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IN THIS ISSUE

• Dick Monaghan looks at another aspect of amateur theatre
• Jim Olson sends us a very different story about war
• Geoff and Freddie Goodship lunch with the editor
• Peter Rollo writes about a trend to claim police brutality
• Gerrit de Leeuw forwards a poem about a friendship
• Catherine Green shares some recent technological findings
• Burke Dykes comments on men´s barbecuing skills
• Shades of things to come? SF bans plastic bags

Dick Monaghan continues his series on

AMATEUR THEATRE

Okay, you´re the director and you´ve decided to put on an old-fashioned melodrama, complete with mustache-twirling villain, virginal heroine, and dim but virile hero. Here are your problems (not involving the cast):

Your playing area is a 15x30 foot (say 5x10 meters, or thereabouts) section of floor surrounded by risers for seats. You have two entrances at the south end, and one at the north (the same one the audience uses to reach their seats). Your lights are the ceiling fixtures used for the restaurant dining area in which you are playing. You are totally in the round, so there is no curtain.

Your technical director - the person responsible for costumes, props, sets, lights and sound, after you´ve decided what you want - points out some difficulties.

"You´ve got six different sets to deal with - the widow´s home, outside the mine, inside the mine, the bank, Shanghai Mame´s dive, and the orphanage. How do you want to do six sets on one floor with no curtain?"

Your solution is to set three scenes at a time with minimal props - a kitchen table and chairs for the widow´s home, a couple of phony rocks for the mine entrance, a rough timber and some "rocks" for the mine interior, etc. You order the stagehands to simply come out and change the scenes in full view of the audience. You keep the lights up on the area in use, and down on the others. You find a comely lass to wear a teddy and carry signs around advising the audience where the scene is set: "The Widow´s Home," "Outside the Mine," etc., like those girls who carry signs telling you what round of a boxing match is next.

The TD says, "You´ve got mine explosion in Act III. How you gonna get the actors made up to look like they´ve been blown up when we don´t have a curtain?"

The answer you come up with is to have the lights go out, the entire cast to say, "BOOM!" very loud, then to have the lights come up and the make-up crew come on stage wearing jackets labeled "Make Up" and muss up the actors´ hair and clothes and put "dirt" and "dust" all over them. You hope the audience will catch on and get in the spirit of the thing, which, contrary to many predictions, they do.

Warning: technical directors are worth their weight in platinum, if they´re good. They can make or break you and your show. Never depend on some alleged democratic process to produce them - have one in your pocket when you agree to do the show. Otherwise, you may find that you are dealing with someone who has volunteered for the job without understanding it. You say you want a number of things - say a reproduction of the observation deck of the Empire State Building, or a live steam locomotive - and they nod (people don´t like to look stupid), back out of your presence and disappear forever.

Next time: Personnel problems

Jim Olson sent this story which is very different from those that have been told recently. It was written by Arthur Pay, a conscientious objector, who died about five years ago.

"WHAT DID YOU DO IN THE LAST WAR, DADDY ?"

During the First World War (1914-1918) there was a recruiting poster that depicted a man sitting in an armchair and his son standing by the armchair asking the question, "What did you do in the Great War, Daddy?"

I don´t know what answer he gave to the lad, but during the Second World War, at classes organized for the Islington Civil Defence Rescue Parties, I made an oak fire screen, of which I was somewhat proud, in anticipation of the question from my own son, when I would have been able to produce the screen and say, "I carved that."

However, I thought it might be an idea to record what I actually did in the second of the series of wars to end wars and to make the world safe for democracy.

I was born on 3rd October, 1915, and up to the time I was about 14 years of age, I had very little idea of politics, nor much idea of other nations of the world, except of course, England and Germany. Indeed, when I was quite young I was unable to understand what "Canterbury lamb" was, as opposed to English lamb, which was dearer. If the lamb wasn´t English, it must be German!

During my primary schooldays, I remember that there were elections, and the candidates in West Leyton, where I lived were, J. D. Cassells, Conservative; Newbold, Liberal; and the Labour candidate was a chap named Smith with a big black beard, who was depicted on his poster, supporting his head on his hand, with his finger on his forehead.

My father was a policeman, so I was not so much affected by the poverty and unemployment of the time, and consequently considered I was a Conservative. I was told that Conservatives wanted to conserve things as they were, and as things seemed alright to me at the time, I was therefore a Conservative, and joined in the chorus of, "Vote, vote, vote for Mr. Cassells, kick old Newbold down the stairs - for Cassells is our man, and we´ll have him if we can, and we won´t vote for Newbold any more!" The Labour chap wasn´t even a runner. Our newspaper was the Daily Mail.

In 1929 Reg Sorensen was first elected in the minority Labour government, and Socialist and pacifist ideas began to stir in my consciousness, stimulated by increasing awareness of the world situation from the history lessons at Leyton County High School which questioned some of the preconceived notions of how wonderful the British were. At the elementary school we had each year a celebration of Empire Day on 23rd May and every pupil took a Union Jack to school to show what a "good thing" the British Empire was.

In 1931, after reading "The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists", I joined Forest Ward Association of the West Leyton Labour Party, and a few months after, the Labour Party League of Youth, and my course was set. I can remember the horrible depression that was caused by the results of the 1931 election when the National government under Ramsay McDonald replaced the minority Labour government; I think it was one of the blackest moments of my life, or appeared so at the time, and I can recall going to bed and continuing to hear from the radio downstairs, seemingly ad infinitum, "... Conservative gain from Labour ... Conservative gain from Labour...." etc., etc.

In 1932, after achieving General Schools Certificate and Matriculation Exemption, I ceased to be a pupil of Leyton County High School, and started work at Waterlow and Sons litho department at Appold St., where I was to be trained as an estimating clerk.

It was here that I first met Charlotte Burton, who sat opposite to me, on the other side of the desk, and with whom I fell in love and eventually married. Fortunately, she shared my views and politics.

During this period I joined the Peace Pledge Union and various other anti-war movements, and I remember attending a meeting at Kingsway Hall run by an organization called the United Front, which incorporated all the left-wing groups opposed to war, during which there was squabbling and fisticuffs on the platform and in the audience. This was only quelled by the Red Flag being played on the organ, whereupon everybody stopped scrapping - but only until the end of the music, when they were at it again immediately.

I remained at Waterlow´s after the outbreak of war, and I registered as a conscientious objector in 1940.

To be continued.

A VISIT WITH A LONG-TIME SUBSCRIBER AND CONTRIBUTOR

On Thursday morning I met Geoff Goodship and his charming wife, Freddie, for lunch at the Boathouse Restaurant at the New Westminster quay. We caught up on each other´s histories and discussed philosophy, and wondered what will happen to the Tale Spinner when this editor spins her last web. They almost promised to take it on themselves if no-one else volunteers. Geoff thinks it would be a shame to let it sink into oblivion because it is a forum for people to tell their stories and to express their opinions, as well as an antidote to the endless barrage of bad news in the daily media. He also suggested that we need more readers and contributors, especially from the ranks of the baby boomers who are about to retire. Their stories should be told too. Which gives me an idea: each reader can introduce the Spinner to one other person (or as many as they wish), stressing the need for fresh voices and viewpoints. What a wealth of stories must be out there, and how I would love to print them! So pass a copy on to your family and friends, and suggest that they join us.

Peter Rollo writes about the tendency to

BLAME THE POLICE

Over the years that I was a police officer in the State of Western Australia, there were many demonstrations by people (otherwise known as unionists.) Whenever these took place, it was the police who bore the brunt when the demonstrators stepped out of line. The famous catcall was, "Police brutality!"

Looking through many of my old papers, otherwise known as odds and ends, I came across this article which was published in one of our local newspapers and written by one of the many journalists.I thought you may be interested in reading it.

"According to the police union newspaper, ´Police News´, our lawmen are becoming heartily sick of being the whipping boys for social ills not of their making. Demonstrators who step out of line ... who break the law .... cry immediately of police brutality. All sorts of crimes claim police bashings in a bid to have possible sentences lessened. And the latest ploy is to blame the man in blue for unrest in socially debilitated events. Sad to say, many people in high places are jumping onto this murky bandwagon. It´s politically easier to blame the cop than it is to cop the blame. No-one would claim that police forces anywhere in the world are 100% fit and sound and blameless in all regards. There are occasional bad apples in every profession, mine, yours, and theirs, but beware those who continue this trend of ´blame the policeman´ without just and provable cause. The union is determined to protect the policeman. We just cannot afford to have our police force continually demoralized and denigrated in the eye of the public."

Gerrit de Leeuw sends this poem from an unknown author:

MY FRIEND

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.

And I never see my old friend´s face,
For life is a swift and terrible race.
He knows I like him just as well
As in the days when I rang his bell
And he rang mine, but we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.

Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
"Tomorrow" I say, "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I´m thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner, yet miles away.

"Here´s a telegram sir," "Jim died today."
And that´s what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

Catherine Green forwards this illuminating account of

TECHNOLOGY THROUGH THE AGES

After digging to a depth of 100 meters last year, Russian scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 1,000 years, and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network one thousand years ago.

Not to be outdone, in the weeks that followed, American scientists dug down 200 meters and headlines in the US papers read: "US scientists have found traces of 2,000-year-old optical fibers, and have concluded that their ancestors already had advanced high-tech digital telephone 1,000 years earlier than the Russians."

One week later, the Newfoundland newspapers reported the following: "After digging as deep as 500 meters, Newfie scientists have found absolutely nothing. They have concluded that 5,000 years ago, their ancestors were already using wireless technology."

Burke Dykes writes: We have finally come to BBQ season. Therefore, it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this outdoor cooking ritual, as it´s the only type of cooking a real man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.

BARBECUE SEASON

1. The woman buys the food.

2. The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes the dessert.

3. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.

Here comes the important part:

4. THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.

5. The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.

6. The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he deals with the situation.

7. THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.

8. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, serviettes and sauces and brings them to the table.

9. After eating, the woman clears the table and washes up.

And most important of all.......

10. Everyone PRAISES THE MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.

11. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off" and upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there´s just no pleasing some women.

Happy BBQ Season to thoughtful men everywhere!

SAN FRANCISCO PASSES NATION´S FIRST PLASTIC BAG BAN

San Francisco´s Board of Supervisor has passed an ordinance requiring large supermarkets and pharmacies in the city to replace non-biodegradable plastic bags with reusable or recyclable bags.

The legislation, which was passed 10-1, makes San Francisco the first city in the U.S. to introduce such a ban, said Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi, who sponsored the original version of the ordinance.

"Instead of waiting for the federal government to do something about this country´s oil dependence, environmental degradation or contribution to global warming, local governments can step up and do their part. The plastic bag ban is one small part of that," Mirkarimi said.

The ban applies to large pharmacies and 54 grocery stores in the city with annual retail sales of more than $2 million. Retailers will be permitted to use any combination of biodegradable plastic, paper and recycled bags. Grocery stores will have six months to comply with the new requirement and pharmacies will have 12 months.

"I have always wished for a computer that would be as easy to use as my telephone. My wish came true. I no longer know how to use my telephone." - Bjarne Stronstrup