…of the year!
Edward Pola and George Wyle
Yes – it’s that time of year again…
…to friends, acquaintances and gentle readers…
from the Kickass Canada Girl and the Imperceptible Immigrant.
Have a wonderful Christmas and a splendid Hogmany!
Flotsam and Jetsam
All dressed up…
A necessary adjunct to my last posting:
Oh Christmas Tree
Where do Christmas Trees come from?
Well – in our case from the Saanichton Christmas Tree Farm!
As you can see they don’t just do Christmas Trees – but that is a big part of their annual turnover.
We chose our Christmas Tree some three or four weeks ago. Here it is growing happily in a rather boggy paddock – with our tag on it.
The farm lends the eager customer a saw and the latter sets forth for the far reaches of the estate to try to locate the chosen tree. There he or she appropriates a lumberjack stereotype for a brief period, being careful to cut the tree at least a foot (two branches) above ground level so that it can regrow for future plaid-clad wannabees. Unlike our days back in Buckinghamshire, when I used to collect our Christmas Tree in Pearl (our classic Mercedes convertible – with the top down!) here in BC it is unceremoniously lashed on top of the Lexus. Not terribly dignified, but ’tis but a short run home!
…and here is it in our drawing room waiting to be ‘dressed’.
A song for someone
Whilst on the theme of music…
Around this time last year I just happened upon a BBC transmission (which I know was also shown in other parts of the world on different networks) which featured U2 accompanied by a full orchestra and choir performing a mixture of old and new tracks at Abbey Road studios in London.
Now – I am a long-time U2 fan, though my enthusiasm for them has varied from all-out ecstasy (Joshua Tree et al) to solid respect and admiration (throughout more recent years). They have written some of my favourite ever songs – those to which I return again and again. I am a massive fan of The Edge as a guitarist and of Bono both for his wonderful voice and for his passion.
I have also – as you might expect – a great deal of time and respect for my fellow countrymen (and women!) but if there is one trait that I deplore – and which seems to me to have become more pronounced throughout the sceptered isles in recent decades – it is that eagerness to express dislike – contempt – loathing even – for those who have somehow had the nerve to become successful. The level of vitriol directed at sporting heroes such as Andy Murray and Lewis Hamilton seems to me beyond all reasonable measure. U2 – and especially Bono – have been marked men from the point at which they were first dubbed “The biggest band in the world”.
Now – it would seem to be in Bono’s nature to make himself – however inadvertently – a target for such abuse. Yes – he wears his heart on his sleeve and is not afraid to say and write things that others may feel to be pretentious. Yes – his worthy activism might seem at odds with some of his more commercial decisions and anyone who has made a great deal of money is almost bound to upset those who feel that the taxman might not be getting his fair whack… but, please – respect where respect is due. Though it may be acceptable to voice opinions regarding perceived errors of judgement, through the decades since the 80s Bono and U2 have been – and continue to be – a source of great joy and pleasure for millions of people. In other parts of the world huge numbers delight at any opportunity to express their enthusiasm and gratitude and I am happy to join them.
The BBC Abbey Road TV special was lambasted by some who seemed outraged that the BBC – a public service broadcaster – had provided U2 with a platform at a time when they were promoting a new album. I just saw a wondrous and exquisite musical event that reconnected me personally to an act that I had not looked at closely for a couple of years – and no – I didn’t buy the album! What I actually wanted to purchase – but couldn’t because it has not been released – was a DVD of that Abbey Road performance.
It seemed to me that U2, the orchestra – with John Metcalfe (who worked of late with Peter Gabriel’s ‘New Blood’ orchestra) arranging and conducting – and the choir complemented each other perfectly. The chosen songs – old and new – were revealed afresh and the performance in an intimate setting was really very touching. I was in particular moved to tears by renditions of “Every Breaking Wave” and “13 (There is a Light)”, but the whole concert was in my opinion simply wonderful.
Though you cannot purchase a DVD or CD of this excellent event you can, fortunately, locate all of the component parts of the show on YouTube and I encourage those with open minds and open hearts to indulge themselves thereon.
Go Canada!
I have written precious little of late about rugby!
In part this is because my team – Bath – are having one of those seasons in which they simply cannot get anything right. They are – miraculously – still mid-table in the Premiership, but looking at their losses to some of the perhaps less well equipped clubs in the league it is a considerable mystery that they are not doing even worse than they are.
Scotland are also keeping us all on tenterhooks. At a time when the Irish have finally beaten the All Blacks at home for the first time, when Wales have scraped wins over the Aussies and the Saffers and the English are finally starting to rediscover their swagger – Scotland remain worryingly tentative. Their game is certainly in a considerably better place than it was a few years back, but the Rugby World Cup in Japan in 2019 is rapidly bearing down on us and there is still a great deal to be done if the Scots are to be in a position to compete.
There is at last – however – good news in one quarter at least. Canada have themselves finally qualified for the 2019 World Cup (in which they now will compete for the ninth time in a row). Like the Scots the Canadians seemed determined to do everything the hard way. They eschewed both of the more conventional routes to qualification, ending up in the last chance saloon – a three week/four way repêchage competition in Marseilles facing Hong Kong, Germany(!) and Kenya – all of whom they had to beat to be sure of a place.
That Canada came through at the last gasp and finally booked their passage to Japan is indeed almost Scots-like in terms of gritty determination in the face of seemingly insuperable odds and they are to be hugely congratulated.
Well done! Go Canada!
Wild is the music
“The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest”.
Rabindranath Tagore
“Wild is the music of autumnal winds amongst the faded woods.”
William Wordsworth
Why should it be, I wonder, that I associate the autumn – the fall – with music?
Is it because – even though the summers are full of music, as we enjoy such delights as the Wednesday evening concerts in the park at Brentwood Bay – there is something particular about the long journey into winter that makes me long to be indoors, being comforted and moved – and that music is one of the greatest balms that I know.
Or perhaps I don’t really make that association at all! Perhaps I associate every season with music and it just happens to be autumn now. Or perhaps it’s just that – as they say north of the (Scottish!) border – “Ma bum’s oot the windae”!
Either way – last weekend we enjoyed once again one of the treats that the season routinely bestows upon us… the annual visit to the Mary Winspear Centre of Barney Bentall’s Caribou Express. Yes – I have waxed lyrical in the past on the subject of the delights extended by this hardened band of musical desperadoes and I have no doubt that I shall do so again.
There were eleven of them this year but the numbers matter not a jot. These boys – and girls – were at the Mary Winspear for three nights on the trot and they were enjoying not having to travel. This was their last night and they were clearly determined to enjoy it even more than the preceding two. They certainly need have had little fear that the packed crowd would do anything less than back them to the hilt… which is just what they – we! – did. The sound was great – the vibe fantastic. The joint was hopping and our hands and voices were sore the morning after!
So great to find something in these tempestuous times on which one can utterly rely.
Simple Minded
There clearly comes an age (though at what point this occurs I am not exactly sure) that the notion of one’s bucket list and the contents thereof emerges as a key concept. In all probability this happens on a sort of sliding scale, becoming more and more important as the years pass by and as an increasingly unacceptable percentage of the items on that list remain unaccomplished.
I mentioned in a post earlier in the year that an unexpected opportunity had arisen to see live for the first time a favourite band of mine – Simple Minds. Now – that missive was posted all the way back in April, such being the nature of the modern concert going experience that one must needs book one’s ticket half a year and more in advance if one is to have any chance at all of attending said event (at a sensible cost!). Still – it gives one something to which to look forward.
Having gazed steadfastly in the aforementioned direction throughout the summer and well into the autumn (fall) a couple of Mondays since found me ensconced on the ferry to Tsawwassen on my way to Vancouver for the long-awaited concert. The Girl was not – on this occasion – with me. This was a considerable ‘bummer’ as all things are better and more fun in her company, but when I had booked the tickets back in April she was mulling other plans. I mentioned in a previous post that she celebrated but a month ago a most significant birthday and she had originally been planning a trip abroad with a friend (on which I could not go because of my teaching!). By the time that adventure had unfortunately fallen through it was too late to get a ticket for the concert.
I thus found myself alone (amongst three thousand other eager souls) in the splendid Orpheum Theatre in Vancouver on a rainy late-October Monday evening. The Orpheum – designed by Scottish architect Marcus Priteca back in the 1920s – is home to the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra and is a National Historic Site of Canada.
The Orpheum is considered to have excellent acoustics but, whilst that may be true for classical concerts, I was not entirely convinced from my seat underneath the overhang of the balcony. It may have been that the sound engineer had different ideas to me as to what constitutes a good sound, or it might be that the area underneath the balcony traps certain frequencies; in any case it became apparent even from the pre-concert melange of 80s hits that the sound (played at what was for me too high a level to start with) comprised a great deal of low bass and a superfluity of unpleasantly aggressive high-mids, with a considerable gap in between in which important details were lost.
I had, fortunately, taken with me my musicians’ ear protectors, which enabled me to enjoy the concert, though at the cost of feeling slightly distanced from it throughout. Given the incredible quality of modern concert sound systems this was something of a shame – though I should say at once that the Minds were on excellent form and that they themselves were fantastic throughout. They played pretty much everything I was hoping to hear and it became clear that Jim (Kerr – founder member and vocalist) didn’t want to go home. Towards the end of an extended set of encores he enquired pleadingly of the crowd:
“Can we do one more?“.
Best moment of the evening? During the inevitable ‘Alive and Kicking‘ – as Jim conducted the eager fans in the extended “La, la, la…” singalong – he cracked everybody up by calling in broad Glaswegian:
“OK – now sing it in French!“.
Priceless!
The rice trick
If you know about the rice trick then there is a good chance that you – or someone of your acquaintance – has done that which I was unfortunate/careless enough to do a couple of weeks back… to drop my mobile device into a liquid! In my case it was into a hot bath…
OK – I feel the need to explain how a Capricorn such as myself (and thus naturally cautious in all things) contrived to do something so careless/stupid. Well – towards the end of the week I find myself pretty tired these days. Thursdays are particularly hard work, starting as they do with a fairly tough exercise class, continuing with a quick shower (no time for lunch!) and a rush to the college at which I teach for two and a half hours of classes and lab supervision followed by an hour or so in my office and on occasion a meeting of some sort… and then on some Thursdays on to something else in the evening.
Come Fridays I am usually ready for some relaxation – but not until domestic chores, shopping and cooking prep are done (yes – poor me!). Anyway – there eventually comes a point at which I like to immerse myself gratefully into nice hot bath.
If The Girl is out and about – as on this occasion – I leave my mobile phone somewhere to hand in case she should call. And, of course, call she did. Unfortunately I was fast asleep in the bath at this point. Being wrenched abruptly from my hard-earned slumber by the ring tone I grabbed sleepily for the phone with wet hands, jabbed at the speakerphone button and watched horrified as the device slipped from my grasp like a bar of soap and tumbled into the tub.
Fortunately instinct cut in at this point and I whipped the phone out of the water and powered it down, before getting as much water off it as I could with materials to hand. Once out of the tub I naturally turned to that source of all knowledge(!) – the InterWebNet – and discovered the rice trick.
This is the one where one gets as much moisture out of the gadget as possible by dabbing at it and turning it this way and that, before burying it in a container filled with rice. There it must be left for 24 – 48 hours so that the rice can absorb any moisture that remains in the device. Then, if one is lucky, it can be powered up again to see what (if any) damage has been done.
Of course, it helps hugely if the device is similar to my Galaxy S7 – which is advertised as being ‘water resistant’.
The good news in this case – which I sure will delight one and all – is that my phone suffered no ill effects at all and continues providing the excellent service that it has done to this point.
Phew!!
Overly-woke!
The Kickass Canada Girl – who loves her BBC comedies (quite understandably!) – brought this Tracey Ullman clip to my attention. It caused me to laugh hugely – so those of you who have not already seen it get a chance to do so now.
Keeping Faith
I had intended over the summer to write an entry on the subject of the BBC TV drama ‘Keeping Faith‘ – which we appreciated considerably throughout its eight week run. What with one thing and another I did not get around it and the moment has now somewhat passed, though I have no doubt that the series could be found online should the gentle reader feel moved to seek it out.
There were – however – several features of the show that I feel are sufficiently worthy of mention that I beg the indulgence of casual browsers and dedicated followers alike. You can – after all – simply skip ahead should you get bored!
‘Keeping Faith‘ was made initially for S4C (the Channel 4 Welsh language service) and was shown thereon in November of last year in Welsh with English subtitles. The subsequent run on BBC Wales this February was in English, as was the eventual showing on BBC One during the summer.
Unusually the series was shot simultaneously in both languages – each scene being shot twice. The protagonist – lawyer Faith Howells – was played by Welsh actress Eve Myles, who – in spite of her Welsh upbringing – had to learn the language specially for the role. This in itself is a pretty remarkable achievement, particularly given the intensity of the character concerned.
The series was beautifully filmed in Welsh settings and looks gorgeous. The significance of the attached photograph – which some may recognise as Dylan Thomas’ final residence, the Boathouse at Laugharne – is that the town and the estuary of the River Tâf were used extensively as locations for the filming.
The most striking feature of the series for me, however, was the evocative music that accompanied it. Six songs were written for the show by the wonderfully named singer/songwriter – Amy Wadge. Amy lives in Wales though she is by birth a Bristolian. If the name sounds familiar it will doubtless be because of her co-writing associations with artists such as Ed Sheeran, with whom she won the 2016 Grammy Award for Song of the Year.
The songs written for ‘Keeping Faith‘ have been released on the CD equivalent of an EP (not sure if younger folk will know what one of those is!) and I wholeheartedly recommend them. Ms Wadge is a considerable talent. Rather than me endeavouring to wax lyrical about something as subjective and evanescent as music, however, I would suggest that the gentle reader checks out the samples here.
Enjoy!