Moseley Folk Festival

MECCA BRUM
Birmingham UK is becoming so 'right on' since we first arrived here in 1990 it's in danger of disappearing up its own - well I'll leave that last word to your imagination.

FESTIVAL OF ENCHANTMENT
This is us just arriving at the annual Moseley Folk Festival two weeks' ago. It had an amazing line up, as it does every year, including 'Guillemots', 'Beth Jean Houghton & the Hooves of Destiny,'The Destroyers - Moseley being where the motley crew first joined forces in 2006; the magical Micky Greaney; a wonderful new discovery for us 'Goodnight Lennin', five talented lads who perform with a maturity that belies their youth; and on the Bohemian Stage we were wowed by 'Brother the Wolfe', who I am sure we will hear and see more and more of. Held in the enchanting Moseley Park by a beautiful lake bedecked with swans, as a venue alone it has a unique character that marks this festival out among the many held around the country throughout the summer. Undoubtedly for both of us though, the pinnacle of this occasion was when Julian Cope took to the main stage. After all these years he has still not lost his acerbic edge and 'cool' that give both his performance and work such dynamism.

SUNSPOTS
Laying in the sunshine - yes it actually came out for the festival - among the thousands of other festival goers, I contented myself at first with just listening to Cope, but had to stand in the end to get a proper look. I was shocked to discover that it was just him on the stage, holding his own, making such a glorious, riotous sound. Husband and I were wowed when he played 'Sunspots', we stood our ground and raved in joyousness as Cope played and sang on. It will certainly be a moment in our lives that we will always remember, to end this sentence with any further sentimentality would go against the general Cope ethos. No doubt he would laugh in our faces if we were ever fortunate enough to be able to tell him to his face how much it meant to us.

Against all the odds, I actually managed to take this picture, as I literally had sunspots in my eyes and couldn't see a thing. I just aimed and pressed, nothing to lose. And I didn't.

Here Cope is, standing to the right of the picture, in all his glory at 54 years of age, looking every bit the cool dude he always will be. To the left on his drum is written:'You can't beat your brain for entertainment.' Don't ask!

Rude Uncaring Policeman

Over 24 Hours Missing

Recently I had reason to telephone our local police to report my son missing. He'd been out all day and all night and didn't show up at college the next morning. This is out of character; despite everything, he usually has the good sense to inform us if he's staying with a friend for the night.

By the next day I was climbing the wall, and my imagination was going into overdrive - he lives in a big city where knife crime is a problem and he's a young man, so, vulnerable in many ways. Ringing around our local hospitals, husband and I were met with nothing but sympathy and assistance. The response from our local police however couldn't have been more different. In fact it was nothing short of a disaster.

Rude Policeman
The communication we had by front-line police-telephone was devoid of basic politeness, let alone anything close to emotional intelligence. I'm inclined to refer to the individual that took our call as PC Plod, and that is being polite I reckon. His tone was demeaning and patronising and he informed me that as my son had no ill-health, wasn't depressed and seemed to be in an equable mood when he left home, he was not to be categorised as a high-priority missing person and would be placed on 'hold'.

Verbal Tirade
I'm pleased to inform that son did eventually turn up, with some reasonable excuses, but I won't go down that route, just to say that he was safe and sound. When I rang Mr Plod back to inform him, I was greeted with a verbal tirade that went on for precisely 17 minutes. I know because we timed him. We put the mobile on the kitchen table, volume up and listened in mounting disbelief. Plod accused us of wasting police time, although all he'd done was spend five minutes taking a few details over the telephone. He lectured us on how the police investigated a missing person, itemising the lengths they went to. He also gave us some patronising advice: to inform our son that as he was living at home with us he should be living by our rules, seriously he said that.

A Bit Scary
It was a strange and slightly unnerving experience. When he eventually finished, husband and I just sat in a stunned silence. Mr Plod was after all meant to be delivering a service that we pay for through our council tax, and we didn't really know what to make of it. The man sounded deranged, unsafe even. And one more thing - if something awful had happened to our son, and we hadn't reported him missing, how would that have made us appear in the eyes of the law?

Tips
Anyway here's a few tips that we've learnt the hard way, none forthcoming from PC Plod I hasten to say, but may be of help for others to prevent the same from happening:

1 Stay abreast of any changes in your own contact details and get off-spring to memorise them. (We were remiss here due to a recent change in job.)

2 Give permission to have your number passed onto some of the more trusted friends of off-spring, should something happen to off-spring's mobile.

3 Ask for off-spring's friends' contact details and names of their friends. They rely so much on Facebook these days you have to make a point of 'catching' these. (We had no idea! Well he is 18.)

4 Check that land-line hasn't got a fault - ours had - and is functioning, even if it had been working earlier on; (don't you just love Virgin?)

5 Most importantly, keep telling your off-spring that you would really really miss them if they decide not to appear when you usually would expect them too!! (Apparently, there have been times when son has been in and we have failed to notice!)

From: The Stolen Child by WB Yeats
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand.
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

pleasenoxhere.tumblr.com MY SON'S STUFF

Young Adult on the Cusp

Growing Pains
Just wondering if there is any information out there about parenting for young adults who are 'on the cusp' so to speak. I mean, suddenly they 'come of age' don't they. One day they're not and the next they are. One day you can legitimately have a little bit of a nosey around, check that all is ok, and the next, well, you can't, not easily anyway. Not if you're like us and not sure where you stand. (For 'us' and 'we' I am referring to me and husband.)

Don't get me wrong, we are really not that meddlesome as parents, but in the fairly recent past, we would have experienced problems if we hadn't been just a little bit inquisitive. Like, keeping an eye on attendance at college, making sure that the university application has been jogging along nicely, even checking out the bank balance to ensure that it didn't go into the red. Now though we are questioning whether we should or not; how much we should interfere or leave things to chance. And it's all very well some of you saying he - our son - must learn through his own mistakes, but we are inclined to bellow back 'not at our expense he's not going to.'

The Inbetweeny Parents
While we are helping towards his finance as he studies, we feel that he owes it to us to give us an update. On the other hand there isn't anyone out there who considers it to be our business any more. So, we feel like the 'inbetweeny parents' without a role in the eyes of the law I suppose, but feel that it isn't quite over yet.

One of the problems is that nowadays with the cost of doing a degree going up so very much, more and more students are opting to study from home to avoid living and travel expenses. I don't think that anyone has really looked at the impact that this may have on the parents, not only from the fiscal side of things, but from the emotional as well.

Headstrong Headlong ...
The old adage, 'what the eye doesn't see the heart won't grieve over' comes very much to mind here. Once upon a time 'on the cusps' might have done their final bit of growing up whilst studying well away from their parents. On home turf however, must we watch helplessly on the side lines? Knowing that there is an awful lot more that life is going to dish out to our off-spring as they quite rightly take risks, as apparently they are programmed to do according to some behavioural scientists, is like watching a horror movie. You know that the inevitable is going to happen but you can't intervene. So, we ask once again, if there is any advice on how to cope with this state of affairs, we would be most grateful.

Bad Restaurant Experience

In Search of Somewhere Different to Eat
I'm not sure whether I should be grumbling about feeling short-changed, after eating at a restaurant the other night. Many would be grumbling back at me saying 'lucky old you' as most of us are having to penny pinch at the moment. Nevertheless, husband and I decided to treat ourselves, and we went to a part of the city that we don't usually go, in search of somewhere that looked different and promising.

We opted for a hotel restaurant, new to us, it looked inviting, not too brightly lit, lots of fluttering candlelight, soft honey coloured walls, not too homey, just enough finesse to make it feel kind of special.

Doesn't Look Like What I Ordered
Our starters were not that good and so we were surprised that our main meals were served by the waitress with such a confident flourish as she set them triumphantly down. "There you go, enjoy!" She swooped off before I could ask her for a jug of tap-water.

When I looked down, what she had left before me was a huge white china plate and right in its centre was a small mound of ‘steaming’. About the size of a small tin of cat-food, and actually now I come to mention it, yeah, well - you get the picture. I looked across at my husband and his face was not a happy one. His meal looked a bit like mine except there were a few dark brown blobs, albeit artistically arranged, around his central mound of, er, ‘steaming’.

'Building the Dish'
He looked over at me and scowled. "You know who we have to thank for this don't you?" He said. I shook my head trying not to laugh, because I did know really, I just wanted husband to say it out loud because it winds him up and that's what makes me laugh. "It's that bloody Gary Rhodes and his bloody 'building the dish,' he's the one that started this stupid idea. I mean just look at this, this is meant to be pork and potatoes with courgettes and carrots, but everything is piled on top of everything and I can't bloody well see what's what, and whether I've got what I'm paying for, and by the size of it, I don't think I'm getting my money's worth. You couldn't feed a, a, ..." "Cat?" I said, "yeah a bloody cat, on this lump of, of, ..." "Cat-food?" "Yeah, bloody cat-food, and I'm not bloody paying for it."

So we didn't. We had the Matron D fawning over us and offering free champagne, but we don't like it. She thought that we were a strange pair not to like champagne but what about a free pudding? We don't eat puddings either we said, as we put on our coats.

Short-changed by 'Chef Art'
Neither of us really understand this habit that some chefs have of piling one thing on top of another. Is it a form of art, like chef art?

I can sort of compare it in as strange way to what my hairdresser does after he has cut my hair. He always has to finish off by blow-drying it into a great mushroom mound and then rubs and teases and twists it into a sculptural shape with wax. Then I go home and dunk it in a sink of water and let it dry naturally because that is what I really wanted.

In both cases we have artisans straining to become artists, however, both are providing a personal service and both have to eventually relinquish their 'creation'. The hair-style and the dinner are absorbed and must become integral to the client. The dinner even more so, at least a hair style for a small period of time may resemble something of the original intention.

Going back to the food thing though, thing about building the dish is that - aside from the scams where you cannot see exactly what you're getting- it denies the pleasure of deciding how to eat the different elements of the meal, how to mix and match the flavours according to personal taste. In my book that takes a lot of the pleasure away from the

eating experience and in future we will have to ask if the chef 'builds his dish’ to prevent further disappointment.

The hair picture is the artistic version of a short back and sides.

Bad Teaching

On Role Models
I do not remember having a particular role model in any of my schools. In fact I hardly remember very much of my schooling before the age of 10 years, although, I may have been subconsciously informed.

The Done Thing
When I was at school it was in the 60s and 70s and unfortunately corporal punishment was commonly practiced then. What I do recall are episodes when such punishment was given. Classes were interspersed with painful whacks on the back of the hand with a ruler and worse.

There was one particular teacher who used to punish by making a child stand in front of the whole class while he squeezed the back of its neck, increasing the pressure until the child would go red and start to cry with the pain.

As I grew older I remember being acutely aware of how an adult should not behave. I was never impressed with the displays of bad temper that we used to frequently endure. May be we were particularly unruly, but I don’t think that we were any better or worse than most of the other children of the time. Judging by what I remember my friends and siblings saying, teacher outbursts and frequent use of corporal punishment seemed to be a common experience for most school kids back in those days.

Teaching Today
Today, when I see the primary school teachers teach, I am very impressed with the way they try to gain enthusiasm and enjoyment from the class as a whole. They have a very difficult and tiring job role, but when it is done well, there is nothing like the feed-back and positive responses that they get from the children to spur them on. As an ex performer I’d liken it to being on the stage and doing ‘good out there’.

Learning for Life
I believe that as learning is a life long process and not just something we do at school and then set aside, teachers have a duty to enable youngsters to find pleasure and gain satisfaction from their classes.

Striving to show that it can be both these things at the outset of the educational journey is just as important as learning our ABC and 123.

If just this can be encouraged in the early years then it will hopefully be something that is taken to heart by even the most resilient learner and remembered for life.

Here are turtles - they live for a very long time. All they do is eat and poo. What a life.

On the Demise of British Highstreets

Before the days of the great corporate chain stores that now dominate our town centres, shopping used to be an eclectic and delightful experience full of surprise. Now it has become so predictable. One high street looks like all the others. Many of us don't even bother to walk the streets and look at the shop fronts that are meant to entice us outside. We stay in and shop online.

When I first started blogging it was just as the recession was really kicking in and I wrote about the fall of a much loved shop of mine called The Pier.

It was stocked with the most wonderful items from around the world. Although it was a chain, entering the premises was like walking into an Aladdin's cave. It was the closest I could get to the days when I was a lot younger, and independent small traders were the norm.

Today, with the recession still showing no signs of going, we are seeing the demise of the last of the independent traders as they struggle against the odds to stay afloat, whilst trying to compete with the corporate giants.

The recent riots in a suburban Bristol town over Tesco domination did not surprise me in the least. In my own local town there have been similar protests over Tesco placing yet another of its supermarkets in our small vicinity and the circumstances are very similar. Here we also have a much cherished and lively town centre, with individual and creative retailers and a thriving farmers' market selling local produce once a month. These smaller businesses are no match for Tesco and our lovely community will become a ghost town if something isn't done to redress a balance.

Although there is a demand for the larger chains, there is also it would seem, according to recent news reports, an increase in the number of shoppers who are seeking something just that little bit different. The little pockets of lively idiosyncratic trading that still persist around the country have a large influx of visitors every weekend, who are yearning for this alternative shopping route.

At our recent visit to the Norfolk town of Norwich we were delighted to see so much individuality in the older part of the city and wondered if this might in part be due to the fact that it doesn't have a major motorway leading directly to it. Maybe just this little bit of cut off from the main drag has been a blessing in disguise. The photo is of its lovely arts and crafts style shopping arcade.

It is also telling that the government is concerned that the number of shops in our town centres are empty and has recently asked Mary Portas, Queen of retail experience to undertake an investigation with suggestions to try and turn things around. I think that it is important that she achieves this before our society goes completely down the pan. It could be argued that these individual town centres allow for more diversity and therefore encourage greater community cohesion. Whether this is the case or not, it is our creative individuals, the craftspeople, designers, farmers and produce makers who make up a large proportion of the independent shop owners. These guys strive to discover and explore all that is new and to be savoured, often pulling against the current trends and establishing the stuff of the future. If they didn't, we will be churning out the 'same ol same ol' with little thought of our cultural and social well being so long as its cheep and cheerful.

And a further consideration are the number of times the superstores muscle in on a design or an idea, but will insist that in order to go into manufacture for as cheaply as possible, in the large quantities desired for profit margins, corners will have to be cut, compromise will have to be made and it is a rare instance that these decisions do not affect the quality of the original intention. One hates to think about the integrity of the design and where things stand if the designer were to pull out with regards to copyright. The demise of the farmer and the food producer and their tradings with the large supermarkets, has also been well documented, as being a far from pleasant experience. With reports of price undercutting and bullying tactics it is no wonder that British food producers are going under with the pressure.

There are therefore many, many reasons why I would like to see Ms Portas achieving a redress of balance in the retail industry, and I am keeping my fingers crossed and hoping. But if she is taking on the might of the retail giants I am not so sure that a winning smile and platitudes will be enough.