Sunday 22nd July

Sunday morning dawned clear and sunny and we (all three) headed off in the Guilietta over the cairn to a Banchory Alfa Owner Club breakfast - the first one this year!  A nice catch up and an ok. (no more) breakfast at the Raemoir House Hotel.   What was nice was to catch up with our eldest, Matthew, who had returned late the previous night from his own holiday in Italy - Suitably bronzed and relaxed I did avoid the embarrassment (to him) of a big public hug.  It seems to get harder to reach and I don't think he is still growing...

We gratefully accepted some small gifts – olive oil for me, Whisky for Mike and an apron with the statue of David (naked as a jaybird) on front for Andrew. 

During the course of breakfast my mobile rang, although it being such an unusual event it took another guest to point it out to me.  I missed the call, which was from Mike's brother Chris. Worrying, since we were shortly to depart for a holiday on his yacht!  Calling him back worries were allayed. It was to give notification that he was now officially 'Grandpa Shea'.  It took a few moments and a furrowed brow but then the penny dropped.  His adn Susan's oldest son Marc, a mere babe in arms at our own wedding 29 years ago, and his Columbian wife Jenny were delivered of a baby daughter some time early that morning.   Cheers!

We dash home to lock up, pack car and head towards Edinburgh airport, arriving nice and early - depositing bags for the first step to Gatwick where we will overnight.  We spot Ali a couple of places ahead in the bag drop queue and so we are united.  Some browsing but no suitable duty free for EU.  Dash it.  Andrew is hungry so we take a seat in a Wetherspoons where he downs a portion of Fish and Chips.  Hollow legs that one! We have purchased some sushi and a crayfish salad to consume on plane or in Premier Inn Gatwick. 

Plane was on time and off we set, Ali having booked separately was at the back (his safety choice) whilst we were mid plane and I bagged window seat.   Our hotel was located within the perimeters of the airport, just two minutes walk from the arrivals exit but check in, two floors up, was heaving.   Much of this because a whole party of 4, 5, 6, 8, 20 feel the need to hover by the desks rather than clear the way and leave one person to do the bookings.  Human herding at its worst.

At least one of the parcels of parts (for broken heat exchanger on boat) had been delivered and being light and small was slipped into main bags before they were taken back across the road and checked in for next morning’s early flight to Split.   Mission accomplished.  

The lifts to rooms provide an adventure of their own.  Somewhere on a sign inside the lift door it tells you to flash your room key card in front of a sensor before pressing required floor.  If you don’t do this it does not recognise the request.   Which is fine unless the panel with sensor and sign are obscured by people and bags!!!  Several trips up and down 7 floors later...

Although we had requested 2 twin rooms both were doubles so another trip to do battle in reception to request spare linen for the couch bed.   This was easier than expected and delivered while we repaired to the bar.

Settled in we headed down to bar for drink and Ali ordered a Pizza.  Something like one hour later none had appeared.  Bit overstressed in the kitchen apparently because of a full restaurant.  So what happened to a bit of communication to keep the customer informed?  Or even stopping taking orders they could not fulfil?   Grrr.   Anyway, an early night is called for; the alarm set at 04:00.  Aaargh.

Pleasantly surprised that despite being under flight path and next to major roads, nose disturbance was minimal. 

Of course as is too often the case, when morning timings are critical, sleep does not come easy or stay for long.  I was in the shower by 03:45. And we were at the airport at 05:00.  All smooth apart from Mike forgetting his phone in breast pocket of shirt.  He got frisked as punishment (ooh err Mrs).

No time for breakfast and all venues already heaving.  You have to wonder what time those who got places arrived at the airport.  No time either for duty free browsing as flight was called much earlier than expected.  All good as we got off on time and had a really nice (fresh) crew and chatty captain and first mate.   Next stop – Split, Croatia and the beautiful Oyster Yacht Magrathea and her crew. 

*****     ***** 

Holiday Blog 2013

Saturday 21^st July

I am not sure exactly when I might say that this holiday began.  I would like to think it was late this afternoon when we have finished packing and enjoyed a delicious fillet steak supper.  Then Mike and I headed into town to watch the National Theatre Live link to Belmont Cinema of Kenneth Branagh’s first foray into Shakespeare for 11 years.  Stunning.  It was set in a church in Manchester where the main action took place down the main aisle with a small ish audience seated facing in on both sides.  A dais at the altar end sufficed as interior scenes but other than that props and scenery were relatively minimal.   Anyway, lest this turn into a full scale review, it was stunning.    

Not forgetting that I spent a fine couple of hours admiring some of the gardens open in our little village earlier on.  From an almost self sufficient home allotment to a wonderland of fine trees, paths, surprising twists and turns and a tumultuous riot of individual loved plants and flowers and the biggest surprise – a miniature railway.  Perhaps next year... what would my special selling point be?

Crime and Punishment

The small stuff I am currently sweating:

Eurovision

Why?

Co-op checkout offers.

I had always thought that Co-op was one of the more socially and environmentally aware supermarkets.  So why then, do they insist on ‘offering’ foreign strawberries and 200g chocolate bars (that’s approx  525 cals and 29g of fat) for £1 at the check out and actually ASK you if you want one.   Not least this goes against efforts to improve eating habits/prevent obesity; but also clutters up the counter and puts the busy shopper at risk of shoplifting (ie absent -mindedly put into bags with purchases).  Surely it must annoy staff too?  More on food lifestyles later.

Murder of policemen – new ‘Life means Life’ tariff.

Sorry, I simply don’t get the need for a separate tariff for one specific victim group.  If life means life – surely that should so be regardless of the age, gender, occupation or anything else of the victim. 

Prison is about three things isn't it?

• ·         Punishment -  So how long a perpetrator is incarcerated, and what restrictions (loss of privilege etc) are placed upon them  should have a much tighter range.  And it should be adhered to by judges.  If there are extenuating circumstances, these should be clear and stated  and likely to have the charge reduced to Manslaughter.  Personally, I am not sure that ‘Life’ is a cure all sentence for many murders.  It weights too heavily on the punishment angle. 
• ·         Protection – so protect the public for as long as the person is deemed a threat – no longer.  It costs way too much.
• ·         Rehabilitation – key to reducing prison population and re-offending.  It costs but should be managed in a  way that cutting length of sentence and re-offending offers a longer term saving.

My ‘Crime and Punishment’ manifesto includes:

Criminals who do not pose a threat (such as wayward MPs, one off fraudsters and various grades of low  level crime) should be put on probation and community service or low paid labour/training programmes in order to ameliorate some of the costs of their misdemeanours as well as serve as rehabilitation and mentoring.  For drug related crime (or drug addicted criminals) a properly thought through rehab programme.

More to the point, any reform of Police and Prison service, along with Health, Social welfare, Education etc should be taken out of direct government control and placed under a cross party group for review, implementation and on going management. 

The Political System and the BIG issues.

The BIG issues facing modern life and politics will take so long (two generations or more) that no single government can hope to change them slowly enough with the public crying for quick fixes and voting them out as soon as they falter.  This swings and roundabouts system needs to be remodelled. 

The organisations of national bodies are far too large and unwieldy to offer the level playing field, so beloved of MPs of all colours, that actually IS fair to all.  Fairness comes in degrees and is influenced by local deviations from the baseline.   More on playing fields in forthcoming messages.

That’s all for now folks.   Lots of thoughts scratching to get out.  Watch this space.
p.s.  Apols for formatting errors - just getting to grip.

A New Start

Hello friends

I have decided to try and revive my Blog (The Philosopher's Tone): partly as a writing exercise; partly to encourage completion of anything and partly because I like thinking and I like thinking out loud (aka talking) even if I am the only one listening.

I have some work to do on organisation of this blog format, especially picture size - haha - and adding interesting links and layout.  Bear with me.

The blog is open for comments and feedback and I look forward to hearing from friends and their friends etc.  

So if you receive a link to my blog I would be  happy to hear from you.

Carol 

GUY AND DOLLS - The Apollo Players, Montrose

A review 

Last night the Apollo Players opened in Guys and Dolls at the Town Hall in Montrose.   Under the guiding baton of Derek Noble the orchestra struck up the overture in a tradition that combined swing and Jazz and took us back to the New York of 1950s

The story?  Well, it’s light and easy to digest, a little dated and simple, implausible in the main – but hey, that’s Entertainment.  And entertaining it certainly is.  But essentially, the clue is in the title.   Guys and Dolls is a musical set in New York in 1950 but based on stories written by Damon Runyon in the 1920s.  Think West Side story without the angst, guns or knives, and with added wry humour and . . .   ok, well it’s not really much like West Side Story at all.  Perhaps it is more Keystone Cops meet Laurel and Hardy.  

(Aside:  This show was famously made into a film in 1955 starring a very young Marlon Brando, a very beautiful Jean Simmons and the already elder statesmanlike Frank Sinatra and has been revived on stage, notably at the National Theatre in London many times over the years with a raft of top names.)

The guys are mostly rotten gamblers and their costumes were simply stunning.   Do not adjust the vertical hold!  The accents were one of the most surprisingly good things about this production.   I could almost taste the cheesecake from Mindy’s (based on the real life wonderful Lindy’s) served by native Noo Yoikers.

Leaving aside the double trouble of the two lead couples for a moment, I don’t think I could fault the acting, singing and dancing of the male ensemble if it were on the West End stage.  That is no criticism of the ladies (of which more later) – but perhaps an observation that their costumes were so eye catching one was drawn to watch more closely.

To a man, once into their stride in the opening number our gang of lovable rogues played their hearts out to the audience and to their strengths, some of which were kept under wraps (definitely of the bread variety) until almost the end; watch out for Nicely Nicely when he gets his moment.   The lights followed them and brought each character alive as the story progressed.   Moment of the night for me was the sartorially (and deliberately) discordant number set in the mission hall towards the end of the second half pretty well summed up the whole of the show’s narrative.

Our dolls were divided between the stalwart ladies of the Salvation Army whose announcing theme was the mildly correctional anthem ‘Follow the Fold’.   Each of the ladies carried  their own individual character which belied the uniformity of their, err, uniforms.  

Secondly, a troupe of dancing girls with probably the greatest number of costume changes and occasional partial disrobings – but nothing that would shock grandma!   They took us with ne’er a hitch from a down at heel New York nightclub to the beaches of Havana and brought the rhythms alive with their dancing and singing and wowed with their costumes that were bang on trend as well as reflecting the immediate post war re energised fashions.

Of course, the main narrative is the love story developing between two couples:  two of our gamblers anonymous gentlemen with a Salvation Army officer and a small time show girl.   Here the audience were treated to four really strong and believable characterisations with hidden depths being sought and found.   Nathan Detroit let slip a charming vulnerability under the dressing of a card sharp’s suit; Sky Masterson gave us a tantalising glimpse of little boy lost under that successful bad boy exterior;  Miss Adelaide brought a sense of tender inevitability and enduring courage  packaged in a bubbly survivors exterior and Sarah Browne tugged at the heart strings as the lost-in- love good girl struggling with unfamiliar desires.  All four of the actors had wonderful voices, well coached and balanced that blended beautifully in their set pieces. 

So, can true love overcome differences and change people from within?    Get a ticket and find out for yourself.

A stellar cast brought the witty script and somewhat flawed (aren’t they all?) fairy story to life.  Yes, there were weak moments, but they were only moments.   One slightly off timed starting note; a dress train stepped on causing a log jam.   But the cast smiled and carried on; their own obvious enjoyment of the night could not help but rub off on the audience.

Well done  Mr & Mrs Noble, the management,  players, orchestra  and backroom boys and girls looking after front of house, lighting, costumes, make up, sound and doubtless other behind the scenes facets even I am not aware of.    Bravo.  Take another bow.     A wonderful event from an organisation that is far from Am Dram.    I end by entreating all readers to find time to support such ventures, for of opportunities such as, dreams are made.

p.s. Apologies for not naming names but I do not have a programme to hand and omission or error would be a sin.   You know who you are – all of you. 

http://www.apollomontrose.co.uk/