Dave Gorman

Monday, June 11, 2012

You know when people support their local theatre...

Ejector Seat, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

... and in return they get their name under one the seats?

Well hats off to whoever sponsored this seat at The Plough Arts Centre in Great Torrington. No vanity for them. No recognition. Just a giggle.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Cagoule & The Gang

In August last year, while in Edinburgh, I found myself caught in a horrendous rain shower without a coat of any kind. Edinburgh weather can do that to you. I ran for cover and found myself in a high street clothes shop. I was on my way to do an interview that I knew was going to be filmed and so, rather than turning up like a drowned rat, I decided to buy a cheap waterproof jacket from the shop in question.

Here it is:

I have no problem using the word 'cagoule' to describe it. That's what it is. It's a cheap raincoat. I still wear it on occasions. Because it is very light it has been especially useful in the last few weeks of travelling in the delightful British summer weather. I can stuff it into a bag without it weighing me down or costing me space and if it rains - which it frequently has - then I'm okay.
In all the many times I've worn it, I've never had a sense that anyone has ever looked at me and thought anything other than, "oh look, that man is wearing a cagoule."

But that changed recently. While I was in Australia the second series of John Morton's sublime Twenty Twelve was shown on BBC4. I loved the show and luckily I had the foresight to set the Sky Plus for it... but it's taken me until recently to find the time to watch and enjoy.

In one episode, the storyline involved a young British hip hop star recording a song as part of an Olympics related campaign. And at some point, that character appeared as a guest on BBC Breakfast.

This is what he was wearing:

Astute readers will immediately spot that he is wearing my coat. So will non-astute readers. If your eyes are looking at the two pictures you can't not realise. (I imagine real hip hop stars are rarely seen wearing coats that cost fifteen quid... so hats off to the show's wardrobe department for dressing their cast so cost-effectively. But that is by-the-by.) What I want to know is how the same coat manages is a cagoule on me, but is cool on him?

But that's not where the strangeness ends. As Mrs G and I returned from our trip to Lewes the other day we walked, dragging a small suitcase behind us, through the streets of East London. As we did so we were approached by two young tracksuited men. They were carrying CDs and flyers. They set about trying to interest us in a gig that night. A hip hop show. When we declined the offer on the grounds that we were on our way home with our luggage they offered us CDs.

"That's odd," I said to Mrs G, when we'd walked a few yards past them. "Why would anyone look at me - a 41 year old man in a cagoule - and think I might be into hip hop?"
We paused. We both knew the answer. It was the coat.

This is the story that inspired this morning's radio show - and I was amazed by the number of people who had seen their own things on other TV shows. Thanks to everyone who sent an email, a tweet, a text, a facebook message or a carrier pigeon. You made me laugh a lot. Which is a good thing because I was knackered after last night's long drive back from Dudley.

Incidentally, the two songs I brought from home were:

Lucky... by Lettie.

She’s one of those people who seems to flit into the orbit of all sorts of other performers without ever quite getting the attention she herself deserves. She’s worked with all sorts of interesting people – including Chris Difford of Squeeze. (I mention him in particular for a reason – because he’s going to be joining us on the show next week alongside comedian Norman Lovett to tell us about the tour they’re currently doing together – I’m looking forward to that.)

And:

Orion's Belt by The Robbie Boyd Band.
I've been listening to them a lot this last week. I'm hoping to get along to The Borderline to see them live on my day off from the tour - June 26th.

I'm rambling a bit. Probably because I haven't had time to stop and reflect. After the radio show - and after the podcast - I had to dash straight to the train station in order to board a train to Manchester because tonight the show returns to The Lowry... and I'm typing this out as we speed our way north.

I imagine the podcast will be out by now. You can get it here. Swindon tomorrow. We have a day off on Tuesday. But then the rest of the week it's Harrogate, Ipswich, Belfast, London and Tunbridge Wells ... and, of course, there's more to come.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Tour Photos...

Hello Hayes! (That's Hayes as in Middlesex, not Kent or Melvin)

... and then "ello, ello, ello Hayes!"

To get to Hayes I took a train and then a bus and then a short cut across some grass to get into the back of the venue. I'd been there for two minutes when these two chaps turned up because they'd seen someone "acting suspiciously" at the back of the theatre.

Having confirmed that it was me they went on their way with a smile.

Nice chaps.

Hello Dartford!

Where my pre-show darting did this. A good omen. And a nice show too.

While I'm here and posting photos... this:

I wish they'd bloody let it outside.

Treorci tonight. Or Treorchy if you prefer. Dudley tomorrow... then back that night to do the radio show on Sunday morning before scooting up to Manchester for The Lowry on Sunday night... and then Swindon, Monday.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

There's A-Jubilation, A-Sweeping The Nation...

We've had a few days off the tour over this long weekend as it seemed a tricky time to try and get anyone's attention. (We start again tomorrow.)

Mrs Gorman also had a bit of time off - just the Monday - but even so, enough for us to try to take advantage during what is a pretty busy time for us both.

So, when my radio show was finished on Sunday I scooted off to meet Mrs G at a train station and we headed off to Lewes. (As readers of DGvsTRoTW will know, I like it there)

Our train passed over the Thames on the Cremorne Bridge at Chelsea where huge crowds were gathered to watch the flotilla go by. From the comfort of the train it didn't look like a particularly fun day out. The river and sky seemed to be matching shades of grey while the crowd - who had nothing much to look at yet - looked like a cold, wet shivering mass of red, white and blue.

When we arrived in Lewes we found a sunny day waiting for us. It was dry the next day too. We ate and drank well, we played Toad in the Hole (not a euphemism), we walked up a mountain and generally had a fun and relaxing time. As we left on Monday we witnessed our first three drops of rain... but when we got back to London we found the capital was dry once more. We definitely had the best of the weather.

Our motivation wasn't to avoid the Jubilee - we'd have barricaded ourselves indoors and turned the TV and radio off if that was the goal - but it was two days of fun that were completely uninformed by the Jubilee. Which is fine by me because I find it impossible to get into the whole worshipful side of things. I just don't get it. (I don't mind in the slightest - as I've travelled around the country these last few weeks I've loved seeing all the red, white and blue and I'd love it if the public buildings stuck with it when the Jubilee and the Olympics have passed... but enjoying the side-effects and the pageantry isn't quite the same as enjoying the motivation behind it all).

I don't know many people who are ardent royalists. I don't know many people who are ardent republicans either. I don't think most people care all that much. I think most people think the idea of changing things would be all a bit too complicated so while they appear to be a relatively decent bunch we might as well just keep on having them as not... after all it does seem to bring in the tourists etc etc.

I tweeted something along those lines a couple of days ago, saying "never before have so many people celebrated so loudly something they're not all that bothered about really" (or similar) and was most surprised by the reaction.

The majority of people who replied seemed to think they were being contrary when they said things like, "Actually, I think you'll find I'm celebrating the fact that we've got two bank holidays!" - which, of course wasn't contrary in the slightest and only served to underline the point I was making.

But others were angry and told me off. If I didn't appreciate the Queen, I was told, I was welcome to go and live elsewhere. Why wasn't I being patriotic? What was wrong with me?

I had no idea I was being unpatriotic. I don't feel unpatriotic. Far from it. I just don't think loving your country and loving your monarch are the same thing. It's certainly possible to do one and not the other. And to be perfectly clear, not-loving your monarch isn't the same as hating them. An absence of love doesn't imply the presence of any hatred. I don't have any dislike for the Queen at all. I'm not convinced her job should exist or that anyone should have power bestowed on them by accident of birth but that doesn't mean I dislike her. I hardly even know the woman.

The truth is simply that I feel about the Queen exactly the same as I do about any other 86 year old woman I've never met. Y'know... I wish her well. I'd offer her my seat on the tube if I saw her standing. I'd hold a door open for her if I saw her approaching. I'd carry her bags and happily help her cross a road if the need was there... it's just that I'd do these things because she's an 86 year old woman rather than because she's the Queen.

"Would you rather we were a republic or a dictatorship?" asked one twitter correspondent, as if by offering up two such unimaginably awful alternatives I would finally come to see quite how lucky we are. Well the answer is that if push came to shove and it was easily arranged I'd rather be a republic, thanks. But as it's not easy I'll happily go along with the status quo.

But under any system I'd find the idea of everyone celebrating an individual's existence - be it a President, a Dictator or a Monarch - equally odd. I suppose the Republic is the one least likely to demand it of us. (And that's another reason to prefer it)

But for some, patriotism seems to be fundamentally intertwined with royalism. Our troops pledge an oath of allegiance to the Queen, not the nation - and even our National Anthem is about her rather than the country.

National Anthems haven't always existed. They're a 19th Century thing. The Dutch were the first. Theirs seems pretty woeful too. They sing about being of German descent and pledge allegiance to the King of Spain. Little wonder Spain beat them in the World Cup Final.

The Spanish avoid any such awkwardness by having an anthem without lyrics. San Marino do the same.

The UK couldn't keep the tune but drop the lyrics because the tune isn't ours and ours alone. The same tune is used for the American song, My Country 'Tis Of Thee (which Aretha Franklin sang at Obama's inauguration) and for the Lichtenstein National Anthem, Up Above The Young Rhine, as well as for several other songs.

But the anthems I like tend to be about the country. (You'd think that would be a pre-requisite wouldn't you?)

Australians all let us rejoice,

For we are young and free;

We've golden soil and wealth for toil;

Our home is girt by sea;

Our land abounds in nature's gifts

Of beauty rich and rare;

In history's page, let every stage

Advance Australia Fair.

In joyful strains then let us sing,

Advance Australia Fair.

Great Britain is girt by sea. We should definitely take that line. The word girt just isn't used enough these days. Or ever.

Compare and contrast:

God save our gracious Queen,

Long live our noble Queen,

God save The Queen

Send her victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Long to reign over us:

God save The Queen.

O Lord, our God, arise,

Scatter her enemies,

And make them fall.

Confound their politics,

Frustrate their knavish tricks,

On Thee our hopes we fix,

God save us all.

Thy choicest gifts in store,

On her be pleased to pour;

Long may she reign:

May she defend our laws,

And ever give us cause

To sing with heart and voice

God save The Queen!

(Many people like to go on about the anti-Scottish verse... but it was never a part of the official national anthem. It seems several new verses have cropped up from time to time to reflect the politics of the day and some have become popular. But that doesn't mean they were ever a part of the anthem proper)

Me? I really do wish that at least one lyric in amongst all that mentioned the country and said something, y'know, nice. I said as much on twitter and received the predictable response of "well there's not a lot good to say about Britain is there!"

Which of course is nonsense. The country is beautiful. I know - I've cycled most of it. The country is tolerant. It has the NHS. For now. It gave the world Shakespeare and Newton and Darwin and Tim Berners-Lee. Britons invented tin cans, cats eyes, crossword puzzles, the electric motor, steam engines, light bulbs and the periodic table. It gave the world football and cricket. All over the world time is measured relative to Greenwich. We have much to be proud of in Britain. If we weren't so embarrassed by the idea of pride.

But instead of singing about our inventiveness, our tolerance or our mountains and our rivers we sing about our monarch and how we hope God will look after her. Or him. That doesn't seem very patriotic to me. Just as celebrating the Queen's Jubilee didn't. In fact it seems quite the opposite. We could just as easily devote a June bank holiday to celebrating the UK and all get the bunting out and have just as big a party without having to pretend it's about her maj couldn't we? She could join in with it because, presumably, she's patriotic too. It'd be a bit more us-us-us and less me-me-me. Or one-one-one.

I always feel rather sorry for the Queen when the National Anthem is being sung. It always looks like an awkward moment for her standing there as thousands of people sing a song about her. Surely only Simon Cowell could enjoy that. If we are going to have a monarch - and we are - wouldn't it be nice if we had a national anthem he/she could properly sing along with? Rather than the poor soul having to stand there being stared at while everyone sings about them?

Some people have suggested we'd sound a bit cocky if we had a boastful anthem and while I'd prefer it to the forelock tugging one we have now I can see the point. So I'm suggesting a middle ground. A famous tune. A dance that everyone knows. But with new words that celebrate our okayness rather than our greatness.

Woah-oh the okay UK

Knees bend, arms stretch ra-ra-ra.

It can even be adapted to cope with however the campaign for Scottish independence pans out.

You put Scotland in

Scotland out,

You do the okay UK and you shake it all about,

That's what it's all about, oi!

Not that anyone would want to leave the union if that was our anthem. And how could anyone else hate us? We'd be the first nation in the world to have an anthem that everyone else joins in with.

Absolutely June 3rd...

Our show this week was about mixed-messages and was inspired by this letter:

I love the two lines of text:

URGENT

CONTAINS COMMERCIAL MATERIAL

which I'm pretty sure we can all translate as:

URGENT

NOT REALLY URGENT

And you had plenty of similarly confusing mixed-messages to share too.

Of course, the usual features all made an appearance, we had Ward's Weekly Word and Found Poetry and guest presenter, Paul Foot gave us another dose of Paul Foot Explains. If you had any gaps in your knowledge of Summer Sports... well... this probably won't have done much to clear them up. But it made me giggle so that's okay. We also gave what I think was our first dedication away on the show ever. We don't give such things lightly. They must be won. I'm sure we'll return to It's My Birthday And I'll Quiz If I Want To again some time soon.

The songs I brought in from home were:

Pirouette by Stickboy

and Applejack by The Triangles. (Try to ignore the fact that this is a beer ad and just enjoy a nice upbeat summer song)

The podcast, should you be so inclined is here.
See you in Hayes, Dartford, Treorci or Dudley in the next few days, yeah? Not you, obviously... but you... yeah?