This Sunday marks the 5th anniversary of Ronnie Barker's death. To many he will always be the jailbird Fletcher. And to many more the tight-fisted Arkwright. But I guess it's as one half of The Two Ronnies that the Great British public will always remember him; it's hard to imagine now, but on Saturday nights in the 70s they were watched by north of 15 million viewers.
When the Number One Son came back for a few days last week, he and his fair maiden brought along some autographs her dad has collected over the years. I posted Spike Milligan's on Mondo's blog earlier in the week. Here's Messrs Barker and Corbett.
And, if you've got a minute, listen to Ian McMillan, the Bard of Barnsley, wax lyrical on the genius that was Ronnie Barker.
As our move date gets ever nearer (a little over 4 weeks away), the reality of leaving the city I've lived in for 25 years begins to sink in. As for uprooting from Medd Towers (home for nearly 20 years - Number One Son was but a babe in arms when we first crossed the threshold), I've been detaching myself by degrees - with each room we clear it becomes less our home and more the shell we bequeath to the new owners. Don't get me wrong, there's so many memories here, when we lock the door for the last time and drive away, there won't be a dry eye in the house, sorry, car.
We're now conscious that with every visit to a favourite pub, restaurant, park or even venue, we probably won't be returning to them many more times, if at all. With that in mind it was bloody typical that last week Mrs M and I discovered a cracking bar that we'd never been to before. The Roundhouse is a circular building that used to be home to The Eye Hospital. With a fine selection of real ales, a simple but classy menu, good music and attentive staff, I can't believe it hadn't appeared on our radar before. I took a photograph and somehow managed to make it look like the leaning tower of Pisa.
Hopefully, before I go, and with a little help from my old diaries, I'll get 'round to picking out some of my favourite gigs over the last few years in Nottingham's various venues. In the last two and a half decades I've witnessed some jaw dropping concerts at Rock City, The Rescue Rooms, The Bodega, Junktion 7, The Running Horse and The Royal Concert Hall - all places I'll miss and remember with affection.
Time to end the working week. The band may hail from Italy and the song may have been written by an American jazzer, but the link to Sergio Mendes and Brasil 66 is undeniable. So go on, sit back and crank it up to 11.
A few weeks ago I told you the BBC were going to run with an idea of mine for a radio programme. Radio 4's iPM, the sister show to PM, picked up an a theme I wrote for this blog back in May - whatever happened to transport caffs? With help from artist Anton Hecht and sound engineer Chris Prosho, we opened it up and interviewed punters at The Limes in Nottinghamshire and got to discover all sorts of things. We got an insight not just into who still uses roadside caffs, but also their back stories. And we wrote a song! It's going out this evening at 5.30pm, but if you want a sneak preview of the 5 minute soundscape we created, it's here.
(l-r) Chris Prosho, Anton Hecht, Mark (Limes owner), John Medd
A big thank you to Ryan Dilley at the BBC. And Hugh Sykes.
So, Trent FM, together with Leicester Sound and Ram FM, have been consumed by the mighty Capital FM; in pretty much the same way as every high street up and down the land looks the same, now it'll sound the same too. Industry experts, true to form, say it's a good thing. One even said 'I think, on balance, it’ll produce a sensible quasi-national brand that’ll benefit the radio industry as a whole. And that’s the important thing.' Eh?
Stop the world, I want to get off.
Don't get me wrong, Radio Trent ceased to have any local relevance many moons ago. It probably went awol when it lost its 301 meters frequency on the medium wave. And, as any fool will tell you, I'm not the demographic they're aiming at anyway. But, with syndicated presenters and news from London, local commercial radio is up there with Arsenal, Chelsea and Liverpool - they may play at the stadium in the town, but with squads comprising mainly Johnny Foreigners, they have little or no real link to the community.
