Failure is on the road to success

When I taught circus to young disaffected people during my years as a teacher I used juggling as a means of teaching some key life skills.  Developing a good attitude to failure was and is a really important key life skill.  Learning to accept that you are bound to drop a great deal before you can start to keep the beanbags in the air is a great way to develop a positive attitude to failure in the bigger things of life. It is a shame that I am still very bad at learning my own lessons.  Perhaps you can guess what is coming.  I made three small but important mistakes during my driving test today and am now reeling with the ignominy of failure. And other painful things happened today. 

Just before the test on the way to the station a pigeon committed suicide on the windscreen of the vehicle I was sitting the test in.  If you have ever killed something on the road, you will understand something of what this did to me.  It was definitely an omen.  Not that I believe in them.  Not really.  But it certainly unnerved me.  I had no idea it was about to happen.  It came from the side and even if I had seen it coming I couldn’t have done anything about it.  I was under the speed limit at the time. For ages one of the poor victim’s feathers was stuck in the windscreen wiper.  I had decided if it was still there by the time I reached the test station I would remove and keep it as a memento.  A memento mori.  But the feather blew off after about five minutes, only leaving me with the memory.

That was not an auspicious start.  I managed to calm myself for the first part of the test - the difficult part with the reversing a trailer into a bay and the uncoupling (easy-ish) and the coupling (hard without a reversing camera).  I felt that I had done well up to then.  I then took the rig onto the road and it went well until very early on I slowed behind a cyclist on a double white line up a hill.  Instead of passing him when convenient by crossing the double white lines, for some stupid reason I stuck behind him all the way up the hill.  Wrong.  From that point on despite focusing on the road I had that first fault going round in my head and made two others.  I took the wrong lane round a roundabout and on another occasion I didn’t cancel my indicators.

So that’s that.  The next available test is July and until then I have to be think about the train weight of my lorry and trailer.  It's not supposed to be more than 8.25 tons. I think the new lorry weight is now 6.25 tons so that allows me no more than 2 tons on the trailer until I have passed the test.  Something has to come off it or I have to do what I have been doing unwittingly for the last 10 years and chance it.  What would you do?  What I shall do is to think about it for the next few days.  I’m not working again until the end of next week.

The previous few days have not been good either.  In fact I have to say I’ve had a really difficult time behind the scenes recently what with one thing and another and I’m feeling very low as a result.  Not that I’m complaining about my lot.  I am very healthy, love my work, gain real satisfaction from it but for a while now I’ve had the feeling I’ve gone up a cul de sac with my lorry and trailer and there’s no turning round.

I’ve made some cracking mistakes, some of which I’m not going into and I shall have to accept the consequences.  As you do. And as I will.

And while all that’s going on, I shall take a break from writing this blog, but I shall write again when I feel the time is right and in the meantime, nevertheless, all the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Mainly Malvern

I love driving back tired and hungry in the lorry after a great gig.  Malvern was a great gig. The trip back to my yard had to be made because I had a driving course to do the day after so there was no alternative.  Usually I prefer to sleep a final night on the show site with everything packed and ready to go off early but I had to drive straight off so I was particularly tired and particularly hungry coming back to Chester up the M5 and M6, my two well known work companions asleep on the bench beside me.

I haven’t done the Malvern Spring Garden Festival for a few years and the previous was a one-off booking.   How lovely then to find it was still a really sweet show.  There is something about a well-organised show that stands out from the start, without being too in your face or dictatorial the Show is well laid out, superbly run and maintained and there are some fabulous exhibits, stalls and demonstrations.  The setting is to die for.

At one point in the set up I have to climb up onto the trailer stage roof (as those of you who have seen Rhys Edwards’ film will know) and I always take a moment to take stock of my new surroundings from that commanding viewpoint.  On Saturday, the glorious vista of the Malvern Hills with the sun setting over them on set up day was breathtaking.  The photo is below.  I am going to make it a new tradition of the blog to take the photo at every gig. Britain at its very best with all the gardens and planting of the show radiant in the warmth of the spring evening sunshine.

It was disappointing that the following day was rather cold with a cruel wind.  However we are British, are we not, and my audience and I braved it out and I believe they were not disappointed.  I certainly wasn’t.  The early hesitancy at Llandudno had dispelled and the shows had a crispness and clarity which I thoroughly enjoyed.  I discovered a new routine with the pompoms prop to the evocatively period version of These Foolish Things by Lew Stone.  I will grow to love that routine as much as I love the music for it.

So all these thoughts meandered through my mind as I drove north through Sunday night. I was also curious about the driving course I had elected to do.  I needed to make myself fully legal as I had only recently realised, as a result of the weight fiasco, that my ‘grandpa’ license only allowed me a train weight of 8.25 tons, and I needed a test to take that up to 11.5 tons.

So Monday morning found me still aching and tired (I had a particularly bad attack of cramp in the night which often happens at the beginning of the season until my body accustoms to the rigours I put it through). The course was surprisingly engaging.  I discovered a few things my original 1968 driving test examiner would have failed me on are now totally expected and several bad habits I’d fallen into. I’m looking forward to the rest of it. 

All the best from a road near you, 

Mr Alexander

A big catchup

It’s been ages since I last wrote.  Of course I’ve been very busy but also there has been only really excellent news to report and somehow it feels as though this makes a boring and repetitive blog, so I will try to make the good news at least readable.  You could always skip this episode and run forward to the up and coming one that I may have to write later today.  SOMETHING has happened.  It may blow over and all may yet be well but watch this space.  I will tell you about it either way in the next chapter.

Meanwhile all the good news.  The launch event of the DVD at Wallingford’s charming and wonderful Corn Exchange Theatre was an unbounded success. The theatre was full and the reception at Wallingford was warm and welcoming, as it always is.  My good friend Ralph, having superbly managed all the publicity then ran the evening’s considerable technical challenges from his perch at the back of the auditorium with aplomb, accuracy and acumen. I am very grateful to him and to all the volunteer staff at the theatre for all they did to make the evening such a success.  Maff and the band were brilliant as they have always been, providing me with original accompaniment to a number of routines.  The new pieces of magic I had prepared for the night on the whole went to plan. We sold quite a few DVDs and CDs so financially we were able to say it was worth doing.  The edited version of the film that Rhys and I cut for the night met with universal acclaim, and the introduction section which showed me unicycling at the Great Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House, the Golden Gate bridge and then down Wallingford High Street into the Corn Exchange Theatre was a great way to start the evening. So with such a great filmic start and finish, the night was a sure fire success. 

It took me a while to recover but I had to do so pretty quickly as I only had a week to prepare for the Llandudno Victorian Extravaganza.  There was still a lot of painting and varnishing to finish so I had very little spare time in the week leading up to the Bank Holiday. Finally I finished the list and loaded it all into the trailer and down the road about 25 miles to Llandudno.

I have always loved this event, though for the last couple of years my pitch has felt a little isolated from the rest of the event.  No sign (again) of the George Formby Appreciation Society, so I suppose they will never again be on the grass at Bog Island (named from the location of the toilets) in Mostyn Street.  They are missed. My specific pitch is pleasant enough, but without another live act to alternate with, it feels rather lonely. 

The first day, the Saturday, it poured with rain all day, as I think it did across the whole country.  I tried to do a bit inside the dry part of the stage, but by lunchtime I gave up and watched the World Championship snooker (which was gripping).

On Sunday the sun emerged, despite being rather cold, so I did shows and on Monday it had become a little warmer making the final day a Llandudno classic.  Lots of people, excellent feedback and a healthy hat. It needed to be I was down to the final penny and twopenny money bags from last year and an overdraft was looming.

I also only saw one member of the committee all weekend, which didn’t bode well and when I went on the Monday to collect the cheque, there was no cheque and no treasurer.   This is always a danger sign.  I don’t like waiting for the cheque and my terms are always payment on the day.  (You wouldn’t buy a bottle of milk and expect to pay next week, so why is it that certain trades have to wait to be paid?) Anyway I spoke to a man in the booth who promised direct payment by the end of the week and he was a man of his word.  I have been paid so all is well.  My feeling though is that I may be somewhere else next year.  There is a cycle in these events and I’ve reached the end of a cycle there and possibly in other places this year.  We will see.   Watch this space.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Back to nearly normal

I am happy to announce that the lorry is once again fully road legal and I am back in my own yard after my VOSA-enforced holiday in Llay.  I decided at the end of last week, with the rain lashing and the oily mud surrounding us, that I couldn’t wait any longer for VOSA’s machinery to spit out the new plate so I phoned them up and pleaded.  I can be very deferential when I am so minded. I had the name of the contact there who had been friendly so asking for him helped.  After a little computer delving to discover they had received my form for the new plate he agreed that if I brought the email I had stating the plate could be uprated I could make an appointment at Ewloe to have the Weight Prohibition lifted, along with my spirits.

Leaving the Commercial Vehicle Yard was a liberating moment.  Not that I had been totally unhappy there.  There’s always something to learn and the history of the locality was fascinating.  But all in all it was great to pull off the yard and rejoin the real world.  There was, however, one more ironic hiccup, if a hiccup can be ironic, in the VOSA saga.

I arrived at the yard in plenty of time for my appointment. When the Inspector arrived (happily not the man who had given me the prohibition who was off that week) she went to open the little room that was the control room for the weighbridge only to find that the lock had been vandalised.  Someone had pushed a small piece of metal into the lock so the door could not be opened.

‘The kids around here can be terrible’, said the Inspector.  I thought, but did not say that it wasn’t kids but someone with a grudge against VOSA to stop them using their weighbridge.  However the little piece of metal could not be removed, the door could not be opened, the lorry could not be weighed and the Weight Prohibition could not be lifted.  The thought of spending Easter in the VOSA Check Point arose in my fertile imagination.  But she let me go, as I suspect the original man could also have done, and promised to phone me when it was fixed so I could have it weighed.  Two days later I phoned them, found the lock had been fixed, made the appointment, drove to Ewloe, had the lorry weighed and found that all was well, the weight was well below the new plated weight and I was free to go.  It weighed in at 2600Kg, 50Kg below the original plated weight and now with the new uprated plate at 2900Kg, allowing me 300 Kg to put back some of the stuff into the front that I had taken out when it all happened.

It’s been a nightmare but some good has come of it.  The lorry is lighter and I've gained new belly box cable cupboard.  The porch, once I have finished the new steps will be sleek and nice, and I have learned that Llay Deep mine was the deepest pit in Britain and was always a happy place.

On the same day as this, Rhys, the filmmaker, phoned to say he had finished the final dubbing and was sending the drive with the full length film and all the sequences for the DVD off by guaranteed next day delivery to the place in Newport for it to be copied and compiled.  The following day was the final deadline if everything was to be back in time for the launch day in Wallingford at the end of the month.

The following morning I received a text from Rhys – ‘Disaster.  The drive has been lost in the post.’  Now I have used the Post Office’s Guaranteed Next Day Delivery service thousands of times in my life for important stuff and this has never happened before.  It was made even worse because there had been a last minute rush to finish the film because of some compatibility issues and Rhys had not saved the finished files on his computer before burning them to the hard drive.

The upshot of it all is that the Newport guy said as long as he had it on Tuesday (all this happened over the Easter weekend of course), he could still deliver.  Rhys set to and redid the compilation, found another drive to burn it all to and we met on the A55 for me to drive the drive down to Newport personally.  Neither of us could trust another courier. A four-hour trip on Saturday down the lovely deserted A483 through the Marches down to South Wales listening to the radio was lovely with the spring sun setting.  I came back via the motorway, a much less interesting route, but with the benefit of speed. Arrived back in the yard at 1.00 am.

So all being well I should take delivery of a big box of DVDs before the end of the month.  I know you will like the result.  The film is wonderful and there are some other features of the whole package I am very happy with.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Awaiting the plate

The VOSA saga continued all week.  A number of people have sent me possible acronymic alternatives to its long name – The Vehicle Operator and Services Agency.  Some of them are worth mentioning, others are rather rude but all are extremely funny and pertinent.  I liked ‘Very Obedient Servant Always’ and ‘Voluntary Association of Sales Assistants’.  There were a number of Voluntary Associations but most of them were not mentionable before the watershed. As I am trying to keep the real VOSA onside at the moment I’d better not mention any of them. 

My ménage and I are still marooned in a sea of oily mud as the welsh rain lashes the commercial vehicle repair yard in Llay, near Wrexham.  I hope for not much longer, although, like most places on the planet, it has some saving graces which I will mention later.  But those of you desperate to know my lovely lorry’s fate will be pleased to hear that I have now had the wheelchair lift removed which reduced the front axle weight to 2500Kg.  At the same time I found a nice man at VOSA (I am sure not the only one) who has agreed to raise the plate weight on the front axle to 2900Kg, so between the two actions I now have freed up almost half a ton to put my stuff back in the front porch and still be legal.  The only downside has been that I am still waiting for the new plate to arrive.  The lorry has to be taken to the Ewloe Check Point to have the Weight Restriction removed so I will be very relieved to be, once again, fully road legal.  For the curious amongst you, I guess at some point in the past it was a real metal plate with hand engraved numbers that had to be fixed to a lorry in an accessible place.  These days, and probably not for much longer, it is a paper one with a bit of Government issue sticky-backed plastic to prevent anyone changing the numbers.  No doubt in the queue of vehicular paperwork soon to be sacrificed to the great god Pixel. One of the Trinity of Digit, Perfect Pixel and Holy Zero/One. (Sorry, no offense intended)

If I don’t have the new plate when I go to the yard it gives the other VOSA man in my life a wonderful opportunity to make that great vocal idiosyncrasy of the Man of Power, the sharp intake of breath, or the SIB as it is known to those of us who recognise them.  Last time we met at the roadside on my way back from Caernarfon two weeks ago, he made an SIB of factor 8 as he contemplated how impossible he had to make my life.  Well he has, and I don’t want to increase his SIB factor again without the plate firmly and accessibly affixed.

So the doggies and I are imprisoned by the government in this yard in Llay whilst we await the interminable but inevitable pendulum of bureaucracy to churn out the plate which will set us free.  There are though, as I said above, some saving graces. 

The junction of Davy Lane and Miners Road, Llay is, as the names suggest, replete with the aura of history.  The mine at Llay was, at its height, or maybe one should say its depth, the deepest mine in Britain. All the fascinating information about the mine is on http://www.welshcoalmines.co.uk/North/LlayMain.htm

and I had a great conversation with its author, Vic Tyler-Jones, who told me there is a mine museum at the Miners’ Institute, an impressive building just up the road.  I intend to go and visit it as should anyone else passing through the area.  The barman Peter will open it up for you apparently.

Llay Main had the reputation of being a ‘happy pit’.  No ponies were ever used there and the welfare of the miners themselves, over 3000 at its peak, was considered very important.  If you have five minutes, check out the website.  It tells a lovely and fascinating story.

I also had a happy stay here but hopefully soon I shall be moving on, another story to discover, another road to travel.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander