Blog 14

Reading down the list of theatre productions in London there are something like twenty musicals including a number of revivals. With the cost of mounting musicals these days this is really quite surprising. What happened to the minimum cast one set play managements always used to be asking for? I notice “Spamalot” is still there and thought, if Gilbert and Sullivan allegedly wrote a pornographic opera for the edification of their friends, maybe I should write a pornographic musical based on the legendary mythical court of King Arthur and call it “Spermalot.” I’m sure it would be a mega hit! Apart from a lot of symbolism and saucy double entendrés; lances, body armour, swords, cods, round tables, turrets, crennelations, swoonings, spoonings and moonings it could actually all be terribly innocent and frustrating right until the end when the eleven o’clock number could be off with a bang, off with the chastity belts, and then it’s lions rampant before the final curtain and everyone goes home happy, maybe for a spot of the real thing to the rhythm of the big number that brings down the curtain on act one. It couldn’t be worse than the original “Camelot” which I saw in Richmond, Virginia and hated to the point of embarrassment.
Have just finished reading Paul O’Grady’s autobiography, “At My Mother’s Knee – and other low joints” (an old music hall gag methinks?) and thoroughly enjoyed it. Whipped through it in a couple of days and, at one point, laughed so much I could have done myself a serious injury. As the book ends with the end of his teens and on a cliff-hanging note, I presume, hopefully, there will be more to come.
Stopping at Papyrus in Kalyves yesterday I browsed through their selection of second-hand paperbacks and can verily believe 120000 books in English are published every year. Just how many people are out there scribbling away all over the English speaking world? And what is it about a book that makes one want to buy it? They’re all top of the best seller lists, according to their publishers but although I recognised a number of names and was fairly intrigued by a number of titles there wasn’t one in which there was interest enough for me to make a purchase. I have, anyway, enough reading matter to last me quite a while. Apart from “Half of a Yellow Sun” that I am finding much more interesting than “Purple Hibiscus” which I gave up on, I have five books on loan which are, in no order of preference: “The Wood Beyond” by Reginald Hill, “Dead Simple” by Peter James, “The Outcast” by Sadie Jones, “The Ghost” Robert Harris and “Azincourt” by Bernard Cornwell.
So what have we been watching on TV? Well there has been nothing to speak of from any of the Greek stations so it’s been all DVDs. Still enjoying “Ugly Betty”, the second series, though did not like the episode with Alexis and Daniel doing their paint battle bit. Found this all rather silly, unbelievable, and consequently irritating. But that is the exception. Still don’t know what happened in Mexico to allow Mister Suarez to escape certain death! Did the son shoot his father, shoot himself, or put a hole in the ceiling? Maybe this will be explained in a later episode. Watched ten minutes or so of “Happy Feet” before walking out on that one. Douglas lasted a little longer but we evidently both missed, according to Chris who watched it to the end with the aid of the fast forward, the environmental message in the movie and the homage to various musicians whose music we’re not familiar with anyway. I seem to remember “The Quiet American” wasn’t all that well received by the critics but that one we did enjoy.

Blog 12

The Greeks are mad about football. There are matches shown virtually every night on one or other of the TV channels and, of course, matches are well attended. The noise of chanting and drumming can sometimes be deafening as flags are waved and banners unfurled. Sometimes I wonder what the fans sitting behind the overlarge banners and having their sightlines obscured think of it. Presumably fights don’t break out in these cases as they are all on the same side, separated from their opponents and wearing their team colours to show their allegiance; a whole stand of red, green, orange, or whatever. I wonder if mankind will ever lose the tribal instinct. Sometimes sight can also be obscured by the flares that send clouds of coloured smoke wafting over the field of battle. Naturally hooliganism can be a problem. An Anek ferry was once trashed by Panathaniakos fans and idiots will toss missiles and run on to the pitch if given half a chance. At one match the start was interminably delayed as fans sitting behind one of the goalposts hurled what looked like toilet rolls streaming onto the goal and neighbouring area as ground staff desperately tried to clear it, all the time more streamers descending so that the pitch area was a sea of white. What a waste of paper if nothing else and in aid of what may one ask? Simply delaying the inevitable outcome by twenty or so minutes? Panathaniakos is an Athens club. Their great rivals are Olympiakos based in Piraeus. Olympiakos have won the championship so many years in a row it’s a wonder the other teams even bother to take them on anymore. If the Greeks are mad on football they’re just as crazy for basketball, simply called “basket.” I can appreciate, enjoy, enthuse over most sports but basket is a game, like golf, that I simply cannot enthuse over. I find them both extremely boring but obviously millions don’t. The clubs have their basketball as well as their soccer teams.
I was pleased to discover the Greeks are taking to rugby. There are already a number of teams (well a few) up and down the country and Greece has fielded a national side against other small nations. Hopefully one day they might take on the big boys though Italy has been trying for a long time with not much success. I now read in the Athens News that the venue for the equestrian events at the Olympic Games is to be the new home of Greek CRICKET!! Wonders will never cease.

Blog 10

Although I am sure the worst is over (I haven’t seen any news today) I don’t suppose I could let time go by without mentioning the recent riots in various Greek cities. It’s not bad enough that beautiful Athens gets trashed by graffiti vandals and litter louts it has to be truly trashed by mindless rampaging mobs. The Greeks love demonstrations. Teachers, students, trade unionists, they’ll organise a march under banners at the drop of a hat but normally these rallies, no matter how large, seem to pass off more or less peacefully. The kind of mindless outrage seen these last few days is the work of those claiming to be socialist (left wing anyway), communist or, here in Greece I don’t know whether they still exist anywhere else these days, anarchists, or just into it for the hell of causing mayhem and grief. There will always be looters in these situations and bank buildings always seem to be the first to suffer the fury of these idiots but why in heavens’ name destroy the livelihood of small shopkeepers and the like by trashing their premises, in some cases deliberately demolishing buildings with fire? Perhaps pyromaniacs and mobsters have to be included in the list of the numbers rioting. It’s possible the demonstrations could have been peaceful until these latter mentioned set the tone and the sheep thought it rather an adventure to follow suit and terribly brave to mask their faces, throw missiles at police and then run away as fast as their legs could take them, rather like Cretan dogs that will bark at you until you advance in their direction when they turn tail and flee to a safe distance in order to carry on barking but out of harm’s way. Walking down from Syntagma to Panapestimeo once as a student demo was about to take place I noticed a small group of students(?) keeping themselves aloof and virtually out of sight while they got their balaclavas and whatever else ready for the battle they were obviously anticipating. I had no doubts then and still haven’t that they were no more students than I could jet to the moon on a fart and it was no wonder the riot police were already taking up position in various side streets long before the march was due to take place. It seemed to me though in watching the TV coverage of the latest outrages that the police, apart from lobbing tear gas at their assailants were being pretty ineffective but that was just an impression. Who am I to know police procedure and, as their shooting of a fifteen year old started the rot, maybe they were being ultra-cautious so as not to inflame matters further – as though they could! The riots have been followed by a general strike, another favourite occupation in Greece.

Waiting to be published: JUST IN CASE – Second Thornton King adventure.
DEAD ON TARGET – Third Thornton King adventure.
ANGEL – Novel.
Plus at least sixteen plays and a chapter of lyrics from various musicals.
Evidently because of the gaggle of Glyn Joneses on the internet (and I always knew there were far too many in the world at large) from now on I am, at the instigation of my editor/agent, to use my full name of Glyn Idris there being no other Glyn Idris, which I find rather surprising. There is an Idris Glyn but he ain’t me. I think the two Thornton King books will have to omit the Idris as the first one is already published without it but there’s nothing to stop using Idris after that and Amazon are already advertising RIVER OF SAND by Glyn Idris Jones. I still can’t fathom out how they got hold of that. NO OFFICIAL UMBRELLA is already printed without the Idris. That is we are still waiting for the amended proof but any day now, any day now he says hopefully. Mind you, in a recession, is it the right time to even think of publishing? Are people still buying books? Having finished THE VICTORIAN UNDERWORLD I am now half way through VICTORIAN SENSATION by Michael Diamond, a much broader canvas giving quite an insight into the mindset of Victorian England. The chapter on religion and morality (meaning sex of course) was quite fascinating and am now on the following chapter of sexual scandals. Am looking forward to the rest of it. Tried last night to watch THE DA VINCI CODE and gave up after about twenty minutes. Too much for my tired old brain. Am also seriously thinking, after more than seventy thousand words and a few months work of giving up on ENTER ANTHONY. It just isn’t very good. It was a bad play to begin with, only slightly improved but still a bad play when rewritten a year or so ago, and it isn’t doing so well as a novel. I’ll put it aside for a while before coming back to read it and if I still feel the same way I’ll scrap it. It’s a good story but plot isn’t everything and I’m not telling it the way it should be told. After the first half a dozen chapters it starts to fall to pieces.
Trying to clean up the garden now when it isn’t raining or the winds aren’t howling. The last of the quinces and the peppers have been picked. The orange trees are laden with fruit and lemons coming along nicely, some already ripe and at all stages back to the bud. The mandarins are also ripe. It’s been a wonderful year for fruit. The only tree in the garden that still hasn’t produced anything is the six (or is it seven?) year old nectarine. Maybe it will come into its own next year. We did have a lot of trouble with peach curl but having chopped back and sprayed a couple of years ago seem to have cured it. Nevertheless no flowers and consequently no fruit.

So warm in the garden even a medium weight shirt is too heavy. Considering we’re almost through the first week of December that is quite amazing, not I suppose that it hasn’t happened in previous years but one doesn’t remember it, except I thought if I were to write of our Cretan experiences the title would be “Roses In December”.
Chris is suffering with his back again and walking around like a geriatric which he is far from being – yet!
Douglas’s books on Adobe CS4 (I think I’ve got that right) were finally delivered yesterday so he is immersed in them to such an extent he is virtually incommunicado. Any question or comment is greeted with a grunt or a mumble. Besides which he is still not speaking to me (despite my apology) after the Taurian temper blew yesterday when he pressed the wrong button and a raw nerve caused an Etna like eruption. So I told him to read his stars in Friday’s Mail. We always read the stars even though the weeks go by with little if any noticeable variation and the forecasts are virtually forgotten ten seconds after reading them. With Jonathan Cainer we’re not always too sure what he’s getting at anyway. I think he imagines himself to be astronomer royal to the intelligentsia who, even if they can‘t actually figure out what he’s talking about will pretend they do. Anyway, Friday’s advice for Leo, considering the cataclysmic event of the morning, was spot on so good on you, Mister Cainer. It reads as follows – “Why do some people get on wonderfully well one moment, yet act like sworn enemies the next? Why are relationships complex and difficult to understand? Because as individual beings we are erratic. Inconsistent and idiosyncratic. None of us is normal. So, if you put any two of us together it won’t be long before we reveal our particular quirks and start to annoy one another. It is easy this weekend to intensify an argument. It is much more challenging to deepen trust and create empathy. Give it a go.”
None of us is normal – I like that, Mister Cainer, you never said a truer word.

The winds of Crete have been howling for two days; force six? Force seven? More? Don’t know. I only know the fir trees I see from my window are bending almost double with each gust and there’s a rattling going on on the roof that is quite alarming. Are we to lose some more tiles I wonder? It’s no wonder the old Cretan houses have their roofs held down with heavy stones. At least they are warm winds so must be coming up from the south. Hopefully they won’t bring Gaddaffi’s rain when everything is covered in yellow, almost orange coloured sand.
Yesterday at sparrowfart Douglas drove me to IKA for what hopefully will be the last blood test, in fact a double whammy! The first at eight o’clock after which I had to drink a plastic tumbler full of what could only have been slightly dissolved sugar, so sickeningly sweet I spent the next half hour trying to keep it down. Then after a two hour wait, the second blood test and the results will be known to-day after which we will know whether or not in my old age I have a tendency towards diabetes. Thinking of what Douglas’s dad went through I suppose all this checking up will have been worth it if it nips anything nasty in the bud.
Before correcting it I noticed I spelt tendency as trendency. In the Mail on Fridays they have cod words like Daftodils – stupid Dutch imports, Ginjury – too much of the hard stuff. Very witty, what? So what would trendency be – smartarsing? Americans have, or used to have, their Polack jokes, the English have their Irish jokes (do the Irish have English jokes?) When I was a youngster in South Africa the jokes were levied at the Afrikaner or at the police who were often not all that well educated and reputed to be as thick as two planks. As the police were mostly Afrikaners sometimes the jokes coincided.
Konstable van Niekirk was after making an arrest and cornered what looked like a potential criminal. He looked in his little book and came up with “I’m arresting you for loitering with intent.” ‘Intent to do what?’ the man said. So Konstable van Niekirk, not having an answer to that, went back to his little book and came up with something else. After five or six suggested offences all of which the man denied, Konstable van Niekirk said, “All right. I’m arresting you for arson. You’ve been arsing around far too much now.”
Konstable van Niekirk was on duty at the docks when a man in dire need of a pee hurried up to him and asked for directions to the urinal. Van Niekirk thought for a while and then said, “Has she got one funnel or two?”
All very well but now most of the police are black and John Lewis informs me that in Natal anyway, if not corrupt, they are so shit-scared of going against the witch doctor and his powers it truly bodes ill for law and order.
Some of the Afrikaner jokes are so racist I wouldn’t even dream of writing them down.

I was told once that there are more theatres in Athens than in London (or have I already said this?) Not exactly the houses as in Shaftsbury Avenue or the likes of The Palladium, Prince of Wales, New London, but mostly what in London would be called fringe, or in NY Off-Broadway, Off-Off-Broadway, in other words acting spaces, so when I see in athinorama, the magazine which I suppose is the equivalent of “Time Out” that there are something like 250 events happening in a week: plays, musicals, opera, dance, puppets, children’s theatre, concerts, I can quite believe it. Add to this clubs with cabaret, restaurants of which there are many, some with live music, could Athens be the cultural capital of the world? Not all the events are weekly, some play just two nights a week for example. But add to this the museums and sites of architectural interest and Athens really must be the cultural capital at least of the European world. There are 45 museums and sites and more round and about such as Corinth, Delphi, Epidavros. The rest of Greece, including the islands, doesn’t fall too far behind in the culture stakes which is hardly surprising when one considers hitherto unknown sites being uncovered all the time.
But, despite the number of theatres and the amount of play going, Greek theatre is run in a very strange fashion, that is, production seems to progress in the most haphazard fashion and, if it is felt a play is not ready by its advertised opening night they simply put it off until it is. This seems to occur with some frequency. Stage management is almost unheard of, finance is not always forthcoming (but what’s new there?) and quite often producers it would seem don’t really know their arses from their elbows and this in the land that gave us the great plays of classical Greece, but then a performance that takes place in daylight in an open air theatre and not requiring scenery does not present the problems to be solved in a space so many metres by so many metres with an acting area the size of a matchbox, especially as Greeks never seem to think things out logically, again rather weird considering their past. For example a little open air auditorium has been built in the park here in Vamos and instead of building it so the audience would sit with their backs to the road close by, they have built it totally the wrong way round and have had to put up a screen to try and rectify their mistake. It’s not all like that though, there are magnificent buildings for music, there are good theatre buildings and the new Acropolis museum I’ve mentioned previously is an absolute architectural masterpiece worth visiting for the building alone let alone what is going to be in it.