March 2007 Archives
A COUPLE of very significant dates loom in my life.
First up this Monday (April 2) is the second meeting of the poetry group I’ve started up, the Bards of New Brighton.
Then on April 7 it’s my birthday. More about that further on in this posting.
Anyway, if you write poetry – and a surprisingly large number of people do – then please come along to the ‘Bards’ poetry night at the Little Brighton pub (known locally as ‘The Ginny’) in Rowson Street, New Brighton, starting at 8.45pm. Admission is free.
We are a friendly, supportive group, and I am grateful for the encouragement of Shirley and Fred, landlady and landlord of The Ginny.
I am currently writing a fresh poem every week for the Breakfast programme on BBC Radio Merseyside.
WELL I can now tick a visit to the Pacific Road ‘arts centre’ off my to-do list.
I went to the Birkenhead venue one night last week to see the excellent Wallasey band, Reckless Elbow.
‘Reckless’ do Celtic rock and a bit of country, and I would heartily recommend them, though perhaps their appeal is to a slightly older crowd, say the over-30s.
Catching their gigs is not likely to be top priority for the Hip Young Gunslingers of the music scene, if you get my drift.
So what did I think of Pacific Road?
IN the previous posting to this blog I joked that the reason God invented alcohol was so that the strain of raising children could be made tolerable (just).
But actually I have been giving much serious thought to the subject of parenthood recently.
I don’t have any children, you see, and that is the source of considerable personal regret.
As I approach my 50th birthday, it often feels like I have missed out on one of the great accomplishments and responsibilities that human life can offer.
IT’S amazing how puritanical about booze British people can be - given that an estimated 60 per cent of the population (including me) regularly over-indulge in alcohol.
At the risk of offending those with a delicate disposition, let me confess that last Monday night (or early Tuesday morning, rather) when I came home after spending seven hours guzzling red wine, Guinness and Southern Comfort at my local pub, I promptly threw up all over my bedroom floor.
In truth, I have only just finished scrubbing and disinfecting the carpet as I write this.
Bingeing on booze and then vomiting isn’t smart and it isn’t clever - but I am not really ashamed of myself since it doesn't happen to me very often.
HERE we go again. The political pygmies who run the councils on both banks of the Mersey are talking with the discredited Blair Government about forming an extra tier of local administration.
Leaders and chief executives of six local councils have met with local government minister Phil Woolas to discuss the setting up of a Liverpool City Region.
I hope it never happens. We need less local government in these parts, not more.
While many people (myself included) love Liverpool, not everybody in the surrounding area wants to be closely identified with it.
And even the most ardent fan of the city can see that the current plethora of publicly-funded bodies running tourism and regeneration in Liverpool are doing a p***poor job.
SO this is the big day – the day I launch a poetry club for poor, old neglected Wallasey.
The inaugural meeting of ‘The Bards of New Brighton’ – as the club will be called – takes place at the Little Brighton Inn, Rowson Street, New Brighton, tonight (Mon 5 March 2007) in the sectioned off front bar, starting at 8.45pm.
After tonight’s launch the poetry club (which anyone can join, for free) there will be meetings in the same place, at the same time, on each first Monday of the month.
I am really looking forward to tonight's launch event, though also a bit nervous.