Archive for the Category "Anecdotes"
Following my Mashed Potato Challenge with the Hairy Bikers, someone just reminded me of one of the first songs we (The Exectutioners) did back in the late sixties.
Predictably we were often booked as support band to the Undertakers – and at the Iron Door Club too.
This clip really takes me back.
Spot the wally!
The blue sky as I queued to board the Ferris Wheel disappeared under a veil of cloud the minute the pod door shut. Still it was nice to see the city from a viewpoint that will disappear at the end of this month when the wheel comes down.
I would love to do another few flights, at different times f day and with better lighting conditions. Sadly, time, or playtime at least, is going to be scarce in the next week and a half. If nothing else, I have these shots to document the fact the wheel was there and I was one of its passengers.
Other than a little tonal control, these are unedited images. In a day or two I will replace them with the ‘finished’ versions, so please bookmark and call back.
Click here for my gallery of shots of the wheel at night.
Chris Birchall (The Hairy Photographer) is forever being mistaken for TV chef Dave Myres of The Hairy Bikers. When the opportunity arose, one day last September, he visited one of the recipe fairs where they were filming for the 2010 series “Mums Know Best”.
The Hairy Bikers threw down the gauntlet oven glove and bade him to come forth and take part in the Mashed Potato Challenge. So he did …and came fifth!
Mashing implements at ten paces. Let the challenge begin…
(This episode of Mums Know Best was filmed in Skipton, West Yorkshire and was shown on BBC2 on January 19th 2010.)
Click to view full size
The scenery was nicely painted.
Hey… maybe I should quit now while I’m ahead. End on a positive note, as it were? Just go to bed.
But I can’t. The sound of Theatr Clwyd’s Rock ‘n Roll Panto is still ringing grating in my head.
They tried their best.
Well actually… No. They didn’t.
It was as if they had given up. Just going through the motions. It was as if they’d resigned themselves to the fact it might have been a half decent production if only the musical director had been a little bit musical and the sound engineer knew how to engineer sound. It was as if they thought ‘what the hell, it’s panto – you can get away with murder’
No! Come on you people! This was the annual Rock ‘n Roll Panto. And we were looking forward to it!
It’s not that they were ‘bad’ singers. Just that they were not that good. Actually… there were some bad singers: Robin Hood… Meatloaf you ain’t!
It’s not that they were ‘bad’ musicians. They were… erm… reasonably competent musicians. Individually. But that was it! They stood on stage, eyes fixed upon their fretting hand, playing their guitars. They were not… ‘together‘. There was no hint of the passion that is a prerequisite of performing Rock and Roll.
It was messy. They just didn’t gel.
The sound really was awful. There was no ‘wall of sound’ – just several bricks that happened to emanating sound. At the same time. Almost.
Their only saving grace was the finale. Had these boys and girls put as much energy and enthusiasm into the whole show, much of the rest of their failings may well have been forgiven.
During the speaking parts they where not amplified at all (even though some were wearing cheek mics). Did I say speaking parts? I meant shouting parts.
And the singing… Well what can I say? When someone has a screechy piercing voice, max treble and no bass is not the way to ‘EQ’.
Choreography? What choreography? I’ve seen more synchronicity in a primary school play!
Even the writers got it wrong. This script didn’t know whether its audience was under ten or over twenty (let’s face it ‘teenagers’ wouldn’t be seen dead at a pantomime anyway!) So the writers erred on the side of safety – and got it all wrong. A Rock ‘n Roll Panto should have a mix of slapstick and innuendo. By innuendo, I mean the sort of double entendre that can go straight over the heads of the adults whilst the youngsters get the (dirty) joke. And yes – I did phrase that the right way around! 
Was it funny? Not really.
“We’ve got the latest games” …he places a cardboard box on the floor and stamps on it… “It’s an X-Box” If I tell you that was the second funniest line of the whole show you get my meaning. The funniest line was when he then placed one foot on the flattened cardboard, spun around and declared: “It’s an X-Box 360″.
Yes, I visibly cringed.
Since returning home I found myself thinking: “Is it me? Have I set too high a standard after watching last week’s excellent Rock ‘n Roll Panto at the Everyman? Is it because I have seen so many top notch comedies and musicals in Liverpool during the course of 2009?
Sadly, the answer is no. The previous three Theatr Clwyd R&R Pantos were excellent, completely overshadowing tonight’s meagre offering. Even sadder is the fact it was produced by much the same team.
So you will not be surprised that I cannot bring myself to recommend it or even suggest you give it the benefit of the doubt.
3/10 .
Must do better next year.
Can you remember what you were doing 29 years ago today?
I can. It was my day off. I dragged myself out of bed mid morning, turned the kettle on and then the radio.
The kettle boiled dry.
Shocked by the news, I never got my morning cuppa. I sat all day, stunned, as a crackly medium wave Radio City struggled to reach over the Welsh mountains. They played Beatles tracks all day back-to-back.
John Lennon had been shot.
The following day I was back at work for the Evening Leader newspaper. Myself and feature-writer Carol James were the only newspaper people John’s ex wife Cynthia would talk to at that sad time. We interviewed and photographed her at her home in Castle Street, Ruthin, whilst the photographers from the Nationals were dropping mind-blowingly huge cheques through her letterbox desperate for exclusive pictures and an interview. She tore them all up.
We got through the door because we were journos she could trust to be sensitive and not sensationalise how she felt about John’s death, having previously done a feature about her charity work a few months earlier and prior to that a promotinal peice about her book A Twist of Lennon.
For me, the whole thing was made far more poignant since I’d been part of the 60s/70s music scene myself.
My band, The Executioners, had graduated from the local village hall dances, through the Chester and Deeside working-mens clubs, to earn our place on the Mersey Beat scene. We played the Cavern, The Iron Door, Tower Ballroom New Brighton and many other Merseyside Clubs, alongside the likes of the Searchers, The Big Three, Freddie Starr and the Midnighters, The Black Abbots, and the Undertakers.
Sadly, we were never on the same bill as The Beatles, so I never got to meet John Lennon.
It was spooky when some time later, I photographed Julian Lennon as a young man because at that time he was just like his father during the Cavern years.
Today, 29 years after his untimely death, John’s music is as fresh and meaningful as back then. It will live on forever. But I often wonder what he would be doing now had December 8th 1980 never happened.
A bit of Twitter banter between the Hairy Photographer and the not-so-hairy Eamonn Holmes this morning.
Glad I was able to help him sort out such an important life-changing dilemma!!
(In case you’re not familiar with the Twitter feed – the conversation starts at the bottom)
Photographer unknown
If this is a copyrighted image and you are the photographer, I do hope you dont mind us sharing this image. Please get in touch via the comments box and we will either take the iamge down or give you a credit and a link back to your own web site.
Simple fare to fuel one’s appetite for Kylie and The Brit Awards and… erm… did I mention Kylie?
Half a dozen Asparagus (Kylie likes them!) and a fist full of sprouts (not quite the same now the frost isn’t on the crops).
Courgette, field mushrooms and sliced tofu steaks marinaded using my own (and Kylie’s) secret recipe.
Inch-thick rounds of butternut and chunks of parsnip doused in Extra Virgin Kylie Olive Oil.
On the PlateAll served up to eat in front of the telly as I settle down to watch the Brit Awards alongside my own special “Kylie”.
Okay, so she can’t sing for toffee (or cream eggs) but she’s got everything else the real Kylie’s got – and more besides!
XXX
We’ve had many a bum deal at Bum Bargains (you know where I’m talking about). We’ve had “Puracell” batteries that leaked acid under the Christmas tree, a festive hat that said “MERRY CHISTMAS” (Rs are in short supply when there’s an R in the month) and a friend of ours even had a fish die after being fed on (supposedly) brand named fish food.
Having vowed never to darken their door again, Jayne sheepishly admitted she had already become the proud owner of a box of classy looking black and white, velvet finish Christmas Crackers from that very store!!
We nervously ate our Christmas dinner, knowing that the inevitable was about to happen. Yes – before the Chirstmas pud could be served we would have to go through the annual ritual of pulling the Christmas Cracker. Only this year there was the added anticipation of wondering if we would manage to live though the ordeal!
The crackers certainly looked good for £3.99. But that didn’t stop Jayne and I testing the first one wearing an oven glove each and face masks before risking them on the rest of the family.
As pulls go it was fairly uneventful. There was the obligatory “crack” – and of course Jayne won (Jayne always wins 
)
Out popped at ball point pen! The remaining five crackers were (somewhat reluctantly) pulled and Jayne’s booty mounted: Headphones, a torch (that worked!), a set of make-up brushes and a corkscrew.
Not a flimsy plastic car/whistle/spinning top in sight! There were paper hats, of course, and the usual silly joke. But even these were not as bad as usual. In fact – amongst them was one of the best I’ve ever seen in a cracker (maybe the Shiraz helped).
It went:
“What do you call a chicken in a shell suit?”
Answer: “An egg”
Yes, my lovely wife sure knows how to make an aging would-be (some would say “has-been”) rock star happy.
Seriously. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday treat (at least not one I could write about here ).
My lady and I drove to the city that I’ve fallen in love with all over again, through Hunt’s Cross, which held so many fond childhood memories, past the John Lennon Airport with it’s huge sign aptly subtitled “above us only sky” and on to Speak. To be specific – Speak Hall – set in its beautifully manicured gardens on the banks of the Mersey.
But today we hadn’t come to partake of this magnificent Tudor mansion’s historical charms. We were a mere stone’s throw from the place that was the birth of the Mersey Sound and we were here to take a magical mystery tour to Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields and to the childhood homes of two of the twentieth century’s most prolific songwriters, name of John and Paul.
We needn’t have arrived early – but I’m glad we did. The tours were running late due to technical problems, so we had time for a nosh in Speak Hall’s restaurant. Nothing posh, but bloody good – and precisely what you’d have been eating in Liverpool during olden times.
The main course choices were Scouse Pie and Pan Haggerty. Being veggies we chose the latter and it was the nicest cheese, onion and potato pie I’ve tasted. The Wet Nelly was a new one to me, a citrus sweet northern version of one of the traditional English bread-based puddings. Hmm delicious. And all washed down with a bottle of Curiosity Cola. Give the National Trust their due… when they take you back in time, they do it in style.
Fully sated we boarded the mini bus to John Lennon’s former home, Mendips, on Menlove Avenue, where an extremely knowledgeable custodian gave us a full and frank potted history of when John met Paul, and how they used to practise their faltering early compositions in the tiny front room. The house had been restored to its former glory after being donated to the trust by Yoko Ono in 2003. When it first opened to the public, Paul McCartney had apparently told the custodian they used to practice singing in the front inner porch because of the fantastic acoustics. We each of us today took the opportunity to follow suit.
Did I mention Sir Paul? Next stop was the McCartney’s childhood home, 20 Forthlin Road, a couple of miles away in a less salubrious area of Allerton. And having joked en-route about expecting Sir Paul to have a nice cup of tea ready for us, I alighted from the mini bus to be greeted by… Paul McCartney!
Okay, after rubbing my eyes and taking a long hard look, I realised it wasn’t actually Sir Paul himself – but I tell you, had John Halliday not been gainfully employed as custodian of 20 Forthlin Road, he could make a very good living as a Beatle look-alike. No only that, he had the same mannerisms and even sounded like his multi-millionaire alter ego.
The former factory worker informed me he still couldn’t believe his luck being paid to live the house of his childhood hero and spend his days talking Beatle talk.
The framed photographs taken by Paul’s younger brother Mike McCartney, vouched for the authenticity of the trust’s restoration program.
Jayne even got to sit upon the former Beatle’s throne, having missed the sign for the new visitor’s toilet on the next outhouse along. When she emerged, to the surprise of one elderly lady queueing for the real toilet, Jayne told her she hoped she hadn’t flushed away any historical …erm …deposits, the poor lady couldn’t stop laughing at the thought and almost wet herself on the spot! She was still giggling as we all got back on the mini bus for the return trip.
It was a lovely day. It brought back fond memories of the time I was an Executioner, tinged with a little regret that I never actually met the Beatles when I played the Cavern, the Iron Door and other landmark venues back in the sixties. Although I didn’t appreciate the significance at the time, I am so glad I lived through that area. Jayne, bless her, missed it of course. She was knocking out a beat with a rattle on the side of her pram in Hyton whilst I was a mile or two down the road rattling the Cavern’s foundations with my bass guitar.
Happy days!
The Beatles tours are run from Speak Hall Wednesday to Sunday and Bank Holidays from April to October,
at 10.00, 10.50, 14.30 and 15.20. Please note there is no direct access to these properties by car or foot. You can book tickets via www.nationaltrust.org.uk/beatles or telephone 0151 427 7231.
Prices (2008): Adult £15.00, Child £3.00, NT Member Adult £7.00
It really is a great day out!
I’m not too sure that my lovely wife Jayne would approve but I must admit that under normal circumstances I would quite happily fantasise over the prospect of sharing a sauna with her and Kylie.
Last night was no kinky threesome however. There were at least 18,998 other people crammed in there with us and the “sauna” in question was the much overrated Manchester Evening News Arena.
Sadly, the Kylie X 2008 concert was completely ruined by the venue’s oppressive heat and diabolical sound quality.
Don’t get me wrong, what her lungs produced was pure Kylie – and what they were wrapped in was, of course, as delightful as ever. But oh dear… her much heralded new band sounded like a recently-formed group of teenage wannabes bent on blowing out the windows at their local village hall!
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not averse to loud music per se, but what they delivered last night was a distorted mess that completely drowned out the voice of our diminutive, delectable iconic Aussie heartthrob.
Kylie darling: please sack your sound engineer. We really had no way of telling how good your band was through all the distortion
And my message to the MEN Arena: (definitely NO darling of mine): Sort out your acoustics …and your air-conditioning …and your seating …and your car parking and…
Better still, knock the whole place down and build a proper arena geared more to customer experience than money-grabbing sardine-packing. And as far as the over-steep upper tiers are concerned, the only customers who might actually enjoy the experience of scaling these would be seasoned rock climbers!
The MEN should take a lead from Liverpool’s excellent new Echo Arena and Glasgow’s equally brilliant SECC.
Biggest doesn’t necessarily mean Best!
EDIT: check out the comments…
Everybody seems to be sixty these days!
Hah! ten years ago, I recall saying the same thing about people being fifty. That’s the way it goes, I suppose. You buy a Volkswagen and everybody seems to be driving one!
Anyway, my mate Patrick earned his bus pass and B&Q discount card this weekend. He’d had fifty guests at his fiftieth and was going to attempt to gather sixty for this do, then seventy in ten years time, and so on. Until, that is, I reminded him of the principles of the inverse square law!
All in all, we had a great day at the Faleur’s. Great company. Lovely food. and the weather even gave us a break just long enough to enjoy the magnificent buffet lunch in the garden.
Photoshop came to the rescue as far as his birthday card was concerned (out with last week’s sexagenarian and in with this week’s) and for his birthday present we went to Zimmers R Us. No-one, but no-one should ever expect a “normal” birthday present from the Birchalls!
Thanks for a great day Patrick & Liz. We’re off now to spend the evening with a forty year old who’s very close to my heart – name of Kylie
PS: Did I mention that Patrick is a pretty mean photographer? Check out his website
Bringing up the LL15 1BE location on Multi Map reveals that we are being watched!
The aerial image (courtesy of Microsoft Earth) shows the car park and roundabout top right, with Market Street running down to centre bottom.
Our studio is marked with the red arrow – and there, centre left, just next door to the Ambulance Station in School Lane, is a chisel-featured bloke keeping a beady eye on us!
My mate Mike is sixty today! ~~ “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKE”!
As another poor photographer, he’ll understand that I couldn’t afford to buy him a card. In any case, they simply don’t do one that says: “Congratulations – you can now get an extra 10% at B&Q” !!
I knew I had a shot of him taken at my daughter’s wedding last year – so it was into Photoshop’s Extract filter to remove all evidence of the camera and tripod he was operating and of course, the background.
My own B&Q discount card (yes yes, I’m ancient too!) was scanned and added to the picture. Luckily, only a little bit of pixel pushing was required to make it look like he was actually gripping the card, and little drop-shadow under the hand for added realism.
Rather than drive to our nearest B&Q, a Google Image Search turned up a suitable new background. Originally used to promote a new B&Q store, the shot was too sharp. So I duplicated the layer and applied a decent amount of Gaussian blur. Then a layer mask was added and filled with a black to white gradient to blend the sharp image with the blurred version to realistically impart the shallow depth of focus you would expect in this type of scene. Little touches like this all help to avoid the “cardboard cut-out” effect when replacing a background.
The “eye candy” picture is a publicity shot of American actress Molly Simm sitting in a rusty old wheelbarrow. Someone had made this into a mock B&Q advert, which has been kicking around the Internet for the past year or so.
A little added wording and “voila” – the card was complete. All in less than an hour.
Hmmm…. Come to think of it: That was an hour of “work” time, so all in all, it turned out to be quite an expensive Birthday card!
I hope the old fart appreciates it!
As a former press photographer I am quite used to seeing pictures designed to shock, to invoke thought, to stir up the emotions. Heck! I used to take them!
As a portrait photographer, however, I find myself judging pictures on their artistic merit, on their technical competence, and on whether or not they have “worked” as a portrait. I ask myself: if I were the parent of a child in the portrait – would I be proud to hang it on the wall?
These two portraits were on the website of an American family portrait photographer. Now I should point out that prior to seeing these two images, I was pretty impressed with the standard of this person’s portrait photography. These, however, left me feeling very uncomfortable indeed. Maybe it’s a Feng Shui thing? I don’t know. I just know I don’t like them. Ironic really, when you consider that as a press photographer ANY picture that made you look twice, or that made you think about the subject, would have been adjudged a roaring success.
These shots give me the same feeling one gets when standing close to the edge of a very steep drop. Furthermore, do they give out the message to any other kids who might view them – especially if they were on the wall of a family friend – that it is okay to go and play down on the railway tracks?
So what do you reckon? Am I getting carried away? What do YOU think? Use the Comments link at the bottom of the page – That’s what it’s there for!