What a Difference

Well better late than never….

I hear that BBC is going to start showing The Wire soon. It’s seven years since the first one but like any classic it doesn't date and I only started watching a couple of months ago. It’ll be interesting to see if they leave the swearing in. The violence is sparse but as I said before, shocking.

The recent showing of Red Riding on Channel 4 brought into sharp relief for me the difference in quality of TV writing between here and the USA. I stuck with all six hours of that badly written over-stylised piece of crap in the hope that something would happen, it would all come together and everything would be explained. Now I don’t think I’m particularly thick, but the one rule about a whodunit is that you should care who in fact done it. The other rule about drama writing is that if you do leave gaps in the dialogue, you should at least show some visual information. Nothing of the kind was offered here. You felt from the start that you’d come in half way.

You didn’t care about any of the characters (unlike The Wire where everyone was interesting and you wanted to know more). These people were one-dimensional, nasty pieces of work. What a dark view this man has of the world! I regard myself as somewhat of a cynic, but this guy needs therapy.

The dénouement of Red Riding was embarrassingly bad. It was a shame to see the best young actors in the country reduced to appearing in what turned out to be someone’s attempt at A-level fiction. We were informed before every show that the series was based on “the best-selling cult novels” and I wonder just how the author must have felt to see his work reduced to such gimmicky MTV (without the music) trash. TV shows are made by 20 year-olds for middle-aged folk and the sooner they realise that our attention span is somewhat longer than a gnat, the better.

Synchronicity

Not just the name of a very fine Police album, this actually happens to me now and again. Years ago (I’m talking 1980 or thereabouts) it was all things Japanese. I’d just been given Shogun by James Clavell to read by a friend, which is a rollicking good adventure and suddenly everything was Japan, fashion (pale skin, red lips blue-black hair) music and a huge exhibition of samurai artefacts at the British Museum. Then the TV series with of all people Richard Chamberlain who was not how I’d imagined the hero. Never mind. But it does give a good indication of what I mean. This kind of synchronicity seems only to happen to me where the arts are concerned, by which I mean books, TV, music, and in some cases a particular historical moment (my Ancient Greek phase has passed into legend).

At the moment, it’s music. Imagine gentle reader, I’m sitting in my humble living room watching The Wire and thinking, “gosh, this music’s good”, whereupon I surf the web, find a CD compilation of music from said TV series and purchase same. Fast forward a week (exciting, isn’t it?) and I receive the disk, download it onto the iPod and there on the second track is what I can only describe as the VOICE OF GOD.



You heard me. I’m trudging to the bus stop at 8am and then this VOICE comes on and I nearly fall over. Now, I am not given to that kind of behaviour in public (dignity, always dignity) but this man’s voice is so powerful, beautiful and in every sense moving that I have to find out more. His name is Michael Franti, he’s been on the scene (as far as I can tell) for over ten years, making music that speaks to social justice, and love.

This man is fab! Of course, my initial reaction is “he’s gone, no one that radical is allowed to exist in this world for long” but no, he’s still there, he performs at one of Obama’s inauguration balls, and even better, HE’S COMING HERE!!!! (Manchester Academy in July). Oh My God (the name of the track that caught me and one I would thoroughly recommend for a nano-lesson in recent American history).

Synchronicity, see?

Mutton Dressed as Lamb?

Why are women of a certain age dressing like trailer trash teenagers? It’s quite shocking sometimes, you see an extremely overweight middle-aged woman waddling down the street with a skimpy top and cut off trousers (which only models size zero should wear anyway). Do they not possess full-length mirrors? I know it’s not easy to get smart stylish clothes for any age now, there seems to be a surfeit of cheap fabrics, soiled looking jeans and bad haircuts around, but what people forget is you have to be a) stick thin and b) incredibly beautiful to get away with it. To see women who I am sure are quite aware of how horrific they look in clothes that no one over the age of 16 should wear is sad. Even normally sensible women (see Janet Street-Porter pictured) have made horrendous mistakes.

One reason is that since the doyen of shops for the middle aged woman – M&S – decided to wring as much money out of us as possible by dividing their shops into “designer” units, it’s become harder to find decent clothes. Now I am definitely not the twin set and pearls type, I want to look good as anyone does, but really!

Then there are the “style consultants” like Trinny and Suzanne, who I’m sure have a good laugh in the privacy of their mansions laughing at how gullible and desperate women can be. Yet another horror is that “10 years younger” programme, which takes very plain ladies and tarts them up to look like newly retired whores. On top of that, there is the humiliating format which calls for people to insult a woman in the street. Can you imagine any man allowing himself to be treated like this?

I think the whole issue may be because of the fact that the people responsible for fashion and media really hate women. If you factor in that thought, you can see why those TV programmes exist and why nothing flattering is designed for women who have gone beyond puberty or who have any breasts, never mind may be older that 16.

Of course the really cruel side of this is that it is we middle-aged women who suffer most from this type of fashion. Because it is harder to stay slim in your 40s and 50s, the fashion as it is today looks even more grotesque on anyone overweight (which, let’s be frank, includes nearly all of us). There are obviously some very disturbed people in the fashion and media industries who have serious issues with their mother. But to take it out on the rest of us is unnecessarily cruel, don’t you think?

There has never been a time when women of a certain age could be regarded as attractive, until now. In the recent past (the 1970s springs to mind as a good example) to be 40+ and a woman was to cease to exist. There were no role models on TV any woman having the nerve to age being discreetly removed from in front of the camera. Nowadays there are one or two, but Madonna?? Deary me, that taught tense body, that mean tight face, I don't call that growing old gracefully.

But, be fair, she and her peers are pathfinders for a new way. They are the women who will make the mistakes for us. You never know, one day being and older woman will be something to look forward to, a golden time when a sense of style and comfort in one's skin are the rewards for a life well-lived.

Oh You Pretty Things

Long long ago, in a galaxy far far away… well, that’s what the world feels like to me nowadays. You start to feel like everything is beginning to move away from you, the fashion, the culture, the mood. Of course, every generation since Adam has probably felt like this. In fact, I seem to remember reading Socrates moaning about the younger generation back in 5,000 BC. Plus la change…What I notice most these days is the complete lack of courtesy and basic good manners you see nowadays. People seem to have a very sketchy idea of personal space and the queue is fast disappearing as a great British tradition. Doors are often slammed in your face and if you hold a door open, you very rarely get a “thank you”. I feel a theory coming on…

And it's this- most young people aged 16-26 have been raised by child minders. This has a double effect. One is that the bond between mothers and their children is not as strong as it used to be. In some cases, babies as young as three months old are given to child minders. It’s probably not surprising therefore that this lack of a strong bond can lead to disfunction. We see it all around us. The second effect is the almost psychotic need for attention that young people nowadays seem to have. Any psychiatrist will tell you that this stems from not feeling special as an infant. Most full-time mums can obviously give more time to their children if they are with them all day, but a harassed, busy woman you only see for a couple of hours a day is not going to have the time to read to you, let alone make you feel like the unique individual you are. Look around at all the “stars” in the street, the amount of completely untalented young people on TV and the sheer confidence of the most excruciatingly bad singers you get on talent shows. This is “over-compensation” on an extreme scale, a general psychosis.

How to fix this? Not easy, since people’s expectations have risen so high. When I was a child most women stayed at home because they simply weren’t educated well enough to earn a living. That is why most women married, you couldn’t run a home on a woman’s wage even in the 1960s and 70s. It’s not that different now, most women earn between 17% and 20% less than men on average. Luckily, more women today are educated well enough to earn decent money. There’s no financial incentive to get married anymore. I wonder what the next generation of women will do, when they realise that “having it all” means “having to do it all” and decide that they don’t want to play?

Bodymore Murdaland

Yes, I've probably got to the incredible HBO series "The Wire" much to late and all you sophisticates out there are rolling your collective eyes at such tardiness. Nevertheless, I now know that there are 2 kinds of people in the world, those who've seen The Wire and those poor unfortunates who haven't. I am now in the throes of complete obsession, downloading interviews, biogs, pictures (mind you given the contents of the attached, do you blame me?)

Just got the music too. Fab toons all round, including one that actually nearly made me fall down! Now that hasn't happened to me in many a long year.

The Wire is one of those hallmark TV shows that makes everything before it look incredibly dated. In the same way that Deadwood (another great creation of HBO's) did, it just makes all other cop shows irrelevant.

Based in Baltimore, Maryland (the title of this blog is actually graffiti'd on a wall in the projects in Baltimore), the stories are lesiurely and complex, there's no spurious shedding of blood unnecesarily and yet it is one of the most violent dramas I have ever witnessed. The casual taking of a life is shockingly portrayed and no quarter is offered explaining any of the cultural refereences of life on the street, in the schools or in the courts in that troubled town.

I bought the entire set, all 5 seasons. After watching the first one I just had to. I am now a Wire evangelical, preaching whenever I get the chance.

The subject of the above picture is Idris Elba, a british-born actor who plays a very compelling drug kingpin in The Wire. He caused an absolute sensation in America and at 6' 5" you can imagine why.

This is not over! The wire will continue. Anyone wanting to comment/share please do, the more obsessive the better.

Yo

A Sad Goodbye

A Sad Goodbye

A very dear old friend has died and I go to her funeral on Wednesday. Eve was an extraordinary person, strong yet fragile, extremely funny and at the same time there was a sad vulnerability about her.

Some old friends from my London days will be there too. I expect we’ll meet up with the usual cries of “you haven’t changed a bit” and then after a quick catch up will fall silent as we remember why we’re there.

Eve had no family to speak of. Her dad died not long after WW2 and her mum in the mid 1980s. She had a sister, a rather strange woman who had no interest in Eve at all and it turns out moved house without even letting Eve know. Sad. And that’s the word that keeps coming back to me. Yet there was so much laughter during our friendship, squeals and howls and hoots of it. We had great times together, not only us two, but with our husbands, John (mine) and Keith. Keith was a real character also, extremely charming and bright, an ex-public schoolboy who seemed to know everything. He was always so attentive to Eve and her friends would always joke with her “can I have him when you’re finished?”. You can imagine our shock (not to mention Eve’s) when he killed himself. Initially, we all thought it was money, the house was due to be repossessed and he was in enormous debt with credit cards. His business folded too and he was actually looking for work.

I was very close to Eve during that sad time, helping as much as I could, but her breakdown was as complete as it was inevitable. Poor thing, she just couldn’t deal with all the negative information coming through about Keith after his death. I don’t think anyone could. It was a tidal wave of bad news, one thing after another, until she finally was sent into hospital where she could be cared for.

She recovered well during her 6-month stay in hospital and eventually started to pick up the pieces of her life. She started work, made new friends and when John and I eventually returned up north I left feeling she was okay.

We kept in touch, visited each other but things eventually went bad again for Eve. Her health began to deteriorate and she left her job. She became very depressed and I suggested therapy (which I’d had myself) but she didn’t like the idea of telling a stranger about her life. I think she may have felt guilty about Keith (without any justification) and it is one of the many tragedies of her life that had she gone into therapy she would have discovered that her feelings were completely natural.

After a while though we stopped ringing each other. The last time I spoke to Eve, she was very low and sounded as if she was on drugs. The next few times I rang her, she didn’t want to speak for long. I told her to ring me when she could but she never did. How lame it all sounds, but that’s what happens in life, you lose touch, time runs on and your life takes over, stuff happens that takes all your attention and then, out of the blue, you hear of the death of someone who meant a lot to you.

So I’ll go to the funeral on Wednesday and say a last goodbye to Eve. It will be mingled with tears and laughter, her memory bittersweet.