And so to the theatre. I missed 'Beryl' at the West Yorkshire Playhouse during it's first run last year - timed to coincide with the Tour de France - and came within a whisker of missing it again on its revival this year, but just managed to get a ticket for the penultimate performance. As an aside I somehow ended up with a discounted senior citizen ticket. Upon picking it up I tried to pay the extra, but the box office clearly thought I was fantasising about my lost youth and wouldn't take the money.
The play itself is simply wonderful. Given the relative lack of media coverage that Burton got during her life (although I for one had actually heard of her prior to the play being mounted) there was a lot of exposition, but it never dragged or became too much. The four person cast moved as effortlessly through the moods as our heroine moved through the gears; humour was ever-present, but so was a recognition of the impacts on others of her driven personality. The staging was extremely well done as was the physical theatre. There was a round of applause only ten minutes in for one effect which marked her marriage. The fourth wall was broken a number of times, mostly scripted but also on one occasion to allow a member of the sell out audience to display his knowledge of the main crop produced in the triangle between Wakefield, Morley and Rothwell. Anyway, I am not ashamed to say that I left the theatre with a tear in my eye.
"Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember." - Oscar Levant
Now I promised a review of the year - no I did, honest - and, da dah, this is it.
Gig of the year: Thea Gilmore (not just for the tango on the street interlude during the fire alarm), with a special mention for Fairport Convention
Play of the year: 'The Play That Goes Wrong' (absolutely hilarious), with a special mention for 'An August Bank Holiday Lark'
Opera of the year: 'La Traviata' (trite, but the only possible choice), with a special mention for 'The Threepenny Opera' (not actually an opera of course)
Film of the year: 'Gravity' (must confess that I didn't actually see that many)
Wargame of the year: got to be the opening of the wargaming annexe, with a special mention for James' Seven Years War scenario involving forces arriving from all four sides of the table.
Boardgame of the year: Sail to India, with a special mention for Castles of Mad King Ludwig
Event of the year: 'Le Tour de France' coming past my front door, with a special mention for actually having a front door to call my own for the first time in years.
Otley has been preparing for the Tour de France for weeks now, with yellow bicycles popping up everywhere and even the pubs being renamed in French. Nonetheless I was somewhat taken aback when I stepped out of my front door at 7am on the day of le Grand Depart to go to buy the papers and found a group of people on the pavement outside sitting on camping chairs and drinking coffee from Thermos flasks a good five hours before the peloton was due to pass. It steadily grew from there and I doubt if Otley has seen so many people since Cromwell's troops drank dry Le Taureau Noir on their way to fight at Marston Moor.
My house or, as we now say in Yorkshire, chez moi lies directly on the route and so I had a good view of the whole thing, or at least I would have done if it hadn't been for all the other people selfishly blocking my bit of pavement. The main event of the day may be the race, but it rushes past so quickly that there's not much to say about it, and anyway I for one am somewhat cynical about, how can I put this, whether the professional athletes involved have fully embraced the Corinthian spirit. The publicity caravan on the other hand is a spectacle and doesn't pretend to be anything other than grubby and money-making. For some reason watching cars full of grinning and waving young men speeding past followed by police cars with sirens blaring called to mind an amusing episode from many years ago involving an altercation with the special branch bodyguard of then Northern Ireland Secretary Merlyn Rees, only this time with a lot more free promotional merchandise being thrown into the crowd.
The publicity caravan attacks the accessible viewing area with Otley Chevin in the background
In any event, and until I get round to writing up that story, back to le Tour. The spectators weren't entirely sure what to make of the mobile adverts rolling past and some of them didn't get much of a cheer; 'boucherie de veau' anyone? Having said that, a series of floats promoting McCains frozen chips was met with complete indifference as well and they're a Yorkshire company. My own personal favourite was the enormous Robinson's Fruitshoot which resembled nothing so much as the giant tit that escaped in Woody Allen's 'Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask'.
fin de course
So, that was it then. Someone remind me what happens after the Lord Mayor's Show? How about some Johnny Cash.
Before writing about Scipio's glorious (or ridiculous) victory at the gates of Carthage, just a quick word to say that it's like an ants nest outside the Casa Epictetus: frenzied activity, but everyone seems to know exactly what they are doing. Readers can rest assured that no one can put on a major sporting event like the British.
A fire engine gets stuck under the finish line at this week's Otley Cycle Races
Anyway, Scipio defeated a force three times larger; a fact that made no more sense than his defeat at the hands of a force half his own in the the previous battle. It was a combination of the terrain, the effect of having a higher command number and the allocation of victory points. The three of us involved have different interpretations of the exact issues, but I for one really don't think it's working. We shall certainly be changing the rules for the hastati - redesignating them as medium - but whether the triple acies is reflected in any movement or morale sense is up to James and will come as a surprise next week.
Peter's favourite film
Anyway, I have finished yet another turn in front and have an established - if small - base in North Africa with a reasonable sized force in place to first destroy the Carthaginian field army and then besiege Carthage. That's the plan anyway.
In other news my walls have turned up so a siege is back on the menu. Still missing are my War of the Spanish Succession troops. Regular readers will recognise the irony in this, because I didn't really want to do it in the first place. If ever there was a benefit to being a major Stoic philosopher it is now.
"It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters" - Epictetus the Stoic
So, you all want to know, what has happened to the wargaming annexe? [N.B. most definitely not a rhetorical question] Well, progress has been negatively affected by preparations for the Tour de France. More news as and when.
A chap with a beard
Which just leaves time for some much needed words of wisdom from Marcus Aurelius: "When thou art beyond measure angry, bethink thee how momentary is man's life"
