Archive for May, 2008

Bungay Show

Thursday, May 29th, 2008

The Bungay show was a weird one this year, what with having a theme and all. I wasn’t all that certain how well having Britain’s Got Talent style judging would work, but the usual ‘let’s all chill out and be nice to each other’ feel was still there. Kind of…

Rob impressed me with newly thought out stuff (+1), although at times it felt meandering and long-winded (-1). It was painfully obvious just how new the whole thing was too; the lack of music, grindingly slow intro and disjointed feel of it all making me wish he’d saved it for next year (-1). But there were some nice touches in there, including a couple of club flourishes that made me bleat with appreciation and a general dab-handedness at the whole juggling thing (+1).

Just Shameless (?) lived up to his name. The only positive thing I can think to say about the boy was that he was on mercifully early on in the show and thus didn’t sap a whole evening’s worth of energy out of the room. Just one act’s worth. The very notion of standing up in front of a room of people and getting them to sing together just appalls me and it certainly wasn’t an appropriate thing to have in the show (-1). He came across as pretentious and naive (-1) and was, I’m quite sure, instantly disliked by the vast majority of the audience, who justifiably didn’t want anything to do with it and would have maintained a stoney silence if it hadn’t been for the one or two people (probably Bungay locals) who felt like, under the circumstances, they should condescend to partipate. To make matters worse, this lad chose to further scupper himself by picking a song which no one else in the world knows the words to, not to mention one which (I have to agree with Alby) smacked of religious/new age/hippy bullshit sentimentality (-1). I feel that it’s worthy of note that I actually began to feel physically sick as the whole cringingly embrassing charade went on with no sign of ending(-1). To be fair to the boy, I can kind of see the predicament he was in. He had reached a point, quite early on in proceedings, where it was obvious that the audience wasn’t prepared to join in, but the longer he was stood up the harder and harder it was for him to admit his mistake and sit back down again. Especially so because technically he was supposed to be waiting for the judges to tell him to stop. It was, however, rather apparent that the judges were taking the piss (-1). What turned out to be a nightmarish, never-ending and exquisitely embarrassing act should realistically have lasted about five seconds.

The idea of a judged talent show does suggest a come-one-come-all mentality so I suppose the lad was perfectly within his rights to have a go, but surely-if only to save the respectability of the show-the reasonable expectation is for Ewan to vet the acts beforehand. It seems rather cruel to put a young lad (naive/retarded as he may be) through such a painfully humiliating experience in terms of firstly allowing him on stage and then secondly having the whole thing dragged out by the judges. (-1)

By this point in the show I was growing tired of the judging breaks between acts. Aside from a few particularly witty remarks there really didn’t seem any justifiable purpose in the question/comment sessions, and certainly not Al running on and off stage with oversized comedy props, which I couldn’t help but feel was included to give Al something to do and/or to get cheap laughs for using oversized comedy props. It certainly felt incongruous to the talent show theme. (-1)

Martin and Paul did passing. w00t. (+1) And did it very well. w00t. (+1) There was a nice mix of old skool stuff and fancy 7 and 8 club bits. Mandy was spot on though: they needed to add a dollop of freaky lefty-righty stuff as a bit of spice. (-1)

Sean did his Singin’ In The Rain routine again which brought back nice memories of how much I’d enjoyed it at Leeds. (+1) It was as tidy and entertaining as ever and not particularly droppy (+1), but did suffer from his ending just not working (-1).

By the end of the first half I’d had enough of Monty. Again, I felt like having set pieces like this went against the grain of bothering doing the proper talent show thing, and every time he came on stage it just looked like padding. (-1)

James did some rockin’ hard shit, innit. (+1) He had a shaky start and suffered really badly from nervous droppiness (-1) but his routine was interspersed with some completely cool stuff that made me smile. Broadly. (+1) James is definitely someone I want to go away and perform lots somewhere else and then come back and wow me. I’m looking forward to seeing him somewhere again. (+1) Oh, and he smashed a little kid in the face with a club. Shot, Sir. (+1)

Sam is a very cool kid and it was nice to see him get involved this year. And yes, he’s dead good on a pair of stilts and can keep a diabolo going competently. (+1) But applauding small children for being, at best, of average talent bores me. And when it goes on for five minutes it irritates me. (-1) Particularly as Sam is an intelligent enough kid that patronising him like that is just embarassing. Again, I was disappointed with the judges for not getting him off the stage. (-1)

Blake struck me as an older, hairier, not quite so agile Jon Peat. His manic throwing himself around the stage and is intermittantly smiley face entertained me very well (+1) and he finished a really three ball body-moves routine with a fancy bit of two devil stick work (+1). But then it all went very Norbi (although with possibly a tad more innovation). Coat-hangers aren’t pretty looking and are evidently an agonisingly unworkable prop to do anything on stage with. (-1) It was unfortunate that what had been a very competent act spiralled into a droppy horrible mess of turning things upside down and round in circles. (-1)

Monty came on, finally, to do the Bungay trick. He did it. It was good. (+1) He unfortunately felt the need to preface it with a bit of rubbishy balancing on a beer barrel though. (-1)Then he just started dropping things. It would have been nice if his grande finale trick had worked. But it didn’t. And frankly wasn’t going to. It made the Bungay trick look a bit rubbish without actually satisfying the audience with anything better. (-1)

Grant Goldie did a Butlins-perfect, slick and shiny hat routine which was boppy and entertaining enough for me not to be too worried that the final act involved hats (+1). He certainly had the most energy and style of anyone in the show (+1). He shouldn’t have bothered with the hat/cane/chin/foot thing though. It was never going to live up to last time. (-1)

I couldn’t make up my mind what I thought of the show for a long time. I think Ewan was quite brave to try out a theme, but I’m not convinced it worked very well. The whole thing felt bitty and disjointed for no real purpose and I couldn’t reconcile the mock-serious judging stuff with the Al/Monty/dragging bad acts out stuff. It just didn’t fit well together. Having said that, I did enjoy myself. A bit of an informal arse-around is perfectly welcome once or twice a year. It just doesn’t happen to score very well.

It was nice to get Farmer Paul involved at any rate. I think he enjoyed it.

The Bungay show scores: (-4)

Bungay 2008

Wednesday, May 28th, 2008

My long, luxurious week of afternoon naps and strolls through the buttercups is over. That Bungaylicious feeling is slowly seeping out of me and it’s time to thinking about jobs and houses and Lesticles. I do still have a marvellous-if slightly self induced-tan though.

Bungay was a quiet one this year, possibly due to dodgy weather forecasts, although right up until Sunday was balmy and summer-like. Perfect weather for croquet, apparently, but not so much for riding or being in any way active and vibrant.

Alby’s plan to unicycle every day didn’t amount to much but he didn’t do half badly. I had had visions of us getting to St Peter’s Brewery by the end of the week and indulging in celebratory drinks and sit-downs, but as it happens I had to suffice with a trip to the dog next door. It was too hot for any meaningful travel anyway. I was, however, ever so slightly impressed that after a year without riding I managed to cope without a single UPD. w00t!

I was actually quite content to sit on site a lot more this year and let the boys go shopping and whatnot. My only really purposeful wanderings took me across Farmer Paul’s thigh-high fields to the Rumburgh Buck a couple of times where we alternately worried the staff, ate decent food, and were on the receiving end of some unnecessarily rude and surly behaviour from one of the bar maids.

I took a constitutional to visit a few of the local sights one day mid-week and finally brought the camera out into the light of day. I visited the pony who seems to be doing well, checked up on the deformed cow in the next field, got shouted at by an over-protective mother sheep, read my book in a graveyard, took arty pictures of a church further up the road, waved at a man driving a combine harvester thingy (he didn’t wave back), said hello to a very enthusiastic dog with floppy ears, got to the brewery and saw how pink I was going and headed back home.

[

Not being terribly enthused about the book I was wading through made me spend a spot more time in the big top this year. It's always a struggle for me to sit around people cause I have absolutely nothing to say to anyone. But everyone is nice, as a general rule. And the comfy chairs were particularly comfy, although I'm still unsure about rocking deck chairs. I talked to people I've never talked to before, giggled a lot, and vaguely learnt the essentials of backgammon. My mad volley club skillz came on a treat as well. I even managed a game against Ian and Mandy and left feeling like I hadn't completely embarrassed myself. Success.

Foodwise, I came home feeling a desperate urge for fresh fruit and veg, but we managed to be quite civilised. I only scoffed two bags of crisps taking my year's total up to 11, I think. Possibly 12. Not bad at any rate, considering I've cut down from one bag a day. Pete spoilt us, ambassadorially, with a couple of curries and some pasta-y stuff. The unfortunately over-priced cafe food meant that we had a roaring turnout for our barbeque too and got lumbered with lots of meaty stuff that turned rancid in the tent. Nyom.

Alby and I did a fair bit of good juggly stuff over the week. Ian explained what 7 club techno is and we royally pwned back-to-back and transitions between 7 club stuff. Huzzah! We even started learning new stuff, although by the end of the week it was evident that I was just too sleepy-tired to make any more progress.

The trip to see Circus Ferrel went rather well. Saxmundham wasn’t exactly overwhelmed by their presence, but I think we were all enthusiastic enough to cover the local apathy. And fair play to them, by the end of the show a couple of the local mums were cheering and chanting along with us. My extra especial appreciation went to Alex’s nipples for being perky and cheerful, and to the two local lads who did one of the best clown skits I’ve ever seen. Hehehe. He trapped his willy in the easel. Hehehehe. Sarah’s ring act was super cool as well. If she can do that again in next year’s BYJOTY she’ll storm it.

Oh yeah, I also got groped by Ewan, licked by some manky stray dog, got a personal best by taking my afternoon nap at 10am, had a spot-on steak, was impressed by Fak’s dancing, and generally had a really, really, really good time.

And I’m so sad to be back in the real world you wouldn’t believe.

Our Wholesome Summer Saturday

Saturday, May 10th, 2008

It’s Alan’s birthday weekend. He decided we should go for a walk in t’country. It involved getting up early, having Darren collect us, meeting Ruth and John (who were very nice) and going out to Tilton to do the same walk Alan had done the week before with his folks. We started out at about 11am. It was muggy. We were slathered in factor 50+.

We negotiated the teeny tiniest, most nettley, overgrown piece of public footpath in the world and wandered into a field with a horse in it. His name was Rambo and he was the friendliest horse I’ve ever met. He came and said hello and let us stroke his nose. And even when it was obvious that we didn’t have any food he kept following us. Rambo and I had our photo taken and he slobbered on my t-shirt in an affectionate manner. I felt bad when we had to leave.

As well as horses we met a number of dogs, ranging from barky and territorial to out-for-a-walk and terribly happy to see us. There were also cowardly sheep, cute little lambs with waggly tails, and the most enormous and menacing herds of cows in the world. We had to cross a couple of cow-fields. The cows were maliciously blocking our access to the stile in both of them. And then looking pissed off when we tried to get by. One of them had a beard. Knowing that Pete has had ‘encounters’ with cows before, I was slightly worried by the whole thing. But we escaped intact. And with a new appreciation of how easy it would be to die if a cow decided to sit on you.

We had to close our eyes and make a leap of faith across an unassuming but perilously fetid looking bog, and then clamber up a particularly steep bit of the world. I got to pretend I was Brian Blessed at the top though. And then we ate lunch in a 300 year old pub. Ruth and I had shandies. Nyum. And then on the way back to the car we had to navigate a hilarious bit of horse/cow/sheep trodden undulant mudcake. I was doing well until I stepped in a wet bit and nearly had my shoe sucked off. Sshlurp. Must remember to clean my shoes before work on Monday.

By the time we got back to the cars it was even muggier. The cloud had cleared and the sun was baking us nicely. Everyone had the most delightful sweat patches. Pete and I were hot and surly in a particularly Northern manner. As pleasant as that bit of the country is, it was time to leave.

When we got home we were hit with a blast of domesticity and decided that we really needed to cut the lawn. It was at about knee height. Not owning a lawn mower inhibited our chopping abilities though. We had a fair whack at it with the strimmer but eventually had to give in and do a trip to B&Q. We bought a cheap and cheery Flymo cut and suck jobby. It did alright considering the bockety, clumpy, weed and twig infested nightmare that is our lawn. Roll on the day we hire a rotavator.

It’d be nice to think that we could have a nice day of loafing around tomorrow but we’ve got a plasterer turning up on Tuesday. Must crack on. Sigh.

You decide

Sunday, May 4th, 2008

Overly stern?

Or eating a biscuit?