Plans, they are for changing...

As you may know Sunday evenings usually find me at my meditation group. That's how I stay sane, in a nutshell!

Changing plans, second (third, fourth etc) opinions, changing minds, blurting out stuff (from my gob, via text and email) without really thinking about it first then apologising, admitting when wrong. Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep and yep. All of the above.

So, my afternoon involved a delightful drive down to my homeland of North Nottinghamshire, via South Yorkshire & North Derbyshire on the wonder that is the M1 motorway. It was really a rather pleasant drive in the Smarty Car (aka Vital Vehicle - midnight blue and silver, reg plate V4 VTL, gizza a wave or honk if you see me tootling around please - our PR biz is called Vital Communications for those who might not know). Smarts aren't for the faint-hearted either, things can get a little hairy on windy days, so wits all about you are most definitely required. However, they are also ace on fuel, low emissions, and surprising people by burning them off at traffic lights or roundabouts. They have the equivalent of a 1.6 engine in the casing of something the size of a large shoebox, so thrust isn't a problem. G-force sometimes is though!

Thankfully there weren't too many middle lane huggers around today either. My dear Mum is one so I can't have a go, and I do understand with most it's a nerves thing. My Aunty Patricia won't drive on the motorway - never has - and many people try and persuade her otherwise. I for one am very thankful that she doesn't and wish more people could have her honesty. There are definitely some lunatics out there. I don't drive when stressed, upset or angry. That's what cabs, trains and feet are for. Don't quite do buses though, not any more!

I'm going to have to take a short break, as my friend David Moore is just about to arrive for a much needed Sunday evening catch-up. Back soon.

OK back now.

David means 'beloved' if you're interested. Moore needs no explanation I fear - read yesterday's David if you're intrigued! He has promised to be the first person to post a comment, we shall see. I am offering prizes for the first, funniest and most poignant. Come on guys, you're a talented funny bunch, you must have something to share too!

So about David Moore, and he won't mind me saying any of this, cos I've asked his permission again. David Moore is interesting, good-looking (in a Marti Pellow-esque sense). He's single, a successful recruitment consultant and former journalist. He thinks he wasn't good enough to make it further. I said only he thought that. He might be re-thinking. He's into creativity, spirituality, culture, has his own recently-purchased new swanky flat. He's 37.

Would you like to form an orderly queue girls?! He's my friend - was an aquaintance, but we've bonded over going through some frighteningly similar situations recently - and that's more important. Defo.

He's nearly ready to go back on the joy that is 'the market' - send me an email if you're interested. I'd make a fantastic and ever-so-slightly romantic pimp I think you'll agree!

I also owe him for 40 fags, but then I did give him some lovely Chablis and a couple of nice, but belated birthday gifts, so I reckon we might be quits love!

So, anyway, back to earlier...

It was at the 'The Hostess' in Sookholme, just through Mansfield Woodhouse. I drove through and past many delightfully-named places - allow me to indulge myself for a short while if you will..

Miles of Smiles - Car Showroom
Wok Wonder - needs no explanation
Glapham - village
The Star - pub
Little Cherubs - nursery
Sure Start centre - which my dear Mum has been instrumental in getting off the ground on her turf
Royal Catch - chippy

I could go on, much much more, but I think you get the picture.

Incidentally there are few pieces of new technology that I don't own. One is a blackberry. I need a break sometimes. And so do you. The other is a TomTom. I prefer directions from The AA, maps, road atlases, my sense of direction (which I've got from Fran), and a sense of adventure. It does mean I'm frequently late, lost and in places I didn't intend to be in. But that only serves to make life more interesting I find.

I also love to follow signs - road ones this time - they are there for a reason and people get paid an awful lot of money for putting them there. Sometimes they are a bit rubbish, but generally they do a job of work. Not sure about the fairly recently additions to our motorway network. The ones that tell you how many miles and minutes it will take to get to a certain junction. Freaky biscuits. How do they know how fast I'm going?! Big Brother gone bonkers or people being too clever for their own good?

I drive a Smarty Car which tops out at 85 mph, it's to do with the length apparently. Isn't everything? Sorry, couldn't resist!

I did once, however, get my girly racer red Corsa - Ruby Tuesday (she was red and I got her on a Tuesday) - up to 127mph on a fantastically straight and flat stretch of the A1 just past Harrogate, but that's another story for another day. And it was before the days of our speed camera culture too.

Gosh, I don't half digress...

So, dear Fran's 'retirement' (she does still work part-time for North Nottinghamshire College as a Community Consultant, as well as being on various other committees - too many to mention now, she, like the rest of you, deserves her own individual posting) saw another key highlight this afternoon/early evening...

The bash was actually the eighth anniversary charter event for The Rotary Club of Worksop Dukeries, a club which my dear Mum is President of this year. Can you start to see why my fundamental need to 'get involved' comes from?!

The lovely chap who gave one of the many - funny - speeches referred to my Mum (as did everyone else who spoke publicly) as President Fran. Sometimes President Fan, when he fluffed his lines. This chap incidentally is know for wheeling out the same joke about an accountant and a shepherd at every gig he does, so my Mum presented him with a book 'A Man Walks Into A Bar...' - she had carefully researched and it only had two accountant jokes in it! Class.

So, me and Jennie, very childishly, got the giggles EVERY time 'President Fran' was quoted and thanked. You will be known as that for quite a while now Mum!

We had a lovely dinner - I arrived late and had to order very promptly on arrival. Choosing food is never a problem. Garlic deep-friend mushrooms, roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding (with horseradish that clears your nasal passages of course), and a cheese platter instead of a pud. It's a good way of making friends too I find - let them have their sweet fix, eat a bit of cheese, then pass it round!

Jen, as usual, got starter-envy and we shared a bit - she had a mushroom (they were big), I had a bit of her smoked salmon roulade. 'The Hostess' is fab and very well-priced to boot. Please drop in if you're ever out that way.

So, to my table-sharers...

David Fish has to take the prize for most entertaining. Jewish (I think I was in a former life, Oi Va Voi is a fave Jewish rock ensemble - KT Tunstall used to be their support act and I had a lovely chat with her a few years ago at Band on the Wall in Manchester. I also have a signed copy of 'Throw Me A Rope' "Dear Clancy, now you can play it all the time, love KT" X. Delightful. Big fan of La Tunstall - saw her at Leeds Uni a couple of weeks ago, she's still got it going on of course. Her chart stuff is fab, but you only get to see her true talent when you see her layering her own backing track by hitting her guitar, 'who-hooing' and clapping and clicking into a four-way. Then singing over it.

David Fish was to my left - he runs a few businesses and is a 'fingers in pies' person much like me. Jennie was to my right, and quite frequently made me nearly choke on my food! Through laughing of course. There were five other delights, but now is neither the time nor the place...

For anyone who thinks that Rotarians are just a bunch of faux do-gooders and sticky beaks (which I will freely admit I thought before) please allow me to share their values and 'sense-checks' before they get involved with anything...

"Of the things we think, say and do:

Is it the TRUTH?
Is it FAIR to all concerned?
Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?
Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned"

The use of CAPS is theirs this time, not mine.

Couldn't put it better myself really. I grew up with dear Fran as a member of the Soroptimists, which she was also President of at one point - think when I was about 10. It's not about being a pointless do-gooder or 'meaning well'. If you are in a position to help others, that's just what you do.

My dear Dad was much the same...

I remember him once coming home in a bit of a tizz and asking for help. One his football stars (Dad was big into English, History, Geography, Maths and PE - which was his last posting as Head of Boys PE at a school in a disadvantaged area of Chesterfield) hadn't been at school for a few days, so Bob called round one day on his way home to check everything was OK. The young lad didn't come down to the door but answered from an opened upstairs window "I'm fine Mr Walker, I just don't have any shoes to wear so can't come out at the moment. Mum should be getting some money next week though."

Dad needed our help to pull out clothes from his wardrobe and for us to check if we'd seen him wear them for work. If he had then he couldn't give them to the lad, because people might remember.

My dear Dad was also known for his legendary assemblies. One he told us of involved two skulls, I think they were Shakespeare's but am willing to be corrected. He stood up to an enthralled gathering as he showed them Shakepeare's skull as a young boy. He then got out Shakepeare's skull as an adult. Some kids got it straight away, others took a bit of clicking. How is your young boy's/girl's skull. Do you have it in a closet somewhere?!

Mr David Fish will be at my birthday bash. We are very similar but my dear Mum needn't worry. As lovely as he is and as into older chaps as I am, 61 slightly pushes my boundaries. Sorry David, hope you understand and aren't offended. Hope you will still come on February 16th too. You are delightful and someone I would like to consider as a friend. We both love cheese too!

So, speeches aside, the rest of the bash involved some stunning performances. I had intended to leave by 6pm to get back for meditation, but I soon realised that some of the acts I had seen before at 'Bassetlaw Showtime' which dear Fran organised last year. A cabaret evening - with local school kids as the stars. I just couldn't leave.

Robin Woodhead, who is the headteacher at the Priory School, reminds me a lot of Peter Faulkner - my fave teach of all time. He wears crazy waistcoats, plays many instruments and teaches recorder, but now to pop backing tracks. Though the girls did do a mean rendition of 'Amazing Grace' and 'Over the Sea to Skye' which were two of my faves in recorder club at school.

They also now do 'Reach for the Stars' by S-Club - quality stuff.

Bella Tennant, Harriet Rawson, Thomas Keogh, Natasha Austin and Liam Waterhouse were the names of our entertainers this evening. The latter three being at the Worksop Post-16 Centre (which before they ripped down the old stuff and built the new - which was long overdue, it couldn't be rescued I'm afraid - was known as Valley Sixth Form, where yours truly went).

Big respek to the post-16 crew. I stopped all creativity and culture for about five years - from the age of 13 to about 18, when I just couldn't stop myself again really. Before that - from the age of two (my parents asked special permission for me to go to Sunday School a bit earlier than most as I was a precocious brat too gobby for her own good and they needed a morning off) I was BIG into Sunday School (loved the stories and drawing), Brownies, Guides, piano lessons etc. Piano lessons then gave way - at about nine or ten - to Saturday Art School, Saturday Drama School - and then of course boys. I did really try with piano lessons but it was never my gift - unlike the rest of my family, yes all of 'em - and they didn't have clay, paint, theatre trips or other boys and girls at piano lessons. Katherine Chapman was a fab, and very patient, teacher though and I still do a mean 'Swans & Ducks' when prompted! I got to Grade One at practice and Grade Six at theory. My examiner at Grade One practice was called Ivor Keys. I absolutely swear this is Gospel. You can't make this stuff up!

I was in the chorus for 'Joseph' in my first year at Valley School - but then boys, fitting in and eventually fags and booze became much more of an attraction. I have learned my lesson now of course. The whole lot can be combined - as long as you regularly meditate, chill out and sleep. Which I'm doing again thankfully. This blog is fab therapy too. If anyone is reading it's a nice bonus really!

Got back into it all aged 18 when cast as first Patty Simcox in Grease then, thanks to Charlotte Smith (also a curly ginge) dropping out as her choir was touring Japan, as Frenchy. I dipped in and out for years after, but not so fussed about acting any more...!

So, the other peformances of tonight included:

Can You Feel The Love Tonight
A Whole New World - much better job than Peter Andre and Katie 'Jordan' Price/Andre (have a few IDs myself so not knocking)
Any Dream Will Do
Close Every Door To Me
Search for the Hero (recorders only)

And, drum roll..Miss Bella Tennant singing 'Castle on a Cloud' dressed as Cosette from Les Mis.

I blubbed, as did Jen, as did Fran when Robin said "that's a small thank you from the young people of Worksop for all that you do Fran".

I bet none of those kids were told "but you can't sing Clancy" when he heard that I'd asked my Mum to take me and my friend Alison Carlton to audition for the Mini Pops in Manchester. You couldn't get away with the Mini Pops these days could you?!

Please don't feel sorry for me - I was about nine or 10 when this happened and it obviously didn't stop me. Just slowed me down for a while. Bob Walker was not a bad Dad or person. He just really struggled to let his humour and writing talents shine without a drink inside him. He battled with his demons for many years and passed on aged 56 when I was 18 (nearly 19) and Jen was just 12 - the same age he was when he lost his father.

He just didn't want me to embarass myself is all. But he's taught me many a valuable lesson. Including helping me to realise that embarassment, like success and happiness, is an inside job.

Of course I like a drink with the best of you - and quite frequently do - but I don't NEED to. Like my dear Fran. I just enjoy it is all.

I'm not doing it for the sympathy, I just hope you can see I'm writing all this down to clear some head space, but more importantly to share and show you that there are many people who understand that life can seem very very hard sometimes; You've all got your own precious important stories and I know that. Mine aren't any worse or better than anyone else's.

I maintain I would love to know some of yours though. One sign I have noticed really and recently is all the stories I'm getting to hear about others' journeys means I have to write other people's as scripts first, before I write my own.

Another quick incidental, the Worksop Priory (which has Mr Woodhead's wonderful Priory School attached) is where Jennie Laura Walker was christened and where my dear Dad's funeral was held. Both days were packed to the rafters.

Sympathy no. Empathy and compassion yes.

Go on, you know you want to!

Clancy xxxx