Month: April 2016

Victoria Wood

What a sad, sad day.

She was in a class of her own.
An exceptional talent.

A brilliant writer.
Great performer.
He comedy series were far better
than many of her of contemporaries.

She also knew when it was time to stop,
it is to her credit that she was never interested
in running her series until the material ran out
of steam. One series or two if you were lucky.

It is hard to choose only one of her series because she
was at the top of her game in each one.

She lived in the Lake District, kept away from
the London crowd.

I edited a film interview with her about her record collection.
Before the shoot the director chatted to me about where
to film her. We both both agreed on a piano repair shop.
Ursula, the director, found a great location in Preston.
The interview was shot there.

At the viewing the series producer asked us why had we interviewed
Victoria Wood in a piano workshop?
Stupid man.
That is what we had to contend with in Music and Arts.

Victoria Wood – smashing it to them – live – You Tube



He Thought of Her


He thought of her
walking through a dense wood
or on a desserted shore.

Lost in her thoughts.
Happy to be away from him.

She should escape more with her thoughts.
Explore the tranquility of space.
Massage her inner soul.

Yet when she returns
He knows she will want him.
Need his assured touch
His mouth, his love.

He thought of her
walking through the garden
skipping through the door
no need of anymore solitude.

His room.
His bed.
He waits.
Silence before a storm of desire.


Checkpoint Charlie, Berlin

Yes, I was there but didn’t bring the wall down.

Though I did my bit for the West, exchanged money on the street to give western currency to an East German Guy. Though I almost paid the price for that gesture.

On my return to the West I was detained at Checkpoint Charlie for 40 minutes.

At that time I was a film editor for the BBC, so showed them my BBC pass hoping that it would help, they just pushed it to one side.

I was then hoping for a strip search by a Russian beauty but the East German police sent out a Russian female wrestler to deal with me. I quickly went off the strip search idea.

Walked safely back to the West to be greeted with a hug from a Canadian, who had witnessed my predicament. I felt like Solzhenitsyn.

I had a German girlfriend in Berlin at the time. She was livid when I told her what had happened. She was not so much annoyed at me being detained by the police and KGB but at me being set free. She said had it been her they would have kept her in a cell for a night.

“They’ve only let you go because you are British.”


Note: Photos of Berlin Wall to follow.