Quick, call the style police...

I have an uncle who lives in Canada, now the only surviving Grey on my Father's side. He is perpetually known as uncle Allen, even though he is 78.

I've been to Canada a few times on business, two of them for extended periods. I was based in a small town in Ontario called Belleville, whilst he lives in Mississauga, a suburb of Toronto. Being 125 miles, it is regarded as a short distance in North America.

Last time I visited his apartment, I took a(n anti-) shine to a really hideous piece of furniture, something to rival the Coronation Street duckworth's Bar in its kitsch naffness. It features an electric fire on a hearth and the surrounding mantlepiece is actually a Radiogram. I think the Canucks call this the "Colonial" style.

Anyway, I came across the photo recently and felt a bizarre urge to share it with the Interweb.

The clock, however, I like, for sentimental reasons. That was my Granddad's and I used to have one myself that I bought in an antique shop in Maidenhead. It chimes the hour and possibly the quarters as well.

First records...

Graham at work tells us that this was his first record. (Although his was the Mamas & Papas version).



We had a lad at school called Geoff , or more frequently, Paddy (Patterson). He started knocking around with two lads called Peter & Paul so inevitably- he was nicknamed Mary...

My first record was Jake the Peg, backed with Sun Arise, by Rolf Harris. I swapped it for my Space Hopper on Radio Newcastle Swap shop when I was about 11 or 12.



I'll tag all of the BlogPowersphere to pick up their first record meme.

(Spacehopper image from Museum of Childhood)

Clear White Light

We have now got better quality, whiter light in our streetlamps where we live in Morley.

I can't think of a more fitting song...

A load of rubbish

Leeds introduced wheelie bins into Morley in the mid nineties. They were sold on the benefits of increased capacity and making it permissible to include garden waste. In return, we were expected to wheel them to the kerbside on collection day.

A couple of years later, green recycle bins were launched. The collection, however, was on alternate weeks, black then green. There was still quite a restriction on what was recyclable then (cans, foil, paper) and the end result was that everyone's black bin was overflowing by collection day and the green bin was half empty.

After a year or two, they had a rethink and changed the system. They went back to weekly black bin collection and a four week cycle for green. This worked out fine, but over time and with the expansion of allowable contents (cardboard, plastic types 1/2/4, carrier bags) we found that four weeks was now too long. Leeds were happy to let us have a second green bin and we now pretty much manage to fill both of them, bolstered by the vast quantity of junk mail we still get despite being on all of the preference services.

A couple of years back, Leeds decided to fit RFID tags to the bins, to help with future management decisions. I'm not aware that they have done anything useful with this, however, and seeing as how bins occasionally go missing and others get reclaimed, their database will not be particularly accurate. (There is a rogue green bin in our street that has traces of number 21 on it but has been disowned by that house).

It now appears that we will be moving to fortnightly green collection as well as offering glass and garden collections- this is to be welcomed as we can then get rid of our extra green bin. I don't think our black bin has enough capacity for two weeks of rubbish though, and I don't see us making any significant lifestyle changes that would make us turn into the Good Life or weave our own yoghourt.

I saw a feature on Craggers on the Beeb the other day and it strikes me that greenery is starting to show symptoms of mental illness, or at least some form of mass delusional hysteria.

The computer press describes green energy as pointless tokenism (there is so little of it in the UK) and there is even green gas now- the extra you supposedly pay goes on sustainable energy projects. (Sustainable bandwagon non-job projects, more like, or even scams!)

(Bin image lifted from- rampantscotland.com)

Low key showbiz

In complete contrast to the Supertramp Gig, the Summer of 1976 was rather flat with the diary fairly empty at the City Hall. There were two things to look forward to on the horizon though- our new lighting and sound installation, and a two week residency at the nearby Gosforth Civic Hall, a fairly new building replacing the ghastly flat floor asbestos clad Central hall which burnt down in the early 70s. (I did see a couple of am-dram shows there and had my first attack of stage fright.)

The custodian at the Civic had a fortnight holiday and Colin had been asked to cover there for a number of events, mostly weddings and parties. I leant a hand and he split any tips he got with me. I took great pleasure in relamping everywhere and fixing anything that needed attention, as well as setting the stage lighting to best effect for the events.

It also had two backstage dressing rooms in a locked off area that were a handy hidey-hole for a bit of peace and quiet during the evening.

Our first proper show back at the City Hall was Richard Stilgoe, supported by a Christian group called Nutshell. (I still have the album they gave me, called "In your eyes", I have never played it!) Colin and I were sitting Front Circle with our new lighting & Sound desks and there were only about fifty people in the audience downstairs.

During the first couple of songs, they had some real problems tuning up and staying in tune. During a protracted tuning session and several apologies, I shouted out "Do you want to borrow a welder?"

Colin sat there chuckling right until the interval. When I commented to him that it wasn't that funny, he said that the funny bit was that it was me that had shouted it, being so out of character!

An early career crisis

Supertramp played Newcastle City Hall as part of a thirty date sellout for their Crisis? What Crisis? tour in 1975/76.

I don't recall the exact date, but I know I was only a few weeks away from my Mock "A" levels in the upper Sixth Form so it was probably November.

(There is a Supertramp time line online here but it has gaps in it).

The reason I remember it so vividly is because I was offered the chance to tour with them as road crew. Let me fill in the story some more...

In 1974, Supertramp released their seminal Crime of the Century Album and it rapidly became a favourite album amongst those of us at school into progressive stuff (ELP, Pink Floyd, Genesis, Yes, Jethro Tull, Rick Wakeman even). Many of our school colleagues were into much heavier stuff (Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix) and to them Supertramp was a bit too "soft rock" but to those of us with an ear for sensitive melody and thoughtful lyrics, Supertramp were a delight.

They followed it up with the Crisis? What crisis? Album, the quote being (wrongly) attributed to Jim Callaghan, the then Prime Minister, returning from holiday into the midst of industrial strife in the run up to the eventual Winter of Discontent. The album cover featured someone sunbathing under a yellow parasol in what looked like a burnt out industrial wasteland.

I had bought the new album a few weeks before the gig and was getting nicely into it. I had been looking forward to the Gig ever since I had seen it listed on Moose's typed bookings list as Crime Of The Century was still my favourite Album at the time.

In advance of the Gig, I was told about how Supertramp were not like other bands. Most shows hired in the sound and lighting from the big name tour production Companies arranged by the Promoter as a package, generally with Edwin Shirley Trucking for the logistics and sometimes with a catering Company. Supertramp, however, owned most of their equipment in order to contain costs and paid the crew directly rather than through others. (Roxy Music were another Band that did something similar, they had a their own PA).

Come the day, the get-in was a fairly regular affair, although they also rigged a black backing drape (a curtain) with screen behind. Once the humping had finished, I offered to stay on, hoping to see the Band appear and sound-check in due course. Sitting near the mixing desk whilst the channels and speakers were checked out, I suddenly realised that the people nearby with Wives and Children were the mainstays of the Band, Rick Davies and Rodger Hodgson. They both had beards and Rodger looked rather Jesus-like despite wearing Jeans and a T shirt. They were also cool enough to say hello. (Contrast that with those of massive ego who insisted on the venue being cleared before they would sound check- Elton John, Freddie Mercury, Paul MacCartney).

Suddenly, they realised that they had a mini-crisis. As well as an electric Piano, Rick had a touring hammond Organ with a large traditional Leslie speaker in a polished wood cabinet and the Leslie had big problems making graunching noises. A Leslie speaker is a full range phase effect unit which contains spinning horns and sound drums to vent the music out from the speakers producing a distinct spacey sound via the doppler effect (where the pitch of a horn changes in an oncoming car that passes you). It is the mainstay of blues organ (Think Booker T & the MGs) and it was essential to Rick Davies' sound on certain songs. Someone from a music shop in the Handiside Arcade was summonsed and offered much Wonga to put it right again.

I then leant a hand focussing the lights onstage, holding a large metal A-frame ladder whilst the lighting designer (the Lampy) nipped up and fine-tuned the positioning. In the middle of this, as time was pressing, the band decided to come on and sound check around me. Dougie Thomson, the Bass player, was standing right next to me tuning up and was fingering various riffs. In the middle of it I recognised the distinctive sound from hide in your shell which is only four repeated notes (Dah-Dohw-dah-Dooooooaaaaaaooowww) but really deep and compelling. I gave him a big grin, he winked back, then suggested to the others they check using Hide in Your Shell so I was in near rapture holding this ladder in the middle of my favourite supergroup playing my favourite song!

All too soon they cleared the stage and we carried on focussing. We continued to gingerly move the ladder around the stage. I was just about to step back when the lampy said "Freeze!" I stopped, looked behind me and saw that I was about to stand on a badly positioned guitar... That could have been very career limiting!

We were relaxing afterwards and we were talking about lighting design and what a pile of poo the house rig was. He then made me an extremely generous offer- If I wanted to I could light the support band from their front of house lighting desk (an Electrosonic Rockboard, complete with Cigar lighter, a de-facto desk of the 70s) and using the House Follow Spots. Was I up for it? I couldn't believe how generous he was being. We had got on OK but I was just a 17 year old kid with a lighting obsession. Was I up for it? Course I was, even if I wasn't getting extra money for it (as it happened, I did get the show rate). He limited me to a number of presets (the back truss washes) so as not to use up all of the visual effects but that was fine, the other crew members were up for it as well on the follow-spots.

He then dropped his second bombshell offer- the road manager came over and asked if I would be interested in coming along for the rest of the tour? They were one short on the stage crew and I'd just be a dogsbody but I seemed to know what i was doing and if we liked each other, there was the chance to tour with them worldwide in the Summer...

I have to say that I thought long and hard about it for a few minutes. This was my favourite band and if I wanted to work in show business then crewing with a band at the peak of their success was a great leg up, rather than doing all that bottom feeder stuff like theatre in education and the Krankies do Pontins. I then thought about the down side. Life on the road is hard work, stressful, disorienting, insecure and full of risk. I had seen so many roadies turn up out of their heads on hash (or harder) and not knowing what City it was. I was also in the run up to my mocks and to give up school then would have effectively thrown away my 6th form and chance of going into higher education. I was planning to do Electrical & Electronic engineering at Newcastle Poly which would have meant that I could hopefully have continued being on the City Hall Crew for several more years. Also, whilst I loved rock & roll, by real love was theatre rather than concerts. I swallowed the bitter reality pill, sanity prevailed and I said "Thanks, but no thanks".

By now, it was nearly time to let the punters in. I asked about the support act- a Band called Joan Armatrading and the Movies. They suggested that I go and talk to them so I made my way to their dressing room and asked what kind of lighting they would like. The Movies were indulging in a rather dodgy home made cigarette (sickly sweet smell...) and Joan Armatrading looked extremely uncomfortable with them doing so! (She probably wasn't endeared with the idea of sharing a dressing room with six blokes either...). She seemed pleased that someone had actually taken the trouble to ask her what she would like and the Movies were too busy worrying about where the Mars Bars were to offer an opinion. Mellow, smooth, blue for a particular song were the directions.

Anyway, the first half passed without incident, a very good set tastefully lit my Moi, ably assisted by the CSI guys up top. I don't recall very much about it now other than that I thought Joan Armatrading had a great voice, a great guitar talent and would go far (and indeed she did). It felt very strange sitting out front in the middle of the audience to light a show, I had been used to being in the Wings or in a Control Box at the back of the balcony.

At the interval, my job was done and I could enjoy the main show. Supertramp didn't use Follow-Spots, although they had asked if it was OK to use one as an effect at the end of a particular song (Not quite right, a song about mental health). They might not get round to using it they said but we were fine. Just before the House Lights went down, one of the crew came on with a large yellow parasol and raised it behind the drum riser, that got a big cheer...

The show was superb, clear sound and tastefully lit. When Not Quite Right came on, I nipped up to the back of the balcony to strike up one of the CSIs, just in case they used it. (They take a minute or so to reach full brightness). Spot on time, one of the crew appeared to do the cue. It was tight on Rick's hands as he did a piano playout riff that went a bit awry, then the beam did a sort of St. Vitus dance up the backcloth and was extinguished as the cuckoo notes were played. Succinct, visual and clever!

Whilst the show was brilliant, there was one downer- John Anthony Heliwell, the Saxophonist. He was the voice of the band and he came over as a bit of a tosser, a cross between Timmy Mallett and Alan Partridge. At one point he sung the Alphabet Song wrapped in Tivoli lamps and his lighting cue was "Turn me on man!" He was a great horn player though...

The final song of the show was "Crime of the Century" and this included a video sequence. (Actually 16mm film, video projection was in its infancy in the mid 70s). As the song built up to its long and laborious climax, we drifted through a star field of unknown space. Eventually a small blob appeared and resolved itself as we got closer into a pair of hands at the bars of a celestial cage. This expanded to fill the screen then we were through and into space again, a real tingles down the spine moment. (I have a more recent supertramp DVD and they still use this visual effect, although it also includes other Supertramp motifs like tightropes and shears as part of the progression).

They may have done an Encore, I don't recall. The crowd left ecstatic but of course we still had work to do.

The get-out was unremarkable and rather tiring. As the truck doors were closed and they were ready for the off, the crew wished me well and hoped to see me again.

Unfortunately, next time they came in November 1976, I had been sent to Coventry, but that is another story...

The Barbecue Police

Over at spiked, Nathalie Rothschild tells the story of how Camden's barmy PC event rules threatens a long established Summer Festival by stifling it through bureaucratic nonsense.

Story HERE (You all come back now!)

This is the sort of thing that has turned me off getting involved in community events.

I'd suggest Primrose Hill Community Centre sticks two fingers up to the council and raises the money privately.

And that Camden Council concentrates on what it does least worst;- emptying the bins.

Now a short musical interlude

Note- you have to play this at YouTube, click picture to watch it.

Where have Master Bates, Roger the Cabin Boy and Seaman Staines got to?

Snopes says they are an urban myth.

Now something a bit more relaxing...

(This song always reminds me of Captain Digger Scrotum and his unfeasibly large Organ...)

Scott Adams- the Anti-Corporate Presenter

Every day, I get my Dilbert Fix. I often read Scott's Dilblog as well.

Now, I know what he sounds like...

Pretty much like I expected. Great presentational timing, although he is a bit of a martyr to visual aids...

A non-schmaltsy Disney film!

Yesterday, we went to see Bridge to Terabithia, a Disney Film that is rather un-Disney-like. It has some escapist fantasy moments but the characters are all too real, real life intrudes in many gritty realistic ways and there is a part where they don't live happily ever after after all. Also- not a talking anthropomorphic animal in sight!

It tackles the difficult issues of bullying, growing up, neglect, stifled aspirations, death and friendship through adversity. It is thoughtful and enjoyable, painting an interesting picture of contemporary American rural life.

I enjoyed it enough to want to track down the book, and it is always better to see the film first as movies are no match for imagination in their abridged offerings.

Recommended, take your kids if they are beyond CBBC.

Photogenics

The Thongster complains that the current batch of photos are "unphotogenic".

In response, I put up this, still tasty, after all these years...

(Chip, I don't fancy yours much, although she is Welsh...)

Photo from Wiki.

MØØSECRAP

I have previously mentioned a character called MØØSE and the little gadgets he used to make to make music (or noises) on.

I came across an old photo of vintage Mǿǿsecrap, assorted odds & sods and some old Tannoy PA stuff (particularly that turntable).

He really did label it Moosecrap!

Domestic crisis averted...

The problem of the collapsing kitchen light has now been satisfactorily resolved. I even managed to find one that took the correct lamp. (The old ones took an R63 size but the suitable efficient lamps were too gloomy so they were fitted with R80 lamps instead).

There was a downside, however. My favourite T shirt is now on the slippery slope to threadbare oblivion. I bought it at Disney Florida in 1995 and after twelve years it is past its best.

Tonight, after I cleaned up the plaster dust, the other members of my family group independently started laughing hysterically when they saw me. I knew I had a fine coating of plaster in my hair but I didn't think it would have looked that funny.

Then they pointed out my "Wardrobe malfunction".

I can't wear that at the next dress-down day, the bin beckons...

We have a domestic crisis...

This happened last night after some fairy elephant movement from David upstairs.

I've bodged it three times and three times it has done SPADOIIING!!!

An emergency trip to B&Q is imminent...

How to stop the Wife reading the Blog...

...put up a picture of Dean Friedman!

(She is a bit of a Deanophobe)

Karen has promised a rebuttal:

Another blast of Efteling

After anguishing over what to upload, I eventually lobbed a load of pictures & video snippets into a folder and let PowerDirector do its magic via the wizard tool.

Here is a four minute precis of our trip last weekend and for a random compilation it is rather pleasing.

(I recycled the Flying Dutchman theme though).

Almost gone- but not forgotten

In amongst the mediafest of Blair's departure, Raedwald reminds us of unfinished business likely to come back and haunt the Labour Party.

In case they had slipped your mind:

* Cash for Honours
* State Funding
* Navy hostages Board of Enquiry
* Birmingham terrorist raids leak
* ID cards fiasco
* EU treaty
* CSR 07

Read the details here

More fairy tales

Dream Flight is a delightful ride through at efteling, designed and themed in-house. You travel in suspended carriages through a fairytale wonderland with much to look at accompanied by mellow themed music. There is even a bit of a thrill when you spiral down at high speed through a forest towards the end. There is a good Wikipedia entry here.

I tried to take some on-ride photos but the light level was too low. I quickly swapped over to video mode and present that footage below.





In the inevitable gift shop, a cornucopia of fairy gifts were available.

This one didn't have a price tag!

Meanwhile, if you want to see political fairy tales, see Gordon Brown go down the pan over at Morleygate

Clobber a Dobber

I first heard the term Dobber from a Dave Spikey routine. It is a Chav variant and the people are generally fat, stupid and ignorant, a sort of Chav underclass. His routine refers to an imaginary shop selling rubbish clothing, which he wanted to call "Dobber Clobber".

Anyway at Efteling, I was amused to come across a sideshow called "DobberBal"

Do you throw the balls at Dobbers, or is it expressly for Dobbers, I wondered?

You have to get the ball into the buckets which move and have a dobber in them already to make it trickier.

The girl manning the stall was very bemused with me taking a photo of her stall!

(Online translation tells me that Dobberbal means floating ball, but I think my translation is better...)

Turning Japanese, I'm really turning Japanese I really think so...

Your Japanese Name Is...

Hiroshi Imaidegawa

What's your Japanese Name?

Hat tip the hairy ozzie scot.