North South divide

We have booked to go to London in June to meet FDIL’s family. Looking forward to some interesting sights and tastes in our glorious capital.  YS has already reserved a table at Dalston’s White Rabbit. Dalston is the new Hackney I understand. Although it seems, if the image below is a clue then  “The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on..” :

This picture was stolen from a fascinating page  commenting on young London hipsters. Follow the link to be guaranteed some laughs:

Types of Hipster you encounter in London

I expect you could find some similar people in our own Northern Quarter but perhaps not in Harpurhey. What you might find in Harpurhey is something similar to this reaction to the influx of the trendy ones sprayed on a hoarding outside Dalston Station.

Note to Nephew: nervous about becoming thirty? It’s OK,  now you don’t have to even try!

March winds did blow in a late hibernation

In a month when I turned semi-pro in the online world, receiving a modest fee for a presentation to a local arts group about blogging, I then spent the following  month  writing nothing. Reasons and excuses are legion and although  I had many ideas and started to put together some interesting thoughts about various topics, I committed none to the screen.

This lack of effort continued into April. I felt like I was back in the Lower Sixth of North Manchester Grammar School in 1970 with the History master asking about the non-appearance of my A level essay on “The unification of Italy”: “Just polishing it off Sir !” was the most frequently used delaying tactic.

I am not sure whether I can hear cries of relief or sighs of disappointment at this point. As Lewis Carroll’s poem from Alice through the Looking glass says:

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

In my case, the following many things or potential blog posts were started but not finished:

I wanted to write about Marple Arts Group, an interesting local society that meets monthly throughout the darker months to entertain the members and their guests with a  variety of lectures, presentations and events all with an Arts theme. The members are all
older people but with sharp minds eager for stimulation and interaction. This group, almost an anachronism, was founded in the austere Forties but should be cherished. I fear  they may need to find some younger members to keep going.

Tesco embarked on a series of adverts to say how sorry they were about ruining our lives by selling us horsemeat, destroying our dairy farms and how they were go to do things differently from now on. These adverts were simple blocks of text in plain English but typographically broken up to look like Shakespearean sonnets or stanzas of a romantic poem. I started but did not finish a lampoon based on a Keats Ode:

Much have I pushed a trolley down aisles so cold
And many horse meat lasagnes and chicken kievs seen
Round many super markets have I been
Which bards in fealty to Tesco hold.

I could have written a review of a meal at The Inn at Whitewell in the Forest of Bowland but didn’t. As YS is to marry this year in August, we will be seeing a lot of this place over the coming months. Fantastic food, a unique ambience and location. I started restaurant reviews of Romiley’s Platform One and The Italian, a  full review of Libbys, Marple Bridge is long overdue and the lunch  we enjoyed at Jamie’s Italian, in Manchester at Christmas remains in draft.

The Budget came and went echoing a change in our personal circumstances leading to some overdue frugality. Welcome to austerity Mellor! With a little focus it is surprising how economies can be made. Say goodbye to Sky and hello to Humax, maximise the freebies on the bank account and stop double paying for the AA and annual travel insurance.

We finally consigned our Bramhall house to the past,  this year set new records as the coldest spring since 1962 and everywhere was brown. Snow still blocked roads in Derbyshire in April.

Margaret Thatcher died which produced great swathes of media coverage which accurately caught the mood . There can be few people, at least those who were actually adults during the Thatcher years,  who did not find themselves spending time reflecting on the effect those years had on all our lives. In death opinion polarised as strongly as it did in life.

I was fascinated by the Channel 4 series on Harpurhey, People like Us, set in the area of North Manchester that I grew up in. It began by causing outrage as the locals and the politicians reacted strongly to the apparent negative stereotype. But as the series progressed each episode changed my thinking. There were things to admire about some of the people of this blighted place who showed a lot of courage in difficult surroundings.

In football, I missed the chance to comment on United’s stroll to a twentieth title, the German demolition of the Spanish glamour teams In the Champions League and the unusual diet of Uruguyans.

Perhaps some or all of these will find their way on to the blog in the future. But for now, I need to overhaul the header iamge with something more springlike.

Almost as Famous as the Posh Potato

I had read many things about Almost Famous online (where else? The web and social media is their only publicity) and I was Almost Prejudiced against it. Why? Because of  several enjoyable visits to the other, apparently rival,  burger restaurant not 100 yards away. I Almost Wanted to dislike it, but a friend of mine said that the burgers were probably the best in Manchester so last Wednesday we climbed the stairs of a run down northern quarter warehouse . As it was lunchtime, there were no bouncers and no queues (either of which would have driven us immediately away). There were still no signs to this meat speakeasy as we passed through a nondescript wooden door with a sign saying simply ‘No Photographs’.

Inside , at 12.30, it was relatively busy and we were shown through a bar area into one of two connected dining rooms furnished with junk store cast-offs, some tatty sofas and enlivened by various ‘objets trouve’ that young NQ hipsters seem to find so amusant. There was a strange piece of somewhat self indulgent graffiti on the wall in the form of an enormous risk assessment form which I suppose some would find witty. But it did nothing for me; what was it too with the strange Charlie Sheen quotes?

This predilection for quoting from films made me think of a line from Carlito’s Way. The eponymous hero played by Al Pacino observes,when confronted with a more youthful culture than the one he remembers, “Times have changed. What happened to the miniskirts? Where’s all that marijuana? Now everything is platforms, cocaine, and dances I don’t dance. What a man gotta come to when he loses five years.”

We found a table with help from a young lass who doubled as a greeter and waitress and advised us to place our order at the bar. We chose our burgers and fries, elected to drink coke and duly delivered our choices to the helpful chap at the bar.

I went for the DD Burger, described as an ‘all natural juicy meat heavy shirt popper’, and the Trailer Trash fries. The OH settled on the Famous Burger, the entry level offer with cheese , lettuce, tomato, pickles and famous sauce accompanied by Winning fries, the basic ones. I had to seek out the knives and forks in another rooms and fetched back a roll of kitchen towel and two bottles of sauce: one Suicide (presumably chilli) and one Redneck which was barbecue.

image courtesy of bacon on the beech

The food was delivered and could only be described as excellent. The juicy beef patties are from a local butcher and came in a brioche bun. Mine was dripping with thick onions, cheese sauce and chipotle ketchup and was a hearty meal. OH was busy making serious inroads into her burger which was described as good it it gets, and she should know, as she was serving up burgers in the Northern Quarter before these kids were born. ( You need to be of a certain vintage to remember the Posh Potato on Back Piccadilly which sold Chilli Burgers in 1977! )  As for the fries, substantial portions with tasty, interesting sauces,and the odd but nice renegade sweet potato one thrown in to the mix. The only criticism would be that the fries were very heavily salted.

We liked: the food, the reasonable prices, the sauces, the free jukebox with music we recognised and the quirkiness of the place, We were less than enthusiastic about drinking from jars ( albeit with a straw) the plastic baskets and the annoying little flimsy napkin which disintegrated as soon as the ‘dirtiest, gooeyestburger with its animal onions and slut sauce’ came into contact with it. What was onion and what was paper? But hey ho, we are enjoying our seventh decade, these young ‘uns probably think this is cutting edge.

Would we go back? Most definitely but probably always at lunchtime. The wider choice and preferable ambience of the Other Place on Turner street would get our vote in the evening. But well done to the owners for the bravery in opening somewhere like this on an obviously limited budget and providing us with such excellent food.

Urbanspoon still confusing City Centre Manchester with forgotten tumbleweed towns in south Lancashire !

Lord knows I’m Les Miserables now

Why did I do this? Perhaps I needed to know why the rest of the world seems to love this so. I have always been something of an outsider and considered it to be a facet of my personality, for instance, I never found Morecambe and Wise funny. Many things that lots of others enjoyed just pass me by.

So when the OH suggested we go to see Les Miserables, the film version, I agreed partly as a reward for her agreeing to see The Hobbit as well as a  bribe or quid pro quo for the imminent Django Unchained (which does not star Meryl Streep and has violence) partly also to satify my curiosity.

We should have known better. I had bought her a DVD of the twentieth anniversary performance and we only managed about half an hour. We had avoided reviews of the film which were of the Marmite variety, people either loved or hated it.

The opening scene was impressive and promised much but then it became clear that all the dialogue was to be sung, even the most mundane of exchanges. ( Duh , it is a musical; yes but so was West Side Story)

I would be less than honest if I said that I didn’t like it in parts, I enjoyed the performances of Russell Crowe, the corrupt Thenardiers played by Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter as well as Hugh Jackman playing the hero Jean Valjean, the OH admired Anne Hathaway and Samantha Barks (Eponine) for their vocal performances and ability. But the downsides for me were the lyrics, almost reaching  Moon in June levels of doggerel , some of the casting, especially Eddie Redmayne and the girl who played the older Cosette, Cassette or Courgette (whatever). I really could not engage with them and, it was during their parts, that I was most aware of the seat becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

The most incongruous piece of casting, however, was the street urchin, Gavroche, well played but why so overtly cockney? It was if one of the cast of Oliver had sneaked in from a neighbouring sound-stage: “Dodjah, I wants you to pick that Russell Crowe’s pockit and bwing it back to your old friend Fagin

Overall, I can see why so many people love Les Miserables and go over and over again. But for me it is overly sentimental and mawkish.

But two days later, the ear worms have arrived. I can’t get some of the songs out of my head…Look down, Look down ( to the bottom of our stairs)….At the end of the day (it gets dark)……I dreamed a dream (I am having some toast)…. and so on . I am lost, it’s got me too.

What is the cure ? Where is my Black Lace CD………Agadoo, do do do push pineapple , shake the tree…….

Lemme tell ya them guys ain’t dumb..

It is 8 a.m. and I am about my morning tasks when the phone, a landline with the customary 0161 prefix,  rings:

“Mr Stockton?”

“Yes”

“Chimpsons remoovahls”

“Sorry?”

“Shrimpsums remoovaals”

“I am sorry , can you say that again? I am not sure what you are saying.”

200 miles to the south, in darkest Dalston, North London, a large man in his 40′s, probably with a shaved head and an earring, covers his mobile with a substantial hand and expresses his exasperation to his mate:

“Fakhin norvern monkeys, tryna mug me off I reckon…”

Removes hand , “Shim-shuns we-moov-als!”

The situation crystallises, I ask:

“Are you in a van in Dalston, London?”

He replies in a sort of Dick Van Dyke, Mary Poppins style :”Yuueeah”

“Do you have a sofa and a bed for delivery to a flat in Collins Tower?”

Reverting now to a character from Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels:  ” Yuuwwah”

“Then it’s my son you want, he lives in London. Give me your mobile number and I will ring you back with his mobile number.”

“Oh thats awrite mate, I ‘av two other numbers ‘ere. I jus fowt I’d ring this one fust. Fanks”

Our paths diverge, never hopefully to cross again in this world or the next. Back in Dalston:

“I still reckun he was trying to ‘av me for a mug. 0161, ‘ow was I sposed to know?  I fowt it was somewhere norf but maybe Walfamstow or ‘Itchin, Fukhin Toby!”

The week passes alphabetically..

A – Algeria Welcome to the 7th century from your one-eyed,  fundamentalist tour guide! The geography of North Africa will soon be as familiar to us as Afghanistan and Iraq and just as bloodstained.

B – Blockbuster Video  Are you still here? Apparently not anymore. How they survived that long…

C – Chelsea Disgraceful behaviour by Hazard. Perhaps if he got stuck in with the same courage on the pitch? Equally disgraceful are all the apologists for his assault.

D – Durango Unchained Released this week , looking forward to seeing this Quentin Tarantino film.

E – Euro Ambassadors Thats the best job! In an unnecessary and parallel foreign office for the EU, a marvellous sinecure with shedloads of perks for dozens of underserving and undeserving eurocrats. Caroline Ashton, ex policy advisor for Gordon Brown, heads up the European External Action Service EEAS ( or Easy life for short ) rewarded by a pittance of a £320K salary. Not enough, in my view, for someone who has never been elected by anyone and cannot speak any languages at all.

F – Florence Third full day done. There is a reason why it’s best to have kids in your twenties.

G – Gordon Strachan is appointed the new Scotland manager. We can look foward to some memorable quotes if not results from the wee master of the cigar smoking celebration

H – HMV Called in the administrators,  the third one this week to blame  t’internet for its demise. and another store that I must confess to spending very little time or money  in over the last 5 years.

I – Inn at Whitewell as good as ever for lunch after a wedding scouting trip. It will look even better in August.

J  – Jessops Victims of being a free showroom for online buyers. The last camera I bought was  from a Jessops outlet because I wanted it there and then  and didn’t mind paying a small premium. People forget that service costs money.

K – Kagawa  Shinji, the jury’s out for me. Some very nice touches like beautiful pieces of calligraphy but is he too lightweight from the Premier League?

L  -The Lottery Camelot doubling the price of a lottery ticket and their management bonuses in the same week. An addiction not only for the poor but also the government with the revenues it brings in. Does that mean double the prize money and the amounts for good causes? Answers on a postcard….

M – Meat from horses in burgers, reminds me of the fly in the soup joke. I personally would rather eat some of Shergar than Mechanically Recovered Meat slurry.

N – Nugget A 12 lb gold one found near Ballarat, Australia by a guy with a metal detector. On our visit to to this town near Melbourne all we found was a poorly run tourist office and a rather disappointing cafe.

O – Obama Officially installed for a second go of being stymied by congress on health, guns, etc

P – Pochettino  The Argentine ex-manager of Espanyol where his win rate of less than 40% was enough to secure his new post as Southampton manager replacing the luckless Nigel Adkins who could only boast a 54% win rate, back to back promotions and a recent draw with the European Champions. Obviously he deserved to go. Note to Southampton chairman, watch the film Moneyball and remember, it helps if your managers can speak English.

Q – The quick and the dead  This week’s funeral was a poignant reminder of this odd phrase.

R – Rory McIlroy  140 million dollars from Nike. Just how much margin do they make on those galoshes made in Bangladesh?

S  – Snow They said it was coming, the usual apocalypse warnings on the news reports. It’s like it’s ’63 again. No it isn’t!

T – Tax  Self assessment done ( cue Gordon Ramsay voice) and submitted a week earlier than normal. Please remember me in the New Years Honours list, I have probably paid more than Google and Amazon combined.

U – Utopia  Channel  4 TV drama featuring saturated colours, a strange soundtrack, a cast of weird people in a dystopian world and  unnecessary violence. It is quite unique but perhaps not for everyone. I don’t care, other people like Deal or No Deal or plays by Stephen Poliakoff. Another positive is that AA Gill hates it.

V – Vouchers See above from HMV. How to seal the fate of an already doomed enterprise; announce that you will not honour vouchers. Store vouchers have only one winner. They actually budget for a certain percentage not being redeemed. Boycott vouchers from anywhere, pay cash. You pays your money for our vouchereses and we keeps it, my precious.

W – Wolf Hall  A prize winning book by Hilary Mantel. Worthy of all the fuss, quite the best novel I have read in years

X  – X-Rated bonus paid to Goldman Sachs boss

Y – Yawn  Lance on Oprah ( The mind boggles), will he admit to cheating?

Z – Zut Alors!  ‘e was a cheat after all or to quote Wiggo : “A lying bastard!”

The funeral of Phil McCartney

took place at 1pm on the 22nd January 2013 at St Thomas’s Church Mellor. It was a cold day with the ground covered with snow but brightened by sunshine. As expected, there was an exceptional attendance with various estimates of around 500 people who had come to pay their respects. The church itself was completely full, yet more braved the cold outside in the churchyard  and perhaps another 150 to 200 crowded into the parish centre to hear the service relayed through speakers with a slideshow backdrop of photos of Phil, his family and friends. The regard with which he was held in the community was illustrated by the turnout from Mellor and beyond.

The sheer number of people brought to mind the following poem :

Late Fragment
by Raymond Carver

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

The service was very touching with a eulogy from a friend, Paddy Whitham and emotional tributes from Phil’s son, Dan and sister-in-law, Donna Heselton. There were two simple hymns : Jerusalem and Amazing Grace followed by  some very thoughtful and appropriate words from St Thomas’s new vicar, Alex Sanders.

The service ended with some music from Bruce Hornsby:

The show goes on, and the sad-eyed sisters go walking on
Everyone watching all along
The show goes on, as the autumn’s coming
And the summer’s all gone
Still without you, the show goes on

The congregation was then  invited to return to The Royal Oak to continue to celebrate Phil’s life. Visitors to the pub over the next two weeks are encouraged to share any memories of Phil in writing and add to a box on the bar. These will be brought together in a book about him.