My Eldorado, a gig worth waiting for

I first started listening to the artist I saw tonight when I was around 14, over 35 years ago!  

Thirty five years is a long time. 

Listening to a band on, first albums and singles, then CD and then digitally I did find myself wondering if these musical masterpieces could ever be successfully created "live" 

Sure there had been concerts, I had seen the videos, yes good old VHS, but I wasn't convinced of the quality, I put it down to the tape. 

They used to dazzle audiences with their light show and the spaceship metamorphosing into the stage, people would go in their thousands to witness it. 

The music was of course splendid but there was more than a hint of backing tracks to fill the sound, even with the extraordinary talent on show.

Then in the early 80s it was all over. 

Group fragmenting and the driving force, songwriter, vocalist diverting into his other talent, producing. 

It seemed it was the end of the universe for the Electric Light Orchestra. 

I had resigned myself to once again being born at the wrong time to see one of my heroes, born too late for The Beatles and just too late for ELO.

In later years I have seen my major musical heroes, Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder with nights never to be forgotten, but I always felt there was a gap, one hero who was missing from my I was there list. I had, as stated given up. 

Then out of blue, there came odd TV and radio appearances, a little push, well actually a big push from Chris Evans, a headline concert in Hyde Park and a new album, then...the announcement we had waited for, yes! A tour! 

My son brilliantly applying for tickets and getting the news that we had them, Liverpool, April 5th 

 

After 35 years the wait would be over!!! 

Then, once the excitement had subsided a little, my thoughts sprung back to the subject of my opening paragraph or two, what if? 

What if, the genius that is Jeff Lynne couldn't quite pull it off, what if the expectations of all who has waited all these years couldn't be met, what if the live versions of these classic tunes couldn't do any justice to the original perfect recordings? Just what if? 

Well I had no need to worry, and I should apologise for even thinking it couldn't be done for it only took the opening 35 seconds of the show to dispel any fears still lingering. 

The light show the use of theatre and film still there in abundance and then, the master went to work, so confident was he he began his first concert for around 30 years with an album track and wow! That was it the whole arena was hooked, the few bars of Tightrope, the opening song from the 1976 magnum opus A New World Record, was all that was needed to have you spellbound for as long as Mr Lynne wanted to keep you there for. 

This unassuming, understated underrated rock star, and I do t use that term loosely for that is what he is, held the packed hous in the palm of his hand. 

Classic song after classic song followed and he was exploring his huge catalouge of material the utter spine tingling class of Showdown and I Cant Get It Out Of My Head sitting alongside new songs including the goosebump inducing When I Was A Boy from his latest collection. 

Sitting in between these were more album tracks such as Stepping Out , wonderful and surprise choices such as the mind blowing Wild West Hero, get on your feet numbers like Don't Bring Me Down, Shine A Little Love Rockaria and my personal favourite Turn To Stone, other hits included were Telephone Line in which the audience showed why they were perhaps not on the stage, but boy did they sing with everything they had! Evil Woman, Sweet Talking Woman, All Over The World, the list goes on. 

Ending of course with Mr Blue Sky, the iconic optimistic masterpiece which everyone stood up for and sang every line, la la'd every la la and hummed every violin note, even mouthing the end line of Please turn me over with Richard Tandy the other original ELO member still present and still making the keyboard talk. 

As the violins faded the noise from the arena erupted and the acclaim was genuine and heartfelt, the wait had been worth it. More they cried more! And after a few minutes they duly obliged with the ultimate classical rocker Roll Over Beethoven, wow what a version, classical and rock merging into one glorious uplifting piece. 

All to briefly, it was over, more acclaim more appreciative noise we all wanted more! 

Enjoy this concert all over the world as the first night in Liverpool was something special and made this 51 year old feel like he had swapped the numbers of his age around. 

Ch ch changes

For the first time in a long time I have got the opportunity to sit down with a coffee and catch up with things.

My old routine has gone out of the window since my last ramble which was sometime in the dim and distant past. 

Since I posted those instantly forgettable words a great deal has changed, both personally and in the world in general. 

It wasn't an accident that I used the word routine, see, this isn't just thrown together! As routine is something I have had a whole new insight into. 

I have become a commuter and though I have driven to work for years this is the first time I have let the train take the strain every day. That is a new routine in itself, same train same times etc etc. But I have been surprised at how much routine there is out there and whether people realise their own routines. 

Some examples. 

Obviously people catch the train at the same station each day, duh talk about the bleeding obvious, but, the same seat? Each day? And the look of horror and total confusion on their face when someone else has sat there.

You can read what they are thinking.

Oh no! My seat? It's taken? What do I do? How about this one? No , it's facing the back of the train, this one? No, it's a three seater, two strangers next to me later! It'll have to be this one! No! It's got a damp patch on it, probably rain but you never know! What do I do!?!? By the time they have chosen, the next station is on the horizon and any seat will do. Their heads, beaded with sweat are constantly on a swivel. 

One chap last week, a gent probably in his 60s, probably legal as he is scruffily smart with hair the same colour and shape as a judges wig, actually asked a lady to move so he could sit where he normally sits. 

But it is not just the train routine. 

In between observing the habits of my fellow travellers I, naturally, look out of the window. 

As it has been dark, house lights have been on and you see people at the same place in their houses and gardens every day at the same time, at a sink, at a table, at the back door having a drag, on the piece of grass with Fido and a stick, running or walking fast to catch the train. 

I find this intriguing. 

Also a little thought provoking. 

I have seen this just because I happen to be passing at the same time each day and I'm observant as that was my job, but what if someone was purposefully watching? Seeing when it was the best time to burgle for instance? 

Now I am not a paranoid person but why make it easy for them? 

In my first retail job many years ago, hang on, some years ago, that sounds better! One of the first things I was taught was always change your routes when walking around the store, if you go the same way every time shoplifters will soon pick up on this, it's something that has always stuck with me. 

The other thing that makes me think about all this routine is, surely we can be a little more imaginative. 

Timetables and hours of work dictate to an extent I accept that and have to work to that myself, but everything else? The thing is I am sure that it isn't just the early mornings that these people have their routines, whatever happened to a change is as good as a rest? Spontinaiety?difference?

Is there a darker side to all the routine? does society like us to do the same things at the same time all the time? 

I am not intelligent enough to go deep into that but I have been surprised by the level of routine I have witnessed. 

The routine doesn't stop there. 

My commute destination is Manchester. 

A city I only flirted with in the sense of in and out quick visits that kind of thing. 

You would think there that routine would be a little less obvious, but no! The same people in the same places each day, and not all of them are going to work, some of them are just there because they are there, each day. 

Some of the people I pass would love to have a different routine though, but can't. 

Manchester does appear to have a lot of unfortunate people living rough, sad to see. 

What is sadder to see is also looking at these same people routinely every morning, afternoon and evening are the people I call the God Squad. 

Groups of men and women immaculately dressed in clothes only they can afford also wearing cheesy grins and inanely holding out leaflets giving advice on how to be a caring sharing person. 

This all happening whilst within ear shot of a leaflet rustle men and women huddle in doorways or alcoves sheltering. 

Maybe a change of routine is needed from the God Squad, maybe some tea or coffees or a blanket? Maybe that isn't in their leaflet?

Since my last ramble we have lost a lot of celebrities and two spring to mind to mention finally here. 

Sir Terry

A genius who observed day to day life and gently mocked it and rode along with it. A master of his craft who changed without never changing. 

And David Bowie. 

I admit I was never what you might call a massive fan but like all icons he never stood still, always different and always trying to set a trend rather than follow. 

Two fine examples of non routine, we should all try it. 

Remember Why We Remember

Wow! It's been a while!

Difficult to believe so much could happen in the time since I was last able to bore you all with a ramble, but so much has.

And it has only been around six months.

So here I am rambling again on rememberance weekend , a time when we think about those people whose life changed in an instant.

Rememberance time is something that I can recall from when I was a child, vividly.

The time of year, dark usually damp, sometimes cold, watching the event from the Royal Albert Hall on the Saturday, taking it in but secretly wishing they would march a little quicker as Match of the Day was due on next and I could be asleep! But even through my eagerness to see Jimmy Hill et al the power of what was being broadcast wasn't lost and even as a young child the knowledge that each petal was a life sent goosebumps through me, still does.

Then there was the Cenotaph, solemn, serious, respectful.

This was our way, the nations way of remembering and thanking those who had made the ultimate sacrifice, it was about them.

Sadly that is no longer the case.

The political elite and their extreme friends have been turning remembrance weekend more and more into a jingoistic flag waving exercise, with the my poppy is bigger than your poppy attitude, it's no longer about the people it's about them.

The poppy is a case in point.

Does anyone, anywhere, seriously question anyone's respect or patriotism if they are not wearing one? Does anyone really think that it's an insult to wear a different coloured one? Surely not.

When someone passes away who you were close to do you wear a black arm band? Do you wear dark colours until after the funeral all the time? No we don't.

Does that mean we care less for the person? No, it absolutely does not.

I am sat here writing this with my poppy in place, not because some idiot might think I am disrespectful or anti British, I wear it because I am paying respects to those who have fallen.

I wear my poppy for the right reason, how many others can honestly say that?

What's The Nul Point?

Warning... Party pooper alert!

Today sees the 60th anniversary of one the most unusual and puzzling phenomena of recent history. 

A group of nations who normally only ever talk to each other in parliaments or conference tables on subjects ranging from fish to the shape of bananas suddenly start to, and I use this term loosely, sing at each other, first party poop there, as I said I used the term loosely. 

The Eurovision Song Contest has defied taste and logic for 60 years, or has it? 

My first memory is of the likes of Dana, Mary Hopkin, Vicky Leandros and of course ABBA. A time when the entrants at least tried to live up to the name of the contest and write or sing a song. 

Yes there was a lot of naff then as well but those songs provided the entertainment, the novelty whilst the good songs fought it out for the judges vote, remember that? A judges vote? Not the public of nations who will inevitably vote for the neighbours or the country they go on holiday to or the country they want a loan from later in the year, the quality has gone.

I did warn you about the party pooper alert.

The contest is now a show to challenge who can be the loudest, strangest, in your face act on the continent, the song, remember the contest title? Takes second and even third place. 

Boo I hear the visionites cry... But sadly if you take away the costumes and hype you'll know I'm right, and oh yes, take away the microphones as well... If they did that and brought music judges back even this party pooper might watch again... I did say might. 

The Powerless Powerhouse

Well it's been a while...

Even though my New Years resolution was to attempt to keep the rambles light hearted, a little different,  it was always going to be difficult not to get involved with the circus that has been the General Election.

For those of you who read this in foreign climbs and I know there are many...thank you! It may be hard to understand how something as potentially simple as an election can completely take over a society, or rather 65% of a society as the other 70%(according to U Gov figures) couldn't be bothered, perhaps an even greater puzzlement for our non British friends, fancy be able to vote and not bothering?

What puzzles most people though, apart from supporters of the two main parties is how can 35% of 65% be called a mandate? 11million votes for one equals 320+ seats nearly 5 million votes for others equals 2?? I'll leave that one with you.

The other thing that kind of lingers like a bad smell is the use of rhetoric over the past month or so, words thrown about easily with no real plan as to how they will be put into use. Let me give you an example.

As a bit of background I live in Cheshire though it used to be Lancashire, another story. Cheshire is in the North West of England and is apparently part of something called a Northern Powerhouse...let's explore further.
 
The term Northern Powerhouse was coined by our chief coiner the Chancellor, basically what it means is if all the major northern cities and areas work together they may, may, at some point be able to buy a one bedroom apartment in London.

The rhetoric of northern powerhouse is I believe extremely patronising and here's why.

Firstly, it implies that all is well in London, this is far from the truth. London is a fantastic city and I love going there but it is being isolated from everywhere else by an executive that loves to divide and instead of it being a capital to be proud of, we are encouraged to look at it suspiciously and aspire to be like it. I'm not sure London likes that image...don't forget this ramble is my opinion.

Which now brings me to the cities in the powerhouse, these aren't one horse towns, sleepy hamlets, these are major cities with an awful lot to offer, they don't need to prove anything and I believe that the distraction of trying to become a powerhouse member could hinder them.

Greater cooperation between them is needed apparently, work together grow together but before you do Manchester will have a form of devolution, just Manchester, is that another division?

So how is this cooperation going to work we ask? Not much in the way of a reply apart from a possible new rail line across the Pennines in around 20 years...ooooo dynamic. I hope the following example will help to show the issues this powerhouse faces.

As I said I live in Cheshire and I have particular contact and interest with four of these major cities, Liverpool Manchester Leeds and Hull.

I live 15 miles from Liverpool, my office is based in North Manchester, a lot of my clients are in the Leeds area and and my son studied and lives in Hull so this is real experience.

I am going to relate to you a typical example of issues we face.

I can drive to our Manchester office...35 miles...easy I here you say...yep it is until around 5:30 am then it takes around 2 hours... If I drove to my office each day I would spend 20 hours of my working week in my car...and that's a good week that's 20 hours per week, 80 hours per month etc etc etc good for business?

So, let's say I need to go to Leeds, if it's in the city I can jump a train...well I can if I'm quick and time it right as it dashes through my station as only 1 train a day will through to Leeds from where I live, I can though change at Manchester, happy days, oh no! Hang on! Only 1 train an hour stops at my station so that's two trains, if I miss that I can get another to another Manchester station and then walk or wait for a train that has gone through my original station to get to the other Manchester station...still with me? Talk about joined up thinking...this powerhouse is looking distinctly less powerful by the minute. 

And if I want to go to Hull on the train I can't...unless I go to Manchester, even though the same train company will then take me to Hull. The ultimate irony though is I can get a train from my own station straight through to...Norwich!! You couldn't write it...oh I just did. 

This is just the tip of the ice berg, I haven't mentioned the northern villages of Newcastle, Preston, Sheffield, Lancaster, Sunderland as yet,  God knows what will happen when they get electricity and want a piece of this powerhouse. 

The above is reality not rhetoric, this is where we are this is what we have and the inept roads and frankly crazy railway systems will still be here even if the name was changed to immense region or the great north universe, action on infrastructure is needed and then the North would be able to not only challenge London but work with it for the good of everyone, a very foreign concept. 

Speaking of foreign, I mentioned earlier about our friends abroad, and I don't mean Scotland, I ask you, can you really see a U.S. Or Japan or Germany putting up with what I've described? No, neither can I. 

Tall Tales Short Stories

Being a kid at heart I was quite looking forward to relaunch, if you pardon the pun, of one of my favourite childhood TV shows this weekend. The Famous Tracy family who saved the world or at least a lot of its inhabitants are back,with us, clothes changed, hair and skin given a brush over, rockets and space stations modernised, strings, completely gotten rid of as CGI joined FAB. 

 Whether you think all this works is entirely up to you.

But that isn't the subject of my ramble. 

As I watched the first episode I think I counted at least three different story lines all concluded within the first half hour. It was as if the makers thought that they had to keep their target audience looking at the screen as anything too long winded may have sent them quickly back to the mobile device of their choice. Children will never watch a programme that has story or a plot lasting longer than 15 minutes will they?

Well actually, yes, they will, when given the chance, as will adults, because this kind of story telling isn't confined to just children's television and isn't just confined to shorter stories, what about the really annoying plot explanations that seem to be the norm these days. 

We know why that happened!! We have just watched it! seen it unfold in front of our own eyes...guessed it was going to happen about 10 minutes ago...we don't need an explanation!! We know!!

The only time I can remember this happening in a programme was Scooby Doo! Every episode had the pesky kids explain to the sheriff or relevant equivalent why the guy tied up dressed as an Egyptian Mummy was the notorious bank robber all along...that worked it was part of the story. 

You want a modern example? Well what about the good Doctor? Hands up who can remember the classic six part stories? Yes, the same plot being told, expanded upon, unfolding in front of our eyes or in some cases in front of the hands which were covering our eyes! 

Who can remember being on the edge of their seat or rather peeping from the back of their seat as the Doctor or one of his companions looked to be doomed and then...the music boomed out and the credits rolled and we children and adults had to think about the story, the plot and try to,guess what next Saturday tea time would bring. Not now. 

As with much new television these days we now have one story episodes of the Doctor except for the miraculously timed end of series which magically transforms into a two parter. Is it true then that we cannot follow a plot for more than 40-45 minutes now? No, it isn't. 

The issue came to light internationally a few years ago with the film Inception. 

Complaints emerged about how it could never work as no one would understand it, the audience would get bored. 

Well one massive box office smash later proved them wrong again. 

I wish the new look International Rescue well in its return though if I need a fix of Tracy Island I will revert back to the original no the tense one story episodes and hope that TV and film makers realise that if challenged we can keep our concentration for longer than the gap between advertisements. 

They Still Cost Nothing

Today I had the pleasure, if that's the right word, of travelling to Middlesborough for the day with work. Now before any Teesiders reading this block me this is not about your home town.

I journeyed there on the train which I have done before.

I began my trip at Widnes station and found my pre booked seat no trouble and settled down for the first leg to Manchester.

Now like all the trains from around 6:30am to 9am from Widnes to Manchester Piccadilly this one was rather popular and populated, this is mainly due to the ridiculously sparse timetable to the main Manchester station. However this morning I had my seat and all was well until...the first stop at Warrington. Here the train gets not just very full but sardine like.

I was sat by the window and I was joined by another chap and surrounded by guys on their sleepy way to Manchester or beyond, the carriage was then populated by the unfortunate folks who were in the last row of the 6 deep crowd waiting for the train, these were in single file standing, now begins the real subject of my ramble.

The person nearest the group of seats to me standing up was a lady.

Now, my first instinct was....no not that you dirty Devils... Was to offer her my seat, but, I would have had to have moved a whole ruck of people whose first instinct was obviously different to mine as they never flinched.

Now this got me thinking, was I being too old fashioned? Was my instinct wrong? Was I expecting too much from people and what would the lady have said if I had have offered her the seat, considering she was at least 25 years younger than me and much fitter, not on that way!! Tut tut.

These thoughts occupied me all the way to Manchester and though I wouldn't have forgotten about them they were re enforced by several incidents of the same kind later in the day.

A man allows a lady to go first onto the train with a heavy case only to be pushed away by another chap once the lady was on board, then people jumping in front of a lady waiting to order a drink and totally ignored her until I mentioned it. Then on my final train back tonight a repeat of the first situation.

So my question is are manners dead?

I go back to my questions of expectations, instincts, old fashioned, I have to answer that no I'm not old fashioned, no my instincts weren't wrong and no my expectations are not too high.
But I have to ask the question...am I in a minority? Do ladies expect gents to offer them their seats? Open and hold doors for them etc etc? And even if they don't expect it is it right I should feel I should do it? I know in these days of equality and burned bras that some men say they want equality so they have it! Nope...not right, in my view.

This comes down to something very basic...manners.

They still cost nothing, free, gratis...maybe people should remember how they would like to be treated themselves.

I'd be very interested from both ladies and gents reading this as to whether I'm right or wrong.