Diary of an Eastbourne Rock Star

People may mock Eastbourne but there is life beyond the genteel veneer. Take, for example, this Friday's concert being held at the Bandstand featuring a Rolling Stones tribute band.

As I was walking along the promenade this morning, I saw the band getting out of their Morris Traveller and, as they walked down to the bandstand to savour Friday's atmosphere, I fell into conversation with their roadie and paramedic Bazza "Funbags" Thrip. His story is retold verbatim:

"It's not our first gig at Eastbourne, you know, we always like to return to our roots. Our vocalist, Dick Sagger, used to go to school here so it's a home from home for him and Phil Hymen, the bass player, had an aunt that he stayed with once ............ or was that Bournemouth? Anyway, it's a great town and we always know that they'll be some action after the gig. Obviously, security is important for us so we always choose a well-guarded place to stay. Mon Repos guest house has quite a large hedge and their Pomeranian "Satan's Bitch" has a really nasty yap. *he laughs* I remember the reporter from the Eastbourne Gazette trying to sneak a picture of the boys trying on their new beige cardies ....... boy, I bet his ankle has still got the scars of those teethmarks!

I remember once, we'd finished the gig and I'd got the band back to their rooms. The front garden was full of fans and there was a nasty accident when 2 mobility scooters were trying to out-drag each other and collided with an old folk singer passing by. He's a mate of ours and was immediately rushed to hospital. Get well soon, Robert Zimmer-man.

Charlie Grots, the drummer, was busy drying himself after a fan, having already thrown her foundation garments, followed up with a Tena Lady and Dick was nursing a cut eye from an exuberantly lobbed Werthers.. The guys had asked me to bring back a few chicks for a party but, as the lift was broken and we were second floor, they'd take a while to get to us. Meanwhile, Ryan Scones, our mad guitarist, was laying out a couple of lines and there was heated discussion about whether the malted was better than the original granules.

Dick had just put on his slippers when there was a knock at the door and the sound of (rather asthmatic) giggling. As I opened the door, I saw a group of silver-haired ladies all wearing tabards with the slogan "W.I. Sucks!" embroidered on them. "Hi," they chorused, "we're the W.I.!!!" ............................... Some hours later, I looked at the sleeping bodies scattered round the room. In the gloom, I could see a smiling set of teeth and idly wondered whose they were?

Forget Vegas or the O2, it's Eastbourne for us every time ........... and they have a really good Primark as well!"

In the Clegg with the LibDems

Today is my beautiful daughter's birthday. Where has 20 years gone? In that time I have watched her turn from my little girl into ............well, she'll always be my little girl. It's written into the Dad Charter.

Anyway, as I waited for her and my equally wonderful son to arrive this morning, I gazed idly out of the window. The lawns below, empty since the Bank Holiday MotorShow Extravaganza, were a scene of activity with crash barriers being put up and balloons inflated. Grateful as I was for Eastbourne Council's efforts to celebrate Zoe's 20th, I was a little puzzled until I noticed the 3 television vans and realised that there might be something more to this. Peering through my camera lens, I read the words "Lib Dems" on the balloons.

Was our candidate worthy of that much news coverage? Well, having seen him wandering around at the previously mentioned MotorShow trying to get noticed, I felt not. It could, surely, only mean the arrival of the leader himself! As I gazed at the various suits and posh birds looking important, I was pretty sure that "Scoop" Bassett was in prime position for some good photos.

Watching the balloons being readied was hilarious: should the LibDems come to power I really hope they get better at handling inflation than they were today. A steady stream of helium-filled balloons floated upwards interspersed with the occasional bunch. Have you noticed how we are becoming Americanised? The Yanks tend to have several bands, banners and about 3000 beautiful people holding placards behind their Presidential candidate whenever he speaks on camera. I saw one T shirt which , I think, said "Nick for Queen" and a very businesslike lady handing out placards. It was rather interesting watching the assembled faithful being shown what to do vis a vis placard holding - it's obviously more difficult than it looks!

"Right, let's get this straight - both hands like this?

"Yep, it looks even better with a placard"

"And ...........UP! Come on you chaps at the back, look lively"

Finally the battle bus arrived and I stood, finger poised over my shutter button, and the tension palpable. It was rather like the best Westerns when Lee van Cleef and Yul Brynner are waiting to see who draws first. The doors opened............. No Clegg, just some bloke with a camera, closely followed by another bloke with a camera.......... then guess what? Yep, another frigging bloke with a camera. The whole bus was filled with media people and not a single yellow rosette in sight.



It gradually dawned upon me that he wasn't there but, using my powers of detection (OK, the space behind the bus was surrounded by cameramen) I realised that he was arriving in somewhat more salubrious transport. Suddenly he was here! The car swept up and he arrived to a chorus of cheers and assorted comments from the more aged residents of Eastbourne e.g. 'Is it Churchill?', 'Do I live here?' and 'Some bastard has nicked me Werthers.'

He climbed on a small podium and proceeded to make a speech, which, courtesy of the converted Dansette Junior record player sound system was audible, even up in my eyrie. He really must know that speech quite well as it was exactly the same as the one I saw on TV the other day but that's modern politics for you - forget policies, let's just get some really good sound bites.

The leader of the Lib Dems gazes in awe at a signed photograph of Bertie Bassett

He sounded sincere and the poor bloke must be totally knackered by now but I was a little upset that, when he answered questions afterwards and waved to the crowd, he did not appear to once turn to those loyal placard bearers behind him and acknowledge them. Presumably he is sure of their vote so no need to waste energy on them? Yes, I AM cynical and NO I won't be voting. It was still quite interesting to see something a little different.




As for my birthday girl, she has spent the whole day semi-asleep on the couch with a really bad sickness bug so, as birthdays go, it wasn't the best. It's my son's birthday Friday so I think a special double celebration next week is in order. By that time, we'll have a new Government - Plus ça change (plus c'est la même chose)

Bassett Towers Mk. II

As some of you may know, Bassett Towers recently relocated. Frankly, Newhaven had lost what little charm it had and Somerfield was in danger of becoming a reasonable store following its takeover by the Co-Op. It was also becoming quite obvious that Mrs B and stairs were not on the best of terms hence our removal to more favourable climes. There had been vague searches of properties for some time but the want list was quite specific; large rooms to house vast numbers of books, nice area, no or few stairs and, preferably, a sea view. In an ideal world, I would also have Sir Terry Pratchett, Neil Young and Felicity Kendall in her "Good Life" days as neighbours but I realise I have to compromise somewhere.

Anyway, this apartment came up. It was in Eastbourne which Mrs B wasn't too sure about but we went and had a look. It was in the Meads area which is rather nice and it was on the seafront so we turned up with the vague hope that it might be OK. As we entered the 24' x 25' lounge and saw the big picture windows overlooking the sea we knew that soon, we just might be moving!

It's a big old building of 4 floors and this was right at the top which was fabby. Views both back and front were wonderful and there was even a balcony out the back so one could soak up the evening rays whilst watching the seagulls wheeling around. The light everywhere was just amazing as that was one thing our Newhaven home was very short of and that, coupled with really high rooms made the whole thing a tempting proposition.

We decided to go for it and were told occupation could take place from 31 March, some 2 months hence. I have to say I wasn't looking forward to the actual move especially as it transpired that the whole lift system was being replaced starting ......can you guess? Yep, 31 March! It also meant that Mrs B would become a virtual prisoner for some 6 weeks until it was all completed. We checked out a few removal companies and a nice lady called Tracy from a firm called Better Moves assured us they would do the job swiftly, safely and with more care than a pilot flying through a cloud of volcanic ash. She offered boxes and we gladly accepted these. Now, let me say at this point, we had already purchased a cardboard box pack from Argos "suitable for a 2 bedroom house" and that was sufficient to pack a small amount of stuff from the playroom! Anyway, cutting a long story short, we eventually filled approximately 120 boxes with our belongings.

That last week before the move was a tad fraught but the day came at last. All clothing had been left in wardrobes, as per instructions, since the men would merely transfer to clothes rails. We had also been told to leave stuff in drawers as these would be transferred in situ. The men seemed jolly nice and I bribed them with the promise of posh bikkies so they got to work willingly. THAT was when the problems started!

We had been told they would bring 2 vans so were surprised when one of them said how fortunate it was they had 2 vans as they were told it was only a one van job and there was no way all of our stuff was going to fit in just a single vehicle. He then asked where the boxes of clothes were and, when told about the clothes rails, said words along the lines of "Bless you, good sir, we haven't used those for years." After he said we would have to pack all the drawer contents (despite what we had been told) I began to realise that communication between him and the office was maybe not that great. It was at this point that I reluctantly (but with a certain foreboding) asked if the lack of lift and that it was third floor had been mentioned to them? His face dropped and he muttered various words, too much for my delicate ears, which suggested that this had definitely not been the case.

We naturally felt really bad about this as they seemed really nice guys and explained to them that we had actually called the firm a couple of days before and suggested 4 rather than 3 men and that we would gladly pay extra but this had been met with an "Oh no, that won't be necessary". Finally, the blokey in charge arranged for another remover to come over and so we finally had 4 men on the job meaning that, by 1.30, our home was in transit.

It took 6 hours for them to get it up here. 120 odd boxes, beds, 2 desks, 2 couches, 6 floor to ceiling bookcases, various bureaux, tables, chairs and other bits of furniture. roughly 40 pictures, 3 TVs, 2 monitors, 2 laptops, Reg the ceramic dog, Kryten the stuffed seagull etc etc etc. When they eventually went, our spacious and beautiful new home was piled high with boxes. They covered the whole place, some 3 high and, being the decisive people we are, the whole lot was left and we just went to sleep for 12 hours - totally exhausted.

That was 17 days ago. The boxes are now all unpacked and collapsed (although taking up a very large chunks of bedroom as they have yet to be collected) and there is now an habitable abode.

There are still piles of bits around and loads to sort out but it's now liveable. There will be a new bathroom and kitchen installed eventually (although retro is very "in" so perhaps not - especially as there's a Neff oven and a Smeg hob). I've found such delights hidden in the many cupboards, nooks and crannies as dralon curtains, collapsible chairs for the balcony

and what appears to be a puncture repair outfit for a stagecoach. In other words, there is some modernisation needed but all in good time.

There are currently more pressing problems like can I actually tear myself and my camera away from the window, optimising the number of times I have to climb those bloody stairs (all 64 of them) and working out whether to use binoculars or buy a bigger TV? 32" used to be fine until now when the desks are some 20' away!

It's been quite a ride and it's not something I would like to repeat. I've a feeling though, it will most certainly have been worth it.

Incidentally, all these photos were taken from Bassett Towers.

The Pig of Happiness

Solitary Bathroom Pleasures

I've been spending a lot of time in the bathroom lately. Nope, not too many ferret tikka masalas nor even a a new conditioner to try (have you noticed how all the different gunks sold to bung on hair these days are all given the generic term "product"? I find it ridiculous that terms from TV adverts are adopted by intelligent human beings and I want nothing to do with it - simples). Anyway, I'm sure you're all agog vis a vis my solitary toilet moments so I shall endeavour to explain.

This building used to be a riverside inn with the whole first floor being used as overnight accommodation for the itinerant population of sailors, travellers and other sundry ne'er do wells until it eventually languished into disuse. The building was bought by a local estate agent and the first floor converted into one big flat which is now Chez Bassett although I do have a house as well (but that's another story!). Anyway, one of the few drawbacks here is that the windows are all quite small and don't really look over anywhere that has a changing scenery like a garden. Sadly, the river is quite boring and doesn't provide much in the way of photographic opportunity until I go further down the road to the harbour. And that is the key to tonight's offering - photography.

The bathroom window overlooks a flat roof which is ideal for attracting the local bird population and it's the only place where I can leave food for them. I can set up my tripod and click away quite happily hence the plethora of "bird on flat roof" pictures" This is a picture of the set-up which might be considered a bit pervy. However, the only people I can spy on are those waiting at the bus stop over the road and even I haven't quite discovered any perverted pleasure associated with that.

Since I started doing this a week or 2 ago it's been a constant battle of wills with my ornithological opponents. I see them out of the kitchen window, pecking away at the feasts I leave and sidle quietly into the bathroom to capture their souls on my G1. The ringed dove seems to have a built-in sensor system and takes off immediately I move a muscle, the magpies tempt me by posing until the moment I am ready to press the shutter and the seagulls basically don't give a toss! That's all the birdlife there is around here apart from the pigeons. No chaffinches, pied wagtails, starlings or jays and I've seen more tits in a catwalk show changing room.

The magpies, presumably a pair, live in a tree about 20 yards away and spend a lot of time strutting around on the grass and chattering away. They've been christened Max and Madeleine and I have to say I've got quite possessive about them. The gulls of course are everywhere and tend to just barge in and fight each other for every last crumb of bread although the babies seem to rule the roost.

I'm hoping that autumn will see a few more visitors as well as give me more visibility as the leaves tumble. Certainly, the wild bird food seems to be largely ignored and I spent ages in the pet shop trying to decide what to buy. Having just researched what magpies eat however, it seems to range from nuts and berries to small rabbits and mammals! I suppose staking out voles for a good camera shot might not go down too well with the neighbours but it's worth considering - teehee.

It's a real bugger not having a proper garden when you have a long lens and time to spare. Yesterday I got a phone call from my best buddy Jimmy saying come round for a cuppa and he looked on with his usual expression of bemused acceptance at my behaviour as I hurtled round his garden taking photos galore.

It certainly beat the solitary pleasures of the bathroom. Having said that, I think I've found Max & Maddie's nesting area so I'm going to need another tripod at one of the kitchen windows now!