The Safekeep by Yael Van Der Wouden

It is now the ninth day of February, and it has rained here every day this sodden year. That has meant that I have been cooped up indoors most days. On the positive side I have read more than I have done in a long while. Yesterday I finished reading The Safekeep, the debut novel by a Dutch author called Yael Van Der Wouden. It was short-listed for The Booker Prize in 2024. I ordered the book because a Yorkshire friend of mine told me that she was reading it. When the book arrived, I made the mistake of reading all the snippets of reviews by other writers in the front of the book, by such people as Rachel Joyce, Ann Enright, Tracy Chevalier and Maggie O’Farrell, and noticed they were all women. This made me slightly wary, wrongly thinking that this was going to be chick-lit written for a female audience. It also made me aware of what to expect in the plot.

The book is set in The Netherlands in 1961 fifteen years after the war. The main protagonist is Isabel who lives alone apart from a maid Neelke who comes in to help with the housework. She has two brothers Hendrik and Louis. Hendrick has a partner Sebastian who Isabel initially dislikes because he looks ‘foreign’. When they meet up at a restaurant Louis introduces his new girlfriend Eva who Isabel also takes an instant dislike to. The story gets underway when Louis asks Isabel if Eva can stay at her house for a month while he is away on business. I knew from reading the publicity blurbs that Isabel and Eva would form a relationship. The tension between them is electric. The writing is very erotic, especially chapter 10. The romance isn’t the main story however. Gradually a deep dark shameful secret is revealed which concerns Dutch history during and after the war. I won’t tell you any more in case you read the book yourself. I don’t think The Safekeep is one of the best books I have ever read, not by any means. It is a page turner though, I had to know what happened next. It is a very promising debut novel, and I think a lot remains unsaid. There could be another very powerful story to be told if the author wanted to explore the history of the characters further, especially during WW11. I will look out for more writing from Yael Van Der Wouden in the future.

A Search In Secret India by Paul Brunton.

Yesterday the weather forecast told me that there was a 100% chance of rain until the late evening. It was no day for venturing out on the king’s highway, so to pass the time I thought I would write a piece about the book I have just finished reading. It is called A Search In Secret India by Dr Paul Brunton, first published in London in 1934. I first heard of this book when Eckhart Tolle mentioned it in one of his talks on Youtube. When my eBay paperback copy arrived, I was pleased to see a stamp in it from the famous Shakespeare & Company bookshop in Paris where the original owner of the book must have purchased it. Paul Brunton is the pen name of Hyman Raphael Hurst (21 October 1898 – 27 July 1981), a British philosopher, author of spiritual books, journalist and traveller. From an early age he had a fascination for the mystic east and took an interest in such subjects as theosophy and the occult. It was a chance encounter with a mysterious Indian man in a London antiquarian bookshop which determined him to set sail for Bombay in 1930 in search of the yogis and sages of India.

It was in Bombay that he had his first meeting with a remarkable man, who just happened to be staying at the same hotel. He wasn’t actually Indian; he was an Egyptian wizard or magician from Cairo by the name of Mahmoud Bey who revealed that he learned his secrets from an old Jewish magician who lent him musty old books about ancient magic. Paul Brunton asked him to demonstrate some of his skills. Mahmoud asked Brunton to write down any question on a piece of paper while he stood several yards away looking out of a window. Paul wrote in pencil, “In which town did I live four years ago?”. He was then asked to fold the paper as small as possible and clench it in his fist along with the pencil. After a few minutes he was asked to unfold the paper. To his astonishment he found the name of the town written on the paper under the question. When pressed to reveal how he achieved this feat Mahmoud Bey said he did it with the help of spirits called Jinns, one of which was his own deceased brother.  Brunton remained sceptical but couldn’t think of any logical or scientific explanation.

Meher Baba.

After leaving Bombay Paul Bruton visited Meher Baba. (1894 – 1969) who claimed that he was the Avatar, or the total manifestation of God in human form. He had taken a vow of silence and communicated by the use of an alphabet board. I knew of Meher Baba before reading this book because Pete Townshend of The Who and Melanie Safka were devotees of him. Melanie’s song Candles In The Rain mentions Meher Baba. Paul Brunton wasn’t impressed with him however. He doesn’t say that he was a fraud but felt that Meher Baba was deluded about his own greatness. Brunton also had a brief meeting with an aged Afghan female saint called Hazrat Babajaan who Meher Baba had encountered in his youth, after which he had a spiritual transformation. Brunton said of her, ‘some deep psychological attainment really resides in the depths of her being, I am certain’.

Hazrat Babajaan

As this book was written nearly 100 years ago, I find Brunton’s style quite dated, but it is still a compelling read. His attitude seems very colonial as well. He appears quite happy with the status quo of the British ruling India and doesn’t seem to have much time for Gandi and the independence movement. What I do like is his healthy scepticism of the people he meets. He has no time for the fakirs and tricksters he encounters. He has a lot of respect for many other people he met on his travels though, such as a man he called Brama who could display incredible feats of yoga including ceasing to breathe for hours, or even stop his heart from beating with no apparent ill effects. He also spent time with an elderly astrologer called Sudkei Babu. There was also Vishudhananda, the wonder worker of Benares who could produce any scent out of thin air and even bring deceased sparrows back to life. He was very impressed with Sahabji Maharaj who had founded a community near Agra called Dayalbach where the people combined modern methods of industry, farming, education, and housing with following their traditional religious beliefs of Radha Soumi. After reading the book I searched for Dayalbach on the internet and found that the community is still thriving to this very day. It was through meeting the religious leader of South India Shri Shankara that Paul Brunton was encouraged to visit Ramana Maharshi at his ashram at the holy mountain of Arunachula.

Shri Shankara

Brunton visited Ramana twice on this journey. Before meeting Ramana he had prepared a list of journalistic questions to ask. After a short while in his presence Brunton realised that questions were meaningless. He was overcome by the energy of benevolence that emanated from Ramana who just sat in silence beyond thought. Ramana taught that silence was the best communication. He imparted wisdom into people’s consciousness without a word. He had been content to live in obscurity, never leave Arunachula and never sought followers, but they had arrived anyway and the ashram had grown up around him. Brunton’s journey was coming to an end, and he was due to return home, but two days before his ship was due to leave Bombay he changed his mind and returned to Arunachula for a further month because Ramana had impressed him more than anyone he had ever met. When it was finally time to leave, Brunton said of Ramana, ‘He has taken me into the benign presence of my spiritual self and helped me, dull Westerner that I am, to translate a meaningless term into a living and blissful experience’.

Ramana & Paul Brunton.

Before this book was published in 1934 the name of Ramana Maharshi was unknown in the west, but the book made him known throughout the world. It has been translated into twenty languages and Ramana’s influence continues to grow and spread through such teachers as Eckhart Tolle and such practices as mindfulness and meditation. As the philosopher Bertrand Russell once said, "Those who live nobly, even if in their day they live obscurely, need not fear that they will have lived in vain. Something radiates from their lives, some light that shows the way to their friends, their neighbours perhaps to long future ages. I find many people nowadays oppressed with a sense of impotence, with the feeling that in the vastness of modern societies there is nothing of importance that the individual can do. This is a mistake. The individual, if he is filled with love of mankind, with breadth of vision, with courage and with endurance, can do a great deal. Every one of us can enlarge our mind, release our imagination, and spread wide our affection and benevolence. And it is those who do this whom ultimately humankind reveres.”

Arunachula & Ramana.

 

Somebody Tried To Sell Me A Bridge by Van Morrison.

There was once a fraudster in New York who sold real estate, (Sounds familiar!). His name was George C Parker (1860-1937) who sold public buildings that he didn’t own to gullible people. His most famous exploit was selling the Brooklyn Bridge. The scam was only discovered when the new ‘owners’ opened toll booths at the bridge to recoup their investment. George ended his days with a life stretch in Sing Sing prison. His memory lives on with a saying about gullible people, ‘If you believe that, then I’ve got a bridge to sell you’. It also gave Van Morrison the title track of his new album of Blues music Somebody Tried To Sell Me A Bridge. It is the third release on Van’s Orangefield label after the excellent Beyond Words and Live At Orangefield. Van created the label to release non-mainstream archive material that wouldn’t otherwise be released on a major label.  

The sleeve design is interesting because if you look at the shadow of the musician depicted on the cover you will see that he has a tail. I guess this tells us to expect blues music because amongst conservative Christian fundamentalists in America in the early 20^th century blues music was known as ‘The Devil’s music’ as it was associated with juke joints, speakeasies, brothels, alcohol and gambling. There are twenty tracks in all, mainly blues covers with just four tracks written by Van and one by John Allair. 

Buddy Guy & Van plaque.

At nearly eighty minutes of music, you are certainly getting your money’s worth. Van’s regular touring band are mainly absent from this collection of songs, but he is joined by many illustrious blues friends such as Taj Mahal who Van has worked with many times. Taj adds excellent harmonica and vocals to four tracks including the politically incorrect Delia’s Gone which I remember Johnny Cash singing at Glastonbury in 94. 

Taj, Van, Mitch.

Elvin Bishop who I mainly know from the song Fooled Around and Fell In Love plays guitar on five tracks. There is a great video on youtube of Van and Elvin from 1977 performing Domino. Buddy Guy is still going strong at 89. You may remember that it was Buddy who unveiled the plaque on Van’s former house on Hyndford Street. I don’t think Van was very pleased about that at the time but seems to have got over it now. I love Buddy’s guitar playing and vocals here on I’m Ready and Rock Me Baby. You can see Buddy make a cameo appearance in the recent multi-Oscar nominated film Sinners. John Allair who has played piano and organ on many great Van albums contributes (Go To The) High Place In Your Mind. 

Elvin & Van 1977

I hadn’t heard Anthony Paule until recently, but he plays some excellent guitar on this album, and I think the backing singers here Omega Rae, Nona Brown and Larry Baptiste are members of his band.  Dave Lewis like Van is also from Northern Ireland. He played piano on the Magic Time album and wrote Madame Butterfly Blues featured on this album. Mr ‘Boogie Woogie’ Mitch Woods plays piano on twelve of the tracks. Eddie ‘Cleanhead’ Vinson whose songs Van has recorded previously wrote the first two tracks. Other songs were written by such luminaries as Junior Wells, John Lee Hooker, Fats Domino, Sonny Terry & Brownie Magee, Leadbelly, Willie Dixon, Blind Blake, BB King, and Marie Adams who wrote Play The Honky Tonks. I had never heard of Marie Adams, so I just looked her up and found that she sang the original version of Ma, He’s Making Eyes At Me which gave Lena Zavarone a number one hit in the UK. 

John Allair

If I had to choose a favourite song here, I think it is Van’s version of Fats Domino’s Ain’t That A Shame. I can’t fault this album. It is just what I expected when I ordered it. Van’s voice and sax playing are as good as ever, although the four tracks he wrote himself aren’t among his best compositions in my opinion. The musicianship of the players is excellent. I think the problem for me is that I’m not the world’s greatest blues fan. My initial enthusiasm to hear the songs began to wane after a while and I found they began to sound a bit samey to me. Don’t let me put you off though. I know a lot of music fans who are steeped in the blues will love this recording and find it a very valuable addition to Van’s great body of work

Van Morrison & The City of Bath.

I haven’t done anything worth telling you about recently because the weather has been so dull and miserable, so to pass the time on yet another rainy dark January day I thought I’d update a story I wrote a few years ago about Van Morrison and the city of Bath because Van is returning to Bath Forum for two nights in April and maybe some of the fans who are coming to Bath might like to read about Van’s links to this wonderful city.  Van lived and worked around Bath for nearly 20 years and as a Van fan who lives 12 miles from Bath I am very proud of Van’s connection with this area. Wherever Van has lived has been a source of inspiration to him. Belfast obviously, New York, Woodstock, California, Copenhagen, London and Ireland, but I feel that one of his most sustained periods of creativity was when Van lived right here in the West Country of England. When Van moved back to England after many years in the states he lived in Notting Hill London, an area he knew from the 60's, but Van had changed since then. I think he was tired of the hustle of life in London and wished to be far from the madding crowd.  Inspired by the likes of William Blake Van had become a nature poet inspired by the countryside as shown in such songs as Summertime In England and he was exploring the healing power of music. 

Wool Hall

Van set up offices in Bath which became Exile Productions. Thus began a golden age in his career. The first album he recorded in this area was Poetic Champions Compose which was recorded at Wool Hall Studios in the village of Beckington only five miles from where I am sitting at this very moment. The studio was owned at the time by the famous Bath band Tears For Fears and Van became one of its most regular clients. In 1994 after recording five albums at Wool Hall Van bought the studio. All Van's studio albums between 1987 and 2006 were recorded at the Wool Hall as far as I know. About 14 albums, a very impressive body of work indeed. 

You can see the influence the area had on Van’s work immediately. Avalon Sunset from 89 with its pastoral imagery was partly inspired by the Vale Of Avalon and nearby Glastonbury. In the song Pagan Streams on Hymns To The Silence Van says, 'And we walked the pagan streams and searched for white horses on surrounding hills, We lived where dusk had meaning, And repaired to quiet sleep, where noise abated, In touch with the silence On honey street, on honey street’. At nearby Westbury a famous White Horse is carved into the hillside. It commemorates the Battle Of Edington against the Danes where King Alfred dumped the Jutes on the burning ground. I wonder if this is the white horse that Van is referring to? It is quite visible from Beckington.  Honey Street is a small village on the Kennett And Avon Canal near Devizes. 

Van became a well-known figure around the quiet streets, cafe's, bookshops and record shops of Bath and beyond. A friend of mine spotted him in a shop in nearby Frome called Raves From The Grave where Van was mooching through the blues albums. Another day, I was in a now defunct record shop in Trowbridge called The Record Collector and I asked the man if he had any Van Morrison and he said that Van had been in only the day before, buying records for his jukebox. I think that is great that someone like Van with all his fame and fortune still enjoys looking in second-hand shops for rare records. In the late 90's we used to go into a tiny wine bar just around the corner from the Theatre Royal in Bath. It was called Raincheck after a song on Van's Days Like This album.  Van was a silent partner in the place. I think he probably just lent a friend the money to open it. I never saw Van in there, but he used to frequent it regularly according to people I spoke to. One man in there told me that he had been chatting to Van about the two 1965 Them gigs at Bath Pavilion (see picture) and he said Van had told him that the supporting band on the first occasion were The Four Specs who had that name because all the band wore glasses. I looked them up and they really existed.

My partner Kim used to have her hair done in a place called Mahogany in the Corridor in Bath. The staff told Kim that Van also had his hair cut there, but he never had much to say for himself. Kim was a care worker for people with learning difficulties. One day she was taking some of them out shopping in Bath. She stopped at the pedestrian crossing near Queens Square and this familiar figure walked across, “It’s Van the Man", exclaimed Kim, Van turned round and gave her one of those looks that only he can do. A friend called Jean was in Sally Lunn’s tea shop in Bath one day with her son Ben and spotted Van who was enjoying a pot of tea and some scones in the corner. As she was leaving, she went over and said,” This is my son Ben and he would like to shake hands with you". Van wiped his hands on his napkin and shook hands with Ben aged 11 and said, "How do you do”.  

Sally Lunn's

We saw him at Lydiard Park near Swindon which is only a stone’s throw from Van’s house in Little Somerford. I think that was the first or second time Brian Kennedy appeared with him. Also, at Frome Festival at Marston House just about 3 miles from Beckington. That was the last time I saw the great Pee Wee Ellis play with Van. We saw Pee Wee play in Bradford On Avon one Sunday afternoon and met Pee Wee and his wife Charlotte and also a lady called Nicky who was Van’s PA during his time in Bath. She recognised me from the TV. I had achieved some local short-lived fame after winning on a quiz show called Fifteen To One and she said that they had all been rooting for me because on the show I said I was a Van Morrison fan. I wonder if Van watched it. After Van left the area Pee Wee continued to live here for the rest of his life in Beckington. He gave local children music lessons and was honoured with a doctorate by Bath Spa University.  He continued to support local music as patron of the Bristol International Blues and Jazz Festival until he sadly died on September 23, 2021 at the age of 80.

I saw Van seven times at Glastonbury Festival and four times at Glastonbury Abbey only 26 miles from here. Plus, Van’s almost annual concerts down by Bristol. I think of the seventy or so times I have seen Van half of the gigs have been in a thirty-mile radius of Bath, so Van has saved me a lot of money by playing locally. In 2002 Van released Down The Road and for the cover he used Nasher’s Record Shop in Walcot Street, Bath. It was a great cover because the window of the shop was filled with albums of Van's influences. Maybe it was inspired by Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home album. I know Nasher’s well because I used to have a browse in there on my way to the Hat And Feather pub or The Bell. Twenty years ago I decided to sell all my vinyl albums because I had nothing to play them on. Because of the Van connection I thought I would get a good price for my Van vinyl in Nasher’s, but they only paid me about £1.25 for each. I bitterly regret selling them now. 

Eventually Van moved away. I think these days he spends most of his time back in Belfast. Although he has recorded some wonderful music since, I don’t think he has quite reached the sustained brilliance of those albums he made at the Wool Hall. The studio was sold and became a private house for many years, but I think it has reopened as a studio recently. Nasher’s record shop is long gone, and Raincheck. Van returns to Bath quite regularly. He often records at Pete Gabriel’s Real World Studio in the village of Box only seven miles from Bath and has recorded several recent songs at the Bath Spa Hotel. He played the Forum in 2012 and an outdoor concert at the Recreation Ground in 2019, so it will be a very welcome return when he performs in the art-deco splendour of The Forum in April. See you in Bath!

 

The Street of Crocodiles

Storm Goretti was battering the South-West last evening, so I wasn’t venturing out anywhere. That gave me a chance to finish reading the book that arrived here last week. It is called The Street of Crocodiles, a collection of short stories by Bruno Schulz. It was Patti Smith who led me to discovering Bruno Schulz when she mentioned him on page 338 of her Book of Days. Patti said that Bruno Schulz was shot dead in the street by a Gestapo officer on November 19^th, 1942. This made me curious to find out more about him. I discovered that Bruno Schulz (12 July 1892 – 19 November 1942) was a Polish Jewish writer, fine artist, literary critic and art teacher born in Drohobych, Poland (Now in Ukraine) where he lived all his life. He was the son of cloth merchant Jakub Schulz on whom the main protagonist of the book is based. At a very early age he developed an interest in the arts, writing and drawing. Bruno became recognised as a writer when several of his letters were brought to the attention of the novelist Zofia Nałkowska who encouraged Bruno to have them published as short fiction. They were published as The Cinnamon Shops in 1934, and when published in English in 1963 as The Street of Crocodiles. 

My Copy

Several of Bruno's manuscripts were lost in the Holocaust, including short stories from the early 1940s and his final, unfinished novel The Messiah. When WW2 began in 1939 Drohobych was occupied by the Soviet Union, but when the Nazis launched Operation Barbarossa against the Soviets in 1941 Bruno along with thousands of other Jews was forced into the Jewish Ghetto. Most of the Jewish population were sent to the death camps, but Bruno was kept alive by a Nazi Gestapo officer called Felix Landau who liked Bruno’s artwork and wanted him to paint a mural in his house. Bruno even had a pass to enter the Aryan Quarter. In 1942 he was walking home carrying a loaf of bread when another Gestapo officer called Karl Günther casually shot and killed him. This murder was in revenge for Landau having murdered Günther's own "personal Jew," a dentist named Löw.

The thirteen stories which make up the book are all fictionalised boyhood memories set in his hometown and concern his immediate family, other relatives, and the employees of the shop downstairs. His father Jacob features in most of these fantastical tales. This is one of the strangest books I have ever read because of Bruno’s incredible imagination which begins in some sort of reality but then takes flight in all directions. For instance, in one of the most amazing stories simply called Birds Jacob in order to relieve the monotony of their drab existence takes up ornithology and begins importing exotic bird’s eggs from all over the globe. The eggs hatch and before long, their apartment is full of parrots, pelicans, vultures, and even a condor which bears an uncanny resemblance to Jacob. Finally, the housekeeper Adela tires of the noise and the droppings all over the floor, opens the windows and doors and shoos them out. They do return in a later story to visit their ‘master’. 

There is great humour in this book. At times Jacob with his bizarre experiments reminds me of De Selby in Flann O’Brien’s masterpiece The Third Policeman where bicycles also feature prominently. In Jacob’s universe there is even a new constellation called ‘The Cyclist’. Time and space are twisted like a bicycle wheel; In The Night of The Great Season the year grows another 13^th month at the end of August which is stunted like a hunchback. Jacob is tired of the tyranny of the Demiurge who created the physical world and wishes to create his own universe of pseudoflora and pseudofauna. 

In this strange world, houses, Apartments, Streets, and roads become labyrinths full of long forgotten rooms where even the wallpaper comes alive. The seamstresses Pauline and Polda are forced to listen to lectures by Jacob such as his treatise on tailors’ dummies. Every paragraph has vivid descriptions, a flock of crows resemble flakes of soot, Jacob’s face looks like an old plank full of knots and veins. Uncle Charles leaves his room in the morning while simultaneously walking in the opposite direction into the depths of a wardrobe mirror to a world that doesn’t exist. Nimrod is the pet dog who meets a cockroach, Pan is a tale of meeting an old tramp in the weeds of an overgrown garden. The Gale describes an account of a storm which is so strong his brother has to fill his pockets with irons and other metal objects as ballast in order to leave the house. 

The Street of Crocodiles itself is a sleazy area of the city where you can venture into the shallow mud of companionship and dirty intermingling. Tailor’s shops sell dirty books and there is a black market in railway tickets. One story called Cockroaches is very Kafkaesque where Jacob’s obsessive fear of cockroaches leads to him metamorphosing into one. I won’t tell you any more in case you read it yourself. 

I’d just like to add one thought about the cruel death of Bruno Schulz where the world was robbed of the work of his brilliant mind. Casually shot dead on the street by a fascist. You would think that we have progressed and such depravity has no place in a modern ‘civilised’ society. Then you look at the BBC News and see that Renee Nicole Good, an acclaimed poet, guitar player, mother of three, and peace activist is shot dead in Minnesota by a government official who enjoys full immunity. The lesson of Bruno Schulz is that we cannot afford to take our hard-won freedom for granted because it could easily be taken away again.

Bruno Schulz

 

Who Dares Wins.

In these cold dark days of Winter I often don't have anything worthwhile to talk about, so on days like this I thought I'd revisit stories I wrote years ago and see if I can improve them a bit. Andy Warhol once said that one day everybody would be famous for fifteen minutes. He might have been thinking of TV quiz shows. This is a story of when I appeared on one about 26 years ago.....          It all began in the early 90's when pubs began introducing quiz machines where you could win money by answering general knowledge questions. I was soon completely addicted to them because I found I could answer the questions quite easily and could have a free night down the pub whenever I liked. The local pub landlords grew to hate me as I went further and further afield in search of quiz machines to empty. One night I started in the Phipps Arms at Westbury Leigh and went on to The Hollies, The Royal Oak, The Castle, The Angel, The Horse And Groom, The White Lion, The Ludlow and The Crown. When I emptied my pockets that night I found I had about £70 in £ coins. It weighed a ton.
The Landlord of The Horse And Groom was Rod who decided to use my talent to his advantage and asked me to be captain of the pub quiz team. In our first season we won the Trowbridge and District League and my local fame grew in leaps and bounds. I felt really brainy. Then one night in the pub my mate Dave said I should go on Fifteen To One. This was a popular afternoon TV show which was a forerunner of The Weakest Link and at its peak had an audience of 4,000,000. It was very popular with pensioners, students and the unemployed. I sent off an application form and was invited to an audition in Bristol. Two weeks later I received a letter inviting me onto the show. This was going to make me famous. Everybody I met I told that I was going to be on the telly and to make sure they watched.

Our Quiz Team.

The big day arrived and I set off for London and my date with destiny. The studios were in Wandsworth and myself and the other contestants were put up in a nearby hotel as the show was to be recorded the following morning at 10.00. I began to have my first niggling doubts because the others looked really well educated and posh, and I found out that several of them almost made a career out of TV shows and had been on several other shows. I stayed in the hotel bar till 1.00 in the morning. The others went to bed. Next morning I was suffering with a really bad reality attack and all my bravado had gone out the window.  At the studio we drew lots and I was to be number 8. Then we were led into the place with the cameras and the genial host William G Stewart. I felt like I was about to be executed. The floor manager said, "One minute to recording". My right leg suddenly started shaking uncontrollably. William started asking the questions and everybody was coming up with the right answer.

Finally he got to me and he might as well have been talking Chinese. I was so nervous it sounded like this,
"Whatisthemathematicaltermforlinespointsorcurveswhichareequidistantapart?"
I stood there just looking at him. Then  realised what he was asking and I thought, "That's parallel, surely he wouldn't ask a question that easy". The buzzer went before I could blurt it out and William said, "The answer is parallel".
A couple of minutes later William returned and asked me who wrote the music for the film Brigadoon. I didn't know, but I was in such a state I didn't care who wrote the music for fecking Brigadoon. I answered "Rogers and Hammerstein", in a sort of high pitched squeak, just to say something. "The answer is Lerner and Loewe", said William, and I was out. My entire TV appearance was about 14 seconds. I hoped that nobody I knew would watch the show but of course they all did. For about a year afterwards I was known around town as Parallel Pat. People came up to me in the pub and said things like, "Sorry I didn't see you on the telly, I  blinked and missed, it", that sort of thing. Just when people were beginning to forget about it, the TV company went and repeated it the following summer and the jokes started all over again. I lost all interest in quizzes for five long years. As they say though, revenge is a meal best eaten cold and I was to get my revenge in the sweetest possible way.

Five Years Later........

Five long years had past since my disastrous TV appearance. Then in 1999 they announced that if you hadn't appeared on the show for 5 years you could apply again.
"I've gotta go back",I announced to Kim.
"Where?"
"London, I've got some unfinished business with William".
Once more I set off for London,
"Go get 'em Floyd", Said Kim, "Go kick some ass".
The stakes had never been higher, if I messed up this time I faced total humiliation, but as they say, 'Who Dares Wins'.
This time I was number 5. As William came along the line asking the questions my leg started its familiar jig, but this time I was grimly determined. Finally William got to me,
"When Britain joined the EU in 1974 which two other countries joined at the same time?"
"Ireland and er um Denmark"
"Correct"
I breathed a sigh of relief. Two minutes later William was back with my second question.
"Dancer Michael Flatley became famous in which musical show?"

 "Riverdance".
"Correct"
Brilliant! I was into round 2 and had all my lives intact. In round 2 if you got your answer right you could nominate one of your opponents to answer the next question. This is where it got dirty. I soon got nominated.
"Such is life" is reputed to be the last words of which Australian outlaw?"
"Ned Kelly"
Then I went on a killing spree. One by one my opponents were going down like skittles. I was enjoying this. After a few minutes there were 12 down 3 to go and I suddenly found myself in the final. My two rivals in the final were a lady who worked at Tesco's and a lad from Galway called Brendan who had only entered so he could visit his brother in London for free. At the beginning of Part 2 you had to smile at the camera while they told the viewers all about you. 'Pat lives in Westbury, Wiltshire, he enjoys reading and music particularly Van Morrison and he supports Peterborough United football club'. Then it was into battle. I got my first 2 questions wrong and only had one life left, so the other two kept nominating me to try and kill me off. I held my nerve, and answered 13 questions in a row correctly. The others started to get their answers wrong and I was fighting back. The Tesco lady was the first to crack and she was out. Then finally Brendan lost his last life and I had won. I scored 113 points and the 13th highest score in the series so far.
 I kept my composure until I left the studio. I was back on the street again, back on top again. Then I jumped up and punched the air YES!. Then floated on a cloud all the way back to Waterloo Station. I couldn't wait to get home and see everyone up at the pub. "I'll give them parallel Pat", I thought. I had to wait an hour for my train, so walked across Westminster bridge and went in a pub near the houses of parliament. It was frequented by politicians. "Look at them", I thought, "they think they are so  important, don't they realise that I'm the 13th most brainy person in Britain".
We had a big party in the pub to watch my glorious win and  had a cake with 15 candles and I blew out 14 of them.

A lady came from the local paper and wrote a story with the headline, 'Getting the answers off Pat'. I was invited back on the show twice more as a previous winner. It wasn't as exciting though. I didn't get the same buzz off it. When you get to the top there's no where else to go and that was the end of my TV career. You can see the second half of my appearance in the video below.

                                                                          

Fifteen Minutes Of Fame..