The Beestonian Issue 42 by The Beestonian

The

Beestonian Our answer to life, the universe and everything...

Issue no.

A Very Big Year

hen the book, Beestonia in the 21st Century: A Retrospective gets published in 2200, they’ll need an extra big chapter for 2015. What a year! The tram eventually arrived, albeit late; Wilkos reopened and the place bucked town centre trends nationally by blossoming into life. Oxjam was another corker, the £17,000+ raised a record breaker locally AND nationally. We got a new annual film festival.. The first I Love Beeston awards was held, bizarrely on the same day Eddie Izzard helped Foxy –who won an award- sell her strawberries at Hallams. The Canal Heritage Centre was given the green light. A heap of new businesses opened up across town, and we started to be seen as something of a culinary hotspot. Our big sister up the road, Nottingham, was made a UNESCO City of Literature a couple of weeks after our last issue, where we celebrated Beeston’s literary excellence.

Bartons released plans for development of its huge site. Generous Beestonians formed queues to donate to the refugee appeal: with Sergio at The White Lion freeing up his cellar for collections: it was filled so many times he personally took a van down to Calais to deliver the donations. What a guy. So all rosy in 2016? Well, there are certainly challenges. Sometime next year we should find out about the Phase 2 development –the old fire station –which could change Beeston massively. We’ll probably see the toilets go for good. Local businesses will hopefully thrive: but without Beeston BID to promote them, will another funding stream be found? Perhaps most threatening of all is the prospect of fracking across Beeston: the government just removed protection from Attenborough Nature Reserve, and licenses are being dished out. Broxtowe Borough Council just refused to oppose fracking across the borough. All Beeston councillors –a mix of Lib Dem and Labour – did oppose; but the ruling Tories have given the frackers the green light. We have interesting times ahead of us, but that’s what being a Beestonian is all about. Have a great Christmas and a Happy New Year. 2015 proved that Beeston works better together. Bring on 2016. LB

Forbidden Fruit We meet local film maker - Jonathan Hawes

ne of the true delights of running the Beestonian Film Club at Café Roya is getting to rummage through hours of locally produced shorts, mini crafted films that range as much in quality as they do prestige: from first-time filmmakers filming on a mobile phone, through to BAFTA winners such as Shane Meadows with a full crew in toe, it’s fascinating how much passion and imagination go into even the most shakily-shot, zerobudget effort.

Every now and then, a film comes along and once watched, demands a rewatch, just to check it was that good. This happened with Forbidden Fruit, a short I was recommended to take a look at while I was sipping a coffee. I dutifully fired up YouTube, and after it had played out over eight minutes, I decided to find out more. A film based almost solely round a dialogue between two Irish man sharing a sit down on a cemetery park bench, it manages to cram a tight, funny, yet plaintive script with a real maturity. I assumed it was made by a seasoned filmmaker, somewhere in Dublin. Perhaps the bloke who did In Bruges. It was a bit of a shock to find the auteur behind it was just 21. And from Beeston Rylands. And what I assumed was a park bench in Galway, or Dublin, was actually in Stapleford, in that huge cemetery on the hill. ‘I am a quarter Irish’ Jonathan concedes, when we eventually meet ‘But I was born here and have lived here all my life. I even went to Nottingham Uni. But I am a massive fan of In Bruges - in fact all of Martin McDonagh’s work - so that informed the film. We were lucky enough to get a couple of good Irish actors on board.’ Jonathan Hawes is a fresh-faced recent film fan who first picked up a camera when he was about 11, and earnestly set about trying to remake Hollywood smashes, notably Scorsese and Tarantino films, or the Kathy Bates claustrophobia-fest Misery. ‘I’d use a Sony Cybershot and just shoot. It was truly horrendous stuff, but vital: playing around is the best way to learn’. That developed attention to detail is evident in his work: no shot seems out of place, an artistic economy of style that many young filmmakers eschew, assuming you can just ‘point and shoot’ for results. How has Beeston influenced him? ‘There is a good film-making scene here, and having Nottingham close by really helps. There seems to be a lot of film-fans here; the Film Festival earlier in the year showed that.

It keeps you wanting to constantly improve your work. Plus, there are many good platforms for getting your work shown’. He tells me enthusiastically about the many talents he’s worked with, all talents bubbling under the surface, but ready to break through anytime. What, however, does he hope for the future? ‘I am a jack of all trades, so loads of stuff. If I had no money restrictions (Forbidden Fruit was filmed on a very low budget, despite its polished gleam) I’ve got this idea about a 110 year old guy that doesn’t age, who inadvertently starts a religion – but that’s been on the cards for years, so maybe it’s unmakeable! I’m a fan of the Coen Brothers, Woody Allen and (Charlie Brooker’s) Black Mirror series, so something like that. A film about a village bus crashing… and how the people on board react to the crash, a morality tale of sorts’. Whatever he gets to do, I’d advise keeping an eye out for Jonathan Hawes. Behind his modesty and innocuous appearance lies a talent that is as comfortable with the dark as the light. ” Jonathan Hawes will be showing Bitter Fruit at the Beestonian Film Club at Café Roya in the New Year. LB

Frankly Speaking P

eculiar to say the least, is the story of Mark Curwood and his pal, Frank.

Well, matter of fact, Mark himself is the least peculiar aspect of the story. Upon meeting him I met a seemingly mild-mannered middle aged individual, with a passionate devotion to acting and the art of filmmaking. Mark has had an interesting career in performance arts, the past few years seeing him involved in a ton of drama workshops at such venues as The Broadway and Lakeside among others.

Experimental Theatre! ‘It gave me a different perspective,’ Frank evangelises enthusiastically. ‘Life becomes a voyage of discovery.’ How so? ‘Well, take waiting for a bus that’s late. I’d usually be disgruntled and maybe have a chunter. But now I see inside the bus driver’s mind, I become his character. See his life and what his wife did earlier and why that’s made him late. I have the ability to expand into other people.’ Have you done any experimental theatre round here in Beeston?

In these workshops, according to him, he met Frank, who appeared out of the atmosphere of the unstructured, unscripted drama sessions. He’s brought Frank along with him today, as we meet one early afternoon at The White Lion, though he’s not made an entrance yet. The mild-mannered Mark sips his half ale and talks about theatre avidly while we wait for Frank to appear. After a pleasant chat, Mark excuses himself and disappears into the gents. We don’t see him again, strangely. But no matter, for a few minutes later, Frank emerges. Clad in tweed jacket and cap, with a bushy ‘tache and thick-rimmed specs, Frank could be your average senior in the Post Office pension queue. Yet Frank is no mere retiree with a penchant for natural fibres. Frank has discovered Experimental Theatre. Frank - just like Mark - has an insatiable love for theatre and for experimental theatre to be specific. He discovered this passion after reading an advertisement in a shop window for a local drama workshop. ‘It were an epiphany,’ Frank tells me. ‘My life had been a pit of despair for some time. I had a thing with a lady called Margaret. We were close. We had, errr, ‘taken steps’. I’d invested in her. But she did the dirty. I caught her ‘ en communicado with another man. My heart was broken.’ We pause a moment while Frank fights back a sob. ‘I went into a downwards spiral. Jeremy Kyle and microwave meals. I knew I’d hit rock bottom when I started to agree with Kyle.’ It was then that Frank saw the sign. Not one from God, but one that was no less religious to Frank.

here don’t write nothing at all,’ as an unneeded double negative. ‘No need for such sloppiness. This Springsteen fellow won’t make anything of himself if he carries on like that.’ I hope I have given you a glimpse into the enigmatic individual that is Frank. For all his shortcomings, there is a little of the eccentric that will force even the most troubled, nihilistic individual to crack a smile every now and again. I think what bamboozles me further is his friendship with the calm and easygoing Mark Curwood, who still hasn’t emerged from the gents. No matter, Frank has to go in a second so we had best get our final probing questions in. What’s your New Year Resolution, Frank? ‘Live Long, and Prosper.’ Is that original? ‘I think so.’ And what message for 2016 would you like to give our readers? He looks up, deep in thought, dropping his usual frantic frenetic gesticulations for an inspired, theatrical flourish. The muse is truly upon him. What spills forth is a creation of such original profundity we are rendered speechless and star-struck until long after he leaves the pub: ‘It was the Best of Times. It was the Worst of Times. Let’s all have a good time in 2016’.

“Oh yes. I sat by the Beeman with a sign round my neck saying, “Talk to Me!’’’ Did anyone? ‘No.’ Didn’t you perhaps try and lure them over with a Werther’s Original? Frank looks appalled. ‘I’m more into Fruit Salads and Black Jacks. Maybe next time I’ll take a flask. I’ll call it the Flask of Peace.’ Frank looks wistful, inspired. We decide to get him talking about his loves. Russel Crowe, for instance. ‘I like Russell Crowe a lot,’ he says. ‘I enjoyed Gladiator: that is a body built at work, not the gym!’ He carries on, ‘I hanker after that. Not good at pushing boulders though.’ He simply finished his thought by saying, ‘It’s a man crush.’ Any other actors you’re fond of? ‘I do like that Clooney fellow. I invited him on tour with me, but I’ve not got no response yet, so I might just use a cut out face of him glued to a stick.’ That might attract a fair amount of groupies. Do you get many already? ‘Art is my love. I love it, and it loves me back.’ So, any groupies? ‘No.’ Not only actors is he fond of, but also musicians. Bruce Springsteen in particular, who he nearly quotes correctly throughout. He specifically loves the song ‘Jungleland’ in which he admires the redemptive aspect of the lyrics. However, he insightfully picks out the line: ‘Poets down

Kemba Brown and LB

The Plough Play

“In comes I, who’s never been here before. There’s six more like me at the door.”

his opening line by Tom Fool, introduces our Plough Play, which is performed each January by the Foresters Morris Men. The Foresters are the oldest existing Morris Dance team in Nottingham and I have been dancing with them since an early age, nearly 19 years now! I was roped into joining by my father, Frank Earp.

The Foresters Morris Men (full title “The Foresters Morris and Sword Dancing Club”) was formed in 1952, and was the first Morris Dancing club in Nottingham. Since the side are near to Sherwood Forest, they have Robin Hood as their logo. Plough Plays are traditionally performed on Plough Monday, which is the first Monday after Twelfth Night. Plough Plays are very old (could possibly be ancient) and are ‘classically’ unique to the East Midlands region. Ross Parish, local folklorist and writer for the Nottingham Hidden History Team explains: “Originally, it created, – and still does, – a way of remembering the year and brings the community together in a form

of knock-about humour. Secondly, it was a way of raising money, primarily for the entertainers, but also to maintain a candle light over the plough in the church (a common pre-Reformation activity which may have survived beyond then in some communities) and more recently charity. Plough Monday plays, indeed the celebration of the day, was and remains an eastern England tradition, with Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire being, and remaining, their stronghold.” The pre-Christian idea for the origins of the play are hard to discredit. The play does have clear themes, suggesting a primitive marking of the turning of the year, the conflict between good and evil (light and dark) and resurrection (the beginning of the lighter period after the Winter solstice). Perhaps we shall never really know. The play involves essentially seven characters. In no particular order they are: Tom Fool, Farmer’s Man, A Recruiting Sergeant, Beelzebub and a Doctor. Perhaps the most interesting characters in the play are the two ‘drag queen’ characters, Dame Jane and the Lady Bright and Gay. This very odd assemblage creates an extraordinary sight, with onlookers often laughing and staring in disbelief. The Foresters were one of the first teams to revive the custom of performing Plough Plays in postwar years. Their play started many

years ago as an amalgam of local plough plays from Tollerton in Nottinghamshire, Long Bennington and Staunton (Lincolnshire) and, over years of performance, it has become well and truly their own. In January 2016, we will be performing the play around Beeston, the plan being to tour some of the public houses in Beeston. We will be performing on

Friday 15th January, with the pubs and times yet to be confirmed. So why not come down and watch a traditional English Folk Play. You might even wish to join the team! For more details of the play, details of the evening’s performances and the Foresters Morris in general, please visit our website at: www.chezfred.org.uk/for JE

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Bow

Selecta L

ike a medieval outlaw surrounded by the Sheriff’s men, the knights are drawing in. (Actually that really doesn’t work as well on paper – scrap the Robin Hood connection, I’ll start again).

In the very earliest tales Robin isn’t a dashing hero, in fact he’s really not a nice chap at all...

Christmas is always a time for tradition: festive foods (the Christmas Eve Balti from the Shadab on Wollaton Road is a must in our house); fun family gatherings; the Queen’s speech; a Doctor Who special; shops playing Greg Lake’s ‘I Believe in Father Christmas’ whenever Slade are taking a breather and arguments over whether ‘Die Hard’ counts as a Christmas film (Hint: Yes) are as inevitable as TV adverts for sales, cheap holidays, local carpet showrooms and DFS on Boxing Day. Oh, and dark winter nights are always good for ghost stories and horror films too. I love them, and as Christmas rushes towards us like the monster from the classic 1957 black and white ‘Night of the Demon’ (it’s just brilliant, if you haven’t watched it – do), I realised that in the bustle of day-to-day existence people can lose sight of some of the really important questions in life. So, if you haven’t thought about it before… where in Beeston would you go in case of a ‘The Walking Dead’style zombie uprising? I spend a lot of time as Robin Hood in Nottingham Castle and I often wonder how long that could hold out against ravening hordes of shambling, necrotic undead – pretty well I think. It has nice thick walls, heavy gates and secret exits through the cave system for food scavenging runs. Add in a fine selection of pointy weapons for defence and at least initially some very nice ham and mustard rolls, pastries, drinks and ice creams in the café and it’s all good... But what about Beeston – where would you go? Grabbing food and clothes shouldn’t be too much of a problem, we have more than our fair share of supermarkets and we can be justifiably proud of some of our great independent food shops too, so you’ll easily be able to acquire enough food to get you started at least. (Please note, The

Beestonian editorial team does NOT advocate looting food except in the unlikely instance of a supernatural cannibal apocalypse. And even then you’ll still have to pay an extra 5p per carrier bag in Sainsbury’s, Lidl and Tesco, OK?).

Our plethora of charity shops should do you for clothes, random Jeremy Clarkson DVDs and, if you’re lucky, a set of golf clubs to wave in a vaguely menacing way at any glassy-eyed soulless revenant lurching towards you – although please ensure this is actually a pre-deceased yet ambulatory corpse and not just someone who’s spent too much time Christmas shopping. But what then? Where’s the best place to hide? Some may suggest ‘upstairs in WH Smiths’ (as no-one ever goes there), or Wilkos or Applebees because they’re full of such useful stuff - but I’m not sure they’re so easily defensible. No, if cinema has taught me anything, it’s that we need to go somewhere safe, with food, drink and a reasonable amount of space for the army helicopters to swoop in at the last minute and save us. Tesco might do but it’s all a bit open plan and you have to be over eighteen before they’ll let you have anything remotely pointy. The churches might be good too – nice thick walls obviously, but not much in the way of provisions - and anywhere down near Broadgate is right out because of the number of students there (if the zombies are after brains it’ll be like an ‘all you can eat’ diner there for a while). Which means it has to be a pub. We’ve got enough in Beeston (lots of them are very good indeed) but I’m thinking (with apologies to the rest) The White Lion. A few stout doors, thick walls, food, drink and if the power’s still on, a cinema! Oh, and the building site across the road? Perfect for those rescue helicopters. So to paraphrase a line from ‘Shaun of the Dead’: Let’s go to the pub, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over. Come to think of it - who needs a zombie apocalypse? I think I might just do that for the rest of 2015 anyway… you coming? Tim Pollard Nottingham’s Official Robin Hood

The Tuscan Raiders B

ack in the summer, Marysia Zipser from Beeston’s ACT (Art, Culture, Tourism) Group announced that she was organising a weeklong trip to Tuscany in late October, with the goal of getting the region twinned with Beestonia. Christopher Frost went on this inaugural journey of friendship with his wife Gail, Marysia and five others. Here’s his report.

I’ve always found travelling a daunting experience. Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy visiting different places at home and abroad, for photography of course and seeing how different people live. But it’s the hassle of digging out the passport, exchanging money and the sheer hell of packing. Why do you always end up taking too little, or too much? However, Gail & I have always wanted to visit Italy. The closest I’ve got is eating pizza and ice cream and driving a Fiat 500. The first stop was Florence. Two days in the UNESCO World Heritage Site. Our guide Loredana led the way down narrow roads telling us about the town as we walked. With four photographers on the trip there was much stopping and starting: we were all looking for ‘that shot’. I was attracted to the large number of visitors taking photos with their selfie sticks in the Piazza del Duomo. It really is a paradise for street photography. There are plenty of old buildings and statues for the architecture photographers to enjoy. In fact I have never seen so many statues in one city - practically every building has something of interest. Next was Arezzo. An early start as we were firstly meeting up with Francesca Rossato, who runs a guesthouse just outside Arezzo. She was lovely and besides offering tea and cakes, she presented us each with a bottle of Chianti, a wine that I’ve never tried before. I just hope it doesn’t turn me into another Hannibal Lector. Francesca plans to link up with the University of Nottingham, so their language, art and architectural students can experience the real Italy for themselves. We then drove into the town, strolled more narrow cobbled streets and watched the world go by whilst we had lunch. Then we were back in the van and took the hour-long drive to Cortona, a small town in the mountains, which in a way reminded me of visiting Matlock Bath, but without the motorbikes and fish & chip shops. Staying in a different hotel almost every night I began to feel like a rock star on a world tour. Just as we were settling down, it was onto the next stop: Radicofani, another small hilltop town in the Monte Amita region. We met

the mayor, and Marysia presented him with a bag of goodies from Beeston, including a copy of the Beestonian magazine, a specially adapted model Barton’s bus, which Simon Barton had made to look like his Ghost Bus, and a shawl from GH Hurt. We were then shown around the town, including the main church that had a religious frieze reported to be several hundred years old, and was made of some special glazed pottery, the secret of which had died with the artist. We also learnt about Ghino de Tacho, their Robin Hood, and had some group photos taken standing around his statue. After lunch, we were escorted to a splendid 1000 year old fortress. It was a 137 step journey to the top of the tower, but the effort was worth it, as the views of the surrounding area were spectacular. Apparently you can just about make out Rome in the distance. Sadly we wouldn’t be staying in this quaint village overnight, but in Abbadia San Salvadore, which is a lot more modern. Sunday morning, and a short drive to the mountain-top village of Piancastagniao. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when we entered their community theatre. It was quite big, with perhaps 150 or so seats. There was a stage in front with a long table with lots of small olive trees in plastic bags on top. Then the mayor, dressed in a suit and sash emblazoned with the colours of the Italian flag, welcomed everyone. Marysia gave a short speech in Italian about artist Roberto Alborghetti, the Ghost Bus and Beeston. She then presented both Roberto and the Mayor with another ‘I Love Beeston’ bag of goodies, and we watched a revised version of the Ghost Bus film. Finally the special Volcano Dress was unveiled. Roberto and Mitrani Yarden, the designer, wheeled out the dress on a mannequin. It looked really unusual, red and black in colour: the only one in the world. Siena would be our last port of call on the trip. A really lovely medieval town, with time to take things easy and catch up on some shopping, after a week of sightseeing, eating delicious food and meeting mayors. Before we knew it, it was the last day of our Tuscan tour, and we were heading back home. I thought that the whole experience had been a great success. We saw some fantistic places that Gail and I want to return to. We also met some great travelling companions, who I can safely say are now firm friends. Our little band of Tuscan Raiders. As for the proposed twinning? It would be fantastic for this to happen. Maybe Beeston will gain an Italian influence somehow. Ciao duck. CF

Not Just Charity Shops Y

ou may well have heard local doom-mongers and naysayers running down Beeston on social media, in the pub, at the bus stop, or waiting outside the GU clinic.

If there’s any on here you’ve never heard of, pay them a visit. Broadgate and the High Road in particular have some hidden gems which don’t benefit from as much passing trade. JC

Now that the town is open for business again after the tramworks, some amongst us feel the need to spread misery and negativity, with remarks ranging from the everyday whine, ‘Why would anyone want to come to Beeston?’ to the classic mantra, ‘There’s nothing here but charity shops and coffee shops’. The fact is that for a town of its size, Beeston does really well in terms of the number and variety of shops, pubs, restaurants and other attractions. Compared to similar-sized towns on the doorsteps of major cities, we have a wealth of independent retailers to complement the usual high street chains. There follows a list of places in which to spend your hard-earned, be it on food, drink, clothes, furniture, musical instruments, jewellery, beauty treatments, pet food, wool, bicycles, fresh flowers, screwdrivers, candles or mobile phones etc. A line had to be drawn somewhere, so whilst the businesses on Queen’s Road are listed, I haven’t included any of the great ones at the Chilwell Creative Corner. Also not listed are a lot of service providers like doctors, dentists, architects, estate agents, solicitors, podiatrists, opticians, banks, building societies, betting shops, pharmacies, funeral parlours, launderettes etc. Whilst there are a lot of great convenience stores and off licences to go round, they aren’t included either.

Beeston Listings Pubs/bars/entertainment The Victoria The Greyhound The Malt Shovel The Commercial The Queens The Cricketers The White Lion The Crown The Hop Pole The Last Post The Chequers The Bar Victory Club Bartons Mecca Bingo Sun Valley Amusements

Food/drink Hallams Local Not Global Deli L’Oliva Out Of This World Sweets n Treats Thorntons Fresh Asia Maharaba Home Made Bakery Greggs Pick n Mix Birds Upper Crust Bakery Meat 4u Barnsdales Butchers Iceland

House and home/furniture Blacklocks Carpets Kings Carpets Fireplace and Stove Shop Linen Box Cameron House Bargain Carpets Queens Road Beds and Furniture Iguazu Furniture Discount Store Classique Interiors Heidi’s Home Furnishings Beeston Bed Centre Betel Hallams Garden Centre Lifestyle Kitchens and Bathrooms Bathtime

Beeston Listings House and home/furniture (Ctd) Auntie Gwen’s Attic The Fabric Shop/Curtain & Fabrics Hicklings DIY Applebees Fox Electrical Anglian Home Improvements Appliance Services Floorcraft Handybloke Clothing/footwear Stash New Look Peacocks Bon Marche Jolie Renaissance Little Shoe Shop Coffee Shops Bean Costa Greenhoods Metro Caffe Nero Coffee Cup Cafe Mason and Mason Restaurants/takeaways Edwards Relish Latinos Flying Goose Cafe Mr Falafel Gills Fish and Chips Tastie Bites Oriental Inn King Cod Cottage Balti Granary

Cafe Roya Yiannis Ghurkha Express Sanchans Sukho Thai Nosh The Food Bar Amores Dancing Dragon Shengwah Chaman 39 Humber Road Chippy Table 8 Luckys Hing Kee Forno Pizza Poppa Pizza Pizza Palace Pizza Zone Papa Johns Nimboo Spices Shama Better Than Home Gourmet Delights Pizza Hut Korea House Rye Yod Siam Pink Wing at Durham Ox KFC The Cob on the Corner Subway Aras Charcoal Grill Beeston Break Big Fish Hong Kong Takeaway Ko Sing Takeaway Shadab Balti

Specialist retailers The Guitar Spot Crossplay Music Ryman Stationers Singer-Pfaff Sewing and Knitting John Kirk Hi-Fi The Flower Shop Petsmart Holland and Barrett Artworks Timpson Yarn Opus Frames Electronic Cigarettes Cheque and Buy Back Centre Grainger Games Money Shop Cash Converters Beeston Cobbler Entertainment Exchange Happy Daze Impact Nutrition Refan Parfumerie Tornari Sports Pro-Teq Mobility Chinese Medicine Centre Parkgate Mobility Max Speilman Total Fitness Candela PH Ultra Sport Cycle Inn (Sid Standard) Chimera Rocky Riders Pot n Kettle Clock Emporium Beeston Bookshop Charlie Fogg’s

Beeston Listings Greetings/Gifts/Jewellers Andrew McCulloch Ideas Onyx Goldsmiths Dianeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Cabin Becass House of Ashley Peake ROK Jewellery Card Factory Cardzone

ET Salon Aurora Laser Clinic Cast Bronze Rachel Fletcher Hair Design Pastiche Five Star Nails Hair by Neil Peter Brady Hair Euphoria Beauty

Hair and Beauty Chess Capelli Intricut Cutting Edge Keiths KH Hair Eaton Mint Hair Boutique Brigitte Hair by Pam Charleys Salon Keith Benniston PL Hair Design Hair Company Hairforce Stephen Harrold Bleu Square 17 Broadgate Barbers Michael Stark BeastOnInk Capones ID Infinity Nails Cutting It

Charity shops Scouts Sue Ryder Cancer Research UK Rainbows Oxfam Oxfam Books and Music Salvation Army British Heart Foundation Treetops Hospice Barnardos PDSA

Phone/Technology Tele-box Vodafone Bubble IT Carphone Warehouse O2 Mobiles Plus Dr Mobile Large Chain retailers Boots Post Office WH Smiths Argos Lidl Tesco Sainsburys Travel Cooperative Travel Skills Homewares Poundmart Poundland B and M Bargains Wilko Home Bargains Sporting Puregym Dojo Warrior Martial Arts Team Elite Kickboxing

FESTIGRAMS WE HAVE SCRAMBLED SOME CHRIMBO WORDS: UNSCRAMBLE!

1. Trims Cash 2. Spice in â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;em 3. Thick Massacre 4. Deplored, He Is The Odder Runner 5. Mistletoe 6. Wretches Flash Steady Vomit 7. Ugly Leo 8. Tense Aggresions 9. My Charmer Stirs 10. The Rich Mr Fat Ass 11. Smart Heretics, Merriest Chats 12. Is A Tin Poet 13. Let Things In ANSWERS: Christmas/Mince Pies/Christmas Cake/Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer/Most Elite/The Twelve Days Of Christmas/Yule Log/ Seasons Greetings/Merry Christmas/Father Christmas/Christmas Tree/ Poinsettia/Silent Night

CODEWORD

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Feel Good Shopping Jade Moore tells us why our abundance of charity shops is a good thing.

t is a truth universally acknowledged that Christmas is a time for giving, and it is a truth locally acknowledged that Beeston has an abundance of charity shops.

So, why not make the most of them? They are treasure troves when it comes to looking for gifts and you never know, you might find exactly what you set out to buy, and you’ll be helping a charity, too. It’s a fool proof Christmas plan (especially if you’re on a budget, as I always seem to be!) Whether they know it or not, my friends and family have received charity shop bought items and loved them. I take pleasure from finding a pristine copy of a book in a charity shop, removing the 99p sticker and having my friend believe that they are worth the £8.99 they think I paid. Saving money, helping a good cause, pleasing a friend – I can’t think of a better solution, and this is something we can implement in our lives at any point during the year. If, like me, you don’t give to a charity on a monthly basis, there are plenty of chances to do your bit and I think here in Beeston we are lucky to have a wide range of charity shops along the High Road.

We can dip in and out of them as we please, pick up a bargain and help charities that range from Scouts, to The British Heart Foundation, to Cancer Research, to helping fight poverty with Oxfam. If you happen to be perusing the shops of a Saturday afternoon, pop into Oxfam Books and Music and you’ll find me there filling the shelves with more books, or standing behind the counter mentally urging you to find and buy a book. I’ve volunteered for Oxfam for just over four years and I can’t emphasise enough how much I enjoy it and appreciate the work that Oxfam does for poverty. This time of year, you can buy extra Christmassy things. We have traditionally festive cards as well as funny ones. Our Unwrapped Gifts are more popular at Christmas too: if you don’t know what to buy someone, why not buy them a goat (or two)? If you give to charity regularly already, then keep up the good work! If not, then now is the time to start. Treat yourself, treat others, and take comfort from being able to help many brilliant causes. JM

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The Oxjam Mix

s the memory of this year’s fantastic Beeston Oxjam Festival – £17K, best in the entire UK – fades, it’s worth pointing out that, amazing though the main event on October 17 was, other ‘fundraisers’ brought in a bit of extra cash and also kept the ‘Beeston Oxjam’ brand prominent in the minds of local people.

Best supported this year were the Music Quiz, the Ceilidh, ‘Oxjam Introducing..’ and ‘Classical Oxjam’. Each caters for a different ‘target demographic’ who don’t necessarily get much prominence on the ‘big day’ : folkies, under-19s and the ‘more mature’ end of the market! ‘Classical Oxjam’ arose in 2014, as an attempt to bring in that different audience and, so far, we seem to have been successful: last year was a big turnout and this year we virtually packed out the lovely Beeston Parish Church. The aim

– which audience members told us after the event we got about right – was to provide a variety and nothing too ‘heavy’ in classical terms. We recognize that some people who might feel a bit wary of the ‘classical’ label could, nonetheless, be lured in by a range of music and performers and engaged by some tuneful, perhaps even familiar, pieces. Like the main Oxjam event, we don’t try to get well-known acts, but find extremely talented local amateurs. This year’s ‘stand-out’ acts for me were recent Nottingham Uni music graduate, Hannah Cresswell, who played several flute pieces including two unaccompanied polkas, and an outstanding version of a Vivaldi piece on the piccolo; and ‘Persiflage’, a five piece saxophone ensemble whose music ranged from Tudor to a piece recently commissioned for their tenth anniversary. We also got some lovely harp playing from Christine Palethorpe, whom you might have seen busking in Beeston occasionally, with a well-known piece by Bach and something modern that was familiar from a bank advert – she also played as the audience arrived, which was well-received; there was

Wollaton-based guitar duo, ‘Marking Time’, who opened with a samba and finished with Saint-Saens’ ‘The Swan’; our very own Carly Collingwood played two delightful Chopin Etudes whilst our ‘house band’, ‘Il Bel Quattro’, an operatic quartet formed last year especially for Oxjam, gave us some Verdi and Mozart and ended with ‘The Hallelujah Chorus’, sounding remarkably full with just four voices and a piano. The evening was brought to a rousing close by The Nottingham University String Orchestra whose final piece, oddly for a socalled ‘classical’ concert, was an arrangement of ‘Kashmir’ by Led Zeppelin! Since the concert, many people have approached me – personally, or online – to say how much they enjoyed it, often picking a different ‘favourite’ from me, which just goes to show the benefit of variety. I’m already planning for next year so, if you know of an up-and-coming classical musician or act who might like to play, get in touch via The Beestonian. CT

Food 3: Carrot Ninja E

xciting Times! I made a curry and our daughter ate a carrot! I kid you not, Beestonians, there’s enough keratine in this kid to shoot lasers from her eyeballs and live in a burrow. She stole it from the kitchen as I threw vegetables into a pan, scurried off and ate the entire thing while I wasn’t watching. THIS IS HUGE. Regular readers of all 2 columns I’ve written so far will know she refuses to eat nonbeige food. Carbs are her life. And now, carrots. At this rate she’ll have tried broccoli by the time she’s at uni. The curry was a roaring success by the way. One jar of Patak’s and every vegetable I could find in Morrison’s made the best meal we’ve had in ages. I chucked in stuff I’d never even heard of. There were Chantaney carrots, courgettes, diced sweet potato, kidney beans, chopped tomatoes, quorn chunks (because I’m no good at cooking meat without poisoning my family),

tenderstem broccoli, posh mushrooms, pak choi (??), cauliflower, some chillies, something that looked like a cat turd – grated it in case it was - going to assume it was ginger, chick peas and something tinned which was rejected by the school harvest festival collection. In short, I could not recreate this curry. It was a giant monolith of vitamins and I think we all learned a lot that day. To the gentlemen who wrote in last month worried I’d end up dead of diabetes soon, fear not. Firstly, thank you for my first piece of fan mail! Secondly, I am healthier than a herbivore. My hair is glossy and my nose is wet. Sleep peacefully, knowing your concern has not gone unnoticed despite my hectic life, 2 jobs and small daughter. You can add curry wizard to my CV. In other culinary news, I tackled herbal tea this month. It really was a life changing 30 days, reader. I have fairly acute insomnia (helpful with 2 jobs and a toddler), so I decided to let the billion pound tea industry do what it said on its expensive but beautiful tin. My findings were conclusive and swift. All herbal tea tastes, to me, like licking a battery. And not in the fun way. It did not bring untold sleep riches, I do not feel ‘herbal’ and it certainly didn’t cure my

insomnia. Chamomile shmamomile. It kept me up even later than usual thanks to the late night toilet runs. So yeah, herbal tea. Jog on. Stick that on your £2.99 recycled cardboard packaging. That’s really all I have to say about that. Join me next time as I try to cook Christmas dinner with the £1.80 I have left of my overdraft, and read how my daughter reacts to being told she can’t eat all the Christmas decorations. FUN IS COMING. DL

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eing as writing about Beeston Music was becoming a bit of a chore, what was I going to do next: interview myself or maybe talk to Emma Bladon Jones about Joe Barber? Nah…

I’ve changed departments, think of me as your very own Jay Rayner, or maybe Jay if he had taken the road less travelled and liked booze more than food. For the slightly less quick of you to catch on, I am reviewing an eatery. The rest of this review is best read in the voice of Keith Floyd…. Don’t make me hangry, you wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry. Dear reader you may be wondering what the f*** I’m on about? A while back a friend of mine told me about an episode of hanger that she had endured (yes you Rebecca Louise). As I politely asked what on earth she meant (defined by the Urban Dictionary as ‘When you are so hungry that your lack of food causes you to become angry, frustrated or both’) I realised I had for many years suffered with severe hangryness. I mean really bad - there’s a list of incidents but my top three would go like this: 1. Having an ex girlfriend in tears over a bacon sandwich (I like it well done - it wasn’t!); 2. Throwing a bagel at someone as it had the wrong type of ham on; 3. Going absolutely PND Advert 1/8 page_Layout 1 02/12/2014 fuck nuts in Market Harborough town centre over, you guessed, a bacon cob - threw it at a bin > Creative Design and screamed obscenities at it as > Corporate passers-by looked Branding puzzled. > Copywriting & Editing

> Print & On-line established, So hangry sensibilities let’s try and get near this review. > Brochures > Newsletters > Marketing Materials > Conference Branding

It was a typical Wednesday, late morning an attack of the aforementioned hangry had resulted in me chucking spanners at my small father despite his pleas for me to “Stop growling and snarling and throwing things like some crazy t***”. It was decided I be despatched to go and eat and weirdly, buy some

placed with Jugganaut (he was great at Oxjam), I took me a table and some coffee and pondered if an attack of hangry would occur. First café faux pas – I put salt in my coffee. I once told my drinking counsellor that I had a morbid fear of any type of café: incidents such as this prove why. This minor

TheHangry Games more spanners. My destination to eat randomly turned out to be Edwards canteen/kitchen on Wollaton Road. You see, it was near the spanner shop. I had met Edward himself previous to this. He seemed a nice guy, his description of his establishment initially struck me as a bit odd - almost Nathan Barleyesque - something about having a chef who is also a rapper called Jugganaut, street food and proper sausages. He had me at ‘sausages’, another hangry victim - the thought of cheap shitty plastic sausage that would make you rather eat a dog turd. So I rocked up wanting nothing more than his promise of proper sausage (I’ve just read this back and 16:05 Page 1 chuckled at the innuendo, almost Matt Turpin worthy in its awfulness!)

incident was handled wonderfully by Edward and Jugganaut with humour and more coffee. My food arrived in good time and was served to me on some kind of wooden plank. My chips were in a little pan that made me feel like a giant. There was even a side dish

of some tomato-type relish. Having managed not to put sugar on my chips I got stuck in. Now I’m not one for hyperbole, I’m also not much of a foodie, BUT this was the best food I have consumed for a whole year, the only close competition being a curry I had in Hyson Green last year. What else can I say? Go there. I suppose I could have put more facts in and talked about food, but, instead, go and experience it yourself: to taste is to know. Any readers who think the quality of my food reviewing is lax – p*** off! I met Jay Rayner once and I suspect you haven’t.

Ok one small detail: to throw my already bad reputation for boozing in your faces again, if you go on a Sunday, you can have a Bloody Mary with your breakfast, but, maybe if you ask him nicely, he will just give you straight vodka, to my mind, the true breakfast of champions. JW

PND Advert 1/8 page_Layout 1 02/12/2014 16:05 Page 1

As I perused the menu in the window, all thoughts of sausage left me. French Croque with béchamel and I could have it with proper chips. Mr Hangry was sold. Order

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The Zombie

Nation

ay, way back at the end of October, the age old pagan tradition of Halloween beckoned to party goers who more often than not, dug out sexy rather than scary outfits to be displayed at a choice of many hauntingly themed nights across the country.

So what on earth does this have to do with anything? Well being one of those individuals dolled up in a scary ass zombie kangaroo outfit (rather more gore than scantily clad, I’m afraid) I hopped on down to the all night rave at Barton’s plc. The line up looked immense, old skool (with a k); djs donned the wheels of steel (or quite possibly cd djs!)

, legends such as dance veterans Brandon Block and the always delightful Alistair Whitehead. The night was young and proceeding into the small hours when almost suddenly it hit me how different ‘clubbing’ nowadays is. Yesteryear was surrounded in a cliché of chatting to the fellow clubber sat next to you, blurbing with instant verbal diarrhoea in an incoherent babble about whatever intellectual thought dwelling inside a mixmaginduced brain came out first.

In complete contrast was this night, i asked a fellow reveller what dj was playing the set and was met immediately with a stony glaze, followed by a quick eye dart around the room and an ‘Oh,there’s my friends!’ at which she scattered into the night, terrified an actual human being had made contact. Chatting to a

stranger had never felt so alien. At that moment the only drunken person in the room stumbled past, at which every phone in the room lit up the darkness, taking photos and giggling at the sight, instragam and bookfaced around the world in a second. Nowadays seems to be completely a whole new experience the digital era completly alludes me. The whole concept of being caught up in the moment and letting go is cast aside for fear of being socially ridiculed. Saying all this though, many people there enjoyed the experience and I must admit all the costumes and make up were spot on. This night wasn’t the only time I have witnessed such strange modern behaviour. Every gig I go to my view is shielded by people recording the experience on their phones! More often than not it’s

the seven foot dude / dudette that stands in front of me clicking away taking a multitude of photos leaving me a view of their armpits. Don’t even get me started on people who spend all night on their smart phones rather than talk to you when they are out socially! The information age has so much to offer that it’s shocking how far backwards we have advanced. I do wonder how many of these revellers can actually look back and shudder at the foolish way they looked, danced or who they pulled, smile, then quickly forget about it safe in the knowledge that any evidence has long since been forgotten about and the thought of tagging hasn’t even been mentioned. After my grumpy rant I want to say thank you to my generation for not being techno zombies and living in the moment. LD

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The Beestonian is... Editor/Lead Writer/Founder • Lord Beestonia Co-Founder/Resident Don • Prof J Design • Dan Associate Editor • Christian Business Manager • Mel History Editor • Joe Earp

Top-notch contributors this issue: Joe Earp, Chris Fox, Colin Tucker, John ‘Poolie’ Cooper, Christopher Frost, Kemba Brown, Jimmy Wiggins, Dan Cullen, Tim Pollard, Mel Heath, Ric Salinger, Lulu Davenport, Mike Spencer, Karen Attwood, Daisy Leverington, Phoelyx Delaney, Dr Peter Robinson and Deman. Printed by Pixels & Graphics, Beeston

Stockists:

Rye, The Hop Pole, The Crown, The White Lion, The Star, The Greyhound, Flying Goose, Mish Mash Gallery, The Malt Shovel, The Guitar Spot, Relish, Broadgate Laundrette, Bubba Tea, The Bean, Beeston Library, Cafe ROYA, Newsagent on Chilwell Road, Metro, Beeston Marina Bar and Cafe, Attenborough Nature Reserve.

Gossip from the

HIVE MIND **** A bizarre month kicked off when Beeston Square’s Christmas Tree went viral around the UK press due to its unfortunate lean, and eventual removal. All down to vandals, apparently (unlike those who chopped down the trees in the old bus station, of course). Although there is an alternative theory going around (see The Beest comic strip below). Luckily, a new, stubbier but theft proof tree took its place and Christmas was saved **** **** She hangs out with Madonna, has a BAFTA to her name and is probably the best actor in the UK right now (Benedict who?) but when it comes down to it, Vicky McClure is still very much a Nottingham lass with a proper Nottingham mum. When Vicky was recently honoured with having a tram named after her, the Totonian thespian was let loose in the driver’s seat (it was stationary at the depot, not trundling through town). She took great delight in ringing the bells and pressing the horn into what began to sound like the world’s first public transport rave (the Venga Bus doesn’t count). This built

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into a frenzy, until her mam got on board and told her ‘Give over, Vicky, you’ll bleddy break it’. If only we’d filmed it, we could have been the next Shane Meadows *****

**** It’s the season of goodwill to all men, even a daft local councillor who, after a few ales, decides to pronounce that he ‘was the inspiration for Oxjam’. Which is weird, cos he never volunteered himself in the five years it was running. In vino veritas, we’ll show that spirit of Christmas and keep him anonymous **** **** Beeston is to get a pair of bollards - stop sniggering at the back - welcoming people to the town, pending planning permission. We like the idea, but can’t not feel disappointed that our idea of a 200ft steel bee built right over the town, with the yellow bits gold plated, the sting made out of titanium and a dispenser that drops a gallon of sweet honey on the hour, every hour, was rejected at the first stage. What do we pay our council tax for, eh? ****

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