The Beestonian Issue 47

The

Beestonian Better together. That’s why we use staples.

Issue no.

47

I

I Am Beeston

was away, swanning around on a Greek island, when the Referendum result came in. Typical, I thought, I leave the country for a few days and you go and break it. Well, next time I’m away you can all stay at your grans.

Returning to the UK, I heard stories of a rise in hate-crime due to the Brexit result. Surely not in Beeston, though? Sadly, yes. I was told of a story of an Indian guy, who being both an Anglophile and a football fan was off to watch England play Iceland in a pub, and was racially abused on the street and told to go home. I received emails and messages from people, generally from Eastern Europe, saying how they now felt scared.

This isn’t the Beeston I know. This isn’t the Beeston we want to have represent us. This is a small band of bigots, emboldened by the result, and whipped up by the awfulness of the whole Referendum campaign.

Yet however small this smattering of racism is, hate shouts loud. But love shouts louder.

The editorial of this magazine discussed how we could demonstrate this, and a startlingly obvious idea came to us. Beeston works so well because of the rich, vibrant diversity that keeps the place fascinating. International students from the Uni, the most incredible amount of quality restaurants and food shops, the workers who keep the QMC, Boots and many other places thriving. Wherever people are from, they are Beeston. A town is its people. More than its businesses, more than its buildings, people make a town. We’d celebrate that.

We arranged to meet people, or simply stopped them on the street. We’d have them tell us about themselves, just a few words on who they were and why they liked living in Beeston, then put it up on our Facebook site.

We’d show that a town is not ‘owned’ by one set of people, but is shared by all. We are all Beeston.

(Continued on centre pages)

Bob’s Rock A

picture of the boulder clay, round 550 metres I know of much Contorted, resting to the west of the no similar area on crumpled-up upper start of Ewe Lamb where so much ... is keuper shales, at Wilsthorpe Lane, is the prominent Brickyard, Sandiacre, in 1883. crowded into such He says that “both parishes natural feature known a small space are just on the southern edge as Bob’s Rock. It is of the great Nottinghamshire, roughly located between Derbyshire, and Yorkshire the cemetery, to the south, coalfields. North of a line drawn east and Wesley Place, to the north. and west through the north side of these villages stretch the coal measures and lower This large sandstone outcrop, which carboniferous rocks, which have been forced commands wide views to the north up into a great saddle-back, or anti-clinical over the Erewash valley, is according ridge, now known as the Pennine Chain. to Earp (1990) ‘the third largest stone South of this east and west line the new Red Sandstone strata have been faulted down two in Nottinghamshire’.

In Mellor’s book ‘An address to the young folks of Stapleford, (1906), he interestingly mentions the geology of the area and of Bob’s Rock: “In “The Geology of Stapleford and Sandiacre” Mr. J. Shipman says:—” I know of no similar area where so much work for the field geologist is crowded into such a small space.”

He shows how the rocks have been shattered and displaced by faults, and pushed up or let down, “as to remind one of a patchwork quilt or Mosaic pavement.” He then refers to the millstone grit on Stony Clouds, to the Bunter pebble beds, the Waterstones, the Coal measures, the glacial drift deposits, the alluvial deposits of the Erewash, etc., all of which I am not competent to discuss, but I suggest you should form classes for the study of them.

As evidence of the glacial period, he gives a

Bob’s Rock early 1900s:

or three hundred feet.” He speaks of a deposit of drift close to Bob’s Rock resting “against an old cliff of Bunter Sandstone much fissured and weathered, which formed a sheltered nook in which the sand was deposited when the country was submerged during one of the stages of the glacial period.”

1739, to a company of miners. Wesley hesitated to accept Whitefield’s earnest request to copy this bold step. Overcoming his scruples, he preached his first sermon in the open air, near Bristol, in April of that year. He was still unhappy about the idea of field preaching, and would have thought, ’till very lately,’ such a method of saving souls as ‘almost a sin.’

These open-air services were very successful; and he never again hesitated to preach in any place where an assembly could be got together, more than once using his father’s tombstone at Epworth as a pulpit. He continued for fifty years, entering churches when he was invited, taking his stand in the fields, in halls, cottages, and chapels, when the churches would not receive him.

The Wesley Place Chapel in Stapleford was built afterwards near this spot where John Wesley preached in 1774. He used the natural sandstone outcrop (Bob’s Rock) which stood next to a quarry.

JE

Another interesting story connected with the stone is that of John Wesley (1703-91). It is ‘supposed’ that Wesley preached at the stone in 1774.

John Wesley was an English theologian, evangelist, and founder of The Methodist religious movement. The established Anglican church was hostile to Methodism and most of the parish churches were closed to him.

Wesley’s friend, the evangelist George Whitefield, was also excluded from churches and preached in the open air, in February,

Bob’s Rock, 2013

I

Megan Taylor

have always been a great believer in the idea that Beeston is made up of some fantastic people.

Occasionally, however, I have the bizarre experience of meeting someone who really does stand out from the crowd. This month I had the great pleasure to meet one of our greatest local writers, Megan Taylor, to chat about her work.

What makes Megan stand out quite as much as she did for me is not only her work but mainly that she is by far one of the sweetest people I have ever met, a characteristic that, despite making the interview and beer we have had since very enjoyable, I find just a little bit suspicious.

I’m sure that at this moment, dear reader, you have someone similar in mind; we have all met someone who is just too nice at some point in our lives. What’s the catch, you may be asking? I will come back to that.

So, putting any notions of suspicion aside, conversation quickly began to flow. Megan explained that having worked and lived in London for most of her life she was the proud recipient of a

BA in English from Goldsmiths University of London (“la de da” I said, as a lowly Trent Poly student) which began a lifelong passion for all things literary. In 1999, she relocated North, finally settling here in Beeston (having quickly realised that West Bridgford was not quite all it’s cracked up to be). It was here that things really started to take off. Her first novel, ‘How We Were Lost’, an edgy coming-of-age story, was published by Flame Books in 2007 after coming second in the Yeovil Prize 2006. Deciding that perhaps she was ready to pursue her writing career with all the vigour of a true Beestonian, Megan enrolled herself on a distance learning Masters in creative writing from Manchester Metropolitan University during which time she continued writing, eventually publishing her work, ‘The Dawning’, in 2010.

Since then Megan has gone from strength to strength. Next came the utterly gripping ‘The Lives of Ghosts’ in 2012. Then, in 2014, she published her first short story collection, ‘The Woman Under the Ground’. To top it off, Megan also contributed to the highly successful ‘These Seven’, an anthology of short stories combined and published by Nottingham’s own Five Leaves, to showcase the diversity of writing and communities that our fair city has to offer.

In order to explain how I have finally come to terms and laid aside my initial “she seems too nice” discomfort I took to Megan’s latest novel ‘The Lives of Ghosts’ for some answers and boy did I find them. For the sake of brevity, I will say only that this story was one of the most gripping I have read in a very long time, comparable with so few others but most readily writers such as Joyce Carol Oates but with the emotional engagement displayed by the likes of Stephen King. The narrative may initially appear daunting to some, alternating chapters between our protagonist Liberty Fuller as a grown woman and as her 12-year-old self, but Megan has masterfully interwoven these two perspectives to offer a level of depth that most authors struggle with their whole careers. The story follows Liberty as she returns to her childhood home, an eerie loch-side house in rural Scotland, and attempts to confront the ghosts that have haunted her for 25 years. The dark insight into a number of traumatic events and the attempt to resolve the effects of them

give the story a dark, almost sadistic, sense of suspense which combined with a twist that I did not see coming, makes this a novel that I genuinely could not put down.

Having read many of her short stories as well as her latest novel, all the pieces began to fall into place. Why is Megan such a genuinely lovely woman?

Because she is able to express the darker side of herself so poignantly in her writing, creating worlds and characters that strike a chord with everyone who reads them. Her works speak for themselves but be warned, they are to be read on a dark evening, ideally by candlelight. Megan’s work is available through the usual channels: the Five Leaves bookshop, from her own website and Amazon.

DK

M

Farewell Speedy

any of our readers were saddened to hear the news that one of Beeston’s best known characters, ‘Speedy’ recently died, aged 80.

Many people told us their memories of the guy, how he was a funny, polite gentleman; a dapper dresser; a man with the greenest fingers in Beeston .

Many people, however, were sad they didn’t know more about him -including ourselves. Luckily, his lovely daughter Rosemary told us a bit about her father.

His full name was Edgerton Brathlow Gonsalves, hence ‘Speedy’. Originally from St Vincent in the Carribbean, where he still has family, he worked here for Clutsom Penn in New Sawley, then British Celanese in Spondon. He fathered

8 children and 10 grandchildren.

The rumour that he bought Olbas Oil to the UK is true, so every time you have a blocked up nose relieved by the stuff, tip your hat towards Speedy.

came to growing stuff, he was also an excellent chef “and made the best fried dumplings, hot grated carrots and smoked mackeral”. He also managed that most tricky-to-get-right-thing, homemade wine “Simply the best”, Rosemary tells us.

Most people know him as an avid allotment keeper, and rightly so.

He held three allotments around Beeston, where his prowess for growing was legendary. His particular favourites were American garlic and yearlong potatoes: he’d amaze other allotment holders by the wealth of produce he could turn from the soil all year round.

A man who took great pride in his appearance, he was always careful to look his best “My mum tells me he was like this from a young age”.

We’ll miss Speedy, but we know his legacy will live on, in the growing tips to other gardeners, into all who he would politely wish good day to as he shuttled between allotments; and to his family, who miss him greatly, and who we thank for being generous in their time to help us put this article together.

MB

Not only a dab hand when it

Rhymes with Purple U

An Evening with the Beats

ntil I got asked to review it for this issue, I didn’t know that this monthly poetry event even existed. It was set up by The Beestonian’s very own Darren Kirkbride, and was inspired to set it up as a replacement for the Flying Goose event which ended a year ago.

Ginsberg’s poem ‘A Supermarket in California’, video footage of Burroughs giving a speech (I really liked this one; there’s something strangely satisfying from having heard about someone, and then actually seeing what they look like.

He didn’t disappoint).

He mentioned the idea to Alan Baker when he interviewed him for the January issue, and, with the additional support of Sarah Jackson and John Lucas (the man behind the Flying Goose events) he was able to set it up. There have only been three events so far, including the one I attended, and guests for each have been Alan Baker, Rory Waterman (coincidentally my former dissertation tutor) and Graham Caveney. The event is held at The White Lion, and commences at 7pm.

especially interesting lecture. I admit I’ve never read any Ginsberg or Burroughs, but I have had Burroughs’ Naked Lunch on my bookshelf for a couple of years, waiting until I get round to reading it. And why was this month’s subject on The Beats? It is 60 years since Ginsberg’s poetry collection HOWL was published. The talk lasted just under half an hour but covered lots of ground, and many different areas of the Beats and Beat poets. I found out that their influence was far greater than I initially thought, and collided with other well-known figures from modernists to musicians. Graham mentioned that ‘Burroughs coined the term Heavy Metal’, and ended his talk with an apt observation. He said ‘that anyone who finds themselves in a pub on a wet Wednesday in Beeston probably owes that presence to this bunch of psychiatric casualties, self-styled outlaws, and, occasionally, brilliant, inspiring poets.’ This set the tone perfectly for opening the floor to questions.

The event was slow to start, with only a few attendees present at the start time. However, eventually people started to filter in, and there was a good turnout for when Graham Caveney, the guest speaker, began his talk.

Graham is a biographer of Alan Ginsberg and William Burroughs, and when listening to him, I found the English Literature student in me was satisfied. It was almost like being in an

I’m used to these moments being filled with silence and awkwardness, from my experience in lectures at uni, but here, there were plenty of questions to be asked. Since I felt I was learning about the Beats, I decided to listen to the questions and answers rather than contribute one myself. After the Q&A there were a series of clips from Youtube lined up for us to watch.

These included a visual interpretation of

All the money raised from the evening was donated to helping the migrant crisis in Calais.

All in all, it was worth going. Unfortunately, the event won’t be running over the summer, but I have it on good authority that the next one will take place on September 27.

At this point, we took a break. I heard many Beat-related conversations going on around me, and I took in the ever-cosy atmosphere and looked forward to the next part of the night: Poetry Readings. The brief was to ‘bring along your favourite Beats inspired poem as well as read your own work’. The readings began with a reading from Tony Challis of one of Ginsberg’s poems, and then a poem he’d written in the fashion of Ginsberg’s. Next, Russell Christie read out another Beat poem, followed by an extract from his novel The Queer Diary of Mordred Vienna. More readings ensued, ranging from poems inspired by travelling, to humorous haiku, Primark, and the love of cheese.

JM

Summer Lovin?

Not for this guy - Scott Bennett

W

e are now in full summer mode and although I can’t argue against the benefits of the much welcomed injection of vitamin D into my pasty white carcass, I must admit I’m not a fan of the summer months. Don’t get me wrong I do enjoy the longer nights, a beer in the garden (but that’s mainly because of the beer) a chance to give friends and family food poisoning at my own BBQ and that mood of optimism in the air; but despite that I don’t think the summer agrees with me.

In the UK we seem to have extremes when it comes to the weather. It’s always so unexpected, it catches us off guard. Snow that comes so heavy that everything grinds to a halt, floods that border on the biblical and days so hot and humid you feel like you’ve been parachuted into an oil field in Iraq. I find it hard to even think when temperatures creep into the thirties, small tasks seem as daunting as an expedition to Everest. On the hottest day of the year my wife and I had to change the bed, a task that makes me want to weep at the best of times. After the first pillow case I was already wet through, the sweat was pouring down my back and running in between my butt cheeks like a river and I had so much sweat in my eyes I couldn’t see the buttons on the duvet cover.

The thing the summer does though is give us Brits something to talk about, our favorite subject; the weather. As the temperature increases our ways of describing it becomes more and more bizarre. “Ohh isn’t it muggy out there!” No, unless you’ve just being mugged, that makes no sense. “The problem is, it’s just too close” well yes it will be close, it’s the weather and it’s all around you. In Yorkshire they used to say “eeee its crackin’ flags out there!” meaning it’s so hot it’s capable of causing fracture to your patio slabs, quite poetic, but still sounds like utter bollocks. “It’s warm we can’t work; pass me a beer” that’s all the words you need.

Everyone has their own methods for coping with the heat; particularly at night. I’m almost used to falling asleep now to the gentle white noise of a humming desk fan. There is always that moment when you forget where the fan is and proceed to trip yourself up over the cable on the way to your 4th pee of the night.

I don’t wear my bed clothes in a heatwave, but I like a single sheet on me, there has to be a small amount of weight there. I can’t do

totally naked, laid out like a human sacrifice, I feel far too vulnerable. Also the hot weather brings with it the increase in midges and blood sucking insects and the last thing I want is to offer myself up like some sort of human all you can eat buffet.

It’s normally the early hours of the morning when the heat subsides enough to allow you to drift off. You’ve then got at least 4 hours of fidgety, sweat soaked sleep before you are rudely awaken by that “summer soundtrack”.

The buzz of a Strimmer, a lawnmower, the neighbour building yet another outdoor “project” that just seems to be him hammering the same nail in again and again for three straight hours, or a determined mosquito who proceeds to fly back and forth past your ear until you eventually declare war, put the light on and chase him round the room with a rolled up newspaper.

The daytimes are easier; you can always find relief in an air conditioned shop or supermarket.

If you’re crafty you can spend twenty minutes in the frozen food isle leaning over some Aunt Bessies roast potatoes, wearing nothing but your underwear. It’s heaven and really reduces your core body temperature; the hour interview in the manager’s office and the subsequent court appearance is a small price to pay.

As a blonde haired white man, I burn like kindling in the most moderate of heat. I think we underestimate the weather in the UK, like the sun is somehow a different one to the one that you lie back and bask in on a foreign holiday. We seem to think nothing of doing a full day’s work in the garden, bear chested, without sun cream and with only the one cup of tea to hydrate us.

“Its fine love, we are in Wigan on a Wednesday, it’s not going to burn me, this is British sun; best in the world!” the day after we are in agony,

peeling sheets of skin of our bodies so large you could wrap presents with them.

In the summer months my hay fever condition announces itself with a new found anger and aggression, like a pit-bull on steroids. With eyes streaming like I’ve just been tear gassed, a nose itchier than that of a supermodel with a grand a day coke habit, hives and bumps on my skin a blind man could read as brail and body riddled with so many antihistamines I can barely stay conscious. All in all it’s not a good “look.” They always warn you about not operating heavy machinery when you take antihistamines, which makes me feel sad, how many forklift truck drivers and welders are struggling out there? Unable to work because they have to walk that fine line between sleeping and sneezing.

Summer attire is also stressful. I am completely lost with the sock, sandal, plimsoll, deck shoe or moccasin etiquette. There are normal length socks, sometimes worn with leather sandals, which only geography teachers and bible salesmen are allowed to wear. There are trainer socks, which seem more socially acceptable, white socks though, never black, particularly if you are wearing shorts. Black socks with trainers and shorts looks like you’ve been doing P.E at school and forgotten your kit and had to rummage around in the lost property box. I find picking clothes for a heatwave is difficult. I never go commando though, I don’t care how hot it is, I still need some organization down there. When it’s warm my testicles seem to be constantly in love with my inner thighs, I often have to peel them away from each other like I’m removing a sticker from a windscreen. It’s like a battle down there most days and both parties need to be segregated for their own good.

I can’t and won’t wear a vest and going topless isn’t something I feel comfortable with. The other day I saw a man with his top off, riding a ladies bike with a basket on the front. In the basket of the bike there was a pack of lager and a small dog keeping looking out; it was like a low budget version of the film E.T. It was 24 degrees and we were in a car park outside Lidl, it’s not the Algarve. Put your top back on.

It’s quite late now and the heat has subsided, I’m going to attempt to turn in for the night, or maybe the whole season? I might find the coolest spot in the house; black out the windows, fill my socks with ice, and survive on nothing but a freezer full of Magnum Classics.

See you in October Find The Scott Bennett Podcast on SoundCloud and iTunes SB

Secret Nottingham The father and son historical team go hunting for Nottinghams more fascinating facts… and not only find, but somehow cram them all into a 100 excellent pages.

W

hat’s this??

You’re reviewing a book about NOTTINGHAM? But we read this magazine to hear about Beeston? Trying to expand your readership East of Broadgate, are we?

by

Joe & Frank E Earp

Quiet, dear reader. And also put your concerns that this review might be slightly biased as half of this book’s authors writes for The Beestonian. The reason we are looking at Nottingham is because it’s history, as you’ll find when you open this beautifully presented book, is inextricably linked to Beeston. And Joe Earp is such a quality historian we took him on to edit our history bits, so we knew already he was ace, as did LeftLion, who also get him to do a monthly column.

Together with his dad -who also has a regular gig, but with the Post Lite - this father and son team of intrepid historians take us back through time and then forward to the

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present with such an avalanche of facts you’ll find yourself becoming a conversationalist per excellence when escorting visitors – or indeed those resident for years – round the town. I’ve had an interest in local history for years, and thought I had a pretty mighty arsenal of facts: I wave a white flag, and salute to the superior knowledge of the Earps.

Don’t be expecting a dry, academic text, however. The prose sparks with life, and loves to throw in a bit of rich anecdote to bring the present to life. There is a particularly funny one ** SPOILER ALERT** regarding Back Side, the street now rather tamely called ‘Parliament Street’.

Together with an excellent ‘blue plaque’ cover design; some excellent contemporary and archive photography; a bunch of ‘Did you know that…?” factoid boxes jumping off the

page; and a style familiar and cherished by the pair’s legion of readers, we have a winner, a history book that feels wonderfully fresh and modern.

Yeah, we know Nottingham isn’t quite as ace as Beeston. But if you’re looking for a slice of excellence about our big sister just up the road, then you’re just £14.99 from fulfilment. A corker of a book.

Published by Amberley Books, available all over Nottingham, and more locally, from Beeston WH. Smiths. It can also be ordered direct from www.amberleybooks.com/secret-nottingham. html.

Also, check out the authors fantastic website, https:// nottinghamhiddenhistoryteam. wordpress.com/, which is so chock-full of fascinating info you’ll never see the City in the same way again.

LB

A

fter five weeks of a whopping 50 percent deafness in the wake of Download, I pioneer on like the trooper I am, in the quest for all things different, carrying the flag for the good ship Beestonia...

Firstly, the Ryland’s suffered a blow as legendary venue the Plessey closed its doors after an almighty send off - which I attended - and can report that the nostalgia was running high. Regulars joined forces with curious passersby to celebrate this historic focal point and its rich background. Many a family party had graced the function room with entertainment ranging from live acts to bingo, Northern Soul or blues nights to name a few. After moving to the Beeston area I have spent many a night putting the world to rights

or enjoying a cold one at ‘ode ‘Plessah’: a sad time indeed.

Quickly regaining my composure, I took a change of scenery to the

night in question classical music masterminds The Warp Trio made their debut in the tiny space usually allocated for Mish Mash gallery. Surrounded by stunning

Warp Froth Cafe over at the Creative Quarter. Fear not those with an aversion to non alcoholic drinks, as the night hosted a gorgeous cocktail menu for a cracking 2 for £8 washed down with a side of Live Music of course. The

realistic portraits, and abstract canvases adorning the walls the mood was set by flickering candles and the gentle hum of chatter.

Formed back in 2014 the highly talented musicians splice together familiar popular classical music

with an edgy twist. Josh Henderson introduces his two accomplices as pianist Mikael Darmaine and Ju Young Lee handling the cello.

Within a few bars of their opening piece, the sheer expertise was immediately apparent as the three musicians masterfully flirted between styles from subtle jazz influences to aspects of funk with an enviable ease. Throughout the evening, passion and energy exuded from the artists, during either their renditions of Chopin or original compositions - the experience was completely rewarding even for classical music novices such as me.

That’s it for another issue. I shall keep my eyes extra peeled for musical gems lurking in our vicinity, (that is not a euphemism for Pokémon Go!). Till next time….

LD

I Am Beeston Continued from front cover...

The response to our pieces was phenomenal. Each new post garnered huge amounts of interests. We found a diversity of people that surprised us: from a tiny toddler to an octogenarian, from people born on the same street that they still live on to globetrotters who have found themselves in our town: the sheer range was astonishing. The stories people would tell us as we met them made us both laugh and cry. It was perhaps the most fulfilling project I’ve ever been involved with.

One thing shone out more than anything, and one thing that I urge everyone reading this to take to heart. Just about every respondent we talked to, irrespective of their age, background or nationality, said the same thing when asked why they liked Beeston: the sense of community. That’s you they’re talking about. We might disagree on many things in life, we might clash on occasion. But one thing binds us, and one turns an average town into a great town: the sense of community. Together, we’re better. #iamBeeston #weareBeeston.

MT

In The Cannes I

was greeted by the smell of cooking and lots of toy cars when I met up with jazz singer and member of the Barton dynasty, Jeanie O’Shea, at her Beeston home to chat about her recent experience in Cannes.

Jeanie and her family flew out to the French resort in May, to hear her song ‘I Won’t Ask’ appear as part of the soundtrack to the film Samuel Street; the latest one produced and directed by Mumbai born Aliakbar Campwala, which was screened at the legendary film festival.

His film centres on the street of the same name in the Indian city. The theme of the film appears to be about culture and identity, and how the main Muslim characters, interact with others and themselves in a mainly lower middle class area. Love also plays a part in the storyline, which is where Jeanie’s song comes in. I asked Jeanie, how the director came across her song. “Back in 2010, I joined an agency called I think Starnow.com, which finds extras for films etc. You could also upload photos, videos etc. So I uploaded some of my songs; one being ‘I Won’t Ask’, which I wrote in 2006, in a noisy London bar. Odd, as I normally need perfect quiet to compose. Although I didn’t really get any work, I struck up a friendship with Aliakbar, and we conversed through Facebook etc. Then six years later, he sent me a message asking if he could use my song in the film he was making. Of course I said yes, as long as it followed the usual PRS (Performing Rights Society) rules.

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The song appears half way through the 80minute film, and was part of the Marche Du Film section of the festival, although it wasn’t included in any of the competitions.

“Do you know how it did, and whether UK audiences will get to see it”? “There will be a screening in London sometime in future.

Aliakbar will be doing some re-editing of the film, as it was shown three times during the festival at test screenings, and he got some useful feedback”. As it is an ‘Arthouse’ style of film, the Broadway may do a screening”. Now that there’s a Beeston connection to the film, it could get shown at the Beestonian Flim Club.

I then asked about Jeanie’s experience of getting the red carpet treatment in the French Riviera. “It was hectic and mad. There must have been in the region of 32,000 people involved in the actual festival, plus probably the same again who were there to see what was happening and if they could spot anyone famous. The best I did was Helen Mirren.

It also took ages to get cleared with security, but finally the passes arrived and we could go. We had to pay a fee as well. Around £200. The biggest hurdle was actually getting to Cannes itself, as there was a rail strike, and there were no taxis to be had.

It was an experience that we enjoyed, but probably wouldn’t do it again. You couldn’t really class it as a holiday”. Elson (her son) loved seeing the helicopters flying in and out.

And all the yachts of course. “Would you like to write something else for the screen?”

“Of course. It was great to see one’s name in the credits”. I then left Jeanie to finish her cocktail and continue with her cooking.

Thanks to Jeanie for the photo

CDF

BEESTON PARENTS

D

o you remember “Blockbusters”, that cheesy gameshow hosted by the very lovely Bob Holness?

It was bright and breezy, with young students pitted against each other in a battle to be the first to say “Can I have a ‘P’ please Bob?” The whole thing was accompanied by mascots perched atop desks, and frantic hand jiving to the opening and closing “da da da da” – type theme music.

Well, in the mid-nineties, I was a teaching student in Leeds, and open to any light relief from the intense round of assignments, teaching practice and general student shenanigans.

My friend Claire asked if I wanted to go to an audition. Of course I did. I’d loved Blockbusters in school. So we attended a very dismal audition in a hotel in Leeds, where we had to stand up and tell everyone something about ourselves. I was very witty, amiable and articulate (probably) and a month later, we had a phone call to say we were on! The researcher was a bit stern – “it’s grown-up, BBC2 daytime TV, so no mascots, no whacky t-shirts, no handjiving, and the host is Michael Aspell”.

I revised hard for the quiz show by sitting in the pub impressing boys with my second-hand copy of “The Blockbusters Quiz Book”. Must have worked – I’m married to one of them now.

And I had my hair cut because I was going to be on TV. On the day, we joined about 50 other adults, ranging in age from 18 to 70 at Granada Studios.

It was very exciting, because there were lots of Corrie stars walking about, getting cups of coffee from the vending machine. I didn’t recognize them, because I was an EastEnders fan, but they looked as if I should know them.

I caught a glimpse of some filming going on in a neighbouring studio and was proud to report that I’d seen Matt Lucas, who I knew as the Drummer from Vic and Bob, and the Bloke from the Renault Megane advert.

answer random questions, and beat opponents.

I raced through the second game, and then with victory within my grasp, and one solitary letter flashing on the board, Aspell announced that it was a cliffhanger, and we stopped filming.

players against a solo player. Claire and I were in a pair, and our opponent was an extremely tall geeky boy from Bristol called Steve. The filming started, and I eagerly answered the first question, incorrectly. Steve answered a couple, Claire answered a couple, and I was inwardly crying about my quiz annihilation.

“What E is the real name of actor Martin Sheen?” – I knew this – Emilio Estevez is his son! So I proudly whacked the buzzer, shouted Estevez, and I was in the game.

We won the first game, and paused for some awkward chit chat with Aspell. I mumbled something about wanting to work with street children, Claire talked about white-water rafting, and Steve declared that he wrote comedy and wanted to be a DJ. Oh dear.

Thankfully the torture ceased, and we recommenced the game. I was in the zone! I realized that this was what I was born to do – to

Lead Writer/Founder • Lord Beestonia Co-Founder/Resident Don • Prof J Editor • Christian Design • Dan Business Manager • Mel History Editor • Joe Earp

So we beat the next contestant, a lovely little old lady, and won Gold Run number 2, with Helicopter flying lessons as the prize (much better). Aspell alarmingly called us “The Thelma and Louise of Blockbusters”. We then had a difficult few rounds with a Liverpudlian with very shiny white teeth, beat him, won Gold Run number 3, with a prize of a trip to Reykjavik.

Lovely. Unfortunately, the juggernaut that was Roopam and Claire had to be stopped, because on the BBC version, you had to retire after three Gold Runs.

The show aired a few weeks later in between some cricket on daytime BBC2. Most people I knew missed it, so I taped all three episodes on VHS, which I would occasionally bring out to bore people with, then that was it. My life as a TV quiz superstar fizzled out, and I went back to being a trainee teacher, never to see any of my fellow contestants again…

Until ten years later. I was watching “The Office” when the Oggmonster came on and I realised it was Steve, the tall geeky chap from Blockbusters. I dug out my vhs tape then uploaded it to Youtube. Stephen Merchant’s obsessive fans got me on his Radio 6 show for a chat, which went “you beat me at Blockbusters, but how many BAFTAs have you got?”

Guess he got to live his dream of writing comedy and being a DJ. RC

Now, if you’ve seen Blockbusters, you know that it is a strange beast, with a team of two

The Beestonian is...

The next day we were taxied back to the studio, more hair and makeup, fresh clothes, microphones attached, and won the round.

Yippee! Steve was duly dispatched, and I stepped up to The Hotspot for a Gold Run. I swiftly worked my way across the board: POO(!) = Point of Order; PAP = Pret A Porter, SW=Snow White etc. And Bam! We had won a prize. The voiceover started off well, “we know you enjoy travelling…” but then went on to “so here are some travel books”. Oh.

Top-notch contributors this issue: Matt Turpin, Jimmy Notts, Darren Kirkbride, Jade Moore, Scott Bennett, Christopher Frost, Tim Pollard, Roopam Carroll, Ric Salinger, Karen Attwood, Lulu Davenport, Colin Tucker, Christian Fox, John Cooper and Deman.

Printed by Pixels & Graphics, Beeston

Stockists: Rye, The Hop Pole, The Crown, The White Lion, The Star, The Greyhound, Flying Goose, Mish Mash Gallery, The Malt Shovel, The Guitar Spot, Broadgate Laundrette, Bubba Tea, The Bean, Beeston Library, Cafe ROYA, Newsagent on Chilwell Road, Metro, Beeston Marina Bar and Cafe, Attenborough Nature Reserve, Pottle of Blues, Greenhood, Beeston Nursery, Oxfam Books, L’Oliva.

Bow

Selecta B

y the time the next issue comes out I’ll be married. That may not impress some people (especially the already married) but while I’m not turning into GroomZilla yet it’s definitely a Big Deal for me.

I’ll be *married*.

Yes I know, people get married all the time.

Not the same people obviously (unless they’re Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor) but as I’ve never been married before it’s all a bit of an adventure.

I’m quite used to adventures though, I’ve done any number of weird and amazing things as Robin Hood but that all seems rather tame compared to getting married and I guess that’s how it should be.

Sal’s just as excited. She’s making her wedding dress herself (no, it’s not going to be a Robin Hood wedding) and even our daughter Scarlett is looking forward being a bridesmaid. Everyone we know is gearing up. Great friends are travelling from the UK, the US and Europe to celebrate with us. It’s all *perfect*.

Except... Sal has cancer.

Just over a year ago she was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer. It’s already too late to cure, having spread from her breast to her liver, pelvis and spine. As you can imagine, we were devastated. It was close to being the worst possible news we could have, and as Sal teaches genetics at Nottingham University there wasn’t much she didn’t know. It’s fair to say we were broken, for any number of reasons (us, our future, watching Scarlett grow up). All potentially ripped away in a single diagnosis.

But here’s the thing - Sal is a truly amazing woman.

I love her without limits and for some reason she feels the same about me. So we wept, secondguessed, swore and wished. And then she decided to just get on with life. She started chemo and radiotherapy and after each treatment was back at work in days. I was - am - utterly in awe of her.

Her decision to live with cancer rather than giving in to it was inspirational, and not just to me. Sal took part in the University’s Impact campaign which aims to make a real difference in the lives of breast cancer sufferers. And because she was in a unique position (involved in research and a patient) the organisers asked her to give a presentation at their Open Day.

A year ago she couldn’t have done it. But a few weeks ago she gave a presentation so powerful it touched everyone there. And because the university press release mentioned that ‘Dr Sally Chappell, Nottingham’s official Maid Marian’ was speaking about having cancer local media found out too. We’d not told anyone (not because having cancer is anything to hide, far from it) but suddenly it was out in the open.

So when local media contacted her Sal could have ignored them. Instead she decided people should know that all this could happen to anyone. If any good can come of this she needed to convey a message. So she went on Radio Nottingham for a couple of really sensitively conducted interviews, she talked to the Post and even did an interview for ‘Candis’ magazine (published later this year).

And the message Sal really wants you to get is this: Check your boobs. Check your partner’s boobs (male or female). Probably don’t check strangers’ boobs (that’s wrong and creepy) but if I can say it again one more time: CHECK YOUR BOOBS regularly. Sal didn’t have any of the ‘classic’ signs (lumps, orange peel skin, puckering) just a general thickening of the whole breast tissue that even her GP wasn’t initially worried about because breasts change after childbirth.

As I write, Sal is on round 2 of chemo and it’s dreadful to see her knocked sideways by it.

Scarlett keeps us going, she’s an utter joy and gives us both love and smiles and we have a brilliant support network of incredible family and friends who help with babysitting, shopping, lending ears for us to bend, shoulders to cry on.

We couldn’t do it without them. We’re really blessed, the bloody cancer withstanding.

And we’re grateful to everyone who asks how Sal is.

Knowing that people care is very helpful, especially in the long dark, scary hours of night. Now even when I’m out Robin Hood-ing people I’ve never met before come up to me and ask in a very genuine and concerned way “How’s your wife?” as a lot of people think we’re married already.

I thank them for asking and don’t tell them we’re not married yet because the really great thing is we soon will be. After all of the fun we’ve had as Robin and Marian this is real, a proper grown-up adventure. There’ll be laughter and tears, love and sadness. It’s life. And it’ll be fun so wish us luck.

Oh and please remember: CHECK YOUR BOOBS. Tim Pollard Nottingham’s Official Robin Hood

WORDYGRAM UNSCRAMBLE THESE ANAGRAMS TO MAKE WELL KNOWN PHRASES ANDF NAMES...

1. Snowy Going Freak 2. I Am A Weakish Speller 3. Chums Toss Tea At Snobs 4. Train Kremlin Snob 5. A Stolen Mill Needed 6. Rebel If No Faith 7. Large Ass Lemons 8. O Dear! I’m a gonad 9. Crackpot Inlaw 10. Choir Snore ‘The Garage’

ANSWERS: Gangs Of New York/William Shakespeare/ Boston, Massachusetts/ Martin Luther King/Dead Men Tell No Lies/The Life Of Brian/Los Angeles Rams/Diego Maradonna/Prawn Cocktail/RHINOCEROS

CODEWORD

Location: Vernon Avenue, just off Wollaton Road, Beeston Pen & Ink by Dan Cullen Full colour limited edition giclée prints are available to buy from Mish Mash gallery on the High Road in Chilwell.

Combining

trails O

n a rainy Saturday in mid June, we set off to cover as much ground as possible on the Beeston and Chilwell Garden trail and Attenborough, Beeston and Chilwell Art trail. This involved a bit of planning as the trails criss-crossed the same areas and coffee breaks needed to be factored in.

Fuelled with a fish finger butty from the White Lion, where the first few artists were set up, we set off on an exhausting few miles where eight gardens were visited and fifteen artists were observed, with only a quick pit stop at Froth.

The gardens ranged from preened, palatial expanses to rambling, wild corners: beautiful old fashioned flowers, towering architectural plants, hens, cold frames, statues and fountains, vegetable plots, summer houses and little pools. The smells were amazing, the breadth of flora and fauna overwhelming.

The art was even more diverse. From huge dramatic canvases to sunny seaside scenes, watercolours of local scenes, abstract art, amazing photos, truly realistically painted animals and birds, stained glass, textiles, vivid colours, subtle monochromes and pastels.

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One thing was common with all – the overwhelming welcoming and generous nature of both artists and gardeners, revealing their passions and happy to share their little secrets. There was something to inspire everyone.

KA THE

BIG

PAINT

D

uring early April, potential diners walking along Chilwell High Road were encouraged by the emergence of the latest outlet - welcoming leaflets on the table outside, exciting social media promises and beautiful smells coming out of the kitchen.

The Library restaurant on Wollaton Road, which closed a few years ago, gained an excellent reputation and has been much missed – so the news that the same highly experienced and skilled chef who cooked there (and previously at La Toque), Mattias Karlsson, was coming back to cook in Beeston. He has now set up an establishment along with Patrick De Souza, a local talented home chef and this has been greeted with much excitement. The Frustrated Chef has been pretty much packed out since its opening on 14th April. Since then many people have had excellent experiences and have been pleased to share the news on Facebook, and across the garden fence. It has now extended opening hours to include lunchtimes and will

start a special Sunday service on 19th June.

The Frustrated Chef’s offer is World Tapas and the ever changing menu features a diverse range of dishes with multi-national inspiration from nibbles such as delicious hummus with smoked paprika and fried broad beans, goat cheese parcels with sweet chilli, piquillo peppers with feta, olives and orange to more substantial meat and fish dishes such as Swedish meatballs and mussels with white wine and harissa, alongside salads and breads and specials every night. The desserts were also highly enjoyable – pistachio shortbread with rum and cinnamon chocolate sauce was yummy.

It is fantastic to go around the world from Chilwell High Road!

For every morsel consumed and cocktail drunk I think we should spare a thought for the team behind Relish. Their vision to make a café out of three rather

IT

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BRIGHT

unloved shop units and hard work to establish it lies beneath this exciting new restaurant.

I hope Mattias and Patrick are frustrated no more!

KA

OXJAM 2016:

Let the music begin

A

fter the staggering turnout for our ‘launch event’ - the Music Quiz in June - we’re delighted that our first proper music event was also a great success: ‘Oxjam Unplugged’.

along with the music. The music itself was of various styles of ‘acoustic’ (mediated through a great little PA, well-managed by Chris Sadler), including the lovely delicate harp tunes of Christine Palethorpe, the delightful songsmithery of Emma Bladon Jones, the quirky songs of Dave Mooney (pictured), the more laid-back material of indie-rocker-turned-soloartist, Andrew Tucker and the brilliant versions of folk songs (and a few originals) of ‘top-ofthe-bill’ Paul Carbuncle.

Ceilidh and more

This was a new event for us - and a new venue - and both turned out to be excellent choices.

A close-to-capacity audience turned up to the Middle Street Resource Centre on Saturday 2nd July, and all agreed what a great venue it was for this kind of event, with the room beautifully set out in ‘cabaret style’ and a well-priced meal available along with beer and wine, to enjoy

Our next two Oxjam Beeston events are the ‘Oxjam Introducing…’ night for under19 performers at the West End Youth and Community Centre on 16 September and the ever-popular ‘Oxjam Ceilidh’ on Saturday 24 September. Tickets for the latter, priced £10 each, are already on sale (get yours at the Oxfam Books and Music shop in Beeston, or online if you don’t mind paying a booking fee).

The venue this time is Christ Church Hall (next to College House School).

I

t’s hard to believe that in August the tram will have been running for a whole year. We have a tremendous amount of sympathy for all the Beeston residents and businesses that were (and still are) negatively affected by it, but it seems that most people have come to accept that it isn’t going to go way and that we have to make the most of it.

We say most, as there are remaining pockets of nostalgic folk who still enjoy wallowing in the misery memory of diversions, one way lights and endless queues of traffic. In tribute to these cheery souls we commissioned this beautiful artwork, which you can cut out, colour in, and stick to your front window. If there is enough interest, we may even reproduce the design on a batch of t-shirts.

JC

Takeover In case you needed reminding, the main ‘Takeover’ event is on Saturday 15 October.

If you’re a performer, the ‘Call for Artists’ is already live on our website so get over there and send us your details if you want to play.

Tickets for THAT will be available in early September. Get over and ‘like’ our Facebook page or check our website to keep informed of developments (www.oxjambeeston.org).

A quiet Summer!

Over the next few weeks we’ll be consolidating our plans and doing a bit of light promoting maybe you saw us at the Beeston Carnival and you might catch us at ‘Party in the Park’ on 6 August. We are also looking for supporters and sponsors - and volunteers. If you are a local business or an individual there’s a lot you could offer: cash sponsorship, support ‘in kind’ (by supplying goods or services for free or at below cost) or by giving us your time. Remember, ‘Oxjam’ is run entirely by volunteers with the aim of raising money for OXFAM by providing an opportunity to hear some great ‘local’ music.

For more info, please contact Colin Tucker on beestonoxjam2016@gmail.com CT

Gossip from the

HIVE MIND +++A trip down to Beeston Old Town Hall for the Blue Plaque Guide launch, as the incredible scheme to deck out prominent places and people around Beeston and South Broxtowe concluded, and the Blue Plaque Guide launched. It’s a very hot day, and the place is rammed. The great and good of Beeston are here, but there is one exception: where is Professor Sir Martyn Poliakoff, someone who has been active in plaques for local scientists and a brilliant ambassador for both Beeston and Science? “Oh, he’s meeting with astronaut Tim Peake” we’re told. Fair enough, but if they’re just having a coffee together down Rye or Bean, surely he can drop by “It’s a reception at 10 Downing Street with the new Prime Minister”.

Ah, fair enough. +++ +++ Another celebrity does stop by Beeston. Celebrity Christian, Radio 4 stalwart and former member of the Communards, the Reverend Richard Coles, asks the question many do while passing through the town by rail: We bombarded him with reasons, and this issue of the magazine will be winging its way to his parish in Northamptonshire, with an invitation to stop by and see the town for himself. COLES TO BEESTON! THE CAMPAIGN HAS LAUNCHED! +++

+++ While we do attract some talent here, Westminster seems to have fallen out with Beeston in these post-Brexit days. Not only has our local MP, Anna Soubry, been sacked graciously resigned from the Cabinet, but our own Baroness Beeston, Lady Tina Stowell, has been moved from Leader of the House of Lords to the back benches.

Bah, now Beeston has no representative at Cabinet. Well, following Brexit, am I sensing a buzz in the air calling for Beesexit? Beeston to gain full independence via referendum? We could keep the £350 milllion (approx.) we send to London every week and spend it on not having to close the toilets down, some hanging baskets and a nose-job for the Beeman. Who will lead us? Well, I’ve already got Charlie Fogg putting together a sceptre, orb and crown, so get to the back of the queue, everyone else. +++ +++ The Beestonian Pubcast with Scott Bennett goes from strength to strength, as the three intrepid pubcasters (Scott, John ‘Poolie’ Cooper and Lord Beestonia get a bit drunk and talk about a medley of subjects that pop into their head. Sometimes, a musical guest drops by and joins in before playing a tune. it’s all very good fun and somehow the producer edits our babblings into a nugget of ace. Not listened to it yet? Then do so RIGHT NOW: it’s available on iTunes , Soundcloud and most podcast aggregators. And if you fancy seeing the magic happen, they’ll be a live recording, with some top-notch guests, coming your way soon. +++ +++ And finally, we’d like to pay tribute to one of the most amazing guys in Beeston, Dr Peter Robinson, the guy behind the aforementioned Blue Plaque scheme. His energy and commitment to the project has been immense. We partcuarly remember seeing him, early on a Sunday morning, crouched over The Ten Bell near Sainsburys, scrubbing the surround in preperation for the unveiling.

You need to be dead to get a blue plaque dedicated to you, so it’ll be a long time before he gets one of them. however, if anyone fancies gold-plating a stepladder, we think it’ll make the perfect tribute. +++

Thanks!

Huge thanks to all of our contributors, sponsors, stockists, regular readers and anyone who has picked this up for the first time (hello!)

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