Cinema & TV & a dream

To brighten up the blog-roll, here is a photo
of some primroses that Mrs C. has planted
outside.

I’m starting to feel physically fitter, as on
several weekdays each week, I do a fast walk
into the city centre and back, to attend adult
education meetings and for food shopping too,
and for occasional trips to the cinema with
Mrs C..

In fact we’ve just to the Corner House to see
the biography of Johnny Cash, “Walk The Line”
– brilliant. Fabulous singing and acting by
the leads, played by the hunky Joaquin
Phoenix and the gorgeous Reese Witherspoon.

Last week, we saw Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon
(as co-lead / supporting actor to Steve) in
“The Cock and Bull Story”. We both enjoyed it,
especially the banter between Steve and Rob.
The plot deliberately meanders around, in a
similar manner to the book(s), “Tristram
Shandy" ... rather like this blog.

We saw this at the “Broadway Cinema”, which
shows a higher proportion of non-mainstream
films than the UGC or the Odeon chain, and we
stayed on for an interesting talk about both
the film and the book, from the curator of
the Laurence Sterne museum.

Yesterday evening we watched “Life on Mars”
– a somewhat feeble plot, but very watchable.
John Sims playing the detective inspector
flung back in time to the 70s, a thinking cop
who’s used to modern-day policing methods and
not using sexist language in the workplace,
and his boss, played by Philip Glenister,
who’s more street-wise. By working together,
they solve the crime, though the John Sims
character is more clever (like Morse or
Poirot). Somewhat like the two minds of
John Lennon and Paul McCartney coming
together as the Beatles – they produced
better quality music than when they went their
separate ways. Synergy is the word that
springs to mind. The plot was all about
rivalry between the two football clubs in
Manchester, which I think triggered the dream
I had last night.

Later we watched a video of Sheila Hancock’s
family history, which was very interesting.
Good to have a team of genealogists working
for you, and to be whisked off abroad to see
where your ancestors came from or went. I’ve
got a long list of such places I’d like to
visit... Ireland & Scotland, and the West
Midlands for starters, then Ohio in US, where
my great uncle Fred settled down, and New
Zealand too.

Lat night I dreamed about one of childhood
homes (in Cheadle Hulme, near Bramhall Park,
near Manchester) … a dream home for a kid in
many ways, but too far away from my school
friends. It was a huge red-brick Victorian
semi, with woodland down one side of the
garden (mainly large horse-chestnut trees),
and a huge garden at the back (with a
decaying wooden garage, and a wendy house,
where my sister and I used to play – making
mud pies and making imaginary afternoon tea
with a tiny tea set.

One of the few times my dad gave me any
attention as a kid (he spent most of his time
reading books & listening to classical music),
was when he taught me how to ride a bike on
the back lawn. That was great fun. He was a
keen sportsman at his own school and at uni,
but he lost interest in all that in later life
– never took us swimming for example (though
he was the champion swimmer at his school),
and never played football , cricket, or
tennis with us (and never took us to any
matches). We were left to entertain
ourselves, and often we would walk off up to
2-3 miles away, to playgrounds/fields in the
area. I don’t think parents would give their
young kids such freedom today, in case
something bad happened to them.

Coming back to my dream, I was walking down
the street in Cheadle Hulme where the house
was, and walked on another 100 yards/metres
or so, when the street plan changed suddenly
into unknown territory. There was a row of
shops looking somewhat shabby, and then an
open area going downhill. I asked a young
woman how long the shops had been there, but
she had no idea. (They looked as if they’d
been built in the 30s/40s). Well, I woke up
shortly after this, partly as the dream
seemed totally alien to me, and I’d also had
my usual quota of sleep, which is about 6
hours.

I’ll carry on with various strands of all
this in my next blog.