iPod Fun.

Had an interesting few days back home. Due to the adverse weather, every plane and train I boarded was delayed, but not enough to spoil the trip and anyway, I think it´s all rather festive. Only problem was that I was just about the only one to actually make it to Blackpool for our mini reunion, so I was glad that Pauline and Sid from Leeds made it and acted as my surrogate parents for the weekend. Visited a few good friendly clubs, - hat´s off to “The Comrades Club”, “The Duple”, “North Shore Sports and Social Club” and of course “The Royal British Legion”.


Just bought a brand new i-Pod due to the fact that the last one I purchased from up the Benidorm Old Town was possibly one of the worst pieces of electrical equipment I ever came across. The only way you could change the track was to push the volume button (the volume couldn´t be altered once you´d turned it on), the music was really loud but the vocal sounded like the lead singer was wailing from a bathroom three doors away through a tin can, and once you´d charged the battery it had the life expectancy of the equivalent of a midge with emphysema. And then it packed up altogether after 3 weeks.

This was a cheap model though, so I upgraded to the standard “Apple Shuffle”. The only thing with the Apple is that you have to upload the songs through “i Tunes” which I haven´t used for years. Think it´s fair to say that I haven´t quite got the hang of it. The thing is that when I downloaded “i-Tunes” it automatically looked for music already on my computer and it managed to dig up from the very basement vault of my PC some sound effects, some of which I have used at work from time to time. Somehow it mixed these along with the songs that I wanted to place on the i-Pod, - I was totally unaware of this until I got to the gym this morning. The resulting mish-mash was that of high comedy and I struggled like hell not to laugh out loud. I don´t know if it was because it was so unexpected, or the sheer inappropriateness of the sounds compared to my archaic song choice, although this wasn´t always the case, - indeed I didn´t at first cotton on to what was happening and some bird “dawn chorus” sounds and applause effects didn´t sound at all out of place, and the gunfight after The Who´s “My Generation” was an inspired choice. The “Clown Car” effect (which is a series of squeaks, wobbly wheel noises and high pitched horn sounds) just before The Clash´s "London Calling" was a corker, as was the rasping fart after “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by The Police. Another thing was, I didn´t happen after every song, maybe every third or fourth one which kept me on my toes, and after a while even the most non comical sounds had me spluttering behind the back of my hand. The tapping of a hammer before “You´re an Embarrassment” by Madness, and the industrial vacuum cleaner pre empting “Going Underground” by The Jam for example.
 As I neared the end of my workout I plonked myself on a seated cycling machine just as a loud foghorn acted as the intro to Bonnie Tyler´s Lost in France. As I put in a final spurt as the finish line homed into view, the sound of a thundering steam train matched exactly the rhythm the piston action of my lower limbs and as I disengaged myself from the machine and stretched out to my full height a coiled spring sounded right on cue and made me guffaw as I swigged back several mouthfuls of water from my bottle. I´ve never had so much fun in a gym before. Indeed, when I think about the timings of these comic and totally accidental interjections – and let´s face it, re reading it, it sounds like some binned script from some dodgy sitcom from the 70´s, I wouldn´t be surprised if one of my dear departed mates from way back when, hadn´t been sat upstairs with the main man looking down on me today – and taking the piss!

November Fiestas

So that´s another November Fiesta done and dusted then. I quite enjoy them these days actually, now that I don´t do any cabaret shows that particular week, and I get dressed up the same as everybody else on “Fancy Dress Thursday”. It took me a couple of days to pluck up courage to buy me tights for Max Wall, but once I was in em I seemed to warm to the task – immediately forcing out the rump and assuming the pose of a startled battery hen with haemorrhoids.


This particular day was invented by the Brits and is not part of the official Spanish Fiesta at all, but I´ve noticed the Spanish pub owners are embracing it more and more these days. It´s probably the biggest boozy day of the year in fact, even out doing Christmas and New Year´s Eve for shear drunken debauchery. Would like to thank Maggie and her crew from Durham, “The Rat Catcher” and his lot and a fair few others for turning out at the Cumberland and making it a good day – even if half of our usual mob came a week early and missed it – check the bloody calendar next year!

Got another party to tackle on Sunday, it´s our last day before we close for our midwinter break (opening again the week before Christmas). We´re heading over to Blackpool for a couple of days on the pretext of organising our summer reunion for August, but in reality it´s just another excuse to meet up with some old amigos, - “Juke Box Johnny”, “Jimmy Knee caps”, “Kranky Keith” etc. etc. for a session in the British Legion of which we are most fond.

Pauline and Sid

The season´s they´re a changing, not only have I noticed that I can actually get to sleep underneath the duvet now and again but the local mossies are taking on a lethargic air these days. Last week one of the little bounders was gently gnawing away at my ankle bone, but had to stop after a couple of minutes for a fag and a sandwich before resuming on its merry way.

Pauline and Sid went home today. These two have been in the bar in the same two seats every afternoon and every night for a month, helping out glass collecting in busy times and acting as stooge to the Concert Chairman at others. - They also bring him the newspaper daily and a bag of sweets. Add to this that I don´t think they´ve ever missed one of my night time shows (where their party piece is to propel ping pong balls at my Cliff Richard caricature) and they are two of the most likeable, good natured and loveable couple you´re ever likely to meet, - we will surely miss their presence. I also like the fact that Sid refuses to wear his hearing aid. We were having a little impromptu quiz yesterday and the question was "What was Cambodia previously known as" - Sid thought for a second and then shouted "Malaria!" Still can´t quite work out what he thought the question was. I remember years ago when I was moving apartments and mentioned that in my new place the kitchen drawer was bare, sure enough next day I was presented with a brand new set of cutlery - typical. Sid´s an absolute star and Pauline has what was described by my ex girlfriend when first meeting her as having "a kind face".

There are others too, there´s a bloke called Jim who a couple of times a year brings me the "Northern Life" magazine and then disappears never to be seen again, another one brings me pigeon magazines (and badges), and packets of paracetamol-. Last week, another member - "Popeye" (ex sea fisherman) brought me in a homemade fish pie (which was superb), and there´s keith and Marion who bring me in giant bags of fruit and shower gel. Others bring in books, framed photographs and I´ve had models of the chairman made from the tin foil left over from someone´s kebab and one bloke from Bradford famously sent an oil painting of the chairman which always brought the house down when we brought it out, and it raised 45 quid when we did the auction for "Help for Heroes" at our Blackpool reunion by the way

Yes, it´s a special place to work is the old "Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club", some wonderful people, laughs a plenty, and long may it continue.

"Ho-De-Bloody-Ho!"

News comes to me of me Uncle Eddie and Auntie Doreen who rolled back the years and went off to for a break at Pontin´s in Southport for old times sake. (We all went together there on holiday about 40 years ago). By the sound of things it hasn´t changed much since then, - not even the curtain material. Stories of  scabby wardrobes with one coathanger - and a spare for emergencies, and of an over zealous smoke alarm - Eddie had to waft it with a newspaper just so they could boil 2 eggs, had me chortling away and judging by his ensuing texts messages things didn´t improve over much.
"Just got ere, talk about bloody "He-Di-Hi". Place is tiny, can´t get electric on and wife doesn´t like it - hasn´t unpacked". Then later on that night. "Ballroom full of kids, - didn´t they used to march the little buggers out at 9pm? - we´re off to pub across the road.
Two hours later. - "Back in Ballroom, still full of kids, some arshole jumping about in a monkey suit - we´re off to bed". And then finally next day. "I´ve had enough, it´s pissing down and all they´ve got on is bloody Morris Dancing! - for about 5 hours. Off to club, not theirs - OURS.  We´re off home."
Weekend break eh? - aye, it certainly broke him alright.

New Season

Came back to Benidorm last week to find the flat without hot water and me telly blaring out to nobody in particular. The bloody thing had been on 2 months! Haven´t got the electric bill yet, though I have got one from “Telefonica” even though I haven´t had a phone line for the best part of 5 months.


September is a traditionally busy time in Benidorm and it´s been buzzing. Went to see the “Grumbleweeds” doing their last show at the UK Cabaret bar on Sunday, the place was packed and they were terrific. Long live “The Godfathers Of Comedy”.

Weather´s still a bit warm for me though, still haven´t managed to sleep underneath the duvet yet and the gym has been a nightmare. Think the air conditioning sucks instead of blows and sweat was dripping off the end of me nose as I was showing my membership card to that stroppy cow on reception. One dodgy moment in there today when I saw one elderly gent gingerly walking along in the adjoining swimming pool holding aloft a knotted plastic bag at arms length. Thought he must have discovered something rather unsavoury in the shallow end. (The old brown trout? The only fish that floats?), but it turned out to be his camera!! He then spent the next few minutes taking shots of his blubbery missus, - though thankfully the water came up to her shoulders revealing only her bloated red face and flowery swimming cap.

Show Us What Yer Made Of - But Don't Tread In It.

The bad news is that some local dog or other left us a little pile on our pathway today, - the good news is that a Jehova's Witness trod in it! Presumably on his way to deliver his sermon to our good selves. We didn't actually answer the door to him, but maybe we should have, as it proves to me there actually is a God after all.
Overheard conversation in the gym the other day. - "So, Mary, how's Trevor, is he not coming in today?".
"No, he's had to take the car into the garage.It broke down yesterday just outside Layton and he phoned me in a panic. He says "I've just broken down, - phoned the AA and they've refused to come out!". I said, "Well, they would do, we're in the RAC aren't we? - I mean how can you forget that?!" - I had to agree.

Although it's rained nearly every day since I've been here in Blackpool, I'm still loving it, especially the "Cumberland Bar Reunion" a couple of weekends ago. Oh how lovely to see Charlie No-Nuts, Tommy Sunfly, Big Babs, Dozey Dave from the day centre, Mad Mozzer the mad midget from Runcorn and all the rest of the loons.

Thou Talks Through Thine Arse

Went to the east coast this week and during this time I went to see "Midsummer Night's Dream" in Scarborough, - it was either that or The Chuckle Brothers. This was my first flirtation with a Shakespeare play, (though I have heard of him) and far from being bored to death, or distracted by the all modern Bear Pit like auditorium or flummoxed by the flowery language and costumes, - It just plain baffled the socks off of me!
The plot seemed a little complex and somewhat bizarre to say the least, and was a sort of, Doctor Who, Monty Python, with bits of the "Star Challenge" on the end of Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer's  Shooting Stars hybrid.
With all the "Thee's" "Tha's"  and "Don't bugger about's", it's obvious that Shakespeare was a Yorkshire man and it was only when it was spoken in a Yorkie accent that I could make head or tail of it. It was lucky then that the chap who played "Bottom" was indeed a Yorkshire man and his striking resemblance to a bloke called Frank who was a fellow Postman with me back in the early 90's was the sole reason that kept me riveted until well into the 2nd half.
It's a wonder then how a good proportion of the audience for whom English wasn't their first language managed to get their head round it (I distinctly heard Scandinavian, German, Japanese and at least one Geordie voice in there during the interval), but they all stayed to the end, laughed in all the right places and generally seemed to enjoy the experience.
Overall, I'm glad I went, if only to marvel at how the hell the actors manage to learn such vast chunks of script that doesn't actually make any sense at all, their skill at voice projection and annunciation and attention to detail - Puck was depicted as having a shocking case of Malaria for the whole play for some reason. Summing up then, I can honestly say it was an enlightening experience - but it'll be The Chuckle Brothers next time thank you.