Friday, 29 May 2009

Bala weekend

Seem to have been struggling to fit the old blog in of late. So just a few lines today, catching up on one or two recent activities. A couple of weeks ago was at Lake Bala in North Wales for a weekend. Beautiful spot, mixed weather. Took part with a group in a high wires course, run by some rugged outdoor types in a company called 'Get Wet'. Discovered I'm perhaps not quite as terrified of heights as I'd though, skipping from rung to rung like a monkey (and probably looking like one). The whole escapade ended with a rope slide.
Then there was a cycle round the lake, past a picturesque Welsh railway station. And that evening, after some worship, watching Jade do her thing and get poked in the face by the violinist, and a drink or two, a few of us found ourselves in an welsh pub under the quaint delusion that a shot or two of the local brew somehow qualified us to be rock stars. I belted out Daydream Believer followed up by I'm still standing (happily I was), rounding off with Englishman in New York, which the karaoke master insisted I adjust to Englishman in Wales. One or two of us also tried to help some more intoxicated punters make it through a couple of fast moving and by no means straightforward Queen songs, namely Don't stop me now and Killer Queen. They really needed help.

Thursday, 21 May 2009


Another radio piece based on Britain's got talent, which will have Britney Spears Toxic running underneath it...

So, another year, and another run of Britain’s favourite talent contest is drawing to a close. Well that’s a relief; I’m not sure how many more singing dogs and dancing hamsters I can take. Of course, it’s had its moments. A certain feisty Scottish lady’s showed us you don’t have to look like Leona Lewis to carry a tune. And, no surprises, we’ve had a string of new show-stopper put downs from Britain’s favourite talent scout. So what can we take away from it all, besides the memory of a bloke farting his way through a Strauss waltz? Well, I’ve been thinking about those poor deluded souls who wind up on stage doing something they can’t do very well – and getting panned for it. About the words of the judges they listen to. Crikey, if I had to put up with the barbed comments of big Mr C, I think I’d be cowering in a corner. So it’s a good job there’s one voice out there that’s got something a bit more positive to say about me - and about YOU. God says you’re the apple of his eye, and that you’re written on the palm of his hand. Not bad eh? Hmm. Maybe I should think about entering that talent show next year after all…

Thursday, 7 May 2009

Everyone's got talent

Radio script idea based on 'Britain's got talent'.

Simon Cowell:

Hello sweetheart, and what do you do?

Contestant A: I remember people’s birthdays.

SC: Ok, and how long have you been doing this for?

A: Since I was about twelve.

SC: Right, and is it just family birthdays, friends?

A: Everyone’s really, neighbours, pets, lolly pop lady.

SC: Well, it’s certainly unusual. So how did it all start?

A: I gave a birthday card to my teacher once, she was chuffed to bits. That was it, I was hooked.

SC: And do you have any special methods?

A: Not really. Just the colour coded diary. And a fluffy pom pom page marker.

SC: You're certainly taking this seriously. Ok, you’ve got two minutes to remember as many birthdays as you can. Bonus points if you remember mine.

Tag line: In God’s eyes, everyone’s got talent. What’s yours?

SC: (under breath) Just don’t remember the year.