Rock of Ages

Last week I went to see the West End musical Rock of Ages. It’s taken me this long to get my thoughts together, and even now I am not sure I’ll be able to do it justice. I’m just not sure if it was any good. Or if, in fact, it was a masterpiece (no, actually, I am pretty sure it wasn’t that), or great campy fun, or mostly a bit shit, or really just flat out offensive. This is what happens when you go to see a show based purely on what songs are going to be in it, and don’t bother to look at the actual plot. Here I can save you that mistake:

A struggling musician (Drew) meets a struggling actress (Sherrie) on the Sunset Strip at some point in the 1980s. They both work in a bar owned by Dennis Dupree (who seems to be stuck in hippie land), develop feelings for each other based on one lame conversation, but end up in the Friend Zone. She sleeps with a rocker (Stacee Jaxx), Drew gets mad, they both make bad career choices and go their separate ways. And there are strippers. And Germans. Protests. Angels. We Built This City. White Snake. A host of other 80s songs and a random award-giving moment. Just when you think it can’t get any crazier a man rips off his suit and does a Jane Fonda routine.

The main problem I had was the offensiveness. I know it’s set in the 80s and therefore we should excuse all this because ‘we didn’t know any better’ (or at least that’s what I assume they’re going for), but it goes from bits I just rolled my eyes at to points where I wasn’t sure if walking out would be the best thing to do. Firstly, there’s the women. So, we’re on the Sunset Strip, it’s not going to be all squeaky clean, but every single one of them is in teeny tiny underwear and writhing across anything that’s stationary (oh I suppose there is one woman who isn’t, the protestor, who is also oddly a hippie). Have you seen Bring It On? You know the bit where they’re doing the tryouts and that girl in red leather hot pants comes in and kicks off her shoes and then shoves her butt in that male cheerleader’s face? Every woman dresses and moves like that in this show. And then there’s the Germans, who are stereotyped to the point of farce, with one who reminded me of Serge from Beverly Hills Cop, but not quite as fabulous. Only remember, he’s not gay, he’s just German.

There is a truly horrible bit where Drew and Sherrie are on a picnic, just before they hit the Friend Zone, and Sherrie is just sitting talking, and the narrator says ‘She may be saying that, but what she’s really thinking is this!’ And up jumps Sherrie, ripping off her shirt to writhe across the hood of Drew’s car like Jessica Simpson and then dry humps Drew’s leg. I don’t care if this is the 80′s, can we not continue to send the message that what a woman says and what a woman means are not the same thing? That actually she is begging for it 24/7? Or, later, that if a rock star acts lonely and misunderstood she will shag him in a bathroom stall, because she’s just that stupid? The women do not get a good rap in this show. It felt like it was written by a 15 year old boy. Or a 40 year old man who can’t get over being a 15 year old boy.

And then there’s the continued randomness of it all. The award moment for one, and at times people showed up in the chorus line I swear we’d never seen, often dressed in bizarre costumes that had nothing to do with the plot. Like the English policeman and the clown/John Wayne Gacey. I went positively hysterical at one point when Dennis and Lonny share a moment over a smoke machine that takes them on a tour of various landmarks. I think my brain had got to the point where it just did not know how to process everything any more, or whether my body wanted to laugh or cry, so it did both. This show is everything AND the kitchen sink, and it doesn’t just break the fourth wall, it breaks ALL THE WALLS! I did however quite enjoy my ‘lighter’ I got on entry to wave when the sad songs played. But basically this is a ‘story’ that has been thrown together much like Mamma Mia!, written to fit around the songs, but with Bon Jovi instead of Abba.

OK, so…good stuff? Even though he was kind of the biggest culprit when it came to being offensive, I sort of loved the narrator, Lonny. The guy playing him was obviously having the best time, and he did get to do some genuinely funny bits. He had a good voice and moves and was definitely entertaining. And the guy playing Drew had a phenomenal voice. The cast did a brilliant version of Here I Go Again on My Own, which almost made the whole thing worthwhile.

I did not like Sherrie though. It’s hard to when she’s blonde and perky and has a squeaky voice and no personality to speak of, dressed up in tiny outfits. She’s given almost nothing to do except gyrate. I imagine I am supposed to feel sorry for her at certain points in the show, but I just couldn’t find it in me. Oh, and all the American accents, as is usual with West End shows it seems, were DREADFUL.

I obviously can’t call this a ringing endorsement, but I wouldn’t say you should definitely not go and see it. Most of the audience seemed to be having a brilliant time. I’m just not convinced.

And I Have to Live With a BOY!

You know what I miss? Being in an office where my computer faced a wall. Ah the days of being able to go on the internet and have no one know. Not that I ever blogged while I was at work or anything, pfft…I also miss having an internet at home that isn’t shit. I swear, Virgin Broadband is balls. I can usually get online for about five minutes, and then it goes off. I have tried everything. Sometimes it’ll let me on some websites, so I can check Hotmail (yes I do still use Hotmail. At least it’s not Yahoo!), but it seems against WordPress for some reason. Possibly it is tired of the drivel I write here and is launching a protest. But hah! Here I am anyway internet hater, so suck it.

So…Things you may have missed:

• I’m moving in with a boy. It has only taken us ten years of knowing each other to get to this stage. Hey, we’re both commitment-phobes, this is amazing progress for us. I told my flatmates I was moving out and they cared not a jot. Which is not unexpected. But they will miss me when there’s no toilet roll, and the bathroom hasn’t been cleaned, and they are freezing because they don’t know how to use the heating, and their bills haven’t been paid…Anyway, hopefully it will be mid-October when we do move, and we don’t have a place yet. I stress about moving and the possibility of being homeless, because I am a stress head in general, but I am sure it will be fine. I am not stressing out about moving in with Max though. I am ridiculously looking forward to it in fact. Hey, as a commitment-phobe you have to be impressed with me about this. It will just be so lovely to come home and have someone to hang out with, someone who wants to spend time with me, and who I can cook with and have dinner with, instead of sitting off in my room by myself or being ignored. I won’t have to yell at him any more for watching things without me and I won’t have to carry my possessions around on my back when I want to see him, I can just go home. Sure, it’ll probably be weird living with him in the beginning, and since I like my own space there’ll be times he does my head in, and vice versa, but I am sure we’ll be ok really.

• I went to see Rock of Ages. I really do need to write a proper review of it, because it is is mental. My brain still hasn’t got to grips with everything that went on in that show.

• I went to a pub quiz last night. I did really well, guessing that Polo is the sport you’re not allowed to use your left hand in, South Pacific is the musical featuring Happy Talk, Old man of the forest is an Orangutan, and that a cruciverbalist is a crosswords enthusiast. Though I am peeved about that last one because no one believed me! Oh yes, it is more likely to be someone who makes crucifxes. We didn’t win, and I don’t know where we came because there were so many teams they only did last place and top three.

• I wrote an article for Inside Line magazine, a derby mag, and the first one in the UK. I also helped out with the sub editing. My copy came this week and it looks fab.

• Roller derby is going ok. I am trying to pretend my first bout is not coming up and not get stressed about it, even though on the night itself I will probably want to puke. We have had a couple of team meetings and talked strategy, and we’ll have t shirts with our names and numbers – though mine won’t be a derby name. I still don’t have one. I don’t mind so much about us winning though. It will just be good to see what a bout is like, and hopefully survive it. And then at the end of October I am going to a weekend derby bootcamp, which I am really looking forward to, though it will be knackering I’m sure.

And those are the highlights, if they can be called that. Hey, I never said my life was interesting.

In Which I Refuse to Use a Predictable Title

I would be a lot better at keeping up with this blog if I didn’t have the world’s worst internet at home. It allows me to look at some websites but others it can’t muster the energy for. After weeks of trying to sort it out I have just about given up. This is what it’s come to, the fact that I can get online at all is seen as a blessing. I was going to write about going home to Yorkshire for the weekend, and the difference between my weekend and Max’s, since he was at the Big Chill hanging out with Kanye West (AKA, walking past Kanye West) and I was at an altogether different kind of festival (my brother playing in an empty field for charity). But since London has gone to hell in my absence I sort of feel I should mention it.

I wasn’t in London when the shooting happened last Thursday in Tottenham, and I wasn’t here for the first night of the rioting. I got back on Monday afternoon, preparing to go to derby practice that evening and keeping a wary eye on the news. As I was taping up my toes (new skates will be had soon, oh yes) I got a text telling me practice was cancelled due to the riots. Though the area we practice in was fairly quiet, it was kicking off in surrounding areas, and they wanted us to be safe. See, derby love peeps. I’d had a text from a friend saying my neck of the woods was allegedly a target, and to be careful. Now, I live in Stoke Newington, it’s like the least likely place to be hit by a mob you could ever see. It’s full of yummy mummies with designer pushchairs and people who get up in arms when a Nando’s opens. But coming home on Monday I saw a street that was closing up shop, shutters down and a weird, tense air. Later I heard that shopkeepers were standing outside their properties with bats, ready to fend off any attacks, but I don’t know how true this is.

And there lies a problem with what’s gone on in the past few days: rumour and speculation. If you looked up ‘Stoke Newington’ on Twitter, you’d see half the people there saying it was calm and all ok, and the other half shouting about cars on fire, and that a friend of a friend had said it was all kicking off, that 300+ gangs were descending, that danger was around every corner. There was nothing of the sort, and it’s this kind of reporting, without checking the facts, that I don’t like about Twitter. It’s great for getting information out, but you have to be careful not to believe everything you read. I think some people were just getting off on being able to incite fear.

I’m not even going to attempt to go into why these riots happened, or why they’ve spread, since smarter people than me have all had a go. But I will say that I think that it’s disgusting, and that I cannot imagine what it’s like to be one of those people whose entire lives were destroyed over the weekend when their homes were set on fire. I don’t know who those rioters were sticking it to, but it certainly shouldn’t have been these people.

I am hoping it’s going to calm down now and things will get back to normal, but that somebody, somewhere, at least learns something from it, whatever it is that needs to be learned.

The Grandmother Gene is Strong Today

Last night I went to a sewing class at Homemade London. It was a beginner’s class on how to use a sewing machine, because my lovely mother bought me a mini machine for Christmas and I haven’t yet used it owing to Fear. This may come from the fact that the last time I got any kind of sewing machine, somewhere back in the far reaches of a Christmas Eve when I was maybe about eight years old, I promptly fell on it and broke it. There I was all giddy about it and within three seconds of removing the wrapping paper I had crushed some fundamental part of it rendering it useless. I did not get a replacement and that was that. But here is my chance to redeem myself, twenty+ years later. I’m just giving myself a fighting chance with an expert’s help.

The shop was very cute and you walk in to a table full of machines and someone offers you a cup of tea. And there were donuts and other goodies, so what’s not to love about that? We went through threading the machine and winding your bobbin up, and then we were off practicing on scraps of cotton. I was going very slowly because speed seemed like a bad idea, but I mostly managed to sew a straight line. And then we started to make a little bag, complete with ironing lines in the fabric to make our sewing straighter. This worked well in theory but then I was in charge and it all went a bit wrong. I managed to rectify it a bit but there is a wonky line of stitches. Still, for my first go I don’t think I did too badly:

I also got two hours of their sewing cafe time with the class, so I can go by again with some fabric and use their machines to work on another project. I may attempt a cushion cover next, and then hopefully will know enough to try quilting. But let’s not got ahead of ourselves.

Anarchy in the UK

This weekend was a big deal for the London Roller Girls. They were hosting the first WFTDA (Women’s Flat Track Derby Association) tournament to be hosted outside the US, and they were taking on three kick-ass teams. Charm City Roller Girls from Baltimore; Montreal’s New Skids on the Block; and Steel City Derby Demons from Pittsburgh. I had volunteered to help out on the Saturday, something I came to regret come 7.30 am as I mourned the loss of my lie in. Plus the early part of the day didn’t go as well, with stressed out people issuing orders that were contradicted and a sort of chaotic feel to the whole thing. Thankfully it sorted itself out and I settled in to a full day (I wasn’t working the Sunday so didn’t have as many breaks as those doing both. My cries of ‘But I have a weekend ticket so I’m basically paying to volunteer’ were ignored. Fair enough) of door stewarding, wet spot (cleaning up spills basically) and guarding the ref area, which was the least fun place to be. Freezing and alone in a Twilight Zone you may get lost in. I got to see some of the first day’s bouts, and most of the first London Brawling, which was nice, but if they ever do another of these I may stump up for the VIP bean bag seats and spend the weekend watching instead. Fun was had, don’t get me wrong, but it was a long day.

I got home exhausted and collapsed in to bed, deciding that if I didn’t wake up at a reasonable hour I’d skip the first bout on Sunday, even if it was London playing. But of course my body had other ideas and woke me at 7 am, so off to ExCel I went. I’m actually glad I did, as the whole day was excellent. I am sad to say that London Brawling didn’t win any of the bouts, but I think you could see a significant improvement over the weekend, from their first to last. Whether that was down to playing better/worse teams I don’t know, but if nothing else they’ll take a lot away from the tournament.

Steel were my least favourite of the bunch. They had some great players and are obviously very good, but they seemed to be having less fun with it than some of the other teams. Also, towards the end they started playing mainly defense, with the jammer pitching in to stop ours scoring any points, which meant no one was. I understand these are good tactics, but it’s extremely boring to watch, and they had a decent enough lead that they could have risked it and just played the game.

Charm seem to be the best, but I didn’t know that going in and was rooting for them since they’re from Maryland, and I think it’s ok that I do so. Montreal were definitely the most fun, with their neon outfits and dances and Plastic Patrick, their announcer. I liked them a lot, and their jammer, Iron Wench, was frickin awesome. I also had a soft spot for Georgia W. Tush. What a name.

There were some London Brawling players I was surprised about, the ones I always notice and root for and seem to be the best of the best within the LRG. Quite a few of these didn’t make much of an impact here. I know the other teams are at a different level, and that only by playing the best can LRG hope to get better, but I expected more from some of them.  On the other hand, there were players that had never really registered with me before that seriously made an impression. There was That Jam by Vagablonde, where she scored something like 30 points. It was amazing to watch and I screamed my head off the whole time. Vagablonde is a player that’s kind of been under my radar. I knew she was a solid player, but I just haven’t noticed her that much. That all changed this weekend. She totally blew me away. And Stefanie Mainey was as good as ever. They need a whole team who can block as good as she can.

We had some drama at one point on Saturday when Ewan Wotarmy from Montreal went down on the track and didn’t get up. She had to be stretchered off, but by Sunday she was ok and playing again. Phew!

I got home again last night totally exhausted, but hoping maybe one day (maybe maybe) I’ll be good enough to play in public. It’s a nice little day dream to have, if nothing else. Also, playing has really helped me understand the game better when I watch it, knowing why they’re calling off a jam, when they need to slow down the pack and all that. It’s better than the first bout when I got the basic gist but had no idea what was going on for a lot of it. Not that I know all the rules yet, there are mountains of them.

So well done London Roller Girls, you did a fantastic job.

Fresh Meat: Week Eight

Practice this week felt brutal. I don’t think it was any more punishing than last week, but I was shattered afterward. I’d been feeling a little off it that morning, really tired and not wanting to get up, and then started feeling sick just before I had to go out. Not sure what was up there, but I did think about not going, and then thought about getting off the train at each stop and going home to bed. But I pushed on and I’m glad I did, as I felt better once there and skating.

A lot of what we do now is going over what we’ve done before, and maybe adding in one new skill to try. So it was falls and stops (no I haven’t yet mastered the T stop and I don’t want to talk about it) and we did the dreaded 25 in 5 again. I really wasn’t looking forward to it, given how I’d been feeling, but this time I was in the first group which I was glad about. I managed 22 laps, so lost half a lap, but I’m ok with that. Here I go blaming other things again, but there were far more of us on the track at once this week, and I do feel it slowed me down. There were times when someone was in front of me that I didn’t have the energy to speed up and get past, but if they weren’t there I could have gone faster. If that makes sense? Obviously I’ll never be in a situation where there’s just me on track doing these laps, but less than 10-12 of us would be nice. Whining aside, I am hoping to up my fitness and make it to a solid 23 laps next practice.

We did more pack work and pace lines again, and worked on some lateral skating. I’m not so good at that at the moment. And we did backwards weaving within the pace lines, which sounds harder than it actually was. It’s mostly just stepping to the side and through the next skater as they go past. And we did some jumping over cones. This is something I wish I was good at, because it looks cool when people jump high in skates, but I’m not there yet. It still scares me. I am carrying falling fear from the time I almost broke my butt. I need to get over it. I am getting better though. I think.

That’s one of the nice things about it all actually, that I can see that I’m making progress and doing ok. I was in the fast group of skaters when we were doing pace lines, I’m sturdier on my skates, my crossovers are pretty solid, and even my jumps have less wonky landings. When I think back to that first day at Earl’s Court and how hard (almost impossible) everything seemed, I’ve definitely come a long way. And I can only keep getting better with practice.

There’s no training next week because of Anarchy in the UK, but I’ll be there on the Saturday as a volunteer and then on the sidelines on the Sunday cheering on the LRG. It’s going to be epic!

Awesome!

 

Massive bout in April, and tickets go on sale this weekend. So excited! More details about the event here.

Fresh Meat: Week Three

I feel like I’m much improved this week. I managed to do a plough stop!! This may not seem a big deal but it was getting to the point where I was worried I’d never get there. My T Stops are still shaky but also feel a bit better about them.

We mostly went over the same things this week, just making sure we’re all getting them right, and getting our bodies used to falling and balancing on our wheels. The roller girls taking the practice this week were Ninjette, Lola Vulkano and Sinister Mary Clarence. Again they were all incredibly lovely, and Lola especially helped me with my plough stop. She was very encouraging and patient and it definitely made a difference. The most helpful tip was not looking at my feet when stopping, keeping my head up. And with the T Stop my balance was an issue (isn’t it always?), even though I can skate on one leg. As soon as I have to do something with the other leg, I lose it. Pointing with your arm in the direction you want to go really helps with that.

The new thing we tried this week was jumps. Scary. And I get how they’re supposed to be done, I just have to get over The Fear. Not helped by the fact that on one of my first goes I fell backwards and hit my butt on my skate. Hard. Oh that hurt. And yet I know to FALL FORWARDS!! It’s one of the first things we learned. My body hasn’t quite got to grips with this yet. My butt is kinda ok, if I sit in a certain way, but if I hit the sweet spot where I caught it with my wheel it’s take your breath away painful. Also, sneezing is not good.

I am still hoping we’ll find somewhere in the week to practice skating, as I really need to be on my wheels more. Possibly when the weather gets better I can skate in the park, but we’ll see. I’ll be missing next week’s practice, so I definitely need to have a go in the week so I don’t fall behind.

I’m still ridiculously enjoying it though.

 

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Roller Derby practice officially starts on Saturday. At 10.30 am. You know I’m committed when I’m happy to leave the house so early on a Saturday. Well not happy about it exactly but not dreading it either. Thankfully I have tomorrow off work and will have a bit of a lie in then. I am looking forward to the practice though. I’ve only been on my skates twice and am not remotely a good skater, but I can stand up and move forwards at a reasonable speed and turn corners. I can’t stop as yet, which I think might come in handy at some point, but I’ll get there.

Monday night I went skating with some of the girls from this intake (and a boy who’ll be a ref) at a club in Manor House. It’s a tiny space with a strip club vibe, poles on the stage and rooms sectioned off with sheer curtains for ‘privacy’ I guess. I was a bit dubious about it walking in, but actually it was pretty neat. There’s not a lot of space and so you’re basically skating in tight circles the whole time, but there are really friendly people there to help you out and give pointers and instruction. It also wasn’t very busy and there weren’t people there showing off their skills. Well, there were but not in a show-offy way like the roller disco in Vauxhall, and they gave you space. I felt a lot more comfortable there and I’ll definitely go back. It helps that it’s only half an hour away from me too. Anyway, I didn’t fall this time and the only casualty was a cheap pair of Primark leggings I ripped while putting my knee pad on. Rather that than a blow to the head.

I’m still not having much luck with the mouth guard situation, but we don’t need them for the first few lessons and I’ll ask around and see what people recommend. I may end up getting one fitted since that seems the best way to go, if I’m going to take this seriously and all.

Pray I don’t break anything on Saturday morning.

The First Fall

Last night I went to a roller disco in Vauxhall to try out my skates properly and to meet some of the girls who are in my training programme. They were all very lovely, and it was nice to see most of them have the same skating ability as me (not that great). The roller disco wasn’t what I was expecting really, as there are two quite small rinks and not all that great music. But since we got there early we had the place mostly to ourselves for a bit, which was nice as I got used to being on wheels again. When it did fill up a bit it was mostly with people like me, ie non-skaters and some who were obviously on skates for the first time. But there were a handful (all men) who were obviously excellent skaters and who took delight in whizzing around the place, skating backwards and doing all sorts of other tricks, which was somewhat annoying since there really wasn’t space for it, and it was intimidating, and one of them made me fall. Yes I am blaming him. I was happily skating along feeling a bit more confident, when this stupid big arse of a man skated onto the rink from outside it (you’re supposed to wait for an opening) and crossed in front and close to me as I was about to turn. I panicked and fell. Hard. The top of my right butt cheek took the brunt, as did my head. Since it was a roller disco and not derby I wasn’t wearing my helmet.

A marshal skated over to see if I was ok and ask if I wanted to see the medic. I said no, and went off to sit down, all shaky and knocked a bit funny, and thinking ‘do I want to see a medic? Natasha Richardson didn’t think she needed one and look what happened there.’ But I am obviously alive and well today so it’s fine. I just have a bruised butt. The first of many I am sure.