!)(I’m not asking for
people to point out that I’m wrong!).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Here’s the
context (and these are just three examples close to my heart):<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">1. Many of us
are aware of how badly children’s mental health has been affected by Covid
lockdowns and its repercussions. Some of our grandchildren have certainly
struggled in this regard. After retirement from my architectural practice, I worked at a secondary school for
six years (until 2011) and was frequently involved in making CAMHS (Child and
Adolescent Mental Health Services) referrals. At that time, waiting lists were
in the order of 6-7 weeks. Today, 12 years on, I understand those waiting times
are now in the order of 2 YEARS. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Moira was
diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in 2022 (first suspected in 2021). She
had an appointment with her Registrar and Consultant in May 2022 and they
promised to see her again in 3-4 months’ time. More than 18 months later, this
still hasn’t happened (despite pressure from the PD Nurse on her behalf)… so,
apart from the PD Nurses’ occasional notes, they have absolutely no idea how
Moira is coping. Fortunately, Moira’s medication has proved to be helpful in
coping with key aspects of her condition, but nevertheless… Moira and I are
regular followers of the brilliant weekly “Movers+Shakers” podcast about PD and
it seems that again and again people report that they’ve only managed to see
their consultants once a year at the most. It really shouldn’t be like this
but, no doubt, resources (staff and funding) are stretched to their limits.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">3. I’m
currently struggling to walk. I need another hip replacement (my right hip was
‘done’ some 9 years ago – and very successful it has proved). I’ve been
‘referred’, but am currently in limbo land as I await contact from Musculoskeletal
(MSK) team (waiting times are now ‘longer than anticipated’). Nine years ago,
it took something like 7 weeks from referral to operation. These days, I’m told
it’s more like two years (but I’ve actually no idea as to my current position in
the queue). In the meantime, I walk with a stick and my ability to walk any
distance beyond half a mile is very limited. My condition is both depressing
and debilitating. Yes, apparently, I could ‘go private’ for something like £15,000
and be treated within 4 weeks… but this is against my principles (in these days
of the NHS, why should we discriminate between those who can afford and those
who can’t?). Yes, no doubt there will be many who will disagree with me.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course, thanks to amazing scientific
advancements, life expectancy in the UK has risen by almost 10 years in the
past 50 years (currently 81 years compared with 72 in 1975, apparently). The
population is getting older and we have the ability to treat them (in some form
or other)… if we WANT to.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">But health
and welfare is an expensive business and, perhaps unsurprisingly, for the past
dozen years or so, the UK’s Conservative government has seemed prepared to underfund
the NHS and exert pressure on people to take up private healthcare (thereby jumping
the queues etc). So, whilst the NHS has the ability to undertake a
wide range of measures, lack of funding has meant that what funds have been
allocated are more thinly spread… resulting in staffing levels being reduced
(and overworked and stressed workers), waiting times increasing alarmingly and,
almost inevitably, staff leaving the NHS (not to mention the EU doctors and
nurses who have departed since Brexit).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s a
nightmare scenario for politicians and administrators alike. What SHOULD the
priorities be? Regular evaluations and monitoring of a PD patient, for example,
are vital for appropriate prognosis and treatment. Such evaluations aren’t
happening at present… A two year waiting list for children with mental health
issues is two YEARS of their childhood, for goodness sake… Of course, for
example, people awaiting cancer treatment should come before me and my hip
replacement, but…<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For me (and I appreciate that - in this
world of climate crisis, wars and cost of living issues - there are LOTS of
areas requiring extra funding!), raising taxes to pay for effective NHS and Social
Welfare services seems like the ONLY appropriate measure… and yet we have
currently have a government that has a philosophy of actually REDUCING taxes.<br /></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What hope is there? </span></b></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-55961732648269167962023-10-29T14:33:00.005+00:002023-10-29T14:33:40.465+00:00september-october 2023 books… <p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBIz87T5jQ86WKOzt0IRQcuzL7qTBzUxCdvEj7f_izpQLJuhSE7tG6eTizZtU5FtwnvmW14OpMuP9w5VXk60njXxVuJpbMkaSRwDHm7_uYkXD4D7mm6iGYvJmIumdZoL_TBhpkJCVirJqwctil4YaCgHKByhzMyYkU-dHRFBFa8kXwdHFFH5jJQ/s1140/sepoct%20books%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="339" data-original-width="1140" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBIz87T5jQ86WKOzt0IRQcuzL7qTBzUxCdvEj7f_izpQLJuhSE7tG6eTizZtU5FtwnvmW14OpMuP9w5VXk60njXxVuJpbMkaSRwDHm7_uYkXD4D7mm6iGYvJmIumdZoL_TBhpkJCVirJqwctil4YaCgHKByhzMyYkU-dHRFBFa8kXwdHFFH5jJQ/w399-h119/sepoct%20books%202023.jpg" width="399" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Ruskin Park (Rory Cellan-Jones): </b>As you probably know, Rory Cellan-Jones
was the BBC’s principal technology correspondent until 2021. I’ve become far
more aware of him over recent months as one of the six friends (not mine!) who
meet together in a pub regularly in the ‘Movers and Shakers’ podcast (like
Moira, he’s a Parkinson’s sufferer). It’s a book about his childhood home
(Ruskin Park House – a tiny Council flat), his mother, the BBC (for whom she
worked for 33 years) and his own upbringing. It’s a complicated and, in many
ways, quite remarkable story which was really only made possible because his
mother was zealous letter writer (who seemed to keep copies of all
correspondence she received as well as taking carbon copies of most of the
letters she sent out!). His mother was quite a remarkable woman – she
single-parented two sons in a one-bedroom flat, while working full time through
the 1950s/60s. She was a member of MENSA, learnt to fly and was clearly intelligent
but, as was the case for so many women in 1950s/60s, the opportunities for
career advancement (certainly in the BBC) were shockingly limited. As well as
providing a fascinating and compelling account of the various family dramas,
the book also provides a valuable social history of those post-war times. An
excellent read.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Ruth and Pen (Emilie Pine): </b>This is our Storysmith bookgroup’s
latest book (theme: 2023 paperback). The two females in the title are Ruth (a
therapist in her early 40s, whose marriage appears to be buckling beneath the
weight of repeated IVF cycles) and Pen (intelligent 16-year-old struggling with
her autism - who has few friends and who requires regular timeouts from class
to cope with the severe pressures each day presents). The story takes place in
Dublin over the course of a single day (7 October 2019) and the narrative
initially alternates between Ruth+Pen by means of a third-person (Ruth’s
husband, Pen’s mother and a close friend)… and their paths briefly cross twice
during the course of the book. I found it a beautiful, tender - albeit
frequently challenging - book (wonderfully written) about stuff that people
often hesitate to discuss, such as marital struggles, sexuality, miscarriage,
friendships, mental health, early adulthood, and autism.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Dead Man Singing (Steve Couch): </b>This novel was written by a good friend
of mine and, within the first couple of chapters of this rather brilliant book,
I was taken back to the first time I saw Richard Thompson perform on stage…
with Fairport Convention (the 24hour Blues Festival at Oxford Poly in March
1969). The book is set in the early 1990s and focusses on the dwindling career
of Dave Masters, a musician who, in his hey-day of the 1970s/80s, was something
of a pop icon. Depressingly, he’s now no longer performing with his band and has
been reduced to appearing alone in seedy pubs and clubs. It all becomes too
much… he can’t carry on. After listening to a song by one of his musical
heroes, Richard Thompson, he decides to fake his own death in an attempt to
boost his record sales but, in the process, realises that he can’t live without
the stage and comes up with a plan to re-launch his career… It also features a
Broadway as one its key characters (I know!)(but *no spoilers*). <br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s a
clever and intriguing story – given total authenticity thanks to Steve’s
impressive musical knowledge of bands, gig venues and the like (he’s clearly a very devoted music fan). It captures what one imagines is the life of a touring band
perfectly – with all the humour, arguments, rivalries, frustrations, lies and
highs. Entwined within all of this is a compelling story of relationships,
family, likeable characters, gangsters(!) and Dave Masters’ battles with
himself. It’s wonderfully written and a real page-turner. I read it in three
days.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>The Radetsky March (Joseph Roth): </b>This is our latest Bloke’s book
selection. I have to say that it took me some considerable time to ‘get into
the book’ (I took a brief ‘time-out’ after Part 1, some 133 pages), but am
pleased that I persevered and became quite taken by it – and, ultimately, found
it quite moving. It’s a family saga novel (written in 1932) chronicling the
decline and fall of Austria-Hungary via the story of the Trotta family through
three generations. In
northern Italy, during the Battle of Solferino in 1859, Emperor Franz Joseph I,
is almost killed and only saved by the actions of Infantry Lieutenant Trotta –
who, to thwart snipers, topples the Emperor from his horse. As a reward, the
Emperor awards him the Order of Maria Theresa and ennobles him. Elevation to the
nobility ultimately leads to the Trotta family's ruination, paralleling the
imperial collapse of Austria-Hungary (1867–1918). So, from the family’s
somewhat lowly background, the newly elevated Baron is regarded by everyone
from the new baron's old life, including his family, as a nobleman – a class in
which he feels temperamentally uncomfortable. The subsequent von Trotta family generations misunderstand
the elder generation's reverence for the legend of Trotta's saving the
Emperor's life and consider themselves rightful aristocrats. The subsequent
first, second and third Baron Trottas (although they have little knowledge
their family background) are pressed into unremarkable careers within the
military, government and military respectively. The cavalry officer's career of
the third Baron Trotta comprises postings throughout the Austro-Hungarian
Empire and all the off-duty pursuits characteristic of the military officer
class in peace-time (ie. a dissipated life of wine, women, song, gambling,
debts, and dueling. Following a fatal duel the young Trotta transfers from the
socially elite regiment to a far less prestigious one. Baron Trotta's infantry
unit subsequently brutally suppresses an industrial strike in a garrison town
and the aftermath of this professional brutality begins Lieutenant von Trotta's
disillusionment with empire. He is killed, bravely but pointlessly, in a minor
skirmish with Russian troops during the opening days of World War I. A beautifully-written
(and well translated by Michael Hofmann), disturbing-but-engaging novel about a
vanished world – 363 pages – for the likes of our Bloke’s bookgroup?).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Towards Zero (Agatha Christie): </b>After a fairly<b> </b>hefty tome, I returned to the comfort of a trusted Agatha Christie
novel (this one first published in 1944). It’s set at Gull’s Point on the English
coast. Aged Lady Tressilian invites her ward, Nevile Strange, for his annual
visit; he insists on bringing both his former wife and his present wife (plus
other house party guests) - though Lady Tressilian finds this somewhat ‘awkward’,
to say the least. I’ll refrain from giving away too much of the ploy but,
needless to say, it involves murder… threatened suicides, family acrimony, strained
relationships and unexpressed love (among other stuff). It involves numerous
characters and multi-layers of scene-setting. Incredibly easy-reading (I read
it in 2 days) and cleverly plotted – but with (as in many Christie novels) a
few out-of-the-blue characteristics to help justify the outcome (which I didn’t
find 100% convincing to be honest). Enjoyable ‘comfort reading’ nevertheless
(despite the occasional death!). </span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-65052159021487971532023-10-27T09:54:00.001+00:002023-10-27T09:54:34.367+00:00gone fishing...<p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2yu9sQym2lHZuJmCJ8GqZrzIS1aSb_XzaPXlRbPXLLcd7UQ1pjaFbCCCtDrFZB7TD85tXkxfCGUEJBgGJNvVUE-OJ0wdH1vWYqjQDlALmKnrSOOrU-FiuANSOajscoxW8GSBGtXstHNkkD25ON-UfQwZvxJY1vT1eUwq8e-zMQPK_dE7zIT-3w/s900/mortimer_and_whitehouse_fishing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="900" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2yu9sQym2lHZuJmCJ8GqZrzIS1aSb_XzaPXlRbPXLLcd7UQ1pjaFbCCCtDrFZB7TD85tXkxfCGUEJBgGJNvVUE-OJ0wdH1vWYqjQDlALmKnrSOOrU-FiuANSOajscoxW8GSBGtXstHNkkD25ON-UfQwZvxJY1vT1eUwq8e-zMQPK_dE7zIT-3w/w406-h203/mortimer_and_whitehouse_fishing.jpg" width="406" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="font-family: arial;">There have been six series of ‘Gone
Fishing’ on the telly… and I’ve watched all of them… TWICE (I know!).<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">In case you
haven’t a clue what I’m referring to, the programme features comedians Bob
Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse reflecting on life after their shared major heart
problems, while on fishing trips to various locations around Britain. It was
first shown on BBC Two in 2018 and has been re-commissioned every year since.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Apparently,
Series 7 is being expanded to 8 episodes in 2024 (there’s normally six).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">I
absolutely love the programme – despite the fact that I have no interest in
fishing whatsoever (and have never been fishing in my entire life).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">What I find
so enjoyable about the programme is that it’s about two old geezers (neither of
them even approaching my age – Whitehouse is 65 and Mortimer is 64) out by
themselves, enjoying beautiful UK locations, having time to relax and reflect
on life… and, of course, fish.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">The formula
is ridiculously simple… they travel to these lovely places, they fish and they
put the world to rights sitting on riverbanks. Whitehouse is the fishing guru
(Mortimer frequently ignores his advice). Mortimer is responsible for catering
and finding overnight accommodation. The programme is just 30 minutes long (the
‘Christmas Specials’ are an hour long)… I love their silly conversations and
banter… and it’s made all the better with stunning aerial views (thanks to
drone photography) and occasional appropriate background music.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">In some
ways, it all feels a bit like meeting up with one’s mate for a pint in the pub.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>When I think about why I love the
programme so much, I think it’s something to do with escapism – taking a ‘time
out’ from this ridiculous, angry, selfish world (or at least some of the major players in it) and celebrating the beautiful, good, simple things that really matter.</b> </span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-82276018382944496212023-10-04T10:45:00.010+00:002023-10-04T14:15:16.329+00:00talking heads: stop making sense…<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmVc6zbeKQnirj7VltMwot46H_aQ2CU0n7MopsKKvRN2IAp0_lH9eNHXrd0A1_FzTOY3gnRSwboQMCZcXNOlWZbkzGXQfW8Z1z7LfL1SXn0avXXTm5bR21xu6kA2GRXtSPmt3_l-s_KQ2C5k7V9AYz4ZUjO57szLawN2i_7QghUj-_4KlbhlUhzw/s1480/talking-heads-stop-making-sense-2023-1480x832.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="1480" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmVc6zbeKQnirj7VltMwot46H_aQ2CU0n7MopsKKvRN2IAp0_lH9eNHXrd0A1_FzTOY3gnRSwboQMCZcXNOlWZbkzGXQfW8Z1z7LfL1SXn0avXXTm5bR21xu6kA2GRXtSPmt3_l-s_KQ2C5k7V9AYz4ZUjO57szLawN2i_7QghUj-_4KlbhlUhzw/w398-h224/talking-heads-stop-making-sense-2023-1480x832.jpg" width="398" /></a></span></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I grow up, I want to be David
Byrne.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">I love
‘Talking Heads’ and, back in 2007, owned a DVD of one of their December 1983
gigs given away free with ‘The Observer’. I played it all the time and loved
it…<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Tragically,
following our house move two years ago, I can no longer find it. I gave away
LOTS of my CDs etc (free-to-collect on the pavement outside our house), but was
careful to retain all my ‘absolute favourites’… and, SURELY, SMS wasn't among
them? It was just in a cardboard CD envelope as opposed to a hinged-plastic
case… perhaps I put it in a ‘special place’? If so, where on earth was that?<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, to
cut a long story short, I went along to the Watershed last night to see the
‘Stop Making Sense’ concert film (filmmaker Jonathan Demme’s new and complete
4K restoration for the film's 40th anniversary) on the big screen - David
Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison, alongside an ensemble
of supporting musicians and singers. The live performance was shot over the
course of three nights at Hollywood's Pantages Theatre and featured the band's
most memorable songs including ‘Burning Down the House’, ‘Psycho Killer’ and ‘Once
in a Lifetime’.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It felt
somewhat weird for me to be going to the cinema at 8.30pm (me being an ‘old
codger afternoon regular’!). The cinema was packed (it was a sell-out) and the
evening didn’t disappoint. Wonderful, evocative music; wonderfully energetic
and passionate performances; and, of course, David Byrne was absolutely
mesmerising throughout.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">The
age-range of the audience was interesting – half were old fogies like me (I was
probably the second oldest member) and the other half were probably all under
40. Some were no doubt re-living their youth and others probably checking out
the musical tastes of their parents!<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">An utterly compelling evening. I
absolutely LOVED it (and the rest of the audience did too!).<br /></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">PS: On New Year’s Eve in 1967(?), at a
somewhat drunken party, I was asked if I would like to join a newly-formed
group as their lead singer (we called them ‘groups’ in those days, not
‘bands’). They’d clearly never heard me sing. I gracefully declined…<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I appreciate that Talking Heads weren’t
formed until 1975, but I’m pretty sure that, if I HAD agreed to embark on a
musical career, it’s just possible that I might have become the
Byrne-before-Byrne legend of the pop world… (we will never know!).<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, what might have been?!<br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">PPS: These days, cinemas (even the
Watershed) encourage people to take their bar drinks into the auditorium… which
is fine, BUT (last night) it did mean that there was a CONSTANT stream of
people (of all ages!) making their way from their respective seats, squeezing
past fellow audience members in their rows on their way to the loos!</span></i>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-76301755511765763012023-09-30T06:39:00.002+00:002023-09-30T09:12:32.029+00:00cricket #2: another season comes to an end…<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZV0QuHMUmaPwkdFsu7o9BUK4pE7w9GQeKLy-mXZDPQYR0OqMstnRPSqcpnKTrgVn6TrWvefn1g5BOweGHSTQwPbvRtw6nMOrtCLNYZ3R0zK02VThWCuOqG8meaKgsKL_fDuNt9eOBWP9Fv0gLYYy5nJRIgwt_SGvvf-QRBTrijOsKzbLLUYtkXA/s2523/cricketB%2011sep.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="2523" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZV0QuHMUmaPwkdFsu7o9BUK4pE7w9GQeKLy-mXZDPQYR0OqMstnRPSqcpnKTrgVn6TrWvefn1g5BOweGHSTQwPbvRtw6nMOrtCLNYZ3R0zK02VThWCuOqG8meaKgsKL_fDuNt9eOBWP9Fv0gLYYy5nJRIgwt_SGvvf-QRBTrijOsKzbLLUYtkXA/w406-h216/cricketB%2011sep.JPG" width="406" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">The fact
that it’ll be October tomorrow just about sums up how the traditional 4-day
county championship has essentially become shoe-horned into the very beginning
and end of the cricket season (and to think that, back in 1929, Neville Cardus
described cricket as “The Summer Game”!). I’m embarrassed to say that during
the course of the season, I only attended TWO games (a day at each… my other
attempt was completely rained off)(my ‘home’ side, Gloucestershire play just
five county championship games in Bristol all season).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Gloucestershire
had an awful season (understatement!). After being relegated from Division 1
last year, they came bottom of Division 2 (even Yorkshire – who had 50 points
deducted following the recent racism inquiry – finished above them!).<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Gloucestershire’s playing record for
the season makes for dismal reading: Played 14, Won 0, Lost 6, Drawn 8.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">I have to
say, from my rather limited experience of watching Division Two cricket this
season, the quality of the cricket has been pretty ‘ordinary’ to say the least.
One significant difference that I’ve noticed is the far greater percentage of
draws in Division 2 compared with Division 1:<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">DIVISION 1:
140 games, 48 draws; percentage of drawn games: 34.3%<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">DIVISION 2:
112 games, 68 draws; percentage of drawn games: 60.7%<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In other words, Division 2 games are
almost TWICE as likely to end in drawn games compared with Division1.<br /></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Why should that be?<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it related
to the lack of talent (mediocre batters and mediocre bowlers)?<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it
related to ‘better players’ not being attracted to join second division clubs?<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it
related to poor captaincy (being prepared to ‘play safe’)?<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it
related to poor coaching/inability to attract quality coaching staff?<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it
related to the lack of ambition/leadership (and/or finance) of the clubs?<br /></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Answers on a postcard, please…</span></b><p></p>
<br /><p></p>bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36249894.post-80038227368167547752023-09-29T05:48:00.005+00:002023-09-29T05:50:40.010+00:00cricket #1: membership fees…<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcsWJiOCSU5PiHTSfK7OaVUk8a8fESbUmyp8MEWMCA-fcfRVCoaXi4BUA-1qSjD7mutg-7JdPT4_KIEjdJQsjnQ7Cz1Z9vo05oEpkal8MC2VDwMsOgn-jLGFGduO7eMZBRCmdEmY1363_qT4fLuUks8-yw9REqozoiF0myz90AEWt9M3TgxYw-A/s1130/cricket%20rain%2011sep.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="1130" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcsWJiOCSU5PiHTSfK7OaVUk8a8fESbUmyp8MEWMCA-fcfRVCoaXi4BUA-1qSjD7mutg-7JdPT4_KIEjdJQsjnQ7Cz1Z9vo05oEpkal8MC2VDwMsOgn-jLGFGduO7eMZBRCmdEmY1363_qT4fLuUks8-yw9REqozoiF0myz90AEWt9M3TgxYw-A/w397-h205/cricket%20rain%2011sep.JPG" width="397" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Today is
the last day of the English cricket season…<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">As I’m sure
you will appreciate, if you’ve ever read any of my previous blogs on
cricket(!), it seems that I remain one of the few cricket lovers who would
still much prefer to watch a 4-day County Championship game in preference to
all the Twenty20 Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup matches.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Although,
for various reasons, I only attended two days of Gloucestershire five home
games in Bristol this season, I continue to feel frustrated by the club’s
stance when it comes to membership/season tickets (I assume it’s the same for
most of the clubs).<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Full Gloucestershire
CC membership for this season was some £256 (which provided entry to all home
County Championship, Vitality Blast matches, One-Day Cup matches and Cheltenham
Cricket Festival games)… and there
was a separate One-Day membership for £133 (Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup
games).<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I would be happy to sign up for
membership if only they had a ‘County Championship only’ category (which on a
basis of £256 minus £133 could be available for say £123)… BUT there isn’t one!<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ve previously written to the Club
committee, but they tell me they had previously considered the matter, but
decided against it.<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">On the two
occasions I attended this season in Bristol, the ticket price was £21. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I would
estimate the number of spectators at the two games I attended this season to be
say 250 (ridiculous!). The vast majority of these will have been members. In
the circumstances, it seems to me that the club should be doing EVERYTHING
POSSIBLE to attract bigger crowds and allow people like me to attend regularly
at a reasonable price.<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">In your dreams, Steve… in your dreams!<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">There are 7
four-day home County Championship games (5 in Bristol, 2 in Cheltenham). Let’s
say that I would attend two days of each of the Bristol games (allowing for
rain and my own incredibly hectic schedule!) - on the basis of a daily £21
ticket, that’s 5x2x£21 =£210. Sadly, I wouldn’t be prepared to pay such a sum…
BUT allow me to purchase a ‘County Championship only’ membership for say £120,
and I would happily do so (and the club would also benefit from the resulting
increased beer+pasty sales!). The more spectators they can attract, the more
beer and food revenue they will accrue… the better the atmosphere in the ground
etc.<br /></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s seems an absolute no-brainer to
me… but what do I know?<br /></span></b><i><span style="font-family: arial;">PS: Most cricket-lovers would agree
that the County Championship provides an important basis for developing young
talent for the England Test team. From a county’s perspective, however, it’s
entirely understandable that the Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup matches are the
ones that attract the crowds… and the revenue. As a result, the County
Championship fixtures are largely relegated to the months of April, May and
September. If that’s the case, to my mind, they should be doing everything
possible (ie. financially) to attract spectators to this less desirable time of
the year. <br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: arial;">I’m well aware that vast majority of
these spectators will be old codgers like me… but don’t knock it! There’s
something rather wonderfully therapeutic about us oldies gathering under our
several layers of clothing, sipping our beers, watching the cricket and
remembering the ‘olden’ days.<br /></span></i><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Are
they afraid that membership income will be reduced due to Oldies like me opting
for the ‘county championship games only’?</i></b> </span><p></p>
bigdaddystevieBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00842346891905135070noreply@blogger.com0