Bear
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Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts

Monday, 13 June 2011

Bristol: JoCo

Bristol, you are so good to me.

The first time I ever went to Bristol, I met a bunch of awesome beatboxers, and I somehow manage to go back to Cardiff (yay!) instead of Plymouth (boo) where I actually lived.
The second time, more epic beatboxing, and a hug from Hobbit (who BY THE WAY is @hobbitbeats on twitter),
The third time, I met Mr. Jonti Picking aka Weebl, and nerded all over the place for a full weekend, not to mention taking some awesome photos that I'll show you as soon as my friend uploads them (meaningful looks at Dave),

And last Thursday I finally got to see Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm performing.

Jonathan Coulton and me
Ici, la photobomb.

I'll say it again, Bristol, you are SO good to me.

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

No spoilers: LOST

There will be reviews of the finale springing up all over the internet in the coming days. They will range from "It was AWFUL" to "it was AWESOME," but that's not what I want to cover here. I want to talk about the part it's played in my life.

One of the main reasons I'm sorry to see Lost go is that it has served as a very effective, if transparent, excuse for hanging out with people I like for many years now. My family got me into it, having decided after the first three episodes that they liked it. I'm sure that, for them, the novelty wore off several seasons ago; and perhaps I'd have lost interest too, if it weren't for Stephen.

Stephen Wills is my honorary big brother. I've known him for my whole life, and craved his approval for about as long; in fact I'd say he was pretty instrumental in inspiring my lifelong love of geeks. I knew him when he was a blond-haired little boy playing with marbles, when he discovered Sonic the Hedgehog, when he was learning to drum and getting girlfriends... I'm a couple of years younger than him, so there was quite a while when we didn't really talk, but then we found out we had Lost in common. For a couple of seasons, my brother and sister and I would go to his flat to watch it with him. Then when he moved back to Newport, and I started doing my gap year work there, I'd watch it alone with him (and believe me, if I'd known how to hit on guys when I was 19, I would have done).

I grew up and moved away, although possibly not in that order; first to Plymouth, where I was alone, and then to Cardiff. In Cardiff I met Dan X. I picked up more or less where I'd left off with Stephen; going round to see him on a weekly basis and watching the latest episode. That's continued, sometimes with more people and sometimes not, right up until tonight. It's one of the things that helped me get to know a few people in Cardiff, so I guess it's one of the reasons this feels like home now.

This obsession has fuelled many discussions with my friends, ranging from vapid soap-opera style drama conversations through to philosophy and metaphysics. I'm helping to indoctrinate my friend Ben into the world of Lost, through which he's getting to know Dan as well. It's good to know that it's still doing that.

So I suppose it's time I found something new to obsess over. Any suggestions?


Saturday, 2 May 2009

Nostalgia: the Bandstand

Well, I've been wanting to write this post for ages, but I really wanted to take my time with it. This post is about something very precious and important to me.

The church I went to growing up was boring. Dull, dull, dull. Don't get me wrong: I love it very much, and it will always feel like my home, but it was just impossible to get excited about singing those dirges from the 19th century. It was geared towards the older people, which made sense as there were loads of them, but for the kids... well, it failed to thrill us.

Which was why the Bandstand was so special.

That's what it was called, the Bandstand. It felt like a separate world. It happened in the summer, late on a Sunday night, and it was like nothing else I've ever experienced...

(I'm speaking, of course, with the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia perched on my nose. That's often how it goes with things that end before you grow up. I'm almost glad it did; doubtless it would never have been the same if I'd gone there as a teenager, sulking and scowling my way through the hymns...)

This is how it would happen: our mother, not wanting us to get tired while we were there, would insist that we take a nap beforehand. Let me tell you, never in my life was it harder to sleep than on a beautiful summer day before the Bandstand. Mum would close the heavy yellowy-gold curtains of our bedroom, and there in the yellow-gold light, we'd try (and often fail) to sleep.

Then we'd go to a little park in a little town on a little island. The birds in the aviary would chirp and sing as we passed, walking towards the river. Bright lights would illuminate the stepping stones, the beautiful plants, and the magical, elusive little fish that flitted through the water.

Most of my siblings fell in that river at one point! when it was my turn, it was a consequence of a selfless act... one of about three I committed before the age of 12. Maybe that's why I remember it. My brother was sailing a little leaf-boat past the stepping stones, reaching out to catch it as it floated past, until (inevitably) he let it go beyond the reach of his little boy arms. So, me being on Big Sister duty, I stretched to catch it... and fell in. The lights made everything so strange and beautiful, and I swear that in that half a second I saw the bright orange fishes swimming around me.

Stepping stones

We weren't allowed to stay on the stepping stones, or to climb the trees, or to play in the park for long, though. Because over by the bandstand structure itself, in front of a little raised and covered platform near the trees, a tiny congregation would gather in the fading light as the night grew colder, singing from a little booklet of hymns. A friendly man with a goatee played the keyboard from the platform, playing the songs that we rarely sang outside of this one special occasion. I often wondered how the people who were so stiff and formal in a building on Sunday mornings, could be so at peace in the breathtaking wonder of nature?

Bandstand

Three or four minutes away from those harmonies that rose above the enthusiastic midges, was a playpark - a magical place for us kids. We'd go there every time, pretend the roundabout was taking us to places that only existed in our imaginations. And the swings! When you got them high enough, right at the top of the arc, you could see over the hedge to the edge of the world, where the sun set over neverending ocean, and nothing else. Just sea and sky. For those brief seconds, I could rise above all the world and be so completely free.

Even if there was never a God, that would be enough.

I know these songs will mean nothing to you, but to me, they mean so much. If you want to hear them, and you've got Spotify - I've only managed to remember / track down these three - click this link:
http://open.spotify.com/user/thiefree/playlist/4Yb0ZVGtOQGZNvwaHM4Cmq

This is a really long shot, but there was one song I remember the most. It was the one people would always be so eager to sing, another song that was unique to that time and that place - so much so that it's not online. Not anywhere. I've written what I remember of the lyrics below... if you can tell me anything about it, I'd be so grateful!

It's a new life, oh how He changed me
A new life, He rearranged me,
A new life, richer and fuller,
It's a wonderful, wonderful life!

Gone is the old life and gone are its chains,
Gone are the wrinkles and gone are the stains,
Gone is the darkness and gone is the night,
I have found Jesus, the truth and the life...

I went back once, years ago, and took these pictures. So although it wasn't the same - how could it be? - I at least have these reminders.

Tulips

Monday, 22 September 2008

End on a high note

Let's play a fun game! What's the worst possible thing that could happen to Anna? That's right: this all over again. Last year I spent Fresher's week, when I should have been getting to know people, curled up in bed, miserable and completely unable to eat / drink / talk for the best part of a week. This year, it's time to get rolling with the uni thing, and my throat decides to pull it's old inflammation trick again.

This time, however, I am actually registered with a doctor! Silver lining, people, silver lining. Until I can get an appointment, however, it's extreme hunger for me. Hoo-bloody-rah.

I spent a fair portion of today watching youtube videos of Sesame Street, getting all nostalgic, and deciding it would be awesome to design muppets for a living. It would, wouldn't it? What a job.

(removed videos deleted)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ptbp0pmcg3U

That kid has got KILLER comedic timing!! And she's adorable, so little Joey is my interesting thing of the day. Hooray! See why you should watch Sesame Street when you feel low?

/EDIT: videos removed? Dagnabbit! Try these:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOKcG-B3VkA


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrwn_v7WkfA


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNLBke_jvYg

Sunday, 4 November 2007

Johnny the rugby-tackling alzheimer's patient

Right, I've decided to be a bit more frequent with my blog updates. I don't feel that I've got that much to say, but as we all know it's the quantity and not the quality that counts.

I have spent most of my life with tragically low self-esteem. I was, socially, a wasteland throughout my childhood - hopeless with other kids, introverted, intelligent, and convinced that I was ugly. I am by no means unique in this respect. A lot of people start out that way.

The past few years have consisted of me discovering that I'm more than that. I learned how to win people over with the bare minimum of effort (hint: be interested in them!), I put the books down and started talking to people, and I found out that I'm not Quasimodo's ugly step-sister.

I'm missing my gap year like crazy. The combination of responsibility and freedom was perfect for me; the feeling of doing something practically to help, talking to people about their problems, leading discussion groups, it was just right to push me to the next stage. I grew in confidence over that year, no doubt about it.

And now, to cap it all off, I'm loved in a way I never expected and sure as hell never deserved.

I am having quite a wobbly start at university. I'm being shy and introverted, and because of the nature of my course I'm doing a lot of reading, and I'm scared to get into the church side of things and not really sure how to go about it. But I'm not going to lose sight of who I am now; change in character is a one-way process from my experience and I'm glad of that because I really, genuinely liked who I was in my gap year. I hope and pray to have the guts to be that person here in Plymouth.

Interesting thing of the day: Plug your webcam in!