Saturday 28 April 2007

Danger - South Bank Blow Out!


If you have an eating disorder - look away now. This post is a tale of hedonism and greed. Brilliant!

Here's a picture to start -

Within a few minutes, it looked like this...



I had my full week in London but I had occasion to go to the South Bank - the brilliant Shakespeare's Globe to be precise - for a few meetings. I remembered the first time I went to the Globe on my own. It wasn't fully built then, but my overriding memory is that it took me ages to save for the Coach fare from Birmingham and I took sandwiches because I couldn't afford to buy any food. It was indicative of the financial constraints of the early Maverick Theatre. Money is still tight, but I now have credit cards, so I decided, rather than book a week in the sun, my holiday would be to the inner Land of Indulgence. Not just meals, but meals that fill you to bursting! Overindulgence! Supersized! So this is sort of a holiday guide for gluttons. I shall mark my restaurants out of ten, but the mark is to how sick I felt... how almost unable to move!

Turkish Pizza place, behind the Globe. 9/10.;

I'd never come across this before, but it was very tasty and the service very efficient. I shouldn't really include it here, because I had a meeting AFTER this, which meant time, rather than decadent gluttony, was the main consideration. The other meal had NO time constraint, which meant I could really go for it!


British Film Institute Restaurant, South Bank.16/10.

This was the real killer, as you can see from the score. The food is wonderful and plentiful! In spite of the exclusivity of the surroundings, there was little neuvo here, loves and the portions were massive!

The pudding thing was sooo lovely, but I've still no idea what it is called.

WARNING - The real danger here are the excellent staff. I'd only intended to have a main course, but they are all young, lovely and impossible to say no to, so everything they suggested, I had.
It was so bad, I not only couldn't drink all the coffee, I even left some BEER! Yep, that stuffed...!

Thursday 19 April 2007

A Birmingham Stomach and Goodbye M. Palin

I'm off to Olde London towne for a full week and after a conversation with me other half, Rebecca, about the joys or otherwise of being a Lady of Leisure, I decide to become a Lad Who Lunches. Bring it on, capital city. Can you beat Birmingham, Balti Capital of the World?

The potential cost of this potential gluttony is being supported by another personal loan I have had to take out. As you may know from a previous blog, I ran out of money at the end of March. This new loan means I now have enough finance to keep going till September 2007. The reality of Maverick moves another step closer. As does the reality of paying back the loans. But this is no time for a faint heart...!

I have also now COMPLETELY got over Michael Palin. I have a new best friend now, a man called Dominic Dromgoole. Apart from the obvious Irish connections, Dommy, as I have already started to call him, has written a book called 'Will and Me - How Shakespeare Took Over My Life'. So far it's a great read. As with Mickey P, I feel an initial twinge of envy at the Oxbridge education and all its opportunities, but, also like Mickey P, Doms lack of bull is refreshing. And reading about another human soul hijacked by the Bard gives me something of the feeling of self-help. I've also been buggered a bit by the bard, metaphorically speaking. Although, looking at my finances trying to get Henry V on, maybe more literally. And Dom likes his Shakespeare without all the pretentious bollix that often goes with it.

I love Dom. I hardly give Mickey P a thought now. Ever. I'm completely over him and his diaries 1970 - 1979. Although I did nearly buy the Monty Python DVD last week. ..

Monday 2 April 2007

Can You Hear Me, Mother...?


It's been a rock'n' roll week. Not Alf, pop pickers! As well as presenting the breakfast show, I filled in for Dave Hickman on the afternoon show on the DAB and Sky channel 0161 Rock Station, The Arrow. So it was a bit of a Hennegan Rock Sandwich for Arrow listeners. I like radio, and certainly the management of radio stations has improved markedly since I first started. A few years ago now, actually. In fact, thinking about it, Marconi had not long warmed up his first valve! Or at least 1977-ish in a broom cupboard in an ecumenical centre in Thamesmead, South East London. Nick Mobbs, as I was known then, simply because I used to open the doors to the studios and encourage people to come in for a chat. Or a sing. Or anything really. Nick and his Mobbs. And BBC's Steve Wright thinks he was the first jock in the UK to have a gang in a radio studio.

The Arrow, which is part of Chrysalis Radio who also own Galaxy and Heart, has been a great help personally over the last four years or so, and particularly the Programme Director, Alan, who is demanding in a very cool, undemanding way! I'm not moaning about Maverick Theatre, because I chose to do it, but I hadn't realised how hard it was and the toll taken by the grinding poverty until I started to earn a 'normal' living with the Arrow. The relief of only having one job to think about and knowing the bills could be paid at the end of each month was nothing short of glorious. Till I got itchy feet again, of course, which seems to happen every couple of years or so. One of the glories of theatre is that every production, every audience, every night is usually different. Also I feel I failed with Maverick before, because I was not able to make it pay enough to earn a reasonable living for those involved . There are many people who disagree with me and don't see Maverick was a failure in any way, but then they didn't have to struggle with periods on the dole and crushing debts. What made it even worse was that some people would see a packed audience and think I was rolling in it! I eventually gave up trying to point out the economic differences between Cameron M's Palace Theatre and Nick H's Billesley Pub Theatre. I once had to make ten Sovereign and a 25p packet of noodles last a week! Oh the romance of it all. We do laugh now! The struggling artist in his garrote. Balls! I ain't never gonna do that again, brothers and sisters! Not if I can help it anyway. There is NO glamour in poverty. I'm not bothered about being rich, but I've not had more than a weekend away since 1994. A week on holiday should not be a luxury.

And talking of finance - a bit of bad news. My accountant basically thinks my Business Plan is a non-starter commercially. Bugger. I appreciate his directness, though. I have two other people looking at it, but it's a curious dichotomy. To run things properly we need about £47,000. This debt starts to get re-paid after the first year. Them's the figures, but obviously I'm not skilled enough to present them correctly. Mmm. Time to think again.

After I've heard from my accountant, I go for milk from the supermarket. I can tell you it's a very frightening moment when I suddenly realise I've been subconsciously pricing the packets of noodles. Fortunately I no longer smoke, so I ignore the packets of Sovereign...!