THE world around us, the modern Western world, is jaded, sclerotic, complacent, and rapidly losing its self-confidence – so I’ve been trying to ginger things up by getting out and about a bit on the Wirral.
(I know, I’m never going to spark a revolution.)
First thing to record was that The Bards of New Brighton had a good opening night of poetry at our new home, the Magazine pub.
Two men, both called Ian, read very good stuff, and I was impressed by the poems of Newbie, who sometimes leaves comments on this blog.
Newbie read his piece called “It’s the Government’s fault”, which explores the pathetic, lazy tendency of people to blame governments for their every misfortune, real or imagined.
The night after the Bards I went to do a turn as a comedian at The Scouse House in Birkenhead town centre.
The event was billed as an Open Mike Funny Club and hosted by the two Harland brothers, who are originally from Hull (where, incidentally, I used to write a caustic column for the local evening paper).
The brothers performed a kind of observational comedy mixed in with banter about relationships and (in Sam Harland’s case) a few rather overlong gags about sexual intercourse.
Sharing the compere’s duties for the night, the brothers also indulged in the standard teasing of members of the audience, which is a feature of modern comedy clubs, but not one I particularly like.
Sam Harland told the audience I look like Christopher Biggins. I told the audience Sam had got two showbiz names mixed up – that he meant to say I resembled Orlando Bloom.
To be fair, I don’t think most of The Scouse House acts (myself included) would claim to be top class comedians – but we all managed to get a few laughs on the night.
I did my routine about extraterrestrial beings setting up a base in Liverpool for their planned conquest of the Earth, and a few polite titters ran through the audience.
When I left at the end of the night two male members of the audience came up and congratulated me on my act, one saying it was “very original”.
“Original” my aliens routine might be, but judging by the type of acts doing the rounds in comedy clubs these days (very samey, and usually quite tediously observational) it’s not difficult to be original.
The person who stole the show at The Scouse House was poet and Wirral hero John Gorman.
John did a routine about whisky bottles, based on the “Ten Green Bottles” song and featuring him saving and drinking each imaginary bottle of whisky as it was poised and to “accidentally fall”.
JG did a very funny impression of a man getting hog-wimperingly drunk, and that was an impressive piece of physical acting.
We’ve also been out and about in Parkgate, me and Posh Boots, where we paid through the nose for coffee in the Boathouse pub, but enjoyed the rhubarb and custard flavoured ice-cream we got from Nicholls.
I will happily drive miles to get good ice-cream – which is just as well as I live in Merseyside…
There are hardly any good local ice-cream makers here, which is why Wall’s, the bland national ice-cream empire has such a stranglehold in Liverpool and even in places such as West Kirby, where I was hoping the kiosk near the Marine Lake would stock do a good brand of independently produced stuff. No, that’s a Wall’s outlet too.
And in New Brighton the only ice-cream vans allowed on the front are the Showtime ones, which sell very bland and over-priced soft ice-cream. There is just no choice, and that, I understand, is the fault of the Daleks at the Death Star (Wirral Council) who grant licences for ice-cream vans on the Promenade.
Now, I don’t like the soft squirty stuff. To me it is not proper ice-cream.
Proper ice-cream should be hard and served in scoopfuls – not as a jet of slurry.
Another thing … why can’t you buy a plain sandwich wafer filled with ice-cream these days? They used to be my favourites.
If you have forgotten just how brilliant ice-cream can be, go to Parkgate front and get one from Nicholls. Try the classic vanilla-flavoured one first.
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Mark Conroy wrote...
Hi Steve
Found your blog at last.
Very impressed.
Just one question, what does sclerotic mean ?
Best regards
Mark.
REGAN REPLIED: Hi Mark. Sclerotic, hardened by disease. I meant it in the sense that nothing really functions the way it ought to any more in this country. How are ye, anyway? It's about time a group of us old boys from St John Rigby Sixth Form College went out in Wigan for a few beers and a curry.
Posted by: Mark Conroy | June 9, 2008 9:19 AM