This is an event being organised by the Havant Literary Festival Society, of which I am the treasurer. I have tickets and can be contacted directly or the tickets can be bought on the door. The event clashes with the third performance of "Bronte" at the Arts Centre so this is one way of reconciling the fact that I personally haven't sold sufficient tickets. Watch this space for news of other events designed to raise the profile of the Havant literary Festival in September 2008.Monday, April 21, 2008
Literary Festival Event
This is an event being organised by the Havant Literary Festival Society, of which I am the treasurer. I have tickets and can be contacted directly or the tickets can be bought on the door. The event clashes with the third performance of "Bronte" at the Arts Centre so this is one way of reconciling the fact that I personally haven't sold sufficient tickets. Watch this space for news of other events designed to raise the profile of the Havant literary Festival in September 2008.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Me in my Pompey shirt
Me and this shirt went up to the semi final at Wembley in April 2008. We are both hoping to be able to go to the final on May 17th.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
London Visit
The trip to London went well. Best Beloved and I realised this was one of very few occasions we had been up together alone. I have made solo trips in the past or we have made lots of trips with other people. However, this was the first time in a long time, we had travelled up to London together as a pair and by train. It was a good feeling and a good experience.
I bought a ticket for the Wednesday matinee of "Gods of Carnage" and am now looking forward to a return visit to the capital this week. The Best Beloved wants to get on with props making for her "Bronte" production so is allowing me to go up unaccompanied. I hope to write a 250 word (or thereabouts) review on my sister page, Bench Hamlet 2008, before the end of the week.
We visited the National Portrait Gallery to gaze at the portrait of the three Bronte sisters painted by their brother, Branwell. He eventually painted himself out and then the painting was lost. It was found about 80 years later in 1914 by the second wife of Rev Bell Nicholls folded up on top of a wardrobe. The painting has an almost medieval look and shows the limitation of Branwell's artistic technique, especially in a gallery surrounded by wonderful examples of contemporary Victorian portraiture. We spent some time in the Victorian galleries as this was the period of history I studied long ago. The great Whig and Tory statesmen beam down from the walls. sprinkled with the occasional radical or Liberal reformer.
We went downstairs to the contemporary portraits and the Camera Press Gallery. Camera Press is 61 years old, having started in 1947. Part of the exhibition is contemporaries who were born in 1947. I must admit that year was a particularly good vintage. I may no longer be fit for purpose and the old virility is not what it was, but I can be good company. Or at least I have often found myself to be so on my solo excursions or rambles - is that eccentricity or mental instability, I hear you ask?
The exhibition that really caught my eye was Underexposed, photographs of black actors by Franklyn Rodgers. This is several triptychs, which rotate through a sequence. Each photograph is beautifully and remarkably lit. Each photograph is accompanied by a comment from the actor or actress about their craft or art. The beauty of the photographs and the depth contained in the simple statements about acting contained everything I need in art and I could have watched the sequence through again and again. You can see what I mean if you visit http://www.4therecord.org.uk/index.aspx?pageid=41.
We found the Cockpit Theatre and a nearby little Italian restaurant. I have a little collection now of Italian restaurants in London; Da Mario's, Carluccio's, Da Paolo's. The Zonzo is not quite in the same class but it does sit exactly opposite the Paddington Green Police station, the most secure police station in the UK. Therefore the Zonzo is a quiet little establishment up near the Edgeware Road tube station on the Bakerloo line (north from the station) which I can recommend.
And so to the Showcase. We spotted the agents in the audience immediately. They were the ones with all the CVs gathered together in neat sheaves and organised in order of the pieces we were about to see. Fourteen duologues and one monologue were lined up taking in a couple of Pinters, a Marber, an Austen and a couple of film scenes, whose titles I recognised, such as "A Life Less Ordinary" and John Fowles' "The Collector". I have just realised that the two film scenes quoted contain a kidnapping and a young woman chained to a radiator. Am I revealing further examples of eccentricity or mental instability or peccadilloes? I love that last word but I had to look up its definition: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/peccadilloes.
Anyway the evening began and I realised that the choice of material revealed a theme of sex anyway. It isn't just me, you know? There was a parade of very pretty and attractive young women either interacting with men, such as the scene from Marber's "Closer" , or with other young women ,such as the scene from "Sense and Sensibility". Now don't get me wrong here - in most circumstances, I welcome an array of pretty women (see me yesterday at the Mad Dog registration day talking to 5' 4" air hostesses, young but head turningly good looking) - but after a while the appeal wears off. As an audience I need more and the scenes were brief and a lot of the acting didn't start until the scene was well underway and sometimes hadn't started when the scene had finished. I felt a bit of a Simon Cowell coming on and 45 years of non-professional theatre was weighing heavily upon my shoulders. Kat was appearing top of the bill in an excerpt from "Birthday Party". My parental nerves were being stretched and it was with almost a sense of relief that we arrived at her duologue. I know I am highly prejudiced but it was the best performance of the night. The performance and characterisation started offstage and it was Meg who appeared as the scene started. She wrung laughter and pathos from the part. The scene got audience reaction, which had been lacking earlier, and both Kat and Andrew also added the Pinter menace for good measure. I am proud of my girl, not just because she is my girl, but because she is an awesome actress. I watched her later in the week rehearsing the part of Charlotte Bronte with enormous integrity and emotion. The difference in roles was marked but she carries both off with real style and verve. Kat has the makings of a good professional actress, she is talented and has lots of technical ability, and I hope she is motivated enough to make a go of it in a very tough world.
It was certainly heartening to see one of the agents make a beeline for Kat in the bar afterwards and engage her in a very long conversation.
Over on my 'Bench Hamlet 2008' blog I review "Speed-the-Plow" and "God of Carnage" as mentioned above.
I am also a fully signed up member of the Mad Dog Casting Agency and met several interesting people (beside the 5' 4" air hostess) while we were all being filmed by a BBC3 camera crew. Hopefully job opportunities will now start to come my way - yyyyyayyyyy!
I bought a ticket for the Wednesday matinee of "Gods of Carnage" and am now looking forward to a return visit to the capital this week. The Best Beloved wants to get on with props making for her "Bronte" production so is allowing me to go up unaccompanied. I hope to write a 250 word (or thereabouts) review on my sister page, Bench Hamlet 2008, before the end of the week.
We visited the National Portrait Gallery to gaze at the portrait of the three Bronte sisters painted by their brother, Branwell. He eventually painted himself out and then the painting was lost. It was found about 80 years later in 1914 by the second wife of Rev Bell Nicholls folded up on top of a wardrobe. The painting has an almost medieval look and shows the limitation of Branwell's artistic technique, especially in a gallery surrounded by wonderful examples of contemporary Victorian portraiture. We spent some time in the Victorian galleries as this was the period of history I studied long ago. The great Whig and Tory statesmen beam down from the walls. sprinkled with the occasional radical or Liberal reformer.
We went downstairs to the contemporary portraits and the Camera Press Gallery. Camera Press is 61 years old, having started in 1947. Part of the exhibition is contemporaries who were born in 1947. I must admit that year was a particularly good vintage. I may no longer be fit for purpose and the old virility is not what it was, but I can be good company. Or at least I have often found myself to be so on my solo excursions or rambles - is that eccentricity or mental instability, I hear you ask?
The exhibition that really caught my eye was Underexposed, photographs of black actors by Franklyn Rodgers. This is several triptychs, which rotate through a sequence. Each photograph is beautifully and remarkably lit. Each photograph is accompanied by a comment from the actor or actress about their craft or art. The beauty of the photographs and the depth contained in the simple statements about acting contained everything I need in art and I could have watched the sequence through again and again. You can see what I mean if you visit http://www.4therecord.org.uk/index.aspx?pageid=41.
We found the Cockpit Theatre and a nearby little Italian restaurant. I have a little collection now of Italian restaurants in London; Da Mario's, Carluccio's, Da Paolo's. The Zonzo is not quite in the same class but it does sit exactly opposite the Paddington Green Police station, the most secure police station in the UK. Therefore the Zonzo is a quiet little establishment up near the Edgeware Road tube station on the Bakerloo line (north from the station) which I can recommend.
And so to the Showcase. We spotted the agents in the audience immediately. They were the ones with all the CVs gathered together in neat sheaves and organised in order of the pieces we were about to see. Fourteen duologues and one monologue were lined up taking in a couple of Pinters, a Marber, an Austen and a couple of film scenes, whose titles I recognised, such as "A Life Less Ordinary" and John Fowles' "The Collector". I have just realised that the two film scenes quoted contain a kidnapping and a young woman chained to a radiator. Am I revealing further examples of eccentricity or mental instability or peccadilloes? I love that last word but I had to look up its definition: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/peccadilloes.
Anyway the evening began and I realised that the choice of material revealed a theme of sex anyway. It isn't just me, you know? There was a parade of very pretty and attractive young women either interacting with men, such as the scene from Marber's "Closer" , or with other young women ,such as the scene from "Sense and Sensibility". Now don't get me wrong here - in most circumstances, I welcome an array of pretty women (see me yesterday at the Mad Dog registration day talking to 5' 4" air hostesses, young but head turningly good looking) - but after a while the appeal wears off. As an audience I need more and the scenes were brief and a lot of the acting didn't start until the scene was well underway and sometimes hadn't started when the scene had finished. I felt a bit of a Simon Cowell coming on and 45 years of non-professional theatre was weighing heavily upon my shoulders. Kat was appearing top of the bill in an excerpt from "Birthday Party". My parental nerves were being stretched and it was with almost a sense of relief that we arrived at her duologue. I know I am highly prejudiced but it was the best performance of the night. The performance and characterisation started offstage and it was Meg who appeared as the scene started. She wrung laughter and pathos from the part. The scene got audience reaction, which had been lacking earlier, and both Kat and Andrew also added the Pinter menace for good measure. I am proud of my girl, not just because she is my girl, but because she is an awesome actress. I watched her later in the week rehearsing the part of Charlotte Bronte with enormous integrity and emotion. The difference in roles was marked but she carries both off with real style and verve. Kat has the makings of a good professional actress, she is talented and has lots of technical ability, and I hope she is motivated enough to make a go of it in a very tough world.
It was certainly heartening to see one of the agents make a beeline for Kat in the bar afterwards and engage her in a very long conversation.
Over on my 'Bench Hamlet 2008' blog I review "Speed-the-Plow" and "God of Carnage" as mentioned above.
I am also a fully signed up member of the Mad Dog Casting Agency and met several interesting people (beside the 5' 4" air hostess) while we were all being filmed by a BBC3 camera crew. Hopefully job opportunities will now start to come my way - yyyyyayyyyy!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Showcase
I was going to dazzle you with a photo of me in my new Pompey shirt but I couldn't find it when I wanted it. Mind you, after Pompey v Newcastle on Saturday, when we played like the away team and missed out on the chance of closing the gap on Everton, it may have been a psychological omission rather than a technical one.
I have finally succeeded in adding 2GB of memory chips to my computer rather than the measly 256MB it arrived with. Thank you, Trevor, for the advice, and thank you ,Crucial, for the chips and installation guide.
We are off to the Cockpit Theatre in NW8 today to see Kat perform in a showcase after her work with the London Actors' Workshop over the last three momnths or so. You can read snippets of her activities on her blog, Adventures in Blogland (see links to right). She has to be there from 1.00 p.m. so the Best Beloved thought we would make a day of it ourselves. We intend booking a matinee seat for "Gods of Carnage" this Wednesday. We are visiting the National Portrait Gallery to look at the Bronte family portrait, which has dominated our lives for the last few months (see Bench Hamlet 2008 in links for up to date news of the production). I had hoped to pick up Robert Holman's play, "Jonah and Otto", from the National Theatre Bookshop but may have to postpone that until Wednesday as the Best Beloved doesn't think we will have time to do it today. I suppose we will have to find somewhere to eat in NW8 so she could be right! She usually is but it doesn't make it any easier to take!
I was a bit glum on my last posting especially about the old school. Since then I have been able to have a conversation with an ex colleague and that has cheered me up enormously. She reassured me that I was still a "honorary Waitender" and that felt good to hear. You do get a feeling of dislocation at times in retirement, which is maybe why I have become a more fervent supporter (I am not sure that is possible but it helps my argument) of Pompey this season. I had expected to throw myself with greater fervour and effort into the Bench Theatre, but that hasn't materialised as I expected. I am working hard on trying to get John Sawtell elected as a LibDem councillor here in Bedhampton but feel a little ignorant as to the rules of engagement. I have lived in Bedhampton for an awful long time but it is only now that I could tell you which streets comprise Bedhampton and what issues beset the place. Being a Waitender for 21 years was time consuming and I knew more about the school and its catchment area than I did about the place where I live. It is a danger that all my ex colleagues should be wary of and that a private life (the desired work/life balance) is of the utmost importance as a person and as a professional. I am now looking forward to the evening meal being planned for the retiring headteacher and will probably behave disgracefully!
I have finally succeeded in adding 2GB of memory chips to my computer rather than the measly 256MB it arrived with. Thank you, Trevor, for the advice, and thank you ,Crucial, for the chips and installation guide.
We are off to the Cockpit Theatre in NW8 today to see Kat perform in a showcase after her work with the London Actors' Workshop over the last three momnths or so. You can read snippets of her activities on her blog, Adventures in Blogland (see links to right). She has to be there from 1.00 p.m. so the Best Beloved thought we would make a day of it ourselves. We intend booking a matinee seat for "Gods of Carnage" this Wednesday. We are visiting the National Portrait Gallery to look at the Bronte family portrait, which has dominated our lives for the last few months (see Bench Hamlet 2008 in links for up to date news of the production). I had hoped to pick up Robert Holman's play, "Jonah and Otto", from the National Theatre Bookshop but may have to postpone that until Wednesday as the Best Beloved doesn't think we will have time to do it today. I suppose we will have to find somewhere to eat in NW8 so she could be right! She usually is but it doesn't make it any easier to take!
I was a bit glum on my last posting especially about the old school. Since then I have been able to have a conversation with an ex colleague and that has cheered me up enormously. She reassured me that I was still a "honorary Waitender" and that felt good to hear. You do get a feeling of dislocation at times in retirement, which is maybe why I have become a more fervent supporter (I am not sure that is possible but it helps my argument) of Pompey this season. I had expected to throw myself with greater fervour and effort into the Bench Theatre, but that hasn't materialised as I expected. I am working hard on trying to get John Sawtell elected as a LibDem councillor here in Bedhampton but feel a little ignorant as to the rules of engagement. I have lived in Bedhampton for an awful long time but it is only now that I could tell you which streets comprise Bedhampton and what issues beset the place. Being a Waitender for 21 years was time consuming and I knew more about the school and its catchment area than I did about the place where I live. It is a danger that all my ex colleagues should be wary of and that a private life (the desired work/life balance) is of the utmost importance as a person and as a professional. I am now looking forward to the evening meal being planned for the retiring headteacher and will probably behave disgracefully!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Advance, Australia
Australia has increased the pressure on the UK to grant asylum to Iraqi interpreters who have worked with our forces by offering resettlement to those who have worked with Australian forces in Iraq.
The Australian government will grant permanent humanitarian visas to Iraqi citizens whose lives are in danger because of their work with Australian forces.
Why, oh why, can't we do the same? We owe these people a debt of honour and I would still like to believe that the English respect a debt of honour. I know we can be one of the most cynical nations on the planet but fair's fair.
Martina Hyde, in a recent Guardian article, was writing about Englishness, and our concept of nationhood. She quoted from a Second World War poster and I admit it caught my attention and interest. "Keep calm, and carry on."
It appeals to me because I have always believed in the sentiments of the "If" poem and have used them throughout my life as a sort of moral bearing.
"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same:"
"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build' em up with worn-out tools:"
"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
"If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"
Thank you, Rudyard Kipling.
The Australian government will grant permanent humanitarian visas to Iraqi citizens whose lives are in danger because of their work with Australian forces.
Why, oh why, can't we do the same? We owe these people a debt of honour and I would still like to believe that the English respect a debt of honour. I know we can be one of the most cynical nations on the planet but fair's fair.
Martina Hyde, in a recent Guardian article, was writing about Englishness, and our concept of nationhood. She quoted from a Second World War poster and I admit it caught my attention and interest. "Keep calm, and carry on."
It appeals to me because I have always believed in the sentiments of the "If" poem and have used them throughout my life as a sort of moral bearing.
"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same:"
"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build' em up with worn-out tools:"
"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
"If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"
Thank you, Rudyard Kipling.
Monday, April 07, 2008
PUP
I had a really exciting four days at the end of last week. It makes blogging worthwhile to be able to recount some of the bittersweet experiences of yours truly. Be prepared for a long read, O faithful reader!
I suppose Wednesday's experience really began on Tuesday April Fool Day with a series of texts and phone calls. A friend and Waitender, Carole Cunningham, had promised me that good luck would come my way at the beginning of April. The cynic in me sneered and indeed on that very same Tuesday I had turned down lucky heather from a gypsy lady in Havant Market. How could I have so badly misjudged you, Carole? Mind you, seeing the date, I did think the first text message was a hoax and that you were not beyond sending it yourself, Carole!
The text read: " MAD DOG are looking for men to be extras in a new film shooting over the next fortnight. Please call Brett if you can attend a casting tomorrow. (Phone number given)" Mad Dog Casting are one of the agencies with whom I had shared my information last year. They wanted to know if I was available for a casting audition on the Wednesday. Of course I said yes on the phone and dropped everything in order to get up to London that Wednesday. I had to take my passport with me to prove I was eligible to work in UK. I decide not to go up by train as there are still problems on the line to Waterloo and i didn't fancy twiddling my thumbs for two hours on the train. I, therefore, took the car up to Wimbledon and used the Tube to get me to Kentish Town. I have used the Wimbledon route many times but still have to check that I have taken the right exit past Wimbledon Common. I had a cornish pasty at Wimbledon station and hurtled across London. I got to Mad Dog at about 12 noon so took about three hours to get there. The casting took about 30 minutes of an interview with Brett, mainly concerned with getting all my details for where my pay would go, and a photocall. The film is being directed by Richard Linklater and stars Zac Efron and Claire Danes. They have been filming on location in the UK but next three weeks are at Pinewood Studios. The film is set in the Thirties. No one will be asked to work the full three weeks but we are all on standby for occasional days here and there. We will be phoned by Roger, the Team Manager, if and when we are needed. There was a steady stream of people as I was at Mad Dog but fingers crossed I could be one of the lucky ones to get a phone call. If not at least I have been seen by Mad Dog and am now firmly on their books so am in with a chance of future films. I do hope I get a chance on this one though as it would kickstart my film extra CV a treat. I am now awaiting that phone call. It can come as late in the day as 5.00 p.m. depending on the filming schedule and director's decisions relayed to the second assistant director who is in charge of hiring extras. The second assistant director contacts Mad Dog and they phone us to say, "You are wanted at Pinewood Studios at ....... in the morning. You should report to........ at..........." After that, you have to make sure you are there on time and prepared to spend a 10 hour day doing very little except wait around for your scene. You hope you do a good enough job that if the second assistant director needs more extras the next day or in a few days he asks Mad Dog to send you.
That was Day One of my exciting four days and though a bit of an anti climax had set in on the way back from Wimbledon I owe my chance to a lucky email from Carole Cunningham. Part of the anti climax was that I have had some really exciting days out centred around trips starting at Wimbledon and this wasn't quite in the same league.
The next day, Thursday, I was picked up by my county councillor, Councillor Ann Buckley, at 0700 a.m. and taken to Winchester. I was privileged enough to be allowed to sit in on the LibDem pre-meeting before the April County Council Meeting in the Great Chamber. The LibDems are the main opposition party in Hampshire with an even smaller Labour representation. Hampshire is a Conservative stronghold. Sitting in the public gallery, I was reasonably interested in the motions and debates and watching the traditional workings of the full County Council. Most of the really important work is done by the Cabinet and in committees. However it got a bit tasty when the party politics hove into sight. Apparently an absent LibDem and made a political comment in a LibDem election broadsheet that upset the Conservatives and the Leader of the Council. Until then I had almost forgotten that he was also the leader of the Hampshire Conservatives as well as Leader of Hampshire County Council. Harsh words were exchanged between Party Leaders. I am still not convinced that party politics have any real place in local government but haven't developed my ideas on that matter too clearly yet. Anyway I was very grateful to Anne for a most interesting day out and I found a pound coin in Winchester High Street. I intend buying a lottery ticket with it as my luck seems to be in.
I have covered about 500 houses in Bedhampton over the last week or so giving out election leaflets on behalf of John Sawtell, the LibDem candidate, for whom I am - and get this, folks!- his political agent.
So that was my second busy day and on Friday I had rather a sad experience. I attended the farewell assembly for my old headteacher at Waite End Primary School. I had retired in December 2006 and she was taking early retirement at the end of the Spring Term 2008, of which Friday was the last day. I had sworn blind that I would never go back into school under any circumstance and some ex colleagues, especially the same Carole Cunningham as above, had wagered I wasn't going to turn up. In the circumstances, I thought the loyalty I owed to Anita Williamson was greater than my promise never to darken the doorstep. I had spent more time together with Anita than either of us had with our spouses over the years we worked as a management team. The children and staff gave her a great assembly and a great sending off. She managed to hold back the tears though her grown up daughter and the chair of governors were both seen to blub copiously. Apparently my presence hadn't been expected so as I entered the assembly hall I was instantly aware of my name being whispered by the children who had once been in my own class back in 2006. I was greeted warmly by my ex colleagues and was shown around the newly decorated school even as prospective candidates for the now vacant headship were being shown around by my successor as deputy head. I was even invited to the pub with the staff, who were looking forward to letting their hair down after a long and strenuous term. I turned down their kind offer as I was beginning to feel an outsider. The school had changed, I had changed and my ex colleagues had changed. I envied their collegiality but knew I could no longer be a real part of their team but was only an onlooker, a supporter on the sidelines. Some of those colleagues had been as close to me as my family and it was with real reluctance and a sense of anti climax that I dragged myself away. I still have that sense of loss three days later.
On Saturday I was at Fratton Park at 0600 a.m. waiting to board a coach to Wembley with the Natty Chap, Geoff and Matthew. The four of us were on Coach 26 and soon on our way to London. I texted this information home via the landline and unfortunately Kat was a bit p****d off to get an automated message at 0630. I ask you - I only thought my family would be interested in which coach I was travelling in case there was one of those dreadful crashes on the motorway - I was only trying to save them unnecessary worry after all! We reached Wembley at about 0830 and took another 30 minutes to go round it to park in the coach car park. The stadium didn't open until 1015 so we joined the Pompey blue masses swarming up and down the Olympic Way as Wembley Way seems now to be called. we met up with other members of the Natty Chap's family, we ate unhealthy cheeseburgers, we joined in the raucous but good natured song of the somewhat limited Pompey repertoire, we met hundreds of people we knew from all different walks of life and other interests. It is amazing that despite going to several home game sin a season and meeting some people on a weekly basis such as exercise classes it still came as a shock to find them at Wembley as well. I never found Terry the Tiger but there was young Alan, one of the youngest (40's?) and fittest members of our rehab exercise class stuffing his face with a cheese covered hot dog. I tried to reprimand him, Debbie, but I was stood in the cheeseburger queue at the time. Finally we were allowed into the stadium. God it looked enormous on the outside but once we were through the stringent security (they removed the top from my water bottle and frisked me and searched my shoulder bag) and up the escalators to Level 5, we saw the sheer size and magnificence of the seating and pitch. I had worried that we would be so far away and so high up it would be like watching a subbeteo game. However it was nothing like that although I did get touches of vertigo and panic attacks whenever balloons drifted past me. The stadium filled with supporters and we certainly seemed to have more blue clad Pompey supporters than the Baggies had. Over and over again we sang the Pompey chimes and worked our way through the limited but stirring repertoire of Pompey football songs. The game started and Pompey were crap in the first half! Obviously 'Arry Redknap had a go at them in the interval and we sang even louder and more supportively than ever. The two wide players moved in to stifle the Baggie midfield and lo and behold we scored one hell of a scrappy goal. My Little Bro watching on telly at home texted me to tell me it was handball by Milan Baros and shouldn't have been allowed to stand as a goal. However we in the stadium didn't care and the Pompey Chimes, "Play Up Pompey, Pompey Play Up", rang and rang around that stadium. The Pompey luck which had seen us through so many stages of the FA Cup this season was still with us and perhaps 2008 is the year with Pompey's name on the cup. The exit down several flights of stairs surrounded by several thousands of Pompey fans singing "the Blue Army" raised the hairs at the back of my neck. It was tribal and primitive and I was a part of it.
We are now waiting to see what the arrangements are for tickets for the Final between Pompey and Cardiff City managed by ex Scummer, Davy Jones (not he of the Monkees). The numbers for fans of the two clubs are reduced for the Final as the FA use the tickets as a way of thanking its county and grassroots FA members. I am hoping that Natty Chap can once more work his magic and that we shall be there on May 17th. PUP! Play Up Pompey!
Mam's birthday on Sunday the 6th and we raised a glass at the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding family dinner cooked by yours truly. She would have been 91 this year but died shortly after we married and had been too ill to attend our wedding. I am not sure she would have recognised the son who has turned his hand to roast lamb, roast pork, roast goat and roast chicken dinners during the Best Beloved's recuperation period. I think she believed me to be a lazy b****r even if she loved me. I still am, Ma, but have just got better at disguising it as at disguising so many other things!
I suppose Wednesday's experience really began on Tuesday April Fool Day with a series of texts and phone calls. A friend and Waitender, Carole Cunningham, had promised me that good luck would come my way at the beginning of April. The cynic in me sneered and indeed on that very same Tuesday I had turned down lucky heather from a gypsy lady in Havant Market. How could I have so badly misjudged you, Carole? Mind you, seeing the date, I did think the first text message was a hoax and that you were not beyond sending it yourself, Carole!
The text read: " MAD DOG are looking for men to be extras in a new film shooting over the next fortnight. Please call Brett if you can attend a casting tomorrow. (Phone number given)" Mad Dog Casting are one of the agencies with whom I had shared my information last year. They wanted to know if I was available for a casting audition on the Wednesday. Of course I said yes on the phone and dropped everything in order to get up to London that Wednesday. I had to take my passport with me to prove I was eligible to work in UK. I decide not to go up by train as there are still problems on the line to Waterloo and i didn't fancy twiddling my thumbs for two hours on the train. I, therefore, took the car up to Wimbledon and used the Tube to get me to Kentish Town. I have used the Wimbledon route many times but still have to check that I have taken the right exit past Wimbledon Common. I had a cornish pasty at Wimbledon station and hurtled across London. I got to Mad Dog at about 12 noon so took about three hours to get there. The casting took about 30 minutes of an interview with Brett, mainly concerned with getting all my details for where my pay would go, and a photocall. The film is being directed by Richard Linklater and stars Zac Efron and Claire Danes. They have been filming on location in the UK but next three weeks are at Pinewood Studios. The film is set in the Thirties. No one will be asked to work the full three weeks but we are all on standby for occasional days here and there. We will be phoned by Roger, the Team Manager, if and when we are needed. There was a steady stream of people as I was at Mad Dog but fingers crossed I could be one of the lucky ones to get a phone call. If not at least I have been seen by Mad Dog and am now firmly on their books so am in with a chance of future films. I do hope I get a chance on this one though as it would kickstart my film extra CV a treat. I am now awaiting that phone call. It can come as late in the day as 5.00 p.m. depending on the filming schedule and director's decisions relayed to the second assistant director who is in charge of hiring extras. The second assistant director contacts Mad Dog and they phone us to say, "You are wanted at Pinewood Studios at ....... in the morning. You should report to........ at..........." After that, you have to make sure you are there on time and prepared to spend a 10 hour day doing very little except wait around for your scene. You hope you do a good enough job that if the second assistant director needs more extras the next day or in a few days he asks Mad Dog to send you.
That was Day One of my exciting four days and though a bit of an anti climax had set in on the way back from Wimbledon I owe my chance to a lucky email from Carole Cunningham. Part of the anti climax was that I have had some really exciting days out centred around trips starting at Wimbledon and this wasn't quite in the same league.
The next day, Thursday, I was picked up by my county councillor, Councillor Ann Buckley, at 0700 a.m. and taken to Winchester. I was privileged enough to be allowed to sit in on the LibDem pre-meeting before the April County Council Meeting in the Great Chamber. The LibDems are the main opposition party in Hampshire with an even smaller Labour representation. Hampshire is a Conservative stronghold. Sitting in the public gallery, I was reasonably interested in the motions and debates and watching the traditional workings of the full County Council. Most of the really important work is done by the Cabinet and in committees. However it got a bit tasty when the party politics hove into sight. Apparently an absent LibDem and made a political comment in a LibDem election broadsheet that upset the Conservatives and the Leader of the Council. Until then I had almost forgotten that he was also the leader of the Hampshire Conservatives as well as Leader of Hampshire County Council. Harsh words were exchanged between Party Leaders. I am still not convinced that party politics have any real place in local government but haven't developed my ideas on that matter too clearly yet. Anyway I was very grateful to Anne for a most interesting day out and I found a pound coin in Winchester High Street. I intend buying a lottery ticket with it as my luck seems to be in.
I have covered about 500 houses in Bedhampton over the last week or so giving out election leaflets on behalf of John Sawtell, the LibDem candidate, for whom I am - and get this, folks!- his political agent.
So that was my second busy day and on Friday I had rather a sad experience. I attended the farewell assembly for my old headteacher at Waite End Primary School. I had retired in December 2006 and she was taking early retirement at the end of the Spring Term 2008, of which Friday was the last day. I had sworn blind that I would never go back into school under any circumstance and some ex colleagues, especially the same Carole Cunningham as above, had wagered I wasn't going to turn up. In the circumstances, I thought the loyalty I owed to Anita Williamson was greater than my promise never to darken the doorstep. I had spent more time together with Anita than either of us had with our spouses over the years we worked as a management team. The children and staff gave her a great assembly and a great sending off. She managed to hold back the tears though her grown up daughter and the chair of governors were both seen to blub copiously. Apparently my presence hadn't been expected so as I entered the assembly hall I was instantly aware of my name being whispered by the children who had once been in my own class back in 2006. I was greeted warmly by my ex colleagues and was shown around the newly decorated school even as prospective candidates for the now vacant headship were being shown around by my successor as deputy head. I was even invited to the pub with the staff, who were looking forward to letting their hair down after a long and strenuous term. I turned down their kind offer as I was beginning to feel an outsider. The school had changed, I had changed and my ex colleagues had changed. I envied their collegiality but knew I could no longer be a real part of their team but was only an onlooker, a supporter on the sidelines. Some of those colleagues had been as close to me as my family and it was with real reluctance and a sense of anti climax that I dragged myself away. I still have that sense of loss three days later.
On Saturday I was at Fratton Park at 0600 a.m. waiting to board a coach to Wembley with the Natty Chap, Geoff and Matthew. The four of us were on Coach 26 and soon on our way to London. I texted this information home via the landline and unfortunately Kat was a bit p****d off to get an automated message at 0630. I ask you - I only thought my family would be interested in which coach I was travelling in case there was one of those dreadful crashes on the motorway - I was only trying to save them unnecessary worry after all! We reached Wembley at about 0830 and took another 30 minutes to go round it to park in the coach car park. The stadium didn't open until 1015 so we joined the Pompey blue masses swarming up and down the Olympic Way as Wembley Way seems now to be called. we met up with other members of the Natty Chap's family, we ate unhealthy cheeseburgers, we joined in the raucous but good natured song of the somewhat limited Pompey repertoire, we met hundreds of people we knew from all different walks of life and other interests. It is amazing that despite going to several home game sin a season and meeting some people on a weekly basis such as exercise classes it still came as a shock to find them at Wembley as well. I never found Terry the Tiger but there was young Alan, one of the youngest (40's?) and fittest members of our rehab exercise class stuffing his face with a cheese covered hot dog. I tried to reprimand him, Debbie, but I was stood in the cheeseburger queue at the time. Finally we were allowed into the stadium. God it looked enormous on the outside but once we were through the stringent security (they removed the top from my water bottle and frisked me and searched my shoulder bag) and up the escalators to Level 5, we saw the sheer size and magnificence of the seating and pitch. I had worried that we would be so far away and so high up it would be like watching a subbeteo game. However it was nothing like that although I did get touches of vertigo and panic attacks whenever balloons drifted past me. The stadium filled with supporters and we certainly seemed to have more blue clad Pompey supporters than the Baggies had. Over and over again we sang the Pompey chimes and worked our way through the limited but stirring repertoire of Pompey football songs. The game started and Pompey were crap in the first half! Obviously 'Arry Redknap had a go at them in the interval and we sang even louder and more supportively than ever. The two wide players moved in to stifle the Baggie midfield and lo and behold we scored one hell of a scrappy goal. My Little Bro watching on telly at home texted me to tell me it was handball by Milan Baros and shouldn't have been allowed to stand as a goal. However we in the stadium didn't care and the Pompey Chimes, "Play Up Pompey, Pompey Play Up", rang and rang around that stadium. The Pompey luck which had seen us through so many stages of the FA Cup this season was still with us and perhaps 2008 is the year with Pompey's name on the cup. The exit down several flights of stairs surrounded by several thousands of Pompey fans singing "the Blue Army" raised the hairs at the back of my neck. It was tribal and primitive and I was a part of it.
We are now waiting to see what the arrangements are for tickets for the Final between Pompey and Cardiff City managed by ex Scummer, Davy Jones (not he of the Monkees). The numbers for fans of the two clubs are reduced for the Final as the FA use the tickets as a way of thanking its county and grassroots FA members. I am hoping that Natty Chap can once more work his magic and that we shall be there on May 17th. PUP! Play Up Pompey!
Mam's birthday on Sunday the 6th and we raised a glass at the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding family dinner cooked by yours truly. She would have been 91 this year but died shortly after we married and had been too ill to attend our wedding. I am not sure she would have recognised the son who has turned his hand to roast lamb, roast pork, roast goat and roast chicken dinners during the Best Beloved's recuperation period. I think she believed me to be a lazy b****r even if she loved me. I still am, Ma, but have just got better at disguising it as at disguising so many other things!
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