Santa’s Magical Farm

There are times when I wonder what I am doing in this business.  Perhaps it happens to everyone.  A seminal moment - you look around, shake your head and say, 'What on earth am I doing here?’

I am in a small petting zoo just outside Hawarden in Flintshire.  It is deep and dark December and bitterly cold. I have just set up the show in a corner of a marquee which I am sharing with a vintage fire engine.  It is slightly surreal.  There is no-one here except a very occasional toddler in a push chair on their way to Santa’s grotto.  I have a friend who is down to do a circus workshop in the marquee next door.  We take it in turns to return to the caravan to warm up. But at least we do have a place to warm up.  There are a number of stallholders who are behind trestle table in other marquees with no heating and no-one to sell to.  They have probably paid to be here on the promise of the footfall of thousands.  So really there’s nothing to complain about.  The time will pass.  I will be paid.  We have a caravan to warm up in and a kettle for tea.

Well the above is now firmly in the pre-Christmas past and a dull memory to be filed in the folder 'Gigs I’d rather not remember’.  And that folder is thankfully not very full.  Most of my gigs are wonderful, and some are spectacular.  There’s a welsh word which means more than glorious – ‘bendigedig’ - just saying it makes you feel good, especially if you smile at the same time. So I always have a few bendigedig gigs, though as adjectives follow nouns in welsh it ought to be gigs bendigedig.  Anyway enough of that.

I drove down to Burgundy for Christmas via the Eurotunnel to spend a week with my sister who now lives in isolated splendour in Southeastern France. I ate and drank far more than anyone should and whiled away the hours with twelve others, including four children, the sons and daughters of my sister’s children.  I think that makes me a great uncle, though I can’t be sure.  It was a good opportunity to practise some closeup magic. It was fun.  The drive was epic and I scared the bejesus out of one french driver as, after six and a half hours driving I felt good as I was nearly there and came out of a little village onto the left hand side of the road and cursed the driver coming towards me on the wrong side of the road.  I did realise just in time and swerved back to the right, but not before he made a very Burgundian gesture at me.  Poor man.

And the new website is about to be launched.  I did it myself on Squarespace and quite enjoyed the process.  The front page photo was taken at Widnes in October and makes the set and the lorry look splendid in the late September sunshine.

And we are now in the down time.  For me this year and almost ever for the first time I’m not feeling too down.  Partly because I’ve cleared up a few debts this year and therefore have fewer financial worries.  Partly as summer 2019 is already looking very full and with some new shows, including a long boat trip down to the sunny Guernsey in August for their West Show.  A slow boat but I love boat trips and an overnight cabin on the way back.  I’m really looking forward to that.

And Martin Orbidans is making a very welcome return this summer.  He will be with me from June to August and will be accompanying all the shows.  He has made a compete recovery from everything he was suffering from and we are planning some new routines integrating him even more fully into the shows.

All in all, it is looking good. So after the pre-Christmas tale above of ‘What am I doing here?’ it is now clear.  In my seventieth year I shall continue to present shows at all my favourite events and any new ones who would care to book me.  And continue to develop new ideas and routines for them.  And I look forward very much to seeing you all again later in the year.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

D Day again

Another visit to Southsea in November and one of my favourite visiting spaces, the D Day Museum car park on Clarence Esplanade, with the wind and rain lashing the lorry.  Just a literal stone’s throw from the Solent but feeling like a boat rocking on it.  The occasional roar of the Isle of Wight hovercraft passing in the long dark. I find it comforting though I guess many might not like the physical fragility of this travelling life.  I love it.  It reminds me of the impermanence of everything.  I like keeping the rain out as it tries insistently to dribble in to the living space. And stuffing socks into gaps where the wind whistles through.  And my life-saving, god-sent woodburner churning out the dry warmth and cracking and tinging as it does the magic, dries the towels and cheers the soul.

Other magic too.  I don’t even need to leave the cocooned warmth of my life pod to trudge across the weather-whipped carpark to shove pound coins in to the machine.  One click on the app, three numbers of the CVC and it’s found me, charged my card and saved the receipt for tax reckoning day.  And all for only an extra 20p a shot.

Talking of tax reckoning day, I’ve just spent the most tedious days of my year doing mine for 2017/18.  The only joy involved is the memory of the events passed, the props purchased or the teeth fixed. (I am in that wonderful profession where I can set dentistry and haircuts as a legitimate expense – you wouldn’t like a toothless hairy Mr A, now would you?) I don’t think I’ve ever had the accounts away from my desk in November before.  It’s so often been a mad dash to the post on Christmas Eve.  Pity the poor accountant coming in after the break to that mail bag.  But then, they did decide to become accountants…

And tomorrow a radio interview.  Not just ANY radio, but the BBC World Service, the programme Outlook and the broadcast day, Christmas Day.  Another step in my plan for international fame, and all arising from Rhys Edwards’ fabulous film on National Geographic. If you’ve not seen it check it out here –

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/video/shorts/a-look-at-the-whimsical-life-of-a-traveling-showman/

The World Service reporter AND a photographer (it comes to fame when you have a photographer too) are coming down to Portsmouth tomorrow for the recording in my lorry alongside Nelson’s Victory at the Historic Dockyard.  All my Great British goosebumps will be jostling…

Arriving at the Historic Dockyard but, this year, no worming my way through to the pleasant but hidden Second Sea Lord’s residence where previously I have been sited. No, this year, THE gate is opened and here I am nudged up alongside the majestic Victory with all its history, the awe and wonder of that classic bark. 

It must rank among the best locations.  No, it really is THE best.

And a good interview.  Listen on Christmas Day.  Just before AND just after The Queen.  Hey twice in one day, or so the lovely Mariana, producer of the World Service told me.  A young lady of considerable talent for her meagre years.  Expert at handling the recorder and at encouraging me to talk.  I can’t wait to hear the result. Another chapter in the white book.

All the best from a historic battleship near you,

Mr Alexander

Plus ça change…

It has been a year of many changes.  As I look towards 2019 and my seventieth year on the planet it is a really good time to reflect on change and to accept that there are some things that I can no longer do easily in the way I have been used to, and others that I should be doing to make sure I can continue working in the profession I love.

The first one of those is a decision to come down permanently from the knife-juggling chair balance routine.  Those who experienced my fall on the second day at Shrewsbury Flower Show this year were amazed I could carry on with the show.  I was amazed myself, but I suppose I just leapt into full adrenaline-fuelled mode and there was only a short way to go before the end anyway.  Someone sent me a video but I still haven’t dared watch it. The hat was the fullest I have ever had, so thank you.  I have mused on that hat for a while… perhaps I should fall over more often?

So if I’m not climbing up chairs what am I doing?  It hasn’t been difficult to decide.  I have so many routines buried in the repertoire, many of which are only half finished, so I have been developing those.  I’ve also tried to be closer to the audiences, by which I mean to be more accessible during the show, maybe that means being more human.  Making eye contact, stopping to notice particular reactions, talking to people.  I’m also planning another height adventure, but this time without the danger.  Something I’ve been toying with for a while.  And that’s enough from Tantalus.

The first season without Mimi and Blue alongside me.  This has been hard in many ways and if I didn’t know it was right for them it would be much harder, but little Mimi has had a lot of health challenges after the Rushden accident and its after-effects.  It turns out she has a heart murmur, an enlarged liver and other issues so all in all she is much better off on the sofa with Blue and Hilary, having lovely hand-cooked dinners and sitting in her dog pram (yes, really) while Blue trots alongside for half the walk in the park. She then gets out and walks back for the exercise and because her dinner is waiting at home.  When I’m there I love pushing her in the pram.  She looks like a Queen, which she is, surveying her kingdom and receiving all manner of comments (most of them kind) and laughter from other walkers on route.  But I do miss them in the lorry and in the show. I still do see them a lot when I am in Chester and staying with Hilary. They will join the long list of famous personalities who have once trod the boards with Mr Alexander.

As will The Old Time Rags, who after a lovely short season of shows with me on the stage have decided to develop their own stage, built on to the back of their live-in van.  They have been fantastic companions this summer and we have all learned from each other, which is how it should be.  I wish them great luck as they develop their careers together in this strange business.  Another change in that I am welcoming other performers to join me on the stage, after years of going it alone.  My role will to become the Master of Ceremonies, the Barker, the Stepright (‘Step right this way, ladies and gentlemen’).  And of course the stage putter upperer. Which has been made a lot easier now with the addition of four hydraulic jacks, remotely controlled, which lift the stage trailer up to the required height and automatically level it.  Expensive kit, yes, but only on the day I bought it.  And ever since I’ve loved the ease, especially at the end of the day when I just press a button on the remote and we’re ready for the road.

Another bit of good change news is that Martin Orbidans, Mr Alexander’s Accompanist, the Queeen’s Pianist, will be making a comeback in 2019.  He is currently living abroad and will continue to commute by air at the beginning and end of the season.  He is coming over in mid-May and will stay until September, working every show with me.  I have found him a lovely little vintage Carlight caravan to live in which will sit behind my car, allowing us a vehicle on site sometimes to escape from the showground.  It’s very exciting and I am beginning to think up a range of routines which will be all the better for live music.

So all change, all good and all the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander