Garry Potter And The Same Old Nonsense, David Backhim [the mitten read aloud txt] 📗
- Author: David Backhim
Book online «Garry Potter And The Same Old Nonsense, David Backhim [the mitten read aloud txt] 📗». Author David Backhim
at least he has quite clearly got a personality, unlike many of the other sporting robots who perform their heroics on auto-pilot and are then curiously short-listed for sports ‘personality’ of the year.
It is my humble estimation that a new awards channel should be established so that all those wretched ceremonies where the great and the good congregate in their finest attire, eat a slap-up meal, drink themselves silly, and pay ghastly tributes to their fellow luvvies, can be shunted off to an exclusive pay-per-view channel. A typical day’s broadcasting schedule for an awards channel would look something like this:
00.00-02.00: Cat Burglar of the Year awards
02.00-04.00: National Insomniac awards for 2008
04.00-06.00: The Milkman of the Year review
06.00-08.00: Breakfast Television awards, sponsored by Kellogg’s
08.00-10.00: Wife-beater of the year awards, presented by Jerry Springer
10.00-12.00: Daytime television’s television awards, presented by Kay Adams
12.00-14.00: Spoilsports personality of the year awards
14.00-16.00: Award ceremony of the year awards
16.00-18.00: Richard And Judy’s Celebrity Book of the Year awards
18.00 20.00: Reality TV awards, presented by very special guest, Davina McCall
20.00-22.00: Prime-time tacky TV awards, presented by Graham Norton
22.00-00.00: Comedy (or farcical) awards, presented by Johnathan Woss
GERALD WILEY
The supremely gifted Two Ronnies, like many entertainers, were ably assisted by various comedy scriptwriters, including Terry Jones and Michael Palin of Monty Python fame. One such contributor who made a favourable impression was the writer, Mr. Gerald Wiley. In fact, one of Ronnie Barker’s bosses at the BBC was so fascinated by the material from the reclusive Mr. Wiley that he urged Ronnie Barker to introduce this Gerald Wiley. As a consequence, Ronnie Barker and his superior went out for a meal during which it had been arranged that Mr.Wiley would join them. As the dinner started in the absence of Mr. Wiley, Ronnie Barker was asked what had happened to this missing Wiley character, when the late great bespectacled one confessed to his dining partner, “well, actually, I’m Gerald Wiley!”
THE BEATLES: THE END OF THE DREAM
By 1966, even three long years after the phenomenon of Beatlemania, the Fab Four could still seemingly do no wrong. The Beatles had been awarded MBEs and showered with critical acclaim, not to mention riches accumulated from albums and singles that unerringly ascended to the top of their respective charts. However it could be argued that the growing disharmony that characterised the group’s later years could be traced back to 1966.
True, John Lennon cried for ‘Help’ in 1965 which maybe was a revelation that being a successful Moptop was not all that it was cracked up to be, but it was the following year when the unsinkable Beatles started struggling to keep afloat, though not financially. Instead, 1966 was a turbulent year that persuaded Liverpool’s finest to kick tours and concert appearances into touch – and with good reason. A bad experience in the Philippines where the four cheeky chappies had the ‘audacity’ to snub President Marcos and his shoe fetish wife led to the Beatles fleeing almost in fear for their lives. Worse was to follow in the United States.
Hailed as conquering heroes in February 1964, the Beatles now incurred the wrath of the ‘Bible Belt’ after John Lennon tactlessly, though perhaps accurately, was revealed to have stated in a newspaper interview that “we’re more popular than Jesus”. Those apparent Jesus-followers, the Ku Klux Klan were incensed, while public burnings of Beatles merchandise prompted the Fab Four to decide that their concert at Candlestick Park in San Francisco at the end of August would be their final gig. By a curious coincidence, another questionably fab four, the Sex Pistols, would also play their last concert in San Francisco in January 1978 before a brief reunion occurred two decades later.
John Lennon later confessed that “this was the end really, but I was too scared to walk away.” Having known nothing else but performing and composing music for almost a decade, the Beatles soldiered on, on the understanding that they would devote their energies to the recording studio whilst also fulfilling their contracted film-making obligations. After John returned from his film role in ‘How I Won The War’ and George Harrison returned from India, the Beatles in mid-winter set about the difficult task of finding a suitable follow-up to their ‘Revolver’ album. The result was ‘Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’.
Released in June 1967 and following in the footsteps of the outstanding double A-side of Strawberry Fields Forever coupled with Penny Lane, the Beatles were scaling new peaks. With their new single, ‘All You Need Is Love’ broadcast via the ‘Our World’ television project to a massive global audience, the Liverpool quartet’s plans for world domination had apparently paid off handsomely. However, just as the end of touring had curtailed the group’s functions, they soon found themselves manager-less as their mentor Brian Epstein, recently marginalised by the decision to stop touring, was found dead from an overdose in August. It was a terrible end to a colourful ‘flower power’ summer of love.
The Beatles then made the grave error of persevering without a manager for almost eighteen months, choosing to run their own business affairs. The trouble was that their Apple project that included a boutique as well as signing new artists to their new record label proved that the ensemble were as talented at losing money as they were at accumulating it. The tempestuous year of 1967 also ended on a low note, arising out of a perfectly understandable public reaction to the television broadcast of the short Magical Mystery Tour film. All I will say is that while the accompanying music remained of the highest quality, the movie itself left an awful lot to be desired. It ought to have been ample evidence that the group were not film-makers, but it did not deter them from filming the recording sessions for the ‘Let It Be’ album in early 1969 for a project initially entitled ‘Get Back’.
This particular movie was a courageous if foolish attempt at cinema verite, in which the artists were to be screened warts and all. The problem was that relations had deteriorated to such an extent that the recording sessions were miserable, and even placid George Harrison was moved to tell a domineering Paul McCartney “I’ll play whatever you want me to play. Or I’ll not play at all, if you don’t want me to. Whatever it is that will please you, I will do it.”
Bickering in the recording studios is commonplace in every band, but the sight and news of the loveable Moptops quarrelling was hard for their adoring public to digest. Even easy-going Ringo Starr had cause to walk out on the group during the recording sessions for the ‘White Album’ back in September 1968. Not even enlightenment from their new guru, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, nor the continued success of their latest releases could bring a smile to their faces.
In an act of desperation at their state of misery, the group made a final impromptu public performance on the top of the Apple building in central London, causing the city centre traffic to come to a standstill, while work halted in nearby buildings, as the Beatles’ January 1969 concert reminded the public of their magic. It culminated of course in John stating that “I hope we passed the audition.” They did, but John and Paul failed two different auditions – namely their relationships with Cynthia Lennon and Jane Asher. Not only did the song-writing partners fall out of love almost simultaneously, but remarkably they both got married in quick succession in March 1969, thus providing the lyrics to their next chart-topper, ‘The Ballad Of John And Yoko’.
It was their marriages more than anything that spelt the end of the dream. Such was the intensity of their new passions that it would impact upon the tightly-knit group dynamic. In the case of Paul, he was strongly in favour of Lee Eastman, his wife Linda’s father, taking over the reins as the new group manager, but he was over-ruled by the rest of the band who elected the Rolling Stones’ hard-boiled manager Allen Klein. This decision did nothing for Paul’s affection for the other three. Worse than this, John alienated himself from the others by insisting that his new partner, Yoko Ono, be allowed to trespass the holy of all holies – Beatles recording sessions. Yoko’s presence at the construction of the excellent ‘White Album’, followed by ‘Let It Be’ and finally ‘Abbey Road’ antagonised the others whose collective policy of no wives or girlfriends in the recording studio had been violated.
The cracks were well and truly starting to emerge, yet for all the increased tension, the group continued to enjoy chart-topping success. In fact, it wasn’t until the release of George Harrison’s supremely beautiful ‘Something’ in the autumn of 1969 that the group ironically failed to reach the top three in the British singles chart for the first time in a staggering seven years. The song was issued to support their new album ‘Abbey Road’, which with the assistance of George Martin saw the group bury their differences and complete their swansong in August 1969 without the acrimony that had upset recent recording projects.
Nevertheless, when Paul suggested several weeks later that the group start touring again, John was having none of it. “I think you’re daft”, he reportedly replied. “I want a divorce”, he said, only for Allen Klein and Paul to talk him out of any public announcement. Paul, realising he could no longer cajole an unwilling group, set about recording his debut solo album, and when Ringo was despatched the following spring to urge Paul not to release his solo debut simultaneous to the belated outing of ‘Let It Be’, Paul apparently threw Ringo out of his house. The inevitable happened, though in unforeseen circumstances, when Paul announced the break-up of the Beatles which was all the more ironic since he was least in favour of a split. An incensed John retorted that “Paul hasn’t left the Beatles. I’ve sacked him.” By the end of 1970, Paul felt the need to take his old buddies to the High Court to dissolve the partnership. John in his track called ‘God’ subsequently sang “the dream is over.”
THE STROLLING RUINS IN 1967
1967 was a pivotal year in the evolution of the youth generation’s counter-culture. It incorporated the Monterey pop festival, the hippy pilgrimages to Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco, the ‘summer of love’, ‘flower power’, the emergence of a new guitar hero called Jimi Hendrix, and the explosion of psychedelic music and fashion, while Sergeant Pepper first saw the light of day and The Beatles reminded a worried world that ‘All You Need Is
It is my humble estimation that a new awards channel should be established so that all those wretched ceremonies where the great and the good congregate in their finest attire, eat a slap-up meal, drink themselves silly, and pay ghastly tributes to their fellow luvvies, can be shunted off to an exclusive pay-per-view channel. A typical day’s broadcasting schedule for an awards channel would look something like this:
00.00-02.00: Cat Burglar of the Year awards
02.00-04.00: National Insomniac awards for 2008
04.00-06.00: The Milkman of the Year review
06.00-08.00: Breakfast Television awards, sponsored by Kellogg’s
08.00-10.00: Wife-beater of the year awards, presented by Jerry Springer
10.00-12.00: Daytime television’s television awards, presented by Kay Adams
12.00-14.00: Spoilsports personality of the year awards
14.00-16.00: Award ceremony of the year awards
16.00-18.00: Richard And Judy’s Celebrity Book of the Year awards
18.00 20.00: Reality TV awards, presented by very special guest, Davina McCall
20.00-22.00: Prime-time tacky TV awards, presented by Graham Norton
22.00-00.00: Comedy (or farcical) awards, presented by Johnathan Woss
GERALD WILEY
The supremely gifted Two Ronnies, like many entertainers, were ably assisted by various comedy scriptwriters, including Terry Jones and Michael Palin of Monty Python fame. One such contributor who made a favourable impression was the writer, Mr. Gerald Wiley. In fact, one of Ronnie Barker’s bosses at the BBC was so fascinated by the material from the reclusive Mr. Wiley that he urged Ronnie Barker to introduce this Gerald Wiley. As a consequence, Ronnie Barker and his superior went out for a meal during which it had been arranged that Mr.Wiley would join them. As the dinner started in the absence of Mr. Wiley, Ronnie Barker was asked what had happened to this missing Wiley character, when the late great bespectacled one confessed to his dining partner, “well, actually, I’m Gerald Wiley!”
THE BEATLES: THE END OF THE DREAM
By 1966, even three long years after the phenomenon of Beatlemania, the Fab Four could still seemingly do no wrong. The Beatles had been awarded MBEs and showered with critical acclaim, not to mention riches accumulated from albums and singles that unerringly ascended to the top of their respective charts. However it could be argued that the growing disharmony that characterised the group’s later years could be traced back to 1966.
True, John Lennon cried for ‘Help’ in 1965 which maybe was a revelation that being a successful Moptop was not all that it was cracked up to be, but it was the following year when the unsinkable Beatles started struggling to keep afloat, though not financially. Instead, 1966 was a turbulent year that persuaded Liverpool’s finest to kick tours and concert appearances into touch – and with good reason. A bad experience in the Philippines where the four cheeky chappies had the ‘audacity’ to snub President Marcos and his shoe fetish wife led to the Beatles fleeing almost in fear for their lives. Worse was to follow in the United States.
Hailed as conquering heroes in February 1964, the Beatles now incurred the wrath of the ‘Bible Belt’ after John Lennon tactlessly, though perhaps accurately, was revealed to have stated in a newspaper interview that “we’re more popular than Jesus”. Those apparent Jesus-followers, the Ku Klux Klan were incensed, while public burnings of Beatles merchandise prompted the Fab Four to decide that their concert at Candlestick Park in San Francisco at the end of August would be their final gig. By a curious coincidence, another questionably fab four, the Sex Pistols, would also play their last concert in San Francisco in January 1978 before a brief reunion occurred two decades later.
John Lennon later confessed that “this was the end really, but I was too scared to walk away.” Having known nothing else but performing and composing music for almost a decade, the Beatles soldiered on, on the understanding that they would devote their energies to the recording studio whilst also fulfilling their contracted film-making obligations. After John returned from his film role in ‘How I Won The War’ and George Harrison returned from India, the Beatles in mid-winter set about the difficult task of finding a suitable follow-up to their ‘Revolver’ album. The result was ‘Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’.
Released in June 1967 and following in the footsteps of the outstanding double A-side of Strawberry Fields Forever coupled with Penny Lane, the Beatles were scaling new peaks. With their new single, ‘All You Need Is Love’ broadcast via the ‘Our World’ television project to a massive global audience, the Liverpool quartet’s plans for world domination had apparently paid off handsomely. However, just as the end of touring had curtailed the group’s functions, they soon found themselves manager-less as their mentor Brian Epstein, recently marginalised by the decision to stop touring, was found dead from an overdose in August. It was a terrible end to a colourful ‘flower power’ summer of love.
The Beatles then made the grave error of persevering without a manager for almost eighteen months, choosing to run their own business affairs. The trouble was that their Apple project that included a boutique as well as signing new artists to their new record label proved that the ensemble were as talented at losing money as they were at accumulating it. The tempestuous year of 1967 also ended on a low note, arising out of a perfectly understandable public reaction to the television broadcast of the short Magical Mystery Tour film. All I will say is that while the accompanying music remained of the highest quality, the movie itself left an awful lot to be desired. It ought to have been ample evidence that the group were not film-makers, but it did not deter them from filming the recording sessions for the ‘Let It Be’ album in early 1969 for a project initially entitled ‘Get Back’.
This particular movie was a courageous if foolish attempt at cinema verite, in which the artists were to be screened warts and all. The problem was that relations had deteriorated to such an extent that the recording sessions were miserable, and even placid George Harrison was moved to tell a domineering Paul McCartney “I’ll play whatever you want me to play. Or I’ll not play at all, if you don’t want me to. Whatever it is that will please you, I will do it.”
Bickering in the recording studios is commonplace in every band, but the sight and news of the loveable Moptops quarrelling was hard for their adoring public to digest. Even easy-going Ringo Starr had cause to walk out on the group during the recording sessions for the ‘White Album’ back in September 1968. Not even enlightenment from their new guru, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, nor the continued success of their latest releases could bring a smile to their faces.
In an act of desperation at their state of misery, the group made a final impromptu public performance on the top of the Apple building in central London, causing the city centre traffic to come to a standstill, while work halted in nearby buildings, as the Beatles’ January 1969 concert reminded the public of their magic. It culminated of course in John stating that “I hope we passed the audition.” They did, but John and Paul failed two different auditions – namely their relationships with Cynthia Lennon and Jane Asher. Not only did the song-writing partners fall out of love almost simultaneously, but remarkably they both got married in quick succession in March 1969, thus providing the lyrics to their next chart-topper, ‘The Ballad Of John And Yoko’.
It was their marriages more than anything that spelt the end of the dream. Such was the intensity of their new passions that it would impact upon the tightly-knit group dynamic. In the case of Paul, he was strongly in favour of Lee Eastman, his wife Linda’s father, taking over the reins as the new group manager, but he was over-ruled by the rest of the band who elected the Rolling Stones’ hard-boiled manager Allen Klein. This decision did nothing for Paul’s affection for the other three. Worse than this, John alienated himself from the others by insisting that his new partner, Yoko Ono, be allowed to trespass the holy of all holies – Beatles recording sessions. Yoko’s presence at the construction of the excellent ‘White Album’, followed by ‘Let It Be’ and finally ‘Abbey Road’ antagonised the others whose collective policy of no wives or girlfriends in the recording studio had been violated.
The cracks were well and truly starting to emerge, yet for all the increased tension, the group continued to enjoy chart-topping success. In fact, it wasn’t until the release of George Harrison’s supremely beautiful ‘Something’ in the autumn of 1969 that the group ironically failed to reach the top three in the British singles chart for the first time in a staggering seven years. The song was issued to support their new album ‘Abbey Road’, which with the assistance of George Martin saw the group bury their differences and complete their swansong in August 1969 without the acrimony that had upset recent recording projects.
Nevertheless, when Paul suggested several weeks later that the group start touring again, John was having none of it. “I think you’re daft”, he reportedly replied. “I want a divorce”, he said, only for Allen Klein and Paul to talk him out of any public announcement. Paul, realising he could no longer cajole an unwilling group, set about recording his debut solo album, and when Ringo was despatched the following spring to urge Paul not to release his solo debut simultaneous to the belated outing of ‘Let It Be’, Paul apparently threw Ringo out of his house. The inevitable happened, though in unforeseen circumstances, when Paul announced the break-up of the Beatles which was all the more ironic since he was least in favour of a split. An incensed John retorted that “Paul hasn’t left the Beatles. I’ve sacked him.” By the end of 1970, Paul felt the need to take his old buddies to the High Court to dissolve the partnership. John in his track called ‘God’ subsequently sang “the dream is over.”
THE STROLLING RUINS IN 1967
1967 was a pivotal year in the evolution of the youth generation’s counter-culture. It incorporated the Monterey pop festival, the hippy pilgrimages to Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco, the ‘summer of love’, ‘flower power’, the emergence of a new guitar hero called Jimi Hendrix, and the explosion of psychedelic music and fashion, while Sergeant Pepper first saw the light of day and The Beatles reminded a worried world that ‘All You Need Is
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