As You Like It

As a belated Xmas gift from Mrs Terry, we attended "As You Like It" at The Globe Theatre on Saturday evening. The good lady Wife has been there before with her girlfriends, but, I was a Globe Virgin, so to speak. Now, having listened to various opinions of the re-creation of Will's Crib, I was a little wary of a "Disney does Shakespeare" environment. Fear not, my friends, for I shall report nothing, but, good news. The place is beautifully situated on the banks of the Thames (even though it is on the South side, we can forgive them that one indiscretion), with a wonderful view of St. Pauls on the opposite bank. Fast Forward to the play itself and the theatre manages to make you feel that you are part of the performance, even more so when the actors are to be found walking through the audience or perched upon a ledge in the stalls. Thea Sharrock's adaptation is perfectly paced and never has you looking away from the stage for a second. Obviously, having the Bard as the source material gets you off to a flyer, but, all the same the play is handled with great warmth and affection. Even if you are not a fan of Will's works, you will be drawn in by the actors and how they manage to flood the stage with both humour and sheer joy.

So, do yourself a favour and treat your loved one(s) to a Ticket. You will be in the good books for some time to come, I promise thee.

On Quoting Shakespeare by Bernard Levin

If you cannot understand my argument, and declare ``It's Greek to me'', you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger; if your wish is farther to the thought; if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a fool's paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then - to give the devil his due - if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then - by Jove! O Lord! Tut tut! For goodness' sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! - it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.

Bernard Levin

Dear Diary

Looking through some old boxes in the cellar, I came across an old notebook that I had used as a diary, come ideas sketch pad throughout my travels around this island, Earth. I must have gone through one of my "Year Zero" phases at some stage, as there are only two entries left in it, the rest obviously having been dispatched to various waste bins around the globe. Only one of the remaining items is a complete piece, the other being two lines for a song which never made it out of the starting blocks. So, here below, in all it's glory, are my random thoughts and observations made during a trip to New York, Circa 2000, and will give you a glimpse of exactly where my head was at, back then (Man! ~ Counter Culture Ed.).

"There are times when you realise this was not meant to be your day. The street you walk down singles you out as clearly as if you had a neon sign on your head saying "I do not live here, but, I am desperately trying to blend into the background".


"On West 18th Street, a construction worker is wearing exactly the same T-shirt as you. The same T-shirt that you bought last year and thought that you looked so cool in. These are warnings. These are signs that you no longer exude the coolness that comes so naturally, even automatically, with youth. Old passport photos are like sharp sticks prodding your, now plump, body, reminding you that the chances of ever looking that good again are very slim, indeed".


"There are days when you look around and there is not a single person nearby who knows anything about you".

"Sitting outside the Dakota building, thinking about Lennon and singing "In my Life" in your head. A stranger asks to borrow your pen and you feel the moment slip away, almost as if you had never even heard of four lads who shook the world. Then, you are swallowed up in the ceaseless throng of traffic and honking cabs and cold, emotionless faces behind dirty windscreens". Sanitation" reads the sign on the truck, but, you can't help feeling that a little "Salvation" wouldn't go amiss here?"


"The pretty girl on the mobile phone has a smile that can surely travel through the airwaves and, just for a second, you wish that it was you on the other end of the line. Happiness is a Warm Phone".


Obviously, my old pal, low self esteem, was along for ride on that trip. Going forward, the little shit can book his own damn flight...