The End of Innocence...!

Ah well.  It finally had to happen.  My little lovely niece grew up last week and became a legal adult.  18 years ago (and nine months as it happens) my sister broke the news that she was about to bring another life into the world.  My brother and other sister had previously done the baby thang, but Fi was my contemporary, whereas the others were a decade above us.  So it felt a bit more special.  I still have a grainy VHS recording of Fiona telling our (now departed) Uncle Mike the news.  "I don't care what it is, as long as it's healthy."  Well it - she -  was healthy and I felt a heavy dose of family bonhomie when she came into the world! A lovely sweet girl who I probably had more to do with than my other lovely, sweet nephews and nieces.

Imagine my shock then, when as we sit having a birthday lunch at the Bluebell Cider House in Earlswood - her ex-school chums work there - that she wants a pub crawl to celebrate her 18th!  I'm horrified.  We'd had a bottle of champagne, as you might to celebrate such an occasion. So in horror, I ordered another one.  Niecy said we should move to her boyfiends local.  Good grief.  To minimise the shock of that, I ordered yet another bottle of bubbly.  My neice seemed to be drinking mainly orange juice in spite of the occasion, so in horror I ordered another couple of pints.  Then a chum of my niece turned up, to ferry us to the boyfriends pub.  Can you imagine!  Drive.  In a car.  I know her friend had not had a drink and in fact did not all night, but I still found myself reaching for another pint, just to get me through the shock.  Eventually we arrived at the boyfri

ends pub in Solihull.  I started taking pictures for this blog, although they were not very good, so boyfriend said we needed a couple of shots to help.  Then I found a bench in the pub garden had been dedicated to a local who had died tragically young, so to get us through that, me and boyfriend had another shot.  

My sister seemed concerned about something.  It might have been the fact I'm moving to London yet running Maveric

k in Birmingham.  I'm not quite sure.  So I had a few drinks while I thought about it.  It was a jolly night, but then, for some strange reason I became concerned that my niece had been over drinking. I'm sure I'd seen her have one or two drinks although she seemed remarkably sober.  I think.  But she obviously was not sober, because suddenly there were two of her.  And they were both swaying.  Such a shame.  Her 18th and all. At some point she was hanging on to me while I told her how much I loved her and how proud I was of her and then a bit later my niece and my sister almost fell over me and making my legs go rubbery having called me a taxi and trying to get in it with me I think although I can't be too sure and anyway where had they all gone and what time is it now ooooo look at the lovely coloured lights and remember l

ovely niece and sister and boyfriend and your lovely friends drink responsibly co uk www or wwwhatever time i got home i have no idea oooo i could murder a bag of chips but no chance where do i live? oh yes here.  hear.  no here.  i love my family i do. wheres my girlfriend?  oh yes london.  i'll phone her.  what does a phone look like nowadays.

The next day I felt quite ill.  It must have been something I ate.  My niece was fine, apparently. But tsk, tsk, I despair at the folly of youth and their binge drinking, as reported regularly in the Daily Mail, for instance.  Have you any stories to share about the irresponsibility of youth?  Please comment below.  I really really need to hear your sad and sorry tales too.

Above: Raging, drunken young people looking at me with some concern.

Time for a Murder

Or at least, a film about a murder.  Or at least, a visit from a film crew who are filming some stuff for their internet site which is about the film they want to make about a murder if they get the funding.  And we all know, applying successfully for funding is murder.

So well done to some very smart Birmingham film people.  George Fleming, a man born to make documentaries for TV, although TV may not realise it yet.  Pip and his company, Blue Hippo Media, based in Digbeth... sorry, the East Side, as it is now called, has some great ideas and helped me with my desire to turn Maverick into more of a business.  Check out his website.  And Billy Bannister, another man born to record film and TV sound, although he always seems busy, so perhaps TV is perhaps more aware of him than George.  Their joint efforts to find funding for their film 'Killicurum' must surely be successful if there is any justice in the world, particularly as they are using my current Henry V actor, Ed Morris, to help with direction.

Of course there is no justice in the world, so they might not get their money.  But I loaned them my garage and part of the Henry set to make their on-line trailer and later today I heard about Michael Grade bemoaning the fact that ITV's profits were down substantially and they would obviously have to drop their Public Service remit.  

Of course, the poor ITV dears are being murdered by the multi channel environment and the internet.  The only way they can hang on for dear life is if they drop all those terribly expensive and therefore, not very profitable things.  Things like local news.  Documentaries. Local productions. Working in the regions. 

There's bugger all TV left in the West Midlands anyway.  I never thought I'd cheer the BBC, but I certainly do.  Although there is even talk of them cutting production in Birmingham.  And isn't it spooky that I heard from a friend in ITV that they were planning massive job cuts many months before the current bleating?

I suppose you can't blame a commercial company for doing what it must do, look after its shareholders.  I dont have much affinity with the fat cats, but you can't blame them for wanting to be richer.  But the airwaves are a limited resource.  And the media should be more than just about profit.  ITV are going to shaft us on behalf of their shareholders.  We should scream murder, but we won't.

Back to more relevant matters.  Aren't prosthetics wonderful!  I'm sure you saw my performance in the film I Bought A Vampire Motorcycle - surely everyone did, didn't they? - where I got my legs blown off. Here's Pip's son with a severed hand. One of many in a tupperware container in the crew car.

You've got to hand it to him.  

And here's the star that made it.

More Blood on your dagger, dear?