British Variety Tour 2009

BRITISH VARIETY TOUR 2009
On Friday we went to see the British Variety Tour at The Opera House. The line-up is made up of acts that were on our television screens back in the 70’s, and who many (not me) presumed had either retired or died.
The compere was Tom O’Connor, who I had only ever seen as hosting TV game shows back in the day – “Name That Tune” etc. It turns out he’s a wonderfully warm comic in his own right and he knitted the show together beautifully. First up was one of my heroes, the truly full on, bees in the underpants, stark staring, barking mad Norman Collier. He shambled on stage, said nothing, glared at the audience and announced “You’re probably wondering why I sent for you all this evening”. Sadly, it seems the old boy is slowing down a little these days and he struggles with the more physical stuff. “That’s half a chicken” he says whilst doing a much toned down version of a pop eyed clucking, ruffled hair, jacket off the back of the shoulders strutting hen that I remember from way back, but he still reduced me to tears (last year I was severely reprimanded by the couple sat behind me for laughing too much!), with his Al Jolson morphing into Pingu the penguin, and then into one of those nodding ornate penguin things that used to dip its beak into a bowl of water on your mantel piece or windowsill. – A living legend.
Next up was Roger De Coursey, whose sidekick “Nookie” bear was only employed for the last 5 minutes of the act. He is not the most skilled ventriloquist you’ll ever see, and maybe he should grow his tashe down to his lower lip or something I don’t know. Some of his jokes were good, but he seemed to be looking forward to the end of his spot a little bit too much for my liking - he glanced at his watch about a dozen times, - as did some of the audience. “Bucks Fizz” closed the first half, but with only one of the original members (the bloke that nobody remembers), and 3 substantially younger counterparts, he looked a bit ridiculous prancing around doing twee little dance routines in a white suit and sensible shoes. They sang well enough but the “Meatloaf” tribute was a step too far for me.
For the start of the second half enter Faith Brown and her amazing performing breasts. Faith has long been associated with not being short in the “Top Bollocks” department, and by jingo they were certainly on form this night. They were trussed up like a frozen chicken and presented in front of her face so that only her eyebrows were visible. She’s actually a top turn, great presence, singing voice, impressions, bubbly persona, it’s all there, but like the two young lads sat in front of me I found it difficult to concentrate on what she was actually saying.
I first saw “Cannon and Ball” live when they were at the peak of their powers in Great Yarmouth in the early eighties, the theatre was packed and they blew everybody away. In all those years since, I haven’t noticed a decline in their performance, not even slightly; all the drive, enthusiasm and sheer A1 star quality still shines out at you and transports you back in a thrice to great old days of comedy double acts. This is a lost art, and to watch them draw an audience into their surreal little world and then render them powerless to resist them is a joy indeed. The two young lads in front of me and a girl of about ten behind me were reduced to hysterics every time Bobby Ball so much as raised an eyebrow, - aarh! – this’ll be family entertainment then.
We left the theatre feeling considerably happier than when we went in, and that’s all you can ask really.

At A Bit Of A Loose End.

Back blogging on here again after my exploits on the charity walk down the east coast. It was a game of 2 halves as they say. The first bit at the end of June was bloody hot, I lost about a stone and the gorilla gloves melted, the second half was spent muddied up to the eyeballs in soggy fields listening to the sound of raindrops amplified to cannon fire by the roof of the tent. I did Berwick-Upon-Tweed to Whitby (mainly in the gorilla suit) in 11 days, then had to miss out the bit between Whitby and Brid as I had to do battle with the passport office at Liverpool (doing it next year). It took me 9 days to walk from Brid to Mablethorpe but only a mile and a half (in Cleethorpes) was actually on the coast, which is a bit of a blow when you're doing a coastal walk, the rest of the time I found myself hopping up and down off the grass verges of winding B roads which was a pain in the arse quite honestly. I had planned to make it to Great Yarmouth by the end of August but I've run over budget somewhat so that's it for this year.

I came back to Blackpool last weekend for the "Cumberland Ex-Servicemen's Club" annual reunion which was a hoot and unbelievably well attended, a bit TOO well attended if anything and there's talk of giving Reginald Dixon (anybody under 50 - google him) the day off and booking the Tower Ballroom next year.

So now, I'm staying here until I return to Benidorm in September in the girlfriends tiny bedsit, -where ever you are in the room you can reach the sink - and we're both suffering with cabin fever.