Old friends

The first tour of the year is now underway and it was great to be back at the Hertfordshire County Show, if only to meet up again with my colleague performer Professor Crump.  Paul wouldn’t mind if I said we were both of a similar generation, although actually I think he is considerably younger than me.  What I mean is that we have similar attitudes and views of the world we work in; the British Outdoor Entertainment Industry.  His view is certainly higher than mine as he performs on stilts with a wonderful array of handmade props; amongst other, a tall bicycle, a huge padded horse on wheels and two rollalong dogs on a stick.  His ascerbic witty comments as the Professor are much loved by parents as he engages children with his height and accompanying large persona.

He told me he had been talking to one family about the entertainers at the Hertfordshire Show. The man had said that he thought they very good, but seemed disappointed that all of them were rather old. I guess I must have been included in that observation.  I don’t think there’s anything much that can be said about that, but it seems to reflect our society’s attitude to older people.  I think though it’s a more of an interesting observation about our business.  There seem to be much fewer younger people in this business than there were at one time.  Perhaps the natural performers are being called to the more televisual, cinematic and celebrity-culture professions.  Perhaps the young don’t see it as a viable profession. Maybe soon discovering a Punch and Judy man, a stilt walking Professor or a Travelling Show at the local gala will be a thing of the past.  My DVD title is perhaps hiding a deeper truth.

Over the years Paul and I have met at various annual events and usually spend half an hour or so at the beginning or end of a day swapping thoughts and observations on the bizarre branch of Britain we inhabit.  Over the last year he has shared with me an idea he has to write an illustrated history of stilt walking.  It hasn’t been done and he is the person to write it.  I think it should be very successful and he has just found a publisher after a year of writing letters and receiving polite refusals.  As part of the deal he has to buy a number of them and sell them personally.  We shared experiences of selling things at the side of shows, a long tradition in our business.

Paul told me he had recently heard of an old guy who lived locally who had written a book about the History of British Railways and could often be seen at the large railway stations selling his book.  Paul had decided to seek him out to see what experiences of personal bookselling he might have to offer.  He was also quite curious about the character who had something of a reputation for the urgency with which he buttonholed passers-by.

He called at the guy’s house only to discover that he had been recently taken into a hospice, also locally.  He called round to visit the man, now declining with dementia.  And there on his bedside table was a pile of his railway books.  He had obviously brought them in with him, determined to carry on selling to the very end.

Perhaps Paul and I will have beds beside each other in the Old Entertainers’ Hospice.  He with a pile of stilt walking history books, me with a pile of DVDs, the British Outdoor Entertainment business as much a part of history as British Railways.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

Mr Alexander lite

Thank you to those who have sent messages of kindness over the last few days.  It means a lot to hear you’re out there and giving me the occasional thought. It’s been a funny time.  Funny Peculiar of course.  Not without the occasional Funny Haha, but mostly Peculiar. 

To pick up more or less where I left off, I had failed (sorry was unsuccessful at) the C1+E driving test which would have allowed me to be legal above 8.25 tons train weight. I have been driving around for at least ten years above this weight, but I only realised as a result of the Weight Prohibition story that there was a weight limitation on what is, slightly patronisingly, called the Granny license for those of us still alive who passed their test before 1833.  Knowing that I was taking the lorry and trailer out illegally started to make me paranoid and I started imagining a VOSA conspiracy.  I know that just because I’m paranoid does not mean they’re not out to get me, but I had some very odd dreams and a few even odder waking moments.  It didn’t help that the guy at Llay during the weight prohibition fiasco told me he’d seen a man in a VOSA van slowing down and looking into the yard where I stayed for a couple of weeks.  Who knows even if that was true, but it didn’t help.

So, in my head, I had to deal with the possibility that the next phase of performing work, right through June and early July would mean me dodging the Man from VOSA or alternatively finding some other way through the maze.  Lots of possibilities emerged and I explored all of them, from finding a driver to drive my rig while I followed in the car with the dogs, to stripping every possible thing from the lorry and trailer to try to bring them below 8.25 tons.

It was this latter option that I have pursued over the last few days.  There was a large lump of gubbins, part of the old wheelchair lift that was bolted to the chassis under the floor of the workshop/store so I started with that.  It took all day and lots of shoving, banging, swearing and cutting but it gave steel gave way to iron will and the thing came out.  It was reassuringly heavy, I was unable to lift it single-handed so it was an excellent start. 

I then took everything that was not entirely essential for the show from the trailer.  The awning has gone into storage, several cases which I only use from time to time, including the prizes case and my close-up magic case.  The onstage speakers which I can manage without I think but which are quite heavy and the newly renovated but scarcely ridden giraffe unicycle.  Lots of odd bits of timber I like to have around in case and two fire extinguishers (never used). I furtled underneath the trailer and took off the old trailer mover which hasn’t worked since I had the new axles fitted so that was quite a chunky lump gone. 

For now I also removed the generator and the trolley jack, the mini motorbike, my socket set, tools and spares carried just in case. All my books have gone and just about anything that I only use occasionally. I even emptied the water tank.

So it was with some trepidation therefore I took the rig to the weighbridge this morning, and even more as I waited for the weight certificate. To my absolute amazement and considerable relief the lorry came in at 5820Kg and the trailer at 2260, making a chinese auspicious 8080Kg and a whole 170Kg below the maximum legal weight.

Now all I have to do is to work out what I really cannot do without from the rejected pile and add my own weight.  My feeling is to keep the generator (55Kg ) and the trolley jack (28Kg) and crash diet for four days so I get down to the remaining 13 stone and 10 pounds (87Kg).  Mr Alexander lite. Cue Land of Hope and Glory as the season begins.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

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