Off We Go Again.

Well, after a 4 month lay off it was my first show back tonight at "Sinatras". It´s always a bit of a trial until I get back into the swing of it, but tonight had added pressure what with my back problems restricting me to a "Quasimodo" type lurch right up until a week ago, the pressure was on. There was a fairly healthy crowd in there, and a fair few familiar faces, "Sinatras" is a bit like a Club back home, with the same people coming back year on year - I like that.

I´m came through well enough without going over arse over apex as soon as I had reason to bend down as I´d envisioned, and I was reasonably well satisfied by the end.

Afterwards, when I´d got changed, this middle aged woman came up to me and asked if she could have a word. - Arh, I thought, maybe a few kind words welcoming me back, a pat on the back for a job half well done, or at worst a bit of constructive criticism. But no. (Bear in mind that this woman had just been sat in the audience during my 45 minute spot), she said "Has anybody handed a Hearing Aid in do you know?" - she thought I was the barman - or I think she did.

Oh I´ve missed all this.

Sporting Dis-honour and Back Pain.

What´s happening to sport these days? What with racing drivers deliberately crashing cars, rugby players buying blood capsules from joke shops and tucking them in their socks, and footballers diving as soon as they glimpse the penalty area? Oh yes and that “woman” athlete from South Africa who won the 800 metres at the world championships sporting a pair of bollocks that would have frightened Katie price. It´s all gone tits up – last example excluded.

On the bad back front, I bumped into my old mate “Dozzer” the window cleaner from Sheffield yesterday who told of similar woes and said he had to see a chiropractor in Alfaz Del Pi to fix his and it cost him 600 euros. (my initial enthusiasm waned). “But is it right now though” I inquired.“It´ll never be right” he replied with a wan smile. He continued. “Mind yer, me missus got run over a few month back, and now when she sneezes she just falls in a heap”. This rather put my problem into perspective and I left it at that. I´ve since gone along the self treatment route and have been performing a series of “Cat” stretches on the rug in the front room which have definitely made a difference . - Give me another couple of week and I reckon I´ll be able to sit on the fence whilst licking me genitals.
See - www.theconcertchairman.blogspot.com

Blackpool And Its Troublesome Pensioners.

Well, it’s pissing down here in Benidorm so I’d better hurry up and finish this before my electric goes off. The weather was glorious when I left from Yeadon airport on Saturday (That’s Leeds/Bradford to you), and it’s been a little, er... changeable since I got back. Enjoyed my time in Blackpool doing knack all. I’ve got a soft spot for the old place alright and it’s nice to see that they’re spending a fair old wad in an effort to drag it up from its wellington boots in an effort to propel it kicking and screaming into the 21st Century. However I can’t really condone its zero tolerance policy towards law abiding middle aged men. I’ve been left scratching my head at instances such as my uncle Eddie (who’s 65) being refused service in “Churchills” pub for having the temerity to enjoy himself, us lot being chucked out of “Flares” for “dancing too vociferously” (try doing that to “Bucks Fizz”), and me being followed to the promenade before being ludicrously accused of stealing a “Daily Mail” from W.H. Smiths by a security man and his vacant looking sidekick the store detective. That was hilarious and worthy of a blog all of its own.

The worrying thing is that I’ve picked up this back injury, not as you might think as a result of tottering down the east coast with a rucksack the same size as myself perched at my rear, or from scurrying about on all fours in my snug sized tent (there was only one bit in the middle where I could actually sit up). Oh no, that was no trouble, even the old knees didn’t come up like Kenny Ball’s cheeks and were as good as gold. No, the back went doing, er.... precisely nothing! Can’t for the life of me remember doing anything particularly over zealous, say, lifting a particularly heavy looking pint pot, or fending off one of the Blackpool Loons on giro day, but it hurts like hell anyway. It looks like being a long wait before I can resume my evening show – I’ve got a dozen quick changes in that, - but I can’t even put me socks on at the moment! So looks like I’ve got a few more mornings of abseiling down the side of the bed on a sheet first thing in the morning and biting the pillow as I stagger to my feet like somebody who has just been shot.

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.

Hello again!

As I am travelling down the east coast on me charity walk, I am using a netbook with limited battery life so to save time I'll be blogging only on www.thecampinggorilla.blogspot.com until the end of August.
Byeeee.

Wish Me Luck As You Wave Me Goodbye

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The Camping Gorilla
Saturday, 20 June 2009


Well, I've been back in England now a few days gathering together me trekking gear - and me thoughts, and it's been pretty damn fraught. My nerves have been shredded, partly because I'm walking around stone deaf cos nobody seems to have the time to stick a syringe full of luke warm water down me lug hole, and my attempts to renew the old passport have proved futile in the extreme. Added to this my sudden realization of the scale of the thing, and of the fact that lump on me back is a rucksack and not Doctor Who's tardis, and you have panic on your hands. Have been busy trying to cram everything in there, from bare essentials such as tent, sleeping bag, gorilla costume, sleeping mat, to all the extras like maps, torch, compass, towell, stove, clothes, toiletries etc etc etc. It's been a nightmare let me tell you, and hopefully I CAN tell you if I can get me Netbook (small laptop) to function in the next day or 2. If not, my posts will be limited to the odd time I come across a cyber caff - wish me luck as you wave me goodbye!