Not Once

When I was young and single I never really did the gay scene.
At that time Sheffield's scene was confined to a few pubs and clubs most  of which were located in the industrial badlands of the old steel city.
They were glittery, camp and very rough around the edges.
Former steel working pubs that had died when the factories and works died in the Lower Don Valley.

I went out occasionally with a group of men who were
 the friends of Nige who was one of my best friends. As I recall they all dressed up to the nines like the gals in Sex and the city . 
My friend I were more conservative in our looks.
Nigel is neater and tidier than I.
I disliked those pubs especially the one called Demseys which wasn't particularly rough as it was common.
Demseys catered for a gay clientele many of whom went out after supermarket shopping in the cuty centre so it was common to have to negotiate bags of peas and tins of this and that scattered on the laminate floor when you fought to get yourself to the bar.
They also gave out occasional freebees of anaemic looking sausages on paper plates before last orders
Lovely!
I much preferred the once a month gay night which was based at the city Hall's ballroom. The Art Deco ballroom resembled the main dining saloon in a The Poseidon Adventure and so suited my camp love of 1970 disaster movies.
It was also quite dark so I could hide my bad dancing ability behind the ballroom pillars.

It was at a time before "swipe the app left or right on your phone" and the dating technology them was a sticker with a number on it. The sticker was  slapped unceremoniously onto your left shoulder as you entered.
In the corner of the ballroom was situated an overhead projector! And if someone fancied you, they would write your number with a felt pen on the acetate ! When you read your number you would have to walk the walk to see who had " picked you" 
Perhaps it was my dress sense
Perhaps it was my lack of dancing ability
Perhaps it was my clumsy walk or the odd bleach stain on my t shirt

But I never got picked! 
Not once!


Ps we may make 500 comments! If you read Sunday's blog entry and didn't comment ..please do so ( ON SUNDAY's blog please ) leaving your name and location ......it was a great experiment 

400

It's bugging me that we couldn't reach 400 comments on yesterday's blog

So if you didn't give your name and location 

Please do so right now! 

I loved the connection 

Single Walking

I was tempted to leave yesterday's post as it is, uncluttered by the thoughts from today.
I can't tell you how moved I was, surrounded by the snippets of the personal- names and locations of the great and the good and it's wonderful to think that several hundred of us pop back and forth in order to share the thoughts of someone we are never destined to meet.

Mary and I had our lunch on Colwyn Bay beach again this afternoon. We shared a ham baguette from Bryn Williams 'and she shared a water bowl of a large hot black Labrador who we passed lying under the shade of his owner's 4x4.
We walked the length of the promenade and back.
I always think that I look safer walking a dog. I have the rather odd impression that people think a single middle aged man walking alone is someone to be suspicious of in some way which I know is a discourtesy to single middle aged men everywhere.
I think a jaunty Mary offset my jaunty second best Walking Dead T shirt today and
It amused me that when we stopped for coffee at one of the promenade cafes a large biker type called out a lusty " Daryl Dixon is the best" as a passed by him and gave me a high five.
Mary woofed at him as he did so.

where are you?

Hot at 7 am...Mary and Albert watching rabbits

I couldn't sleep and was up by quarter to seven. It was almost too hot for the older dogs to have a walk even then, so I left them to potter in the garden whilst Mary and I did our power walk circuit .
I've made a pack lunch of fruit salad and ham  and Mary and I will go for a picnic on Colwyn Bay beach later to watch the world go by.
I caught up with Mr A on the way for eggs. ( I will have to call him Mr A as although we have chatted for a few years now, I still dont know his name)  he complemented me on posting the Keala Settle  video yesterday and asked just how he could comment on a post thinking only ' invited' people could say anything.
" you have commentators from all over" he observed " I like the thought of that!" 

So for Mr A, who is not au fait with bloggers and blogging, please tell him where you are in the world!
Ps there is another link below the comments to see the latter comments x

Building

Building on a sense of positivism , I found this video on YouTube.
Not seeing the movie The Greatest Showman yet, I was still aware of this song which has become the film's anthem.
This video is a presentation of the song for the first time with the film's singing cast, and it's a revelation to watch.
The energy, the emotion and the fact Hugh Jackman cries make it a special moment all caught unexpectedly on camera
Enjoy

A Bit Of Colour

Ive just re read this morning's post.

All rather glum ain't it?

So I've now given you all a choice.

Read about a violent, but stimulating movie

Or look at the white and bluebells in the grass verge of the lane

And enjoy Mary biting hell out of Winnie's porky leg

As bulldog absolutely adores a bit of rough and tumble

Life is sweet once we look at the nice things

You Were Never Really Here

The Scottish film maker Lynne Ramsey has produced a violent and nightmare world in her latest feature You Were Never Really Here. It is a world inhabited by Joe ( Joaquin Phoenix) a traumatised veteran haunted by the fleeting memories of childhood abuse and sickening battle field trauma. He is a lumpy , pain filled mess of a man who earns his daily bread by being a hired gun, a hit man, a killer, but he is a killer who comes home to an elderly frail mother ( nicely played by Judith Roberts) a relationship of his  which has retained its warmth and humanity.
Joe has a death wish. We glimpse his inner pain through little moments of despair, a look over the high rail of a railway station, a revisited childhood moment in a closet where a plastic bag over the head shuts out his father's wrath, but the bond with his mother keeps him going, until his latest " hit" drags him into the dark world of child prostitution.
He is hired by a local senator ( Alex Manette) to retrieve his fifteen year old daughter Nina( Ekaterina  Sansonov)from a high class brothel and in the bloodbath that ensues, Joe has a chance for some sort of redemption amid the chaos.
This is a very violent and disturbing film which under Ramsey's flair for storytelling is at times an overwhelming bit of cinema. The cinematography drags you into Joe's haunted world where a sudden sound drags him back into childhood violence or a stranger on the street suddenly morphs into a terrified refugee. After one particularly bloody shoot out Joe lies down next to a dying assassin and holding hands they whisper the words of the song I've never been to me which is playing on the radio.
It's a surreal but terribly poignant little scene the likes of which are peppered unexpectedly throughout the film
Phoenix is impressive as Joe. He dominates the screen time with his overwhelming sadness and when at last there is a small glimmer of hope for him, he breaks your heart with his subtle, pained performance.
This film is not for the faint hearted, but it's worth a look if you are in the mood .9/10

Like Gypsies In The Night

The Prof is away writing for 5 days and I am left to my own devices.
Fat club this morning then lunch with a friend ( home made bread and cheese) - I gave up trying to calculate the points after the first glorious bite !
I was late to lunch because I was talking to a dear friend in a layby off the A55
I say talking........I was actually just listening.
Listening to just how awful chemotherapy can be.
The nurse and friend in me just wanted to hug the pain away but that would not validate just how awful the experience was for my friend to experience.
Listening to each sad, nauseating moment was the order of the day.
The experience needed validation and the description was every bit as poisonous as the toxic chemicals pumped into his body.

No Roots came in the radio after the call had finished..the conversation and song now intertwined forever