Author: bigdunc09

As the mornings and nights darken, and autumn leaves fill the streets, we go back to the start of the summer… twelve weeks is a long time!

So… yeah… she – La Serenissima – was taking us over, and we went to Venice.

Years of anticipation had led up to it. Money was saved, language brushed up on, research done for the day trips into the city… we arrived at Manchester airport, and the first crazy moment occurred on the way out of the toilets and Peter Beardsley was walking towards us – that Elijah was wearing the new away kit, modelled on the one Beardsley starred in for my first away match (Blackburn, September 1992, 3-2 victory) was a happy coincidence, and the little men both loved the kit.

The airport itself was a joy, with a great GF burger at Giraffe, with a loud stag do playing old school house classics as accompanying tunes next door, and despite a scare when we thought we’d lost a passport, it was off to Italy we went, a somewhat hairy flight preceding an electrical storm as we landed at the serene one for a week of Tobias Jones, Spritz, canals and some fantastic entertainment.

The standout memories of our day trips into the city were the remarkable architecture, breathtaking scenery, unforgettable gondola ride and the coolest museum I think I’ve ever been to – Creature di Gomma, replete with toys from my favourite childhood TV series (more of which later!)

Venice was what I expected and so much more. She looked as she’s appeared on screen myriad times: James Bond, Don’t Look Now, Death in Venice, Summertime, much more… and the various documentaries we watched before going, including one about the concerns over its future and the guy whose newsstand washed away in a flood, we met him and he gave me a custard pie.

Much more polite were the wonderful staff at Portofelice, our base for the week, making friends (some of whom I’m still in touch with now) and many memories, spending warm summer days by the pool reading a Gazzetta and drinking a caffe corretto… since returning, we were saddened a little by the bush crash at Maestra and the flooding of St Mark’s Square, which seems to be commonplace now.

Together, we took about a thousand photos, of the boats and the buildings and canals and that amazing fish market and Harry’s Bar (the birthplace of the Negroni) and this one was my favourite:

All in all, then, an unforgettable week.

Home, though, and back to reality. Everton losing regularly, Marine winning impressively, more new kits… nights watching TV rather than judging beauty pageants, revisiting the new series of Only Murders…, and more marvellous This is Us, including a lovely little storyline about a painting in the Met, and for us personally the anecdote of the horse & carriage ride, plus Ahsoka, the clever new Turtles and Trolls movies, and then the best thing we’ve watched (since last time) The Lovers.

Meanwhile, kids were turning ten and seven and losing more teeth, and soon it was time to go back to school. It’s always advisable to sing that Green Day song about waking me up when September ends, but amidst the tough few weeks some little nuggets brightened the mood: the discovery of Slim Chickens, reading the excellent The Descent of Man by Grayson Perry, who actually owns one of my pots after I gave it to him as his alter ego Clare circa 2004; Messi’s start at Inter Miami, the intense and ‘British Bear‘ four parter that was Boiling Point, plus some sumptuous new music by The National…

We had several celebrations, too – double golden weddings, with a This is Us themed speech after an Everton win; birthdays, new season goal sprees in new boots, me even playing football again, an ultimately failed parent governor challenge, and a much anticipated Everton defeat to continue the life affirming journey we’re on.

October came, clear signs of the seasons changing, lovely new Wes Anderson / Roald Dahl films being released, the incredible directorial debut of Misan Harriman (photographer to the stars) a short film on Netflix (The After) and an intriguing new murderous series (Bodies) and the always excellent Breeders well as arguably the best Comic Con, not least because I got to meet another childhood hero, Michael Ironside. Many will know him from Scanners, Starship Troopers, Total Recall (and even This is Us!) but he will forever be Ham Tyler from V for me and whilst Betsy was non plussed, I was in heaven having a selfie with him.

The props and sets were the best yet, too…

Half term finally came, Hallowe’en too (on which night some ruffian robbed our bucket of sweets; I hope it made them sick) and also some art: the brilliant Jeremy Deller interview, This Cultural Life; delicious Tim Spooner retrospective at The Bluecoat – I really liked the cut of his jib, and his hundreds of sculptures and drawings / paintings that filled the gallery – and then my bi-annual visit to the John Moores painting prize, impressive as ever, with my favourite offering being William Drummond’s powerful portrait of a cow (as Damien Hirst might have said about his own bovine masterpiece, it’s very moooving) all punctuated by some great chicchetti at Bacaro where they really looked after us and took us back… to Venice.

Next time: Christmas!

The great Frank Cottrell Boyce, who lives just around the corner, recently admitted that he’s “definitely the biggest and most hyperbolic exaggerator in the entire vast universe” and those of you who know me well might also apply the same description to the present author, especially when it comes to films and TV.

Recently, thanks to a golden age of onscreen entertainment (and a more relaxed marking routine!) there have been several opportunities for me to claim I’d seen ‘the best thing in ages’ and so the first part of this bi-monthly blogging features a few of them.

The first big new arrival was the new series of Black Mirror on Netflix / Streamberry. There were elements of Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation, The Truman Show, An American Werewolf in London and Avatar across the more enjoyable episodes, but the real standout was probably the Red Mirror film Demon 79 in which a member of Boney M inspires a murderous shoeseller in the 1970s in a homage to the horror movies of the time. I’d recommend watching in instalments, as I did, because it’s all pretty intense and takes time to digest (but also because WW doesn’t really like it that much!)

One thing we did enjoy together was the entertaining, quirky Poker Face in which Natasha Lyonne solves crimes using her innate ability to tell when people are lying. Each episode (one of which introduced me to the titular term) sees her in a new job, across myriad parts of America, during which she becomes embroiled in a murder mystery which she then unravels. Slightly more straightforward, meanwhile, were the Messi Destiny documentary, which features a deep insight into the successful World Cup campaign of last Advent, and a revisit of the Rocky films as I went back to my childhood and the joy those classic slugfests brought the younger me.

Then there was Glastonbury – a weekend the younger me would have loved to attend – with seminal sets by old favourites the Courteeners, the somewhat divisive Arctic Monkeys, and the brilliant Rick Astley and Blossoms doing Smiths classics which whetted the appetite for an upcoming concert and reminded me of one of the greatest music videos of all time (and it’s filmed in Morecambe!)

We actually attended our own music festivals last month, too: a perfect performance by B and her choir in church (after which this wonderful photo was taken as we surprised her with our attendance) the excellent Africa Oye in Sefton Park, but left that as the mood changed a little. As we’re still on the theme of music in Liverpool, we discovered we’d stumbled upon the filming of the new Taylor Swift video; I also listened to the brilliant Stanley Tucci episode of Desert Island Discs (cheers for the heads up, Colin) and enjoyed the TV resurrection of Popmaster… meanwhile, on a Radio 2 theme, I got a shoutout on Zoe Ball‘s breakfast show due to a daily dose of 7.33 tracks we play daily.

We even found time to frequent the cinema for the first time in eighteen months; I really wanted to see Barbie (which the girls LOVED) but opted for Elemental, the new Pixar offering. I didn’t know much about it before wandering in but was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful graphics, the sometimes quite adult themes, the humour, the romance and the underlying messages about inter racial relationships (which is West Side Story-esque, given the clear similarities with NYC) and also climate change which are obviously very on trend. Even the dangers of cruise liners in cities resonated with our upcoming adventures.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried twice: firstly during the opening short, Carl’s Date, which revisits the characters of Up, several years on. Then, at the lovely climax in the main feature when – spoiler alert – Fire and Water find they CAN mix after all… and it nearly happened when what must have been the first ever use of Bugged Out classic Zombie Nation was used in an animation, triggering memories of two lifetimes ago!

Away from the world of music and television – well, linked actually – the more eagle-eyed of you will have noticed that Mr Man got his glasses and adjusted superbly. His team winning the summer league called for a celebration – a team photoshoot akin to those his heroes will soon be doing, plus a sponsored walk, followed by an awards ceremony at which we got to meet Kevin Sheedy who was a true gent again (our paths had crossed a few years ago at the hospital when we were both going through stuff, and he remembered) and we celebrated what progress the boys have made in such a short space of time.

Meanwhile, Little Miss was proudly named Sports Captain for her house at school, after which she was rewarded with a game of ten pin bowling!

Zig-zagging from music back to books, the spoken word and TV: another influential hero returned.

It was around this time that I found more fame at last when asked to appear on a podcast. The focus was individuality – the benefits of being different, having the confidence to stand out, and my socks and tie combinations featured heavily. Talking of being individuals, I also read a great book by Jay Rayner about last suppers and started an insightful and fascinating biography of my all-time food hero, Anthony Bourdain, whose final series we’re still enjoying as an encore.

Now, for the football!

The end of the season feels like only yesterday, yet the new one is upon us: new kits, fantasy football team names to ponder and a plethora of pre-season friendlies, including a proud moment at Marine against Blackpool, and more non-league entertainment with me finally finishing Welcome To Wrexham in preparation for the new series coming out in September. Paul Mullin is another new inspiration, and we wish him well after his recent injury. And again I was asked to share my views – and pride, once more – on a podcast for the Falcon Blues.

Yes, it looks like I had an itchy ear (my nervous tic) and I’d had a couple of drinks to settle the nerves, but this was another unique and enjoyable experience I’d like to do again.

Back to music, and Morrissey.

Lots has been said and written about the man – not just by me – and I’ll be (our) Frank and say I don’t really care – I go for the music and the performance, and this concert was up there with one of the best, with old and new classics alike. The great man was on great form and, even if the evening was short, it was very sweet and I came away thinking that if that would be my last time seeing him, our affair ended on a high. Politics and personality aside, the love and devotion so many have for him remains a constant, even if some were a little too (Roy’s) keen to get on stage that night.

Talking of greatness, we come to the end. Well, nearly.

By far the best thing we’ve watched (twice this year, if you include the first series) is The Bear. It was great that my t-shirt on the last day of term garnered so many comments by people clearly onside with the fact it’s the (channelling my inner Frank again) greatest TV show around, this time going up a notch with the incredible cameos (watch to find out whom!) the character development, the soundtrack and the Wes Anderson vibes with the cinematography. Cousin Richie (played perfectly by Ebon Moss-Bachrach, with whom I’ve begun conversing online) is my favourite, and his Forks episode was probably the standout of the series, although the Copenhagen-set Honeydew and the epic rollercoaster of a Christmas, Fishes, ran it close.

Then came the epic self-titled finale, after watching ten episodes on eight consecutive evenings, and they saved the best ’til last with an incredibly frantic and cathartic finale with an amazing performance by Jeremy Allen White. The irony of a recent real life story of being locked in a walk in (and my own fear of such an event when I was a KP) wasn’t lost on me, as well as rekindling a love of REM… as the Guardian critic, Lucy Mangan, wrote last year: “The Bear is aptly named. To watch it is to experience something between a huge, enveloping hug and a huge, eviscerating attack.”

And finally… this started out as an art project for my MA, nearly fifteen years ago. I’m happy to say that, after years of being busy making other plans, this summer has already offered the chance to go back to my roots and start making art again.

Watch this space…

We begin with an innocent image with serious connotations.

Football played on the mind for most of the last couple of months, and not just for negative reasons. The analogy of the photo I was sent of the Everton bouncy castle, after an afternoon spent playing on it, now down and deflated, was an apparent precursor of what was to come, as many pointed out.

I spent a large amount of time worrying about what seemed to be the (thankfully avoided) inevitable, of course, but also enjoyed the resurgence of Wrexham and its people and I’m really loved the Disney + documentary I’m slowly watching. Similarly with Napoli, winning the Scudetto at a canter, and their T-shirts emblazoned with the title of this piece underlining the intertwinement of fans and the team, even Marine had a positive end to the season with a win in the Liverpool Senior Cup, another shining example of club and community in harmony.

It wasn’t all about the football, though, rediscovering our love of all things Bourdain via newly rereleased episodes of No Reservations and Parts Unknown, including the seminal Obama in Hanoi episode, and new music by The National which is hauntingly beautiful as ever. One song in particular resonated as huge changes took place.

Not nineteen years, forever, etc.

To take our minds off it all, we went to see the Champions. E has taken a major liking to Man City in recent months, in particular Grealish, Harland and Foden, so it was a joy to go and see them in the flesh – literally, as we saw them coming off the team coach so close to us – and a disappointing result was tempered by the impressive performance and goals we witnessed. I was especially proud as the little guy assuaged the half and half scarf and wanted the Everton kit instead… a little perilous a decision, I thought, but I was more than happy to oblige, especially what with the impending doom.

That afternoon, Napoli won the league in style and the celebrations were a sight to behold. Even from a distance; I shudder to think of what the city must have been like that weekend, or indeed this one when the trophy is lifted. Honourable mentions go to the most exciting striker in Europe this season, and Kvara ( whom I realised looks exactly like Ringo Starr in the video for ‘It don’t come easy’ via a recent episode of TOTP2) and the musical references didn’t stop when Liverpool held Eurovision the same weekend.

This, of course, had followed the Coronation celebrations, when our street party allowed me the chance to wear the Napoli colours whilst downing Pimms & Lemonade on the equivalent of the Shankhill Road and remaining in oblivion to the impending dangers we were facing. Meanwhile, channelling our inner Ukrainian, we ventured into town to embrace the musical extravaganza taking place in our city, and we were even interviewed by from Strictly about the whole event.

It was really nice to feel a part of the event, and the next weekend we watched with baited breath whilst my Italian pick finished fourth and the city looked simply glorious.

Talking of which, viewing choices this month focused mainly on the simply brilliant Colin from Accounts, a lovely little story all about a dog and an odd couple and I won’t say any more than that other than to urge you to watch it.

The final feel good story of the early summer came on a Sunday afternoon when I really should have been concentrating on other things but an excellent brunch (replete with a sublime Bloody Mary) at Crosby Wine Bar & Bistro, then a sunny afternoon at Burbo Bank with the crazy kites, meant that staying up was the only thing on my mind for an hour at least and while I paced the living room kicking every ball, I was mightily relieved when the final whistle (finally) blew. We even saw the prodigal son Anthony Gordon driving back into Liverpool a day or two later, presumably coming home to celebrate with his family…

Anyway, we end on another positive and another day out; one last dance in the other city of culture, getting dressed up for the occasion.

I’ve written before about our epic meals at Six by Nico and a very kind colleague had bought WW a voucher last year but, what with the Liverpool branch closing before we had chance to attend for a third time, we were elated to find out the Manchester branch would welcome us with not one but two menu choices over half term.

Disaster struck when trains trikes were confirmed, but we were determined to enjoy the myriad celebrations, so altered arrangements and made it over to Cottonopolis just in time for the booking.

Having opted for one of each menu on offer – enticingly entitled ‘Imagination’ & ‘The Chippie’ this time – the difficult decision as to which one should be gluten free was finally made and both sets of courses was simply fantastic. Standout elements from both included a colour-changing cocktail, smoked potato (served theatrically with a smoking cloche) the coley, and what we’d been waiting for the most, the deep fried Mars bar with an Irn Bru sorbet that has to be tasted to be believed.

Drinks at Petit Paris, a cool new cheese & wine deli further down King Street, and a saunter around the Northern Quarter where I spotted several of these open love letters to the city, as well as one of our favourite people off Gogglebox, all tinged with a little sadness that the genius guitarist Andy Rourke recently passed away, before leaving the city (and City) behind and coming home for teatime.

There is a light in your eyes and it never goes out.

Half term, then, ends in glorious sunshine; Napoli finally hold the trophy aloft and everything is underlined by those t-shirt messages.

(*It means I will be with you, and you don’t have to give up)