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The Green, Green Grass of Home: Mr Jones An Aberfan Story - Finborough Theatre

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A life of hope and promise, interrupted, lies at the heart of Mr Jones: an Aberfan Story. The play follows two young people in Aberfan before and after the disaster that killed 144 people, including 116 children. It’s an emotional coming-of-age tale of intersecting lives, family, love, and the shock of tragedy. With two vivid performances and strong characterisations, you feel immersed in 1960s Welsh small-town life. It’s now running at the Finborough Theatre , after performances at the Edinburgh Festival and across Wales.  The Aberfan disaster is well known in the UK but perhaps less so elsewhere. The facts of the tragedy are confined to the programme notes rather than in the piece. On 21 October 1966, the catastrophic collapse of a colliery spoil tip on a mountain above Aberfan engulfed a local school, killing many. The play avoids the causes and negligence, instead focusing on those working and building lives in the town.  Writer-performer Liam Holmes plays Stephen Jones, a...
Bar Bitches

This weekend I decided not to go on an out-of-town excursion as enough excitement had happened in the week to deserve a jolly good sleep in.

I did go to a funky bar at Balham (gateway to the south some may recall Peter Sellers once saying). It is zone three south London on the Northern Line - aka a bloody long way to go for a bar!

What was I doing in Balham? Well it was for Helen's birthday. Helen grew up with Skye so that's the connection. Anyway I was due to meet Skye early at the place but tube delays meant I was a little late. Well over an hour late. There was a line up to get inside this bar that was probably the most sophistimicated bar in Balham. It was quite funky once you got over the fact that it was located outside a Sainsbury's car park.

So I had to enjoy the October London night air. London in October is quite refreshing.

Twenty minutes later and still standing in line to get into a bar however the novelty begins to wear off and you start to realise that the refreshing night breeze gets a little icy.

Eventually I did get inside. Skye was looking hot to trot with a new hair doo so we started checking out the talent. The bar had several peculiar things about it:
* Lots of large tropical fish in a huge tank set against the wall. The fish were mesmerised when one of the punters held a copy of a copy of a Chanel bag up to the glass.
* It wasn't terribly crowded (which made me wonder about the need to wait outside)
* It was full of fauxmosexuals. This is the new London term for metrosexual males or those who are ambiguously straight.

Highlights of the evening included the following revelations...
* Some guys don’t mind having a girl kick them in the pants to get their attention. But he still told Skye he was gay.
* We made new friends with four guys - blue shirt guy, stripey shirt guy, star trek guy (because his shirt looked like it was something Captain Picard would wear on vacation) and paranoid guy (because he thought we were talking about him when in fact Skye and her friends were checking out the others).
* By midnight it was time to head back north. Sobered up in Soho over blueberry pancakes and bacon at 1am and made friends with a drunk waiter who was about to be fired. At least he got our order right. Neighbouring diners were disappointed we were not from Sydney but relieved we were not a couple (well we were in Old Compton Street).

Things to do
* Catch more nightbusses home. You can make new friends when little people fall asleep on your shoulder.
* Stop applying for tickets to BBC shows. I am swamped with them. Have two radio shows to see early this week and Celebrity Mastermind next Sunday...

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