Corbyn and the stump speech in the modern era

Jeremy Corbyn has adopted a style of  speaking I hadn't heard since I worked for Claude Ryan in Quebec. Back then during a by election campaign in a vast rural constituency, Mr. Ryan  then  leader of the provincial Liberal Party would open his stump speech with the following bit... "This is the 23rd time I have  made this speech".  The number  would increase  each time of  course, but the implication was clear, he was required to make  his message personally to each crowd  as he could not depend on the local media and radio in rural Quebec to publish his every utterance in time to reach the population of Argenteuil county.

2000 listen in Sunderland

There were of course extenuating circumstances. The area the size of  half of England was considered sparsely populated and not worthy of it's own daily media outlet and the radio was all about sound bites. So why does Corbyn, in a country with a modern rolling news station on telly and many national papers that should be interested in at least some of what he has to say, opening his rallies with the words... "This is the 25th rally I have spoken at  since..." followed by the usual  litany we  can  recite by heart. Anti austerity, defence of workers right to collective bargaining, right to organise, nationalisation of the rail and  bringing  buses under  council control, saving the NHS, housing, mental health; mixed with the  local policy issues that crop up in various locations. Surely clear signs that some of us get it but obviously not most people using the traditional media, apparently. 

I can hear you shouting  all sorts of un comradely things about Auntie Beeb and the Murdoch press, but I won't repeat them here as I'm taking the high road. I won't for example accuse BBC news of blatant propaganda and fudging of  numbers and images, that would never be on. Furthermore it would be unwise of me to intimate the intentions of credible news organs like daily politics and the mainstream dailies in their choice of sources  and  front page stories, also likely to get me in trouble. Instead I will simply say the truth.

The selfie

The news media in general and the BBC especially have ignored to their level best on the national supper  hour and  rolling news, the tour. Corbyn and  his team  could be selling out every o2 arena in the land  and  doing the best impression of  Glastonbury complete with mosh pits and muddy fields and it would still not be news. Who cares what  thousands of  supporters in each town think? During the private volunteers meeting in Gateshead council chamber, Corbyn had  at that time done  20 rallies  and  estimated that to the end of the leadership run, he'd have spoken at another forty such rallies in public squares and parks, as venues these days seem to be too expensive ( football stadia and concert arenas) or just  plain too small. So let's do the maths here.  20+40=60.  Yes comrades, that's at least 60 x minimum average of 2000 people per rally plus the extra 8,000 from Liverpool. In other words, 200,000 supporters minimum, will have heard him speak. That's more than the entire membership of the Tory party. Still less than a quarter of the membership of the Labour party a few weeks  ago, when it stood at least 500,000.

1500 Geordies march in support of the leader earlier last month.

This  is the sort of stubborn resistance we are faced with. The sort of clear unvarnished agenda that  takes  months  not weeks or  days to plan against the democratically elected leader of the Labour party.

I was told by a friend of  mine who'd spoken to Jeremy not too long  ago, it  could  have  been at the Miner's Gala even, that it was the rallies  last  year that put the fire in Corbyn's belly. To be precise, We had  been  working hard to set up a meeting in  Newcastle last year, Middlesbrough had been hastily added to the tour and the Town Hall at  mid day was the venue in a place known to be hostile to Corbyn in 2015. When Jeremy was greeted  by a packed hall on short notice in  the middle of Blairite country, he knew he could win. When he showed up inside the Tyneside Opera house after addressing a crowd of  close to 1300 people outside, he was greeted by a heaving audience full to the rafters who'd patiently waited for him, waited  for his message, for his signal that our Labour Party would never again be the same; he was blown away.

Speaking to the packed house  at the Tyne Opera House 2015

Newcastle 2015 addressing the first  big crowd after that London meeting

Today as  he speaks, apparently at  no fewer than two  maybe three rallies, we the true progressive wing of Labour are the wind  beneath his wings. Corbyn is so happy now he'd  rather dance than worry about the big bad traditional press. Some have likened us to :

Core Labour workers who will be on the doorstep and create policy.

Trots - Nazis - Moonies - a fan club - rabble -Thugs -Bullies

We are none of those things, we are people who have a clear vision and programme that will be carried out by one man and his team of present and future MPs, councillors and party officers. We are Momentum, We are the fresh blood that this party and  country needed for decades. I was not aware until a few few days ago,  mostly due I will admit to the torrent of negative stories, that the Labour party of the UK is the biggest socialist party in Europe and  growing bigger every week. If that is failure we are spectacularly going down the pan. It's  been repeated elsewhere, but as John McDonnell said  during  his visit to Newcastle, it's not Corbyn the establishment fears, it's us, the 99% who are refusing to fall back into quiet submission. The agenda is ours to write and soon the the narrative even in the mainstream will be required to give under the sheer weight of evidence out there.

Ian Mearns " This MPs not terrified, cos Corbyn's on fire!"

What can we do to make this come to pass faster? Be the media. Spread the links in social media, pressure the local broadcasters and press to recognise the mass movement Jeremy Corbyn merely is the head of.  Join your local Labour Party and Momentum groups. Participate in any way you can  no matter how limited. Come the general election we'll need every foot soldier, policy wonk, fundraiser, phone banker, door knocker, organiser and CANDIDATE we  can lay hands on. This is a movement that will be written about for decades and studied for much longer. I would love if that movement was to culminate in the election of  the first of a string of Governments Bevan would be  proud to vote for.

 The fact that this movement is so strong and policy based, is testament that we are  not Jeremy so much as He is US. The social movement that he represents is the acorn planted by Occupy in 2011 when people decided the status quo no longer good enough. The Corbyn wave is Occupy all grown up and now entering active practical politics through the route of Peoples Assembly, Momentum, trade unions and the Greens. The energy and  push  for change from within and  without the Labour Party are there and not going away. I'm fairly sure Corbyn will win resoundingly and push on...

Corbyn busts a move in Sunderland

Listening in Gateshead

However, before we can talk future elections we need to insure that our leader remains leader despite the dirtiest campaign I have had the displeasure of witnessing and  enduring  in my political life. Go to phone banks to get the vote out, go to rallies to support the leader, be active in local campaign NOW, become the beating heart of your bit of the Labour Party. If enough of us do this to the end  and beyond, we will like the ants in the song... knock over the rubber tree plants.  Sounds revolutionary  doesn't it? That's because it is  brothers and  sisters, it is the very revolution some of us have waited all our  lives for and  others are lucky to be there at the right place and time. WE will suffer every sling and arrow of outrageous fortune, including the most recent Victoria Derbyshire omnishambles of a failed stitch up,  to get to the end of this and there waving in the breeze, a bit tattered, a bit torn  but  intact, will be our flag and the man who holds that banner high in victory. 

I'll stop now  before we have to start singing about our martyred dead ... :-)

West End's Dine@theBistro unveils new look

Yesterday I attended a fund raiser in Newcastle’s West End
that doubled as the launch for  Dine@the Beacon's
new menu. Located in the old fire station on the Westgate road the
Bistro has evolved from a place that just did basic coffee and not much else,
to a full service family friendly restaurant. Amer Mirza and Noor Couture have
done an amazing job of turning the space into one of the West End’s newest fun
places to eat.

A cracking full room from start to finish was treated to Newcastle’s
best and probably only, all day Halal full English breakfast.  The bacon is replaced by wonderful turkey rashers and if you go for the large plate the price includes a generous
coffee.  Nothing on the menu costs more than £5.95 so feeding your family won’t bust your budget.  All the food is prepared from fresh ingredients and made on site; as the breakfast implies, it’s Halal and they don’t serve beef but do make a wide variety of dishes from chicken and lamb including an amazing pie and mash. I had the wonderful home made lasagne, which like the Halal full English breakfast flew out the kitchen and has now passed into legend among those who had the
pleasure of tasting it.

The menu also includes salads,  panini and wraps made from fresh seasonal ingredients,  as well as a shepherd's pie, reasonably priced burger platers of lamb or chicken served with chips or vegetables . Amer who is the brains behind the catering team of Thomson and Naffa, produce dishes you would not normally have time to cook at home. The soups of the day, sweet potato and coconut today, are as varied as the ingredients available on the day, and the only thing I can say is TRY THEM.

 Wherever you live in Newcastle, if you are in the West End with your family, don’t stress, it’s your  kitchen away from home and it’s Halal. Come along with the kids after school for tea, and let them choose from the mini diners menu.

Amer caters a fine dining vegetarian experience suitable for all events.

So don’t forget to make Dine@the Beacon part of your daily
routine.  Home of the best all day Halal
English breakfast in town,  open to dine in or take away….

Weekdays 8 am to 6pm

Saturday 11 am to 10 PM

Sunday 11 am to 6 pm
Call for catering options 0191 242 5425

Lent and the modern Catholic

What is Sin?

Growing up as a Catholic boy I was told a lot of things about the period leading up to Easter and why it was the holiest time of the Christian calendar. I'm sure most of it at the time even stuck, but just to be sure I checked the apparent arbiter of simple unvarnished truth that is wikipedia 

"The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer through prayer, penance, repentance of sins, almsgiving, atonement and self-denial. Its institutional purpose is heightened in the annual commemoration of Holy Week, marking the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus, which recalls the tradition and events of the New Testament beginning on Friday of Sorrows, further climaxing on Jesus' crucifixion on Good Friday, which ultimately culminates in the joyful celebration on Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ."

 Yeah, that's about right. What has of course percolated through to the less knowledgeable or devout layer of people is that we have to give something up for 40 days, something we like, we need to suffer. That's all fine and good on the surface, but doesn't actually tell us why. Why do we need to give up a luxury? What's the point? How does my giving up chocolate or expensive entertainments help me get ready for Easter?

Self denial in conjunction with fasting, and self examination allows us the intellectual space to review ourselves and our life and habits. It allows us to see what it is we can do to be better persons in the long run. Jews and Muslims have not unsimilar traditions with precisely the same goals. Lets examine the principal actions asked of every Christian during this period.

Penance: Or the confession of sin, is the act of  realization that maybe some of our actions have been bad, harmful or selfish. Jesus and pretty much every other prophet who ever came along has told us not to be shmucks, putzes and self centred egomaniacs to the detriment of everybody else and everything around us. We are individual parts of a whole and our harmonious participation is predicated on the notion that we accept that we are not always the centre of the universe. To do this, we need  a time to consider the year that was, the actions we did, good bad or indifferent. If the giving up of ostentatious displays and a few luxuries brings us back to the level of the humblest among us, then we are all the more open to the exercise of self examination. Here is a short  and hardly axhaustive list of  simple questions to ask yourself.

1- Have I been a help or a hindrance to those around me?
2- Have I made the most of my opportunities, especially those that came out of the blue and those that came after much struggle? 
3- How aware am I of the impact of my actions on those closest to me and to my general surroundings?
4- Have I maximized my talents, education and time, life has thus far offered me?
5- Have I made myself, my talents and resources available to those who needed them.

Repentance: Having had a good long look at one's self, we have established a number of things we may have been guilty of. And by guilty I don't necessarily mean things like lying and cheating, tho that does count, I mean the subtler sins of waste, egocentrism, self indulgent pity and other assorted reasons why you can't do what you know is good for you and for others. This step is particularly important as you're going to do that thing you failed utterly to do at New Year's.... resolve to avoid said bad behaviour and find a different and better path to follow. AND MEAN IT.  By the way, did you make a list of people you wronged? Yup, that's the next step,

Atonement: In plain English it means saying you're sorry, you won't do it again and you need to find a way to the best of your ability to tell people this. If this sounds like something out of AA, you're not wrong. And saying you're sorry sometimes isn't enough, you need to do an act of contrition or reparation. A recent example of this is Csanad Szegedi a former right wing nationalist Hungarian politician  who upon discovering he was Jewish, went into a deep period of  reflection and is now still sitting  but as an independent  that stands for human rights and social equality. He will spend the rest of his life atoning for his previous life, but for him that is the price he has to pay for having been such a terrible person before.

Szegedi

Now here is the tricky bit for some. Forgiveness:  Forgiveness for sins against ourselves and dealing with those who are too bitter and angry at us for the sins we committed against them. You cannot allow those who won't forgive you to be the reason you don't follow through, sometimes what you did to them was just too damaging, you will make new friends and  a new life, even if you have to bear the consequences of some of your actions for the rest of your life. And if somebody has wronged you and made the effort to apologize and really mean it; you have a responsibility to try, to dig down in yourself and forgive them, never forget, but forgive and wipe the slate clean. As I said, it's not easy, if it were, everybody would be doing it.

Alms giving and good deeds: Mitzvah the Jews call it. The art of sharing yourself, your talent and your wealth with those who need it most for nothing but the knowledge that you made their life better. A true mitzvah does not ask for a receipt or testimonial dinner. All good deeds  be they large or small, eventually as the saying goes, get repaid ten fold. Some of us will get a box of chocolates or the occasional tray of biscuits, others will get a medal or knighthood in the fullness of time, but most of us will be rewarded at most by a smile and a polite thank you, sometimes not even that. And yet, that is not a reason to not do it. Each example of such a good deed that makes you a  mensch ( really good person) without leading you necessarily to sainthood either, makes you a living embodiment of what every prophet and holy man and woman ever asked of humanity.....Don't be A SHMUCK. At the very least, if somebody has to choose how to be and they have you and some putz as an example, they will have the wisdom to be you, because you were nice to them, because somebody was nice to you.

What exactly is defined as a good deed then you ask? It could be the simple act of charity, the act of taking your time and spending it with somebody who is lonely, perhaps seeing a friend who is themselves encumbered with problems not of their own making and just not dealing with them  due to lack of resources or strength and saying , " Today I'll be here to help you, and if can, I'll do it next week too." Charity can sometimes be a balm on the conscience of the comfortable and the well off  that excuses them from thinking about the connections of actions and results. Perhaps if you give to a charity, ask yourself why the people or things are in such dire need. What can you do to reverse the situation permanently. In so doing you may find that the simple act of giving money or spare food becomes just the opening gambit. Here is a site that provides a wonderful way to Do Lent Generously.

Volunteering  is part of charity, it is the self sacrifice of your leisure time away from x factor and other such things designed to numb you from the reality around you. The volunteer sector is more and more pressurized to provide services that governments have abdicated, add this on top of the usual sports, scouts, guides, gardening, OAP activities etc... that depend on an ever shrinking pool of people, and you can see how even a few hours you previously spent playing World of Warcraft or voting in bread and circuses talent shows on telly can alleviate a bit of the pressure. I would like to mention and praise here  a group of particularly devoted Star Trek fans of the NE of England who take any opportunity to make a noise in Klingon or even Dalek if it means a good local charity gets a bit of help. Quark's Tyne bar, always ready to serve the Klingon Empire, The Federation and any cause that doesn't mind people eating Rokeg Blood Pie or accusing them of being a P'Tok.

While Lent is all of the things you've just read, it is first and foremost a time of reflection about yourself and your place in the world. How you can best contribute to and share it's bounty with others. Being a better person is the reason why you give up chocolate for 40 days. It's about giving your soul and your body a chance to heal and maybe change for the better. There is no perfect way of doing this, but if you follow even a part of the observance, even if it's just talking to your G-d, reading from the texts that you claim to inspire your more altruistic self, or just reaching out to those around you and trying to understand them and the person you could be if you just tried, you have made a road map for yourself to follow until next year, when it starts all over again.

Muslims and Jews reading this will find much familiar to them and I would hope it goes a long way in letting them know that where it matters most, we are all praying to the same G-d. For my humanist and atheist friends,  I hope you take from this an understanding of what it truly means to us to be what we are and to respect us for that. This period of reflection we travel is something every person can do regardless of faith, regardless if they even believe in a higher power. Make the effort in your own way and you'll be the better for it, in fact we all will.

I wandered hungry like a cloud, the smell of garlic smoothly lied

Maybe the location should of been a warning  and maybe the name should of leapt out at me in large glaring warning klaxons, even it's inviting Greek music on the tanoy distracted me from the final nail in the coffin.... "Authentic Greek Cuisine" but I got taken in long enough to order food in the Bigg Market's Greek Taverna... optimistically called Simply Greek Tavern  ( 2-4 Bigg Market). In fact for an eatery that serves authentic Greek cuisine, there wasn't a lot of Greeks in the place or Greek on the menu, we had to translate backwards to know what we were ordering.

In my defence, by the time I knew I had made an error it was too late to get away. The lovely slavic waitress and the genuinely Greek manager had both been around  a few times to see if we were "aright" and hoped it was lovely. In typical English deference we nodded politely first few times then I had to say something about the alleged Greek Salad ( more on that later). Our first warning sign  should of been  when I asked our waitress if the tzadziki was proper garlicky or not. She said rather honestly that it depended on the day. I know , I know, but we were already sat down and hoping to be fed in short order. As it turns out the tzadziki was a fine medium strength, but not nearly as strong as I like it.

What really upset me was the downward slide of the experience from the moment we entered the place. It started well enough, the smell of garlic in the air, the sound of current top 40 Greek tunes wafting through the air, sufficiently Greek decor of the 70's kind abounded. Surely these were signs that our hosts had spent more money on the food than the dinning room. Our first course arrived and proceeded to underwhelm us. Consisting of  a plate of Spanakopita, or as the menu helpfully told us...spinach pie, with a Greek salad and side order of Tzadziki and bread , the items in question were ok  to passable to what the hell is this.  Beginning with the best bits, the tzadziki was properly thick, well blended with garlic, olive oil  salt and dill, though mint does just as well. It could have been stronger  and there should have been on offer a medium or a strong, but as I said, acceptable to someone who has had the stuff prepared by "genuine Greeks".  As for the Spanakopita, it was ok, a bit mild, it was missing a few signature touches  but not so much that a hungry person could not forgive the leaving out of larger doses of Feta or Ricotta cheese. The seasoning was passable and the finished product  as served while a bit thin was well baked and ticked enough of the boxes to make it an acceptable though hardly awe inspiring starter.

Where the meal fell apart was the main. We were told it was Geordie portions and so only ordered the one of the Souvlaki chicken platter and split it. Did we want rice or chips with that? Again with the bloody chips! Of course we wanted the rice, and it came with a Greek salad. Let's first tell you what each component is supposed to look like  and  prepared properly.

The meat on sticks kebab part on offer (lamb is the real stuff but you know) is supposed to have chicken  bits marinated for at least a few hours if not overnight in a combination of garlic, yoghurt, olive oil, oregano or some other herb, as well a few other not so secret ingredients. This is then grilled and served all lovingly and gloriously smothered in tzadziki that waits on the side for dipping in.  What we got was something I would get in a Polish kitchen if my Gran had roasted a chicken in the oven after having hacked it to bits and skewered it. Tender, juicy and tasting of nothing but chicken fat. If that was Greek I'm Prince Phillip.

Moving along to the salad also purporting itself to be Greek, we firmly expected a healthy portion of onions, tomato, feta cheese, olives, more herbs and spices and olive oil etc.... What we got could only be described as a miserly tiny, shallow bowl of unmixed veg that might one day when it grew up be a French salad of some sort with a totally un required single hot pepper.

Lastly, the rice we were promised should have been a heaping spread of flavoured rice cooked in chicken broth and drizzled with the juices of the above mentioned Souvlaki mixed further with a few bits of chopped savory through it. Yum, I couldn't wait.... I'm still waiting, what sat there instead in a small pile dumped from a bowl shape off Masterchef, was a small perfectly cooked cup of  white steamed rice any Chinese chef would be proud of. Besides being not nearly enough, this was in  no way Greek, not even vaguely Mediterranean and it was bland.

If you are like some people, you want to dip your roast Polish Chicken in Tzadziki sauce, it was there but hardly enough to even stain two skewers worth.

Can you tell what I think happens here? Sure you do, in fact you might have guessed by now. The Spanakopita is made somewhere else and heated up, can't screw that up. The sauce is made on the spot sometimes and there is no quality control, seems we got lucky on the day.  Lastly the chicken takes 20 minutes to make we were told, I expect that's 10 to 15 minutes to marinate in what ever they think they can fool us with then another 10  minutes in the oven. What no frying first to seal in the flavours????

This alleged genuine Greek Taverna is nothing but a place where locals with no tastebuds come to brave Continental food. If you've ever eaten anywhere in Greece, in a Greek home or lived in a Greek area in any major urban centre, you would, like the lone other poor bastard in the place, sat with his ill informed mates who swore blind this was the best in town, have through the meal wondered how it could have gone so terribly wrong. He was the lucky one as he seemed to not have to pay for his erm ... meal. We being honest souls accepted that some sort of food had been brought to us, it was cooked sufficiently to not harm us and if we pretended it wasn't Greek, it might be something my wife's Jewish Grandmother in Brooklyn might have cooked for the high holydays. On these grounds and these grounds alone, I consented to pay the grossly overpriced addition of £26.70.

I told the front of house man that his ancestors were weeping and that was never in a million years Greek, or even mock Mediterranean. His body language was that of a man rumbled for selling his soul to the "you want chips with that" Gods. I suspect he doesn't eat off the menu or take his Mother there, that alone would kill her and she'd never speak to him again. I'd be embarrassed too, but if you are prepared to throw out basic standards to make a bit of money, it's a sort of business model I suppose.

If you want authentic Greek cuisine... go to fecking Greece, or London or Paris. Save your money and reputation. I may one day find real Greek food in Newcastle, but not today. Stay away from this so called Bouzouki palace, life is too short and money too valuable to throw away on confused soulless bistros that put bechamel sauce in moussaka, Oh G-d I think I'm going to be ill.

Come to an art exhibit opening

image by M Padowicz

Sanctuary Artspace at St Edmund's chapel in Gateshead and The Newcastle Gateshead art collective present
A retrospective of graffiti and street art

M. Padowicz

St. Edmunds Chapel, High Street, Gateshead , NE8 1EP (Across from the new Tesco)

Opening night vernissage will be 2nd of September from 6:00 pm to 8:30 pm, entertainment will include live music, the sartorial and comedic splendour of at least one BBC radio funny man in the persona of the one the only .... Steve Drayton, one fire eater who might be joined on the day by sword swallowers and jugglers. Drinks courtesy of a local brewery and food lovingly made by a trained tandoori chef and other niblies.

2nd-26th Sept, opening hours Mon-Thurs 12-4.. The exhibit features photos of modern street art and murals along with a multi media presentation of contextual images. Graffiti and street art has morphed into acceptable murals and open expression of a media based culture that sometimes seems to forget about struggle and politics in favour of novel or not so novel ways to reflect back what people have experienced and grown to love. It is a mixture of commercialism, civic art and independent efforts that blur the lines between rebellion and filling empty spaces with something thought provoking.

All art on display for sale, orders taken from opening night and throughout the duration of the exhibit. Framing and size of delivered image will determine final price.

Featured artists

Mietek Padowicz: From the North East, of Polish origin, Mietek's work focuses on the visible and less visible traces of Newcastle/Gateshead street art in all it's various incarnations.

Richard Clatworthy : Most recently of India and London, brings a taste of the subcontinent and abandoned sites most of us would not get into.

 

Mozeltov It's a blog

When we first mooted the idea of changing cities I thought I would continue my usual habits of watching enough telly to turn me into a walking talking Gruniad type analyst that even has time  to switch on ITV2 to mock Jeremy Kyle once a month. As it happened, since we walked into our new house in Byker on day 4 of being in town, the amount of television I watch has plummeted to levels hitherto only seen in the salons of the people who "don't usually watch telly" but will on occasion fire up the goggle box for a bit of BBC4. The truth is a little closer to watching a lot of Pointless, Look North and endless repeats of Piranha 3d and such equally elevated films in between unpacking boxes and tastefully dropping things in rooms on walls and out of view till it looked like home. As the dust settled and house became our lived in castle we'd never been away from , the realization dawned that the extra time freed up after several weeks and months of form filling, gardening and getting stuck into was now PUB, walking into town to see people, shopping at Malgosia's near the Grainger Market, meeting more people, attending Steve Drayton's record player, PUB saying hello face to face to people we'd only ever talked to on facebook or Skype at the PUB, shlepping into Gateshead to see what all the fuss was about. Finding out that after all the effort of making house a home, we spent way more time out the house than in, we've even added after some searching a perfectly nice Catholic parish in Heaton and the Lit and Phil for that home away from home when all else fails or we need to ask an odd question from some truly odd ( in a good way) people who it seems live at the Lit and Phil in hopes of telling you where the last remaining Edward the 8th post box in the NE is.

You can see how frankly getting any real desire to sit down long enough to write more than a few

words has been like pulling teeth. This blog was, when away from Newcastle, a means to keep myself busy and not thinking of where I was and that if I watched enough telly I might even forget  for a few minutes that I lived in a desolate culture-less suburb of a hell hole thousands of miles away from the closest signs of life. Oh don't get me wrong, Montreal as a city was a great place if you got close enough to the centre of town and the right people, only thing was that  even the right people were moving to Toronto, London and New York as the get up and go had got up and left Montreal behind. It's hard to build a business and a family in a city you're not welcome in. It's hard to keep you're head up if you're spending most of your time dodging fresh shit missiles from the Parti Quebecois and the followers who had learned nothing from the evil that grew out of extreme nationalism in Europe just before WW2. While some of my mates stayed to continue the fight, I took my wife and my dreams to greener pastures where I would be made welcome and my origins would be less important than my contributions. Wow that was dark! But guess what, if I told you the whole truth you wouldn't believe me.

Newcastle had always been the place we wanted to come to as  it was the only location people interested in the cartoon  the wife and I are working on, ever came from. Even now this reasoning has not been a bad call. Since we got here our percentage complete bar has gone from twitching on 40% for years to surging to the hard bits at 75% and 85%. We now have recording studios, cast members and researched scripts, we now have serious contacts for funding and fund-raising. Newcastle is the place to be if you have even the slightest idea of doing something artistic, you want to sing? come here, you want to put on a play? HERE. Hell, even if you stink as a musician and think you can pretend to be a Chicago blues worbler, you can get away with it for a bit. Most importantly, Newcastle and the NE in general is a region where  you might have racism and intolerance, but unlike other places, if you utter such opinions out loud within hearing distance of most people, they will show the way out of town and tell you there's no room for that sort of thing here.  Honestly, I couldn't ask for much better.

So what about the people who said it's a backwater and a shithole? Is Newcastle a shithole? I suppose some bits of it may appear on the surface to be exactly that, and there may in fact be people who've given up on life and hope. It's not all roses and happiness up here. I saw the doctor and he told me I was still a Newcastle fan and short of a miracle it would never get any better on the pitch or in the board room. If I wanted a job, I had choices, some not bad even, but if I really wanted a lot of lolly, I'd have to make my own job. So far we got three and we can see the light at end of the tunnel. We have a government that wants to build businesses and create jobs locally, resources to draw on if we only choose to and more holes in the market to fill if one has eyes to see. While it hasn't been easy by any stretch, we've had help every step of the way, which is a lot more than we can say about years of living in Montreal.

Oh and I know that parts of the city have only in the last 6 months to a year been beautified or

improved from it's previous grim appearance and state, but if you had to ask me again if even under economic duress and occasional bad weather  I still wanted to live here over say London or Toronto or New York, I'd still say yes yes yes a thousand times yes.  If you walk in any direction for 15 minutes there is something interesting to see, hear or eat, most of it inexpensive and sometimes even free.It's a jewel in a crown of glory that is the NE. So much to do, the food is not expensive, and if you stay at home every night it's only because you are tired of life. There is even tonight comedy for £3 a head , quality beer 2 minutes on foot from the house, fab Lebanese 7 minutes from the house and if you feel like walking 10 minutes, an entire central city core full of eateries, clubs and theatres to get distracted in. Last week I went to a Fringe preview show, I'm on exhibit at the Biscuit Factory, getting to share a show in September with a mate at the  Sanctuary Art space in Gateshead look it up, and  there is a list of restaurants and food producers who's only desire is to feed me so I can say something nice about them.

Did I mention I'm in the Biscuit Factory Cafe? Hell yes, and I for the first time in ten years I picked

up my camera because I'm inspired again, my inner eye is excited by what it sees, it's frustrated by the fact that technology hasn't yet caught up with my own vision, but I keep hacking at it  like Jeff Vader  with his wet cafeteria tray. If you stand for a few minutes anywhere in this town and listen you can hear the past, you feel the ghosts of workers streaming out onto the cobbles off the road out the Hoults Yard, I walked out St-James's park with thousands after we won 1-0 and was part of a ritual that had been going on for a hundred years. There is nothing like a single mass of humanity flowing out as one and occupying every square inch of street for blocks around, happy in the joy that our lads had got the job done. I was here when Margaret Thatcher died... I went to a party that night and I wasn't a misfit or a freak for my feelings, it was perfectly normal. I marched against Fascism when the EDL came to town and knew I was on the side that had the population's support, it was in fact that day that I knew I'd made the right choice. On that day all parties in council, all media, all government institutions stood as one with the people to say Racism off our streets.  I was home, I was never ever going to want to leave .

This is not to say that there aren't a few things we can teach Newcastle about! Where to start? Deli food, real deli food, doesn't exist here. We need to open our own place or teach somebody the dark arts of smoked meat, pastrami and how a Reuben is made. Italian is good if you look around  but you need to find a place  where the cook isn't killing everything with hot sauce. I like chilli as much as the next guy  but not in fecking quiche or a nice marinara sauce. Still looking for good Viennese pastry and the French variety but not nearly as dire or impossible as one would think, lots of places springing up like mushrooms in the rain. Most annoying thing food wise here  has to be the massive portions of chips with everything, I suppose asking for a salad or some other less chippy thing would be easy to do but when I have, it only confused the waitresses. Salad, a green and other coloured bowl of stuff that isn't deep fried, I know it exists here, but not everywhere. Ah that asking and speaking up thing is a hard one too. Went to a public house that will remain un named, no let's name it... The Cumberland Arms,  and ordered a pint of the black stuff... it was weak, in fact  it had gone off, but rather than complain, I drank the swill and left for my local , The Free Trade, and complained to Mick the landlord who sympathised with me but wondered why I  hadn't bothered mentioning my deep disappointment to them up the road instead of him, after which he declared that I had in fact not taken all that long to fit in. I wasn't going to argue the point :). Which is not to say my wife and I hadn't retained a bit of Big City WTF you staring at attitude. A while ago a fat charver with enough ink on to be a book, driving a big black chelsea tank tried to run us over on an otherwise empty street( and yes we looked both ways before we crossed) . Dressed like polite latte drinking penniless aristocrats , he never imagined  his foul mouth, massive stomach and black manky t-shirt wasn't going to scare us. My wife ( a posh bird in a fur coat) who was ill at the time, rose up to her full 7 foot tall frame, put on her best Brooklyn FU face and told him to get some specs himself before we called the police. Mr tough guy got back in his tank while his mate laughed at him. Since that incident  we've made the decision that however much we're tempted, we should never try to fit in too much, we're the exotic ones now!

So what's on the cards now for me and the blog? As telly is right out I have now enough places to eat at, culture to absorb, purveyors of cheese, sausage and baked goods as well as festivals and music venues to review, some of them even know know I'm coming, others are blissfully unaware. Either way I promise to do a fair and friendly review if it is warranted. I love this place too much to not be nice to people who are trying to make a go of a proper business. If there's anything wrong, I'll tell you first. That's a refreshing change  isn't it? I want to highlight the good work being done across the board be it food, music or yet another festival or gallery. Newcastle Gateshead and the greater region deserve a good shot in the arm and given the fact the Central government down London way hasn't seen fit to say owt about nowt to anybody about the  desolate North East, I will do in my own way what I can to big up the place I call home. Armed with twitter and a some canny subscriptions I am on my way to spamming myself into never being at home long enough to do more than sleep.

If you have a show, exhibit, preview new eatery etc...... you want to get publicized and you have faith I won't bite you just to be nasty, please get in touch, I yearn to try your food, hear your jokes and see your band play.

Next time eating Polish in Newcastle