More Wallingford salt

The wonderful Wallingford BunkFest 2014 (www.bunkfest.co.uk) is about to launch.  What a great privilege to be part of it. Another of the superb British events organised and run entirely by dedicated volunteers who love their community enough to create a superb event which is the highlight of the year for many in the town. 

Setting up on the Kinecroft has been a protracted affair with many of the community coming over to welcome me back.  I don’t mind this at all.  It is a great pleasure to hear the year’s stories and catch up with all the news as people make me feel a valued part of their lives.  Sometimes there are sadnesses of course and reflections on the vicissitudes of life.  One of the corner stones of the event here has lost his job thanks to the ridiculous changes to the pension arrangements, enforced by our political masters.  I feel very much for him and his young family.  Of course I didn’t hear it from him.  He is far too British and proud (in a good way) to tell me personally, but instead showed all his usual joy and pleasure in seeing me again and in telling me his positive news that he has managed to master a particularly difficult piano piece.  He accompanies me at the stage for some of the shows and is an accomplished and talented jazz pianist.

And some of the news is heart-warmingly optimistic.  An older member of the community always tells me of the trials and tribulations she has had over the years with her daughter who has had challenges with drugs and mental health issues and who used to be part of the BunkFest organisation.  Her eyes lit up when she told me that the other day her daughter had spent half an hour with her, for the first time in months.  She also told me how Matt, mentioned in my last blog, (he of the electrical supplies shack and the sign ‘A good man is a gentle man’) had gone out of his way to make sure her boiler was working properly over last winter, had provided her with a free electric fire, had picked up the bill for the boiler repair and had even given her some oil for aching joints and a pot of honey!

And Ralph and Helen as always have been more than generous and kind in their welcome of me back to Wallingford.  Ralph arrived on the first day with a delicious present of lunch in plastic containers in a carrier bag – Macaroni cheese followed by a superb and secret recipe apple and blackberry crumble, complete with a carton of custard!  And an hour or so later, as I’d mentioned that I had lit a fire in my woodburner the night before, and had been foraging the trees around for dead wood, I came back from walking the dogs to discover two bags of logs and some ‘morning sticks’ (see my previous blog about the A494).

It is such practical kindness that makes my life as a traveller very easy and joyful.  I think of all the places I visit though it is most obvious here in Wallingford.  It is partly because the event is geographically right in the heart of the community.  The Kinecroft, which is basically the village green, is the location for the event and it is and always has been a big part of town life, dating back to medieval times.  It is crisscrossed by paths and meeting points at their intersections.  A lovely pub (one of many in this famous beer-brewing town) sits at the edge and of course the townfolks’ many dogs are walked and meet each other there.  It is a great social asset and the BunkFest is the climax of the Kinecroft calendar.

This year’s event promises to be another classic.  The stage is set, anxious weather website watchers bring me hourly updates of the improving forecasts for the weekend and of course the many children, with growing excitement in their eyes, remind me that they will be there for the shows on Friday lunchtime when the event starts.

If you are anywhere near, drop everything and come to Wallingford this weekend.  The music, beer and steam promises to be fantastic.  There is music and dancing everywhere, on the streets and in many of the pubs and some of the finest food and the best craft and art stalls. Great charity and gift shops, quirky boutiques in hidden havens and a charming Thames side path to walk off lunch in many a hostelry.

But above all you will be warmly welcomed, as I have been, by some of the nicest and kindest people that Britain can produce.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

The salt of the earth

I meet some great folk on my travels.  The ones who will do anything to help and always give of themselves to make the human experience of those who meet them a memorable and positive experience.

I just need to mention a few of them who recently have gone out of their way to extend to me the real hand of friendship and humanity and whose dedication and commitment to their various events make them the joy that they are for the public of course, but also for those of us who work at them.

Bob is the engineering manager at Haven Street, the Isle of Wight Steam Railway.  As well as what is obviously a highly skilled and challenging role keeping all the ancient engines, coaches, tracks and signals working properly and managing, I imagine with great patience and courtesy, all the volunteers and others who do the actual manual stuff, he also organises the Woodland Stage at the Steam Rally.  The Woodland Stage is a delightful small acoustic theatre in a wood close by.  The calm atmosphere created by the trees around make for a great setting for folk music and I was lucky to catch a wonderful song about the first world war by Karen Tweed and Mark Hickman and some of the set by the Grimshaws in that great environment.

Bob caught me before I left topping up the power steering fluid in the lorry, which requires me to tip the lorry cab forward and fiddle beneath!  He asked if anything was wrong and I explained the particular challenge I have with this part of the engine.  Without hesitation he had one of his men come out and give me advice and suggestions as to the nature of the power steering system on the lorry.  He had worked for Ford for years and knew the Cargo series.  Half an hour later I had the benefit of a lot of knowledge I otherwise would not have.  No immediate solution but a lot of wisdom which is an essential pre-requisite to it!

An afternoon’s drive took me to Wallingford, the pretty little Oxfordshire town on the Thames and the location of a charming and popular annual folk music, steam and beer festival, the Bunkfest (www.bunkfest.co.uk). I set up a basic space for myself and started the generator.  Two minutes later and it died and refused to restart. Technology! And almost brand new too.  I gave up overnight and the following morning mentioned the generator in passing to the Bunkfest electrician.  Five minutes later Ian was there, another of the site electricians, and within a half an hour he had it working again and showed me a few tips to try if the issue happened again.  He refused the tip I offered, saying, ‘It’s all part of the service!’

Later in the morning I searched the town on the mini-motorbike for an electrical suppliers to replace some of the show extension cables which needed renewal.  A charming old world shack in the middle of almost nowhere is where I discovered Flex (www.flexwholesale.co.uk). I was explaining my requirements to the guy on the desk when I heard ‘It’s Mr Alexander’ from the dim recesses of the shack.  The boss, Matt emerged, shook my hand, gave me a hug and offered a cuppa.  He had seen the show over a number of years and was now one of the sponsors of Bunkfest.  He refused any payment and I left with everything I needed with no charge!

I noticed a sign on the wall where in previous years might have been a pinup girl calendar.  It read, simply ‘Stop War. A good man is a gentle man’.  There’s a photo of it below.

All three of these experiences gave me reason to stay firm in my belief that despite the dreadful affairs we listen to on the local and national news, there is some hope for humanity.  Certainly if Bob, Ian and Matt are anything to go by.  My hat is off to all three.  

This story could be repeated many times over in my weekly life, so to those I haven't mentioned by name, my heartfelt admiration and thanks to you all.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Make do and mend

I love that WWII expression.  It sums up our wonderful British resilience and determination to succeed against the prevailing odds.  It goes right against the throwaway and upgrade society in which we find ourselves at the present and it’s a sentiment I wholeheartedly support.  I’ve always been a make do and mend person.  I’m of that ration book, dig for victory generation of course so it is in-built into my value set, but over the years I have come to believe it in my heart as well.

Sitting in the lorry in a great park-up in Southsea, on my way to the Isle of Wight for the 40^th Anniversary Steam Rally.  It’s the car park of the D-Day memorial museum and they are preparing for a very big do nest week to celebrate the start of the Great War.  Marquees and stages all around, a big fairground on the common and it’s obviously all set for a major event at the weekend with Dizzee Rascal, whoever she is, headlining.  (Showing my age now!) I know the carpark well because it’s home for me in December when I’m at the Victorian Christmas event at the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard.  I think it must have had a historic military purpose because there’s a high brick wall around the car park with gun portholes.  I have a good tv signal here and I arrived late last night, determined to relax for a few hours from a five hour journey before the ferry. 

I pulled out the TV – it’s on one of those tilt and swivel brackets.  The tv came off in my hands.  The bracket had broken and was not going to be possible to use it.  I made a mental note that I would try and replace it from one of the shops in Southsea.  Meanwhile no tellie!

In the morning when I took the bracket down to take it to try and replace it I discovered it could probably be repaired and although it would be a little more wobbly than it was designed to be at least it would still work! So I set to, mended it, added a couple of bungee loops for extra security and now I am making do with a slightly wobbly TV. So make do and mend it is!

24 hours later I’m in Haven Street on the Isle of Wight for the 40^th Annual Island Steam Rally and the stage is set up and ready to go.  I am very fond of this event.  Of course I love them all but there’s something special about Haven Street and this Rally. Of course it’s the people. There’s a real warmth and closeness expressed by the people here for Mr Alexander. Setting up takes more than twice as long as I stop and catch up with the many friends I have made here over the years I have been coming.

They’re all make do and mend people at Haven Street.  The dedicated restoration of historic British steam and other vintage engines is make do and mend on a truly epic scale.

Not sure though whether I’ll be here for the event next year.  A while ago the organisers spoke of a three year contract with a strong possibility of a change after that and the three years are up. So maybe it is time for a change. I would be missed I’m sure and I would certainly miss being here. 

I’ve been trying to apply the make do and mend philosophy to this issue and I will certainly talk to the Powers That Be.  Make do and mend would probably say that I should argue strongly, as at Hollowell Steam Rally, to be always here, somewhere on the field.  As I told them this year as the relay truck towed me onto the field just before the event, the only way I wont be at Hollowell is if I’m in a box. And I don’t mean a magic one.

I know there would be many at Haven Street who would support me staying. Many would say the event wouldn’t be the same without Mr Alexander. Probably it would be better! Another part is saying that it is time to move on and for me to take the initiative and declare that he wont be on the bill next year.

I am really torn.  My instinct is saying go, my heart is saying argue for staying.  It’s now the middle of the night before the first day and I feel I have to announce if it’s time to move on in the shows tomorrow and tell people that it is my last year.

Make do and mend or fresh fields and pastures new? I wonder if you can guess what I’ve decided?

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Shrewsbury postscript

There is often one event that changes things and this year it was definitely the Shrewsbury Flower Show.  It’s the sort of change that is barely noticeable at the time but afterwards the world seems a slightly different place. It was partly the dramatic change in the weather that followed almost immediately at the end of the fireworks on the last night of the Show.  I was just finishing my pack down, pausing occasionally to see some of the firework finale.  I have spent some time in an earlier life designing and firing big firework displays and even had a firework shop so I know a little about pyrotechnics.  I now don’t like them very much, mainly because they upset my dogs so much, but at one time I used to love firing those monster 5inch shells, feeling the thud as they burst from the mortar seconds after I had lit the fuse only a foot or so away.  A young man's fancy I fancy!

The rain started almost on the final shell bursts and by morning the remnants of Hurricane Berta (or was it another name?) had inflicted the first taste of autumn on England.  That taste hasn’t gone since and it now feels as though the summer is in the past.  So Shrewsbury was the last of the high summer events and now we are heading for the back end fairs which start after the August Bank Holiday.  Shrewsbury was a great success for Mr Alexander’s show.  Big crowds and some wonderful praise during the event from people who came over and said so, loads of business cards distributed and some great emails since.  The shows did go well, and mainly I think because the Shrewsbury audiences understood theatre, because they have such a wonderful theatre in the town.  I think I will be invited back next year and hopefully it will become an annual one for me.  I did the new juggling routine to The Old Umbrella Man without a drop in both last shows both days, and finished the last show on the second day with my favourite rings routine to Mr Bojangles sung by the wonderful Nina Simone.  It was a special moment among many over the two days and I was left totally exhausted and slightly anti-climactic for at least two days afterwards.

I discovered some new magic too.  A routine with a prop I hadn’t used before but had bought at some time in the past when I was flush.  It promises to be a little gem and I keep returning to it like a child with a new toy.  No not like a child, I am a child with a new toy.

But the other change was unseen.  The fee from Shrewsbury has taken my bank account into the black for the first time this season and I am determined to keep it there from now on.  I lived too much of the winter in the red and occasionally dangerously so, as regular readers of this blog will know.  It was a difficult winter and I don’t want another like it.  I was helped of course by my mystery benefactor’s magnanimity, but I am cautiously optimistic this time as the season changes that I will be able to stumble through to next spring without the knock of poverty.  I am still on the wagon and feeling proud of it now.  Lost loads of weight as a result and the new trimmer Mr Alexander is fitter in every sense!

On to Hinckley, another of Britain’s dying town centres, and the town management’s attempts to halt the decline with an attraction.  Me! The trouble is that it hasn’t been advertised, at least according to two passers-by as I was setting up in the attractive market place yesterday.  So how are the people going to know I’m on if there are no fliers or posters?  I think it will be one of those where the audience will consist of three old ladies, a street cleaner and the town centre manager.

Ah well, it can’t be Shrewsbury Flower Show every day.  Oh and someone told me that how you pronounce 'Shrewsbury' depends on where you come from.  Another battle of the Litle Endians vs the Big Endians?

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

My young fans

I received a lovely email and will copy it here.  It was from Kirsty, whose fabulous wedding to Lawrence I was lucky to attend and entertain a couple of years ago.

Kirsty wrote about her daughter Evelyn who I think is nearly three. "Evelyn just said to me: "I want to see Alandar" I was stumped. "Amanda?", I asked, thinking it might be a child from school. "No!" was the response. "Alandar" she repeated. "Alandar?", I asked. "No" was the response again. Evelyn tried a different tack: "I want to see 'one alligator, two alligator'. The penny drops! "Mr Alexander!" I exclaim. "Yes!" says Evelyn. "Can we take our coats?’ “ I love the final comment about the coats.  I’ve no idea what it meant but I love the wonderful innocence in the non sequitur.  For those who don’t know the alligator reference comes from one of my routines which had obviously been particularly memorable for Evelyn. And of course I love working with children, even though in my shows, as they run, I tend to perform to the adults in my audiences and assume the children will also follow on too.  It’s a psychological thing.  I am not only a children’s entertainer.  I play to the child in everyone, including the children, and this is the difference I think.  I try to entertain the children and amuse the adults.  Or is it the other way around? Many adults tell me they love the expressions on the children’s faces as they watch and of course, once in a while, I stop my show’s frantic gallivanting to notice it too.  I try to look at myself through those wide eyes and their burgeoning view of the world.  I worry what will happen when the children who receive the million pound note I sometimes give as a prize present it at the checkout with a trolleyfull of toys. I grieve over the early loss of innocence brought about by our connected lives and I worry about the planet we are leaving for them.  But for that half hour I know that I seem to be able to weave a spell that suspends time along with the harsh realities of our lives and creates a world that echoes the innocence and wonder with which children view everything. It’s that world I try to draw the adults into as I perform, and it seems I am progressing in that life endeavour.  Practice makes progress. It certainly had a lot of practice at Shrewsbury, the first syllable to be pronounced I was firmly told, as the small rodent and not to rhyme with ‘show’.  The Shrewsbury Flower Show was lovely.  The stunning Dingle garden in the park where the show takes place is an award-winning masterpiece, timed to look its very best for the Flower show.  The marquee displays are worth the huge entrance price I guess, but £26 for an adult is by far the largest entrance fee at any show I attend.  Maybe I’m just moving up in the world.  At least the children come in free which means there are many of them for me to play to and for.  As a bit of a gardener myself, I gazed in awe and wonder at the displays of vegetables and fruit, the cut flower creations and the immaculate bonsai. Much like the awe and wonder with which the children, my young fans, along with many of the older ones, gaze at my show.  So it’s all good. All the best from a road near you, Mr Alexander PS Sorry about the strange formatting in this chapter.  I've tried various ways to solve it without joy and have given up trying!