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| Backwards In High Heels |
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My new aliums put on a great display in the front garden, in fact there's been some great blooms in my garden so far this summer. I took some snaps weeks ago but never got around to putting them on my blog so here they are, belatedly. A brightly coloured flower makes my heart sing but I have to grow them as no-one ever buys me them (cue violins).
There is a long standing debate as to whether woman are funny both as performers and writers. And the answer is yes. /debate.
But why is this in my mind? Well I've recently been submitting to Newsjack and am very pleased some of my material has got through to the recording stage even though it didn't make the edit for the broadcast show...yet. Newsjack has an open door submission policy and is a great initiative by the BBC to bring on new writers. Three episodes in and if you look at the contributors list so far you will see it is overwhelmingly men.
I certainly don't think it is a conscious decision by the producers and editors - far from it. Having had the pleasure of BBC comedy workshops and knowing in this accessible age of e-mail they soak up material sent to them and who sent it in is a secondary regard, there is no secret selection committee.
My suspicion is men are just braver or more deluded or more conceited ;) when it comes to sending material in. Have you ever met a man who doesn't think he is bloody hilarious? I'd love to know what the statistics of the submissions are. I think a lot of woman hold themselves back when it comes to comedy, frightened of coming across self-righteous, rude and/or bitchy. Luckily I have no qualms about these three qualities in myself.
I know some fantastically witty, observant and clever woman who in everyday life crack me up. Ask them to give writing comedy a go with me and they won't. Is being a (deliberately) funny woman not seen as feminine or attractive?
Well one woman who was funny to the core was the great Molly Sugden. I am unashamedly an Are you Being Served? fan and Mrs Slocombe's pussy has earned a deserved spot in comedy history. But, my favourite performance by this great character actress was when she played the extremely snooty Mrs Hutchinson in The Liver Birds. The following YouTube tribute is very sweet, I actually shed a tear watching it. Miss Brahms and Mrs Slocombe reunited to provide heaven with knickers!
So I went to see The Killers at Hyde Park on Friday night, having been wowed by them at the NEC back in February. It was fair to say I was a touch excited to see them again but I’m afraid this post is going to turn into a self-indulgent rant. In summary: on rude, judgemental people. But before that… It was wonderful to see The Killers again and I really enjoyed their performance but to be totally honest it was no-where near as good as their NEC performance. If memory is working it was the same setlist and a good solid set on the whole but a large swathe of the crowd (whom I shall massacre with words later) didn’t make it easy for them. Knowing Brandon can be a nervous performer at the best of times, he did at moments come across uneasy and as if he’d had one Dutch courage too many. He certainly wasn’t the duracell bunny, easy-going Brandon from February. And from a hormonal and shallow point of view – David still turns my mind to x-rated mush. So musically, good, not great. Now for the bitchy rant. The event attracted a large number of knobs. I can’t be bothered to give them a flowery description when knob covers it so well. But there again before I got into the arena I was reminded of the wonderfully unfriendly and snotty nature that a certain London set breeds. To paint a picture, I went to a rather minor public school. I have fond memories of my school days, where I did very well, and as I went to enter the arena I spotted a face I hadn’t seen in 20 years. Now being jolly and nice I called across to this old classmate and went to say hello and reminded her who I was and the fact we’d been at school together. You see I envisage when you run into such people it goes like this ‘hello, you look well (even if they don’t), nice to see you, I hope life is treating you well, hope you enjoy your day, goodbye’. She looked at me as if I was something she’d stood in as the hooray Henriettas with her starred at me as if I’d just escaped from Holloway and was carrying an axe. Obviously I looked like I was going to mug them for their alice bands. So the immediate atmosphere is that I’m a pork chop at a Jewish wedding. Still, because I’ve been brought up nicely I still smile and say she hasn’t changed a bit (to which she grunts ‘well I don’t know if that’s a good thing’) and we walk through the turnstiles. ‘We’re thinking of reunion at the end of the year’ I cherrily chirp, which gets the sharp reply ‘I won’t be here’. I stand at the other side of the entrance putting my things in my bag and happily ready to do the ‘well it was nice seeing you (sic) goodbye’. She walks through, totally blanks me and walks off with her sloane rejects from 1986 without so much as a by your leave! Isn’t it nice to know that some things never change and those in a certain set, there by accident of birth, continue to look down at the rest of us like shit in the certain knowledge (in)breeding will always count for more than manners?! I hate such rudeness, so this did not sweeten my mood. I look at my friends and they cover every social spectrum and whatever system they have today for judging ‘class’. My Christmas card list covers addresses from council house to literally a castle and I love everyone of them and happily introduce them to one another as I can confidently say they are all open minded, loving and non-judgemental people and for this fact I am extremely grateful.. Yes I am a snob – a manner’s snob! And sadly I found the crowd was made up of a bunch of clones, none of whom seemed to be able to get dressed without Sienna Miller’s permission coupled with Peaches Geldof style pouting. I missed the memo that said ‘though shalt only wear pumps or gladiator sandals as worn by Kate Moss’. They sat round in their little groups, squealing, but not interacting with the other squealing groups. It just all felt tso unfriendly and rude. ‘Hard Rock Calling’ and I didn’t see one other person with coloured hair which was quite amusing especially when seemingly the only black guy in the entire crowd came and sat next to us so we could be minorities together!! I just hope there was a good band of proper music lovers and real fans of the groups up front as on the outer reaches it was Pimms swillers constantly on their phones, screeching that they were ‘oh wow, like at a festival’. I felt it was extremely hard for Brandon and the group to really get a decent interaction with the whole crowd. I should have heeded the signs as I walked over to Hyde Park when I was followed in by Mr & Mrs Okay Yah whose conversation included the gem Mrs Okay Yah: 'I don't think I know them'
Mr Okay Yah: 'Yes you do, they sing the song about the man looking like Jesus’
When that was said, somewhere an angel had its wings ripped off. And so for the evening I was surrounded by drunk London types who wittered all through the set, off their tits on Pimms and got excited during the 3 songs they actually knew. I’d made my escape to the second tent for Echo & the Bunnymen earlier on, which seemed to act as some sort of ‘knob filter’. There were very few of us in there. A lovely couple stood by me and I sensed a kindred spirit! My faith was restored and when we clicked we’d both been at Download it was like finding a soulmate in a sea of bland! She was a London person and said it was always like this but being local she could nip in and out, blinkered to those only there because it was part of some social calendar, but she was saying this was also the same brand of new festival goer that had overtaken Glastonbury hence she no longer bothered going there. And breathe…..rant over! The weather was nice ;)
Oh heck, I've been having a road to Damascus time of late and am making (not so) startling revelations about what I want, what I'm worth and who I want to be!
To put it concisely I have decided to put myself first. This means making changes regarding work, my priorities and time. Time is quite a biggie here - I've let myself be leached of my time by others. You may find this hard to believe but a lot of the time I have been far too bloody nice! In fact someone I work with pointed it out to me a little while back, it maybe because we are very similar and he gives me the advice he needs to take himself too! I think we may be co-dependant people pleasers!
Anyway after a wonderful time working at the Download Festival and being surrounded by friends and people who are loving, open minded, talented, non-judgemental, supportive and inspiring a small ember that was already burning was given more oxygen.
So this new timetable needs to be practical (I need to earn money) but I have to put a value on my time. More time for writing, more time for working in slightly different avenues than I have in the past and the time to study these new opportunities and the skills I need. I suspect it may lead me back to blogging (hurrah!), I feel I'm going to be ranting and panicking and worrying before returning to ranting - what better place to do that than on a self-indulgent blog?!.
But enough of using this as a free therapy session. Did I mention how wonderful Download was?
Well here's one bit from the weekend. To explain, The Blackout were playing over the weekend and having not given them a great deal of time they totally won me other. Part of this was when I was invited to the Radio 1 live broadcast where they played a couple of acoustic numbers and impressed me both with the songs but also their fantastically amiable personalities.
The day after I interviewed Sean (one of the singers). Now the interview was just on dictaphone and for my notes as opposed to be broadcast. During the interview we sidelined and he wrote a note and autograph to my friend's niece (I tell you - lovely lad!). We were talking about their acoustic performance the day before (which followed Corey Taylor from Slipknot appearing on the radio broadcast). Now, I have tried (feebly as I don't really know what I'm doing!) to edit it down so you can hear some of the interview with Sean, so not great quality and not a great interviewer (I just waffle at people!) but enjoy!
I am currently addicted to butternut squash - it is the vegetable that has everything. Totally versatile, a beautiful colour, full of goodness and yes, everytime I buy it I giggle a bit at the shape...
The other day I used the bottom section and stood the remainder on a plate for another day. When I came to use it again, I couldn't lift it off.
The sap of a butternut squash and the vacuum it causes could have uses in NASA I am sure. It was stuck fast to that plate and would not budge.
It was like the vegetable retelling of Arthur and the Sword in the Stone. Eventually I got it free so I may be the rightful leader of the Britons. But I did use a knife as leverage so that may void my claim.
Anyway just in case, I suggest you curtesy when I enter the room from now on.
A new bra has been invented which is designed to give you a boob boost when you are sexually aroused. On paper a marvellous plan. You see Mr Right (Now) and it's hello boys. Supposedly it works with memory foam and detecting a slight raise in temperature.
But surely there is scope for a full on cleavage disaster? You meet Mr Right and after the first flushes of chest heaving everytime you see him, it settles down. You forget your bra is reactionary. Things get serious. Time to meet the parents, you walk in and BOING, Hello Daddy. Not a great start...
And on the matter of things sexual - just had more viagra spam and today's subject line is 'feeling like superman, nothing can stand in your way'. Yes it can, kryptonite which I am sure if you covered with a condom would still floor superman.
It's that time again - an 'eugh' story in the news with the report a 66 year old woman is due to be Britain's oldest mother after undergoing IVF abroad. But maybe she has hit on a credit crunching, environmentally friendly idea to replenish the population.
1 - It will only take one journey to the post office to pick up her pension and the child benefit.
2 -A whole new boom business could be created: mobility scooters-cum-pushchairs. I reckon we could build them at Longbridge thus putting lots of men back into employment
3 - With the older parents taking up the population replenishment, all those of working age can work without the hassle of maternity leave etc. There'll have to be a huge workforce to cope with the increased demand for soft biscuits which is the staple diet of young children and OAPs as they watch daytime TV - another growth area. There'll be new channels like Countdown 24 to launch.
4 - The build up of old person and young baby flatulence in one house could easily be syphoned off and used as an alternative fuel.
5 - There'll come a time when mother and child can share clothes. Mother will think its still in fashion, child will think its 'retro chic'.
6 - When she hits her 80s and her teenage child has to make a decision on where to put her - easy. She can just join them in University halls of residence. She'll feel at home sleeping all day, popping pills and getting so disorientated she pisses in the sink.
These plants never fail to amuse me. Yes it is juvenille, yes I should know better at my age but come on, they are funny.
The London curse did not rear its ugly head - it had a good go but I slayed it and on Monday I got to the BBC comedy workshop. It was well worth it, we had a brilliant set of script editors guiding us through the day and were made to feel very welcome and inspired. That said I still managed to botch the end of my sketch but it did get its fair share of laughs at the evening performance.
I certainly came back feeling like I had a kick up the behind, in a good way. Perhaps it's old age but I am getting less tolerant of people taking advantage of my good nature (yes I do have one, don't pull faces) and I have to give more time and credance to following my ambitions. Ever notice the more you give of yourself, the takers actually show less apprecitation?
Well, no more. I am looking at my life as timetable and blocking off me time (I wonder if other freelance people who work from home identify with this?).
But let's not turn this into a moan of a blog when Monday was so helpful and positive. It was so good to be able to pick the brains of them that does and share a table with others who want to!
The evening performance was great fun and as well as having our sketches performed Lawrence & Gus tried out some of their new material which we'd been hearing rehearsed in the background back at the comedy dept. What we hadn't realised at the time was it was Lawrence & Gus, we thought it was the other half of the workshop who were just a lot better than us...
Workshop aside, there wasn't much time for anything else but loved the view from the hotel thanks to being on the 14th floor and even managed to find a few minutes for retail therapy and food at St Pancras which is looking great after its upgrade. The last time I was in London, St Pancras was still a worksite. Oh and for good measure - 2 Japanese tourists walked past me with face masks on and two French school children ran up to them and went 'aitchoo, aitchoo, aitchoo'.
So two weeks on and the Miele (without changing a bag - they're deceptively large) was still sucking like a <too rude a simile>.
I decided it would be fun to do a quick test. We've all seen them on the TV adverts were things are cleaned with one wipe. Well on a test piece of carpet I put talc, sugar and rolled oats. But no I didn't just sprinkle them on, I stood on them then got down on my hands and knees and worked it in with my fingers. I was just going to take some before and after shots for fun but as you'll see two problems:
1 - Peggy decided to try the rolled oats (and add a few cats hairs for good measure)
2 - the talc dust in the air and the light reflecting from the mirror was causing orbs in the pictures which made it look like a scene from Most Haunted.
So, I filmed it with the mobile phone - hence not Spielberg quality but you get the impression. It didn't pose a problem for the Miele at all. What I really like (and anyone who has stray cat litter or biscuits will appreciate this!) is it doesn't 'spit' out at the sides when it vacuums up such things - look how it just sucks up the rolled oats.
Mum, she of the herniated discs and fibromyalgia, is 'driving' in the video and as you can see the cleaner really flows and corners easily, which is why she too would have happily kidnapped it for good. Whilst it stayed with us she put it right up behind our regular cleaner in the understairs cupbaord - I think she was hoping they'd mate.
Back to the messy carpet test - just a few lengths of vacuuming, back on my hands and knees, and there wasn't a speck of talc, sugar or oat to be found.
It went back today :( . I *heart* that cleaner.
