The Beestonian issue 26

Maybe it’s something in the water. Maybe it’s some convergence of ley lines. Maybe it’s just ‘cos we’re dead skill in NG9. Whatever the reason, we’re bursting with creative talent.

After years of writing about Beeston, it still feels the surface has only been scratched when it comes to reporting the local brilliance. Painters, film-makers, writers, bakers, musicians... the town buzzes.

This, therefore, gives hope to the future of the town. While large retail drifts away, what fills the gap? That question is subject to debate: and in conjunction with the Civic Society, Beeston Continuum will be holding another public meeting at John Clifford School on 9 May – come along from 7pm to hear some ideas and share your own. Have we got what it takes to not just have a ‘cultural quarter’ in Beeston, but set ourselves up as a unique, vibrant cultural town? A destination town, stuffed to bursting with crafty magic?

Marysia Zipser certainly thinks so. She’s running a whole heap of projects under the umbrella of ‘Beeston ACT’ (Arts, Culture, Tourism). Her ambitions are only matched by her energy, “Beeston, on a cultural level, punches above its weight, and I want to make sure the world knows about it.” An expert in heritage tourism, you’ll hear more about her this year as

she sets up a series of exciting local events... watch this space, or go to the ACT website at: a-c-tgroup.com

Networking group Creative Beeston will also be holding its first series of events soon. Run in conjunction with The Beestonian by James Hall, the intention is ‘To get people who work, want to work or merely dabble in creative pursuits to meet, share ideas, collaborate’. They’ll be holding the first event on 5 June at Belle & Jerome, visit creativebeeston.co.uk for more information.

There’s also been a wealth of events happening at Bartons over the last few months – and more to come; and on 16 May the First Annual Beeston Film Festival will have its launch event at Cafe ROYA. This could be a highly exciting event indeed, and a must for any local film buff.

Beeston is transforming, and not just from its buildings being ripped down. All over the town people are working hard to make it into something very special.

It all happens too fast to cover thoroughly in a monthly magazine, but you can keep up-to-date as often as you like with our Facebook page or Twitter feed, and enjoy the positive changes of our special town.

ISSUE 26: GET HIM TO THE CHURCH ON TIME!FREE

The University of Beestonia / BESTonian / Room with a view / Old kids on the block / Read it and meet / Horace’s Half Hour / Codeword / Poolie’s Beeston Triathlon / Bow selecta / Stars in our eyes / ViTaL update /The Beest / Au Contraire / Beeston Beats / Famous last words...

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Prof J returns from his paternity leave to give us an idea/remind all you Drs out there of all the reasons why the decision to undertake a PhD is not for the faint-hearted...

Earlier this month, almost ten years to the week since I was awarded my own PhD, my first PhD student defended

his thesis and became a doctor. Some kind of academic circle had been completed and two weeks later a new student was awarded a position to work with me and my colleagues on a project starting in September.Before I get too Lion King on you all, I’ll move on…

PhDs have not only been at the forefront of my day job, but recently there’s also been some interesting stuff written about the process in national media. I thought adding my own two penny worth might shed some light on the PhD process (quite a few PhD students end up living in Beeston – there is only so much Lenton a postgraduate can take, I guess…).

The PhD is quite a unique process; three years to work in great detail about something very focused. At the center of the process is the relationship between PhD student and

supervisor (it’s for life not just Christmas), and it is complex! A balance, or often imbalance, between love (in its most broadest of senses) and hate and a peculiar interaction of mutual reliance! Sometimes, it doesn’t work out. I’ve seen examples where this has been the fault of the supervisor, and sometimes the fault of the student. Sometimes, though, it’s nobody’s fault. Of course, this sort of thing is not uncommon in the workplace either, but, somehow, it can be intensified in a competitive academic environment, especially one where there aren’t many other people involved in a particular research area.

A PhD thesis is a strange beast. Approaching 100,000 words on a very very small bit of the world, which may never be read by more than 10 people. Usually at least three and a half years’ work condensed into one volume. On a positive note, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! The thesis is slowly being replaced in many institutions by a collection of published papers,

but this can be difficult in some subjects when it can take two and a half years to get a dataset together and the pressure is on to complete in three years (maybe it’s time I dealt with publishing, peer review and open access in this column… but not today.)

The PhD exam (viva), is the defense of the thesis. In the UK, it usually involves the candidate being questioned by two examiners, one from another institution and one from their own department who hasn’t had anything to do with the project. This can last a long time, but most vivas in my subject last between two and three hours. When these go well it’s a great opportunity for the student to talk about the work they’ve been doing. Thankfully they usually do go well, and if the supervisor and student have done their job right the thesis should be ready to go.

And after all that – PhD!!!!! “Dr” on your credit card; a big book on your bookshelf…. Prof J

It’s the time of year where that holiday you booked in the depths of January starts to loom closer, and with it comes the resultant

worries: passport renewed? Is a Visa required? How many days in advance will I have to be at the airport to ensure a swift check-in?

It’s awful. Foreign holidays are there to relax you back into work: the comparative stress of them makes the 9–5 grind seem like a snooze in an Epicurean garden. Why bother? Why bother when you could holiday right here in Beeston?Are you MAD, Lord Beestonia? Have those barrels of red wine and gallons of ale finally done for you? Ah, dear reader, fear not. My faculties are (more or less) intact, now take my hand and let’s head South.South of Queen’s Road, and into the Rylands, then onto the river. And where that river meets the canal, find your Shangri-la. Welcome to the Marina.Often overshadowed by its neighbour, Attenborough Nature Reserve, the Marina is a quiet place you’ve probably only passed through on occasion. Yet to linger is a fine thing. The cafe is great value, with proper tea and friendly staff. Even better, the building is a veritable shrine to all things Beeston. Pictures of the town of old adorn the walls, a heady experience for a man as drawn to all things sepia such as I.

The adjacent bar is just like every pub I remember from my youth being dragged round Skegness: the whole thing has that weird holiday feel too it. It’s gloriously unpretentious, eschewing the modernity of wood and metal for soft furnishings and carpets. The beer is pretty good too, and on at least ten days of the year you can even drink it on the riverside terrace without moaning about how bleddy parky it is.The narrow-boats, the soon-to-be resurrected Lock Cottage, the wide expanse of green across the river that stretches to those tiny villages, Barton, Gotham... even Clifton looks good from here. Is this the most relaxing place in Beeston? It’s possibly the oddest – with its life-size pirate, Dunkirk landing craft, and the sense that, while Beeston screams through change, this place is happy to be locked in time; quiet but for the gentle distant roar of the weir. It does its own thing, and for that we salute you, Beeston Marina.Tremble, Tenerife, tremble. LB

BESTonian: Beeston’s finestBeeston Marina

The University of

Beestonia

Image: Beeston Marina, from beeston.biz

Two things I like are art and walking, and just the other day I was saying to myself, “Ho hum, I wish I could combine

these two passions of mine.” Then it occurred to me that the answer was right in front of me! I just had to walk from Nottingham to the Tate Gallery in London and back! Well, just three short weeks, eight hobo knife fights, and twenty one charges of rough sleeping later, my dream was accomplished. I have calluses on my feet the size of Warhol tin cans, a postcard of a nice Turner, and eight wonderful new scars.

So you can imagine my anger upon arriving home to discover that Open Studios Nottingham is putting on its art trail events in May and June, and three of them are in Beeston, Chilwell and

Attenborough. I walked all that way! Ho hum indeed.

Hopefully, my feet and scars will have healed by Saturday 31 May, when the third annual Broxtowe Open Studios trail begins. The Saturday and Sunday will see artists Pam Miller, Zoe Zegzula, Lynda Child, John Paul Cooke and Alan Birchall displaying their works in several

closely situated galleries in Chilwell, Beeston and Attenborough – although, unlike me and my heavily disfigured feet, others may wish to drive between venues.

Between the 3 May and the 15 June over 150 artists will be taking part all over Nottingham. We’ll get to meet the artists and see their works, get involved in workshops, learn about the various crafts on show with demonstrations, and, of course, buy stuff.

I spoke with Pam Miller, who will be hosting at her home studio on Barrydale Avenue, about the event. She was awfully busy preparing for the event, but had just enough time to let me know that she’ll be giving demonstrations herself, as well as showing her works which she describes as using “metaphor for landscapes.”

Alongside Pam’s show will be John Paul Cooke, who’s showing his works of abstract art. I can see why the two have decided to show together.

Rooms with a

View “The Saturday and Sunday

will see artists displaying

their works in several

closely situated galleries

in Beeston... and over 150

artists will be taking part

all over Nottingham.”

Pam’s works have an abstract edge to them, impressionistic in the way they adapt what she sees (be it a cliff edge or a beach) into an emotional landscape. John’s, whilst being much more abstract upon first glance, make you feel like you’re looking through to something real. They both, in their own way, show us how our perceptions filter and change what we see.

Hmm. That’s about as intellectual as I get. I just peeled off a callus.

Learn more about the locations and opening times of the various Beeston venues, and those further afield, online at: osnotts.co.uk CF

Image: ‘Dusk Over Boulby Cliff II’ © Pam Miller

Every Sunday is SALSA DAY!

Second Tuesday of the month:

Quiz Night (hosted by The Beestonian)

Third Tuesday of the month:Open Mic Night

24 Middle Street, Beeston NG9 1FX

“Two things I like are art

and walking... I just had

to walk from Nottingham

to the Tate Gallery in

London and back!.”

The Boy’s Brigade was founded in 1883 by William Alexander Smith. The 1st Nottingham Company was formed in

1888 in connection with St Andrews Church on Mansfield Road in Nottingham. Beeston was, by this time, a fast-growing community, and during the summer of 1894 the music of a brass band could be heard in the streets leading the 15th Nottingham (Lenton) Company to give a display at the Station Road (then Brown Lane) schools. This was the preliminary to a decision to form a company in Beeston connected with the parish church.

The Beeston Company was enrolled as the 1st Beeston on 17 May 1895. The original officers were: Captain: Samuel J Woodcock. Lieutenants: George P Mills, Arthur Atkinson, Henry A Brooks, Stephen Stragham Rogers and Ernest S Rogers. The company met once a week in the mess room of the Humber Cycle Company premises at the bottom of Humber Road, for drill instruction. All members were required to attend the parish church, chapel or Sunday school as there was no bible class on Sundays.

In 1901, the Humber Cycle Company moved to Coventry, the company lost the use of the mess for drill and at the time, Captain Rogers, started looking for new premises for the company.

He finally decided to move the headquarters to a seed warehouse at Chilwell, a building close to where Barton’s Garage is. A year later the company suffered a setback when Captain Rogers resigned the Captaincy upon leaving the district. The company declined until, by 1905, to all intents and purposes it ceased to exist.

The 25 September 1909 saw the formation of the 17th Nottingham (Beeston) Company with Stephen Hetley Pearson as its Captain. It was on that date he opened a club room on the third floor of the Anglo-Scotian Mills at the top of Villa Street. On the first night 120 boys joined the company. The first annual inspection was held in the Scotian Mills premises on Saturday 17 May 1910, and it was attended by 180 boys. By early 1911, membership exceeded the 200 mark.

By 1913 a building was specifically erected for the use of the company. Robert Mellors (1916) explains “The building was erected at the cost of over £3,000 and considerable additions were made in 1915, at a cost of £1,000. In the first effort the boys made a weekly house-to-house collection, resulting in £363 being obtained. When it was opened the premises boasted large rooms for the use of officers and for ‘old boys’, games, a gym, drill and two baths. Upstairs, room for a class, non-commissioned officers, and the band. The rooms were furnished with a billiard table, provision for games and a library”.

When the Great War broke out, thirty old boys joined up at once. In April 1916, Captain Hetley Pearson joined up, first in the Northumberland Fusiliers at Gosforth Park, Newcastle Upon Tyne, then later he was gazetted as a Second Lieutenant in the 2nd Battalion Grenadier. In December 1917, the sad news was received that 2nd Lieutenant Stephen Hetley Pearson had fallen while leading his men at the battle of Cambrai. In 1933, a 25th anniversary plaque (see picture, left) was unveiled in memory of Stephen Hetley Pearson, ‘the founder’ of the Beeston Lad’s Club. In 2007 a controversial decision was made to demolish the Lads’ Club and replace it with a Tesco store. In 2012 it was decided that a blue plaque would be installed on the site of the old

Old kids on the block

Image: The Lads’ Club, 1976. Courtesy of picturethepast.co.uk

The Lads’ Club plaque, 1986. Courtesy of picturethepast.co.uk

What do Edinburgh, Cheltenham and Bath have that Nottingham doesn’t? Answer: A Literary Festival (ok – unless you count Lowdham Book Festival [cough] now in its 15th

year). Now, where would be the ideal place to rectify this omission? Somewhere with an abundance of cafés, great transport links... maybe a tram, even? You guessed it … Beeston; Nottingham’s very own Left Bank!

As we are oft reminded in The Beestonian, Beeston is a fabulous place full of creativity and conviviality. Sometimes this is very evident, such as when we all come out into the streets and pubs for the Oxjam Festival. But I also know that there are lots of people reading and meeting and talking about books in small groups in Beeston homes, pubs and library. Wouldn’t it be great to get together?

So, on the afternoon of Saturday, 24 May we will be hosting the first Readers’ Network here in Beeston.

Anyone who enjoys reading and talking about books (fiction and non-fiction) is very welcome. The Readers’ Network event will include a book group taster session, Pop-Up Vintage Tea Room and Book Swap. Hopefully, we will have so much fun that people will want to make this an annual event, and have shared ideas and enthusiasm enough to grow it into something worthy of Beeston’s developing Cultural Quarter. Maybe bookish types from far and wide will be hopping on that tram to Beeston.

Saturday, 24 May 2014 – Beeston Library (1st floor) 1.30 – 3.30pm. Bring a book or two to swap (optional). Free (donations for refreshments).

Email: [email protected] or text to 07761361145 to register attendance and/or just to express interest and be added to the network.

KS

Read it and meet

HORACE’S H A L F H O U R

1) Bath, Chelsea and Sally Lunn are all what?

2) What type of creature is a corncrake?

3) What do the letters VHS stand for?

4) How did Suffragette Emily Wilding Davison make history in 1913?

5) What is a Big Mac called in Russia?

6) The 2009 Decemberists LP “Hazards Of Love” was inspired by an album of the same name by which Beeston born folk singer?

7) Which is the only US state to begin with the letter ‘P’?

8) In 2008, Kate Winslet won an Academy Award for Best Actress – for which film?

9) Which novel begins: “You will rejoice to hear that

no disaster has accompanied the

commencement of an enterprise which

you have regarded with such evil

forebodings.”

10) Which Indian spiritual master maintained a vow of silence from 1925 until his death in 1969?

11) Unreleased works of which artist have recently been recovered on 30 year old Amiga discs?

YOU CAN KNIT THE ANSWERS IF YOU’RE CRAFTY LIKE THAT.FOR EVERYONE ELSE: THE ANSWERS AT BOTTOM OF PAGE* - NO KNITTING REQUIRED

(*AND, ON OCCASION, RIGHT NEXT TO THE QUESTION...)

ANSWERS: BUNS / BIRDS / VIDEO HOME RECORDING / FELL UNDER THE KING’S HORSE AT THE DERBY / BOLSHOI MAK / ANNE BRIGGS / PENNSYLVANIA / THE READER / FRANKENSTEIN BY MARY SHELLEY / MEYER BABA / ANDY WARHOL

CODEWORD WIN!!! Contact us (see back page for how) with the winning codeword to enter a draw to win a pair of tickets for a night out at Just The Tonic, Nottingham’s Original Comedy Club. (Closing date: 28 May)

Poolie’s Beeston Triathlon

27 You finally get a puncture from one of the dozens of potholes. Abandon the bike and walk.

82 You give way to a dumper truck at a junction where it is not clear who has right of way. Miss a turn while the driver spends 5 minutes perusing adult websites on his smartphone.

20 A mini-digger is making a small hole in the footpath. This shouldn’t pose a problem, but eight workies are standing admiring the work, blocking your path. Miss a turn until the foreman appears and they all scatter in a purposeful manner.

Re-live the wading-through-treacle frustration and tedium that is navigating the Beeston tramworks. Cycle, walk and drive as fast as the one-way lights allow during the Beeston Triathlon! 1 2 3 4 5 Dumper truck dumping

in your path. Miss a turn.

6 7 8 9

10 12 13 14 11 Elderly man trips on loose kerbstone. Go back to square 8 to help him up.

18 16 17 15 Cyclists to dismount. Miss a turn.

28

47

48

95

22 23 Elderly lady falls after slipping on mud. Go back to square 14 to help her up.

25 26 Young boy trips on a stray sandbag. Go back to square 22 to help him up.

24

37 36 33 32 31 Walking down a fence alleyway, a man pushing a toddler in a buggy approaches. Miss a turn while you climb up on a garden wall to let them past.

30 34

39 Walking down another fence alleyway, a woman with a twin buggy approaches. There are no garden walls to climb, so go back to square 31 to let them past.

40 41 42 44 43

53 52 49 You get splashed after a careless cement mixer delivery goes astray. Miss a turn while you wipe it off your shoes.

50 51

29

45 46

60 55 57 58 59 56

75

67 65 64 63 61 62 66 68

70 71 72 74 You suddenly realise that the alleyway of barriers you’ve walked down for the last 100 yards is a dead end. Go back to square 55.

73

78 85 84 81 79 Temporary traffic lights on red. Miss a turn.

80 83

94 87 89 90 93 91 88 You narrowly avoid running over a traffic warden ticketing cars in a road which has been designated a restricted zone with minimal signage. Better luck next time.

96 104 You’re there! Congratulations!

103 You turn down a round which isn’t marked as being closed, which means you have to take a detour around the back of the university which brings you back to where you started. Go back to square 77.

102 101 100 97 Temporary traffic lights turn green. Jump to square 102.

99

21

35

77

92

98

19

38

54

69

86

76 You finally get to where your car is parked - continue on 4 wheels.

Re-live the wading-through-treacle frustration and tedium that is navigating the Beeston tram works.

Cycle, walk and drive as fast as the one-way lights allow during the Beeston Triathlon!

Here’s The Beestonian’s answer to Snakes and Ladders, a game for up to six players.

If this wasn’t exciting enough, you can cut out the well-know Beeston faces/landmarks below to act as counters.

The rules are simple - you just need a dice and more than one person. Take it in turns to negotiate the assault course that is Beeston, avoiding all the hazards in your way.

The first one to get to square 104 is the winner!* Poolie

*NET reserve the right to extend the game by another 30 squares.

The Beeston Triathlon On pages ** and ** is The Beestonian’s answer to snakes and ladders, a game for up to ** players. If this wasn’t exciting enough, you can cut out the well-know Beeston faces/landmarks below to act as counters. The rules are simple - you just nice a dice and more than one person. Take it in turns to negotiate the assault course that is Beeston, avoiding all the hazards in your way. The first one to get to square 104 is the winner!*

*NET reserve the right to extend the game by another 30 squares.

Anna Marie from the NET posters

The handy information board

The Thorntons ice cream sign

The Stump in the Square

The statue of the Bee Man

The strawberry lady from Hallams

Poolie’s Beeston Triathlon

27 You finally get a puncture from one of the dozens of potholes. Abandon the bike and walk.

82 You give way to a dumper truck at a junction where it is not clear who has right of way. Miss a turn while the driver spends 5 minutes perusing adult websites on his smartphone.

20 A mini-digger is making a small hole in the footpath. This shouldn’t pose a problem, but eight workies are standing admiring the work, blocking your path. Miss a turn until the foreman appears and they all scatter in a purposeful manner.

Re-live the wading-through-treacle frustration and tedium that is navigating the Beeston tramworks. Cycle, walk and drive as fast as the one-way lights allow during the Beeston Triathlon! 1 2 3 4 5 Dumper truck dumping

in your path. Miss a turn.

6 7 8 9

10 12 13 14 11 Elderly man trips on loose kerbstone. Go back to square 8 to help him up.

18 16 17 15 Cyclists to dismount. Miss a turn.

28

47

48

95

22 23 Elderly lady falls after slipping on mud. Go back to square 14 to help her up.

25 26 Young boy trips on a stray sandbag. Go back to square 22 to help him up.

24

37 36 33 32 31 Walking down a fence alleyway, a man pushing a toddler in a buggy approaches. Miss a turn while you climb up on a garden wall to let them past.

30 34

39 Walking down another fence alleyway, a woman with a twin buggy approaches. There are no garden walls to climb, so go back to square 31 to let them past.

40 41 42 44 43

53 52 49 You get splashed after a careless cement mixer delivery goes astray. Miss a turn while you wipe it off your shoes.

50 51

29

45 46

60 55 57 58 59 56

75

67 65 64 63 61 62 66 68

70 71 72 74 You suddenly realise that the alleyway of barriers you’ve walked down for the last 100 yards is a dead end. Go back to square 55.

73

78 85 84 81 79 Temporary traffic lights on red. Miss a turn.

80 83

94 87 89 90 93 91 88 You narrowly avoid running over a traffic warden ticketing cars in a road which has been designated a restricted zone with minimal signage. Better luck next time.

96 104 You’re there! Congratulations!

103 You turn down a round which isn’t marked as being closed, which means you have to take a detour around the back of the university which brings you back to where you started. Go back to square 77.

102 101 100 97 Temporary traffic lights turn green. Jump to square 102.

99

21

35

77

92

98

19

38

54

69

86

76 You finally get to where your car is parked - continue on 4 wheels.

Tim Pollard, Nottingham’s Official Robin Hood gets a little (George) Cross, exclusively for The Beestonian.

So, it turns out I’m a racist.

To be honest that’s news to me but someone on the Nottingham Post website

said so, therefore it must be true I guess. The reason for the (as far as I know frankly unwarranted) accusation was the photo and article in the Post showing me as Robin Hood and some of the Knights of Nottingham as St. George and his retinue in the Market Square after having taken part in the City’s increasingly-well attended annual St. George’s Day parade (as I write this, yesterday). It was this which prompted someone to suggest that we were (and here I’ll reproduce their entire post, so you can understand the subtleties of their argument): “RACISTS!”

I’m not one of those people who’ll try to gain credibility (difficult for me at the best of time, I know) by claiming to have lots of friends from all areas of society, because I haven’t; that’s not by choice or preference though, just circumstance. Plus, of course, I don’t think the comment was aimed at me specifically or because of any personal knowledge of my views, beliefs or activities, but simply because we were taking part in a parade celebrating our national patron saint.

Oddly enough I wasn’t similarly attacked for having taken part in the City’s St. Patrick’s Day parade in March, so I have to assume that the rather succinct but poorly argued epithet was lobbed casually either by a nutter, a ‘troll’ determined to just be insulting or someone who genuinely believes that anyone who takes part in a parade like this is somehow intrinsically some form of white supremacist, intent on ‘keeping England white’, ensuring China stays British and that the sun never sets on the Empire.

I appreciate that even in the recent past there has been a tension around the flying of the St. George cross - it was sadly hijacked by football thugs, genuine racists and people who believe the word ‘England’ is pronounced with three syllables but in the past few years there seems to have been a distinct attempt to ‘reclaim’ the flag. Certainly the City’s St. George’s Day parade itself has become a much more popular and family-friendly affair, attended by and spectated upon by all sections of the community; a great cross-section of the types of people you’d normally find around the bottom of Mansfield Road, Clumber Street and in the Market Square.

So my question is this: is celebrating a national figurehead who is now generally perceived as a simply a fictional embodiment of ‘English’ character (like er… ooh, I dunno, say… Robin Hood) racist in itself? Should we abandon pageantry, history, Morris dancing and the St. George’s Cross simply because some people regard such things as divisive? (Hint: No, no, yes, no).

The ‘real’ St. George, a 1730+ year old Palestinian elevated to the status of national patron saint in the 14th century doesn’t really get a look-in these days, it’s all that stuff with the dragon that gets the attention… so maybe I’m onto a winner after all – because to be fair, ‘Robin Hood and the troll’ also has a certain ring to it. TP

Bow Selecta

Stars in our eyes

Last December, Michelle and Richard Daniels excitedly set off for the QMC maternity suite, Michelle was in labour

with a baby daughter. What happened next is even difficult to write, so I cannot imagine the pain they were to go through.

Emily, the couple’s new baby, was stillborn.

Stillborn births are, thankfully, increasingly rare due to fantastic advances in medicine and midwifery. Yet each year in the UK, around 4,000 families will be born dead, or die during birth. Each event is a plunge into hell for the parents; a cruel, crushing event. My late grandmother’s sixth, and last, child was stillborn: half a century after the event, her eyes would well with tears at the memory.

I arrange to meet Richard at his office for a chat, and can confess now that I was pretty terrified about the prospect. Death is never easy to talk about, but the death of a baby… yet, by the end of our chat I left swollen not just of throat, but with pride at my community and the strength of human resilience.

After they lost Emily, the couple decided that a positive had to be found in the ocean of negative they had been pitched into. While still grieving for Emily, they realised that the QMC has no dedicated area for bereaved parents, and while Richard reports that the staff there were nothing less than incredible, having to stay on a maternity ward with the sounds of newborns around you does nothing to help. They pledged there and then to try to address this situation. They would fund raise enough to provide the QMC with a bereavement suite for those who were to go through the terrible events they had been through, sparing them the extra salt-lash of grief they had endured.

The not-for profit scheme (at press time, official

charity status is pending) was named Forever Stars, with the intention of raising £25,000 for the suite, and also raise awareness of stillbirth. They assumed getting the word out and getting in funds might prove difficult. This is where you, as Beestonians, come in. You’ve been fantastic.

Word got out about the fund-raising and spread quickly. Before long, donations were flowing in, raffle prizes donated, help offered. People pledged to run the forthcoming Robin Hood Marathon to bring in donations. Beeston, as a whole, rallied round to make sure the couple’s aims would be achieved. At the time of writing, their Facebook site had nearly 5,000 likes, and 16 weeks since launch, they have already raised a staggering £17,000. The list of good deeds done by people is far too long to include here, but particularly moving was one example Paul gave, “An old lady came directly to the office. She’d heard us on the radio, and dropped off a donation - just like that. Things like that keep on happening.”

Yet while the money is coming in, they still need more to hit that target. Please find their Facebook site, and their webpage, and drop them whatever you can spare. If you see them fundraising in town (the webpage has details of events), go along, say hello, and give what you can.

“Nothing will bring Emily back,” Richard says “but if we can make that experience a little less painful for others, then some good has come of this.” With the generosity, spirit and sense of community that this town is rich in, some light shines from a very dark place. The Beestonian collectively doffs its cap to Richard and Michelle for their tireless work, and to this town we are so proud to be a part of. LB

foreverstars.org

facebook.com/foreverstars

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If you would like to sponsor us, donate,

post an advert or become a stockist of

The Beestonian, please email us at: [email protected]

If you’d like to receive future issues in

the post, please send a SAE (one per issue) to our postal address (see back page)

and we’ll send the next issue(s) direct to your door!

by stopping them trading for such a long period of time. Again though, I wasn’t optimistic that such a sum would be offered. After all, that we got a response to our email at all was in itself something of a miracle.

The Beestonian has been keeping in contact with Teresa, but up to the point of printing we’ve yet to hear Ladbrokes’ offer. They have been sent a whole host of relevant information from Teresa upon which to best judge how much they could give. No doubt, when their answer comes Lord Beestonia will tweet or blog about it. But for the time being, please continue to keep Teresa and her new charity Transform in mind.

You can learn more about the charity, or donate, online at: youngpotential.co.uk CF

The saga of Teresa Cullen and Young Potential has been something of a running feature in the last few issues. It’s a story that just won’t end. In the last issue we printed the letter we wrote to the CEO of Ladbrokes, imploring him to take responsibility for Young Potential’s demise and donate a substantial amount of money to their new incarnation Transform. Honestly, we weren’t expecting so much as a reply, and if so, we thought we’d get an automatic response. The like of “Your concern has been filed. Please enjoy this free betting voucher for £10 off your first bet (valid every sixteenth Tuesday and only on a bet of £100 or more).”

However, when Lord Beestonia told me we’d received an email directly from the CEO, Richard Glynn, I had to see it to believe it.

He (or, admittedly, possibly his secretary), wrote,

“I can only apologise that (our actions) contributed to putting ViTaL into a precarious position. Please be assured that we do not wish to restrict or discourage the fantastic work that local charities undertake in their communities. In the circumstances, it seems very appropriate for us to make a donation to Transform.”

The letter admitted wrongdoing, or at least unfortunate circumstances as a result of their actions and, as you can see, agreed explicitly that a donation should be made from Ladbrokes to the charity. Lord Beestonia and I were thrilled.

We forwarded the letter to Teresa, who was equally pleased that some good might finally come from this. But now began the long process of working with them to work out an appropriate sum of money for Ladbrokes to give.

Now, my own personal opinion (not necessarily that of The Beestonian, Teresa or Transform) is it would be shameful if Teresa received anything less than £20,000. That is about the minimum Ladbrokes cost the charity

Announcement

All scribes, paps, scribblers and general Beestonian minions would like to wish our (occasionally) be-nign dictator and his most excellent Weasel much

and many CONGRATULATIONS on their wedding day this month. Held at a location in Beeston, the party is so secret that even HELLO! have no idea whatsoever of its occurrence... Well done, Sir! Be happy! Don’t fuck it up! xx

ViTaL news

Beeston Beats contraire… Au

I don’t like sleep, I love it. And there aren’t many things in life that I truly love. It fixes everything from heartache to a hangover, and sometimes both. When I’m asleep I don’t have to worry about work or money or

world peace. One of my favourite things to do is sleep, mainly because of the reasons listed above, but also because it’s a necessity. Sleep is absolutely essential and anyone who lives by the mantra “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” should look in a mirror and realise they already look dead due lack of sleep.

I find few things nicer than turning off an alarm, rolling over and going back to glorious sleep. It’s not that I’m not a morning person – I’m simply not a person who enjoys waking up. Ever. At any given time of day or night. When something or someone prevents me from sleeping I unleash nothing less than Hell on them. If I am unable to unleash Hell on the

wrongdoers for whatever reason, my body literally shuts down by itself, as I found out in November while on a night flight full of drunk, rowdy men. I reserve a degree of admiration for anyone who manages to make their way through a six-pack of Stella at 5.30am, but prevent me from sleeping and I will finish you like a cheesecake. Or just sit quietly in my seat and fall asleep to the sweet sound of Slayer, blasting out through my headphones.

Dreaming, on the other hand, is my least favourite thing about sleep, closely followed by people who like to discuss dreams. I think about millions

of things all day every day, so when I’m asleep I’d like to just not think about anything at all. If I do have to dream about something, I’d prefer to dream about myself sleeping and thinking about nothing. Pure bliss. Then at least I wouldn’t have to indulge people in conversations about dream interpretations and other mumbo jumbo stupid people like to discuss. Dreaming is a burden and requires some sort of effort and clearly, I’m not one for effort. As my worthy opponent says, people who can’t sleep hate sleep, those who indulge in it too much fail to appreciate it and people who have devoted their life to children worship it. I’m sure she speaks the truth on this matter but currently I’m none of those. I am, however, in danger of eventually becoming one of those three rather unfortunate types of people, so I like to mix things up. The majority of the time I keep myself on my toes by indulging in what can only be describes as planned sleep deprivation so as to eventually find myself enjoying that extra hour of sleep even more than usual. Occasionally I will let myself appreciate the experience of sleep by sleeping all day and all night. Sometimes I even take the occasional nap because it feels so bad, and yet so good. A lot of the time I find myself being mocked for my resemblance of a sloth. But it truly doesn’t matter when I get to do my favourite thing – sleep. ND

Against: Tamar

“I reserve a degree of

admiration for anyone

who makes their way

through a six-pack of

Stella at 5.30am, but

prevent me sleeping

and I will finish you

like a cheesecake.”

SLEEP

For: NoraSleep is dull. The hour you went to bed last night? The hour you got

up this morning? Your dreams (please god, not your dreams) or lack thereof? All of it: [yawn] DULL. I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t

care how many years you’ve woken up at 3 a.m. On. The. Button. Unless I’m your GP, or you’re paying me for this conversation, why would I care? For something that inexorably takes up half of our life, you’d think we’d be able to do it and not bang on about it.

When I hear someone say they’re “not a morning person” or “a bit of a night owl” I think, “really? How interesting” and then go back to whatever it was I was trying to do before they waded across with their unfathomable interestingness. I mean, what am I supposed to do with this information? Hey, maybe we could also talk at me about the colour of your wee, or your last period? Maybe the way you tie your laces? Or how much loo roll you use ‘per go’? (actually, scrap that last one - that ran for a hilarious whole evening once…)

It’s the waking hours of a person that’s interesting and meaningful. Unless, like I said, I’m your doctor – or you’re under arrest, I don’t need to know that you woke up at 4 and it was getting light. This is one reason why I don’t do ‘communal’ sleeping. Sleep-overs in bunk beds, camping on the living room floor – anything involving shut-eye and people I don’t live with – and I’d rather kip on my tod outside, on the bare, hard earth, blinked at by a real night owl. (Note to self: this genuinely sounds like a good idea.)

Sleep usually, though thankfully not always, involves dreams – and, therefore, all kind of related, involuntary sounds and reflexes (the ‘Cup-winning volley from 30 yards’ or the ‘batting away a rat’ being some of the more dangerous). It also involves snoring, night toots, sleep-talking, sleep-walking and drool. Hideous.

Ideally, we’d have evolved a way to just have a coma shut-down for 8 hours (shorter instalments available for shift-workers, clubbers and new parents). Thereby not only remedying all sleep deprived, insomniac, nightmare-laden, anxiety-riddled, apnoea sufferers everywhere; but also ridding the world of Dream Bores. They’re illusive creatures; one minute you’re having a normal, general conversation with someone you have already judged as a Good Egg and the next they’ve donned some kind of dunce cap and are seeking to solve the issue in hand, ostensibly, by whether or not your dream last night had teeth or money in it. Whoah! Worst-still are people who tell you they dream in black and white, or have had “the same abstract dream for years”. They think, I conjecture, that this makes them a Top Ten Percentile Human Being. However, one night, possibly right before they croak in their monochrome same-old same-old sleep, they will realise this is not only NOT the case but, further epiphany will show, perhaps instead of waxing lyrical about all the guff that happens when their brain is pooing out the day’s thoughts, they could have used their brainbox a little more interestingly and for greater good when awake, especially when in conversation with little ol’ me.

People who *can’t* sleep hate it; people who sleep too much become brain-addled so don’t appreciate it; people who’ve pawned sleep for having kids worship it, and people who just sleep and don’t think that much about it will most probably at some point become one of the other three. See. Damned if you do, damned if you…zzzzzzzzzz TF

“A bit of shut-eye in the land of Nod? What could they possibly find wrong with that?” we hear you wonder. But, dear reader, this is Au Contraire. There is always something wrong with something...

After taking some time off to tour the Indian takeaways of Long Eaton, (think like in Batman where he goes to the

mountains to train – like that, but with more ghee), I return with some shocking news – there is actually a Beeston act (well at least two of them are) that hasn’t been covered by The

Beestonian, and, what’s more, I briefly played in a band with two of ‘em about 15 years ago. So let’s set aside the recent nice, almost jolly-hockey-sticks, corking niceness of a few of the recent Beeston Beats and get stuck into some bad natured chatter, swearing and serious drinking, as I bring you: The Soundcarriers.

They consist of Adam, Pish, Dorian and Leonore. And what do they sound like? Hmm ok, rant on-coming...

Years ago, I heard Ozzy Osbourne bemoaning the amount of different tags and sub-genres in heavy metal, opining if, in fact, they had not yet created dishwasher metal, he’d be surprised – If I recall correctly he then went on to talk about doing a poo onstage. That kind of dichotomy of intellect and earthiness, I like. Someone once described to me the sound of this issue’s subjects as “Wickerman Folk”– er, wtf ? I have a new label for people who over-intellectualise and make odd new genres – “fuckmuppets”.

Anyway, what do the band sound like, Jimmy? Well, er, they do sound a bit like they have watched The Wickerman too many times, I believe they also credit film soundtracks such as John Barry’s Midnight Cowboy as an influence. My take on it is a more experimental version of the likes of Pentangle – with a bigger sonic range, maybe a bit more transatlantic, with a haunting quality to the vocals. Sorry, I started

sound like Gilly Goulden then...

Three of the band members started out years ago in the band Polska – featuring Beeston’s own pint-sized guitar ace, Little Barrie. Since the release of their debut single in 2007, they have attracted support slots for Belle and Sebastian, and the attentions of Stuart Maconie and Mark Riley, hitting the play-list on both of the aforementioned Radio 6 shows.

Their latest album, ‘Entropicalia’, is going to be released on 20 May. Included on it is Frodo out of Lord of the Rings – kind of.

Anyway, I interviewed bassist Pish (a Beeston lad originally) on their current activities and what they do.

The Soundcarriers get tagged as many different

things, I have seen you described even as

Wickerman style folk mixed with psychedelia.

How do you see your style?

“That was loosely the angle when we started out, acid folk but with a groove. We had a definite idea of what ingredients we wanted to use. Its kind of similar now but we’ve made the sound more expansive/cinematic, just a natural progression really. We’ve always incorporated an element of groove into the music, sometimes its heavy, sometimes subtle but the music always has to swing.”

You and Adam have played together for a long time

now. Am I right in saying you guys were together

since Polska? Do you find you have developed

joint musical personality or maybe even a psychic

musical link?

“Adam and I have played together since school in various forms. To have the focal point of the sound coming from the rhythm section is quite unique. Normally in bands songs are created by a guitarist / singer combination so it makes things interesting to have a slightly different approach. There’s definitely some kind of psychic link, I don’t know how it happens but we always seem to be on the same page musically even if we haven’t seen each other for a while.”

You’ve had a fair bit of media attention over the

past few years. Has this lead to more success? What

you guys up to currently ?

“The new LP (‘Entropicalia’) is out in May on Ghost Box Records. It’s good to work with a label that have a similar outlook and understand where we’re coming from. There’s always stuff in the pipeline, we’ve already started recording another album. Its a continual process.”

Tell us about you guys collaborating with Elijah

Wood? How did that come about?

“He posted something online about us and we had a kind of ‘out there’ track that we thought would sound good as a spoken word piece. We asked him if he’d be interested in getting involved, he was into the idea and it all came together quite easily. We’d like to do more stuff like that, sometimes it’s good to break things down and approach it in a different way. We don’t limit ourselves to just recording songs, instrumentals can be just as effective.”

You are originally a Beeston fella – which is your

favourite boozer?

“I’m down with the Crown.” [other pubs are

available - Ed.]

Last question – We briefly played together in the

band Chicken George, any fond memories? (Ha!

joke question)

“Too many to mention... but the incident with the girl in the swimming pool springs to mind!”

JW

Beeston Beats

Jimmy can be found selling all things guitar,

and teaching Blues guitar, at The Guitar

Spot,Chilwell Road, Beeston (and either The

Crown or The Hop Pole of an evening. His is a

lime & soda, though please...)

theboozeworldofjimmywiggins.

blogspot.co.uk

Facebook us, tweet us, email us or even scribble us a proper, handwritten letter (we love those the most). We’ll publish it here.

Famous last words…

Like Darren Kirkbride, in his piece (‘I may take the High road’, Issue 25), I, too, am a Scot living in Beeston who wished I’d been paid every time I was asked about Scottish Independence. Maybe I wouldn’t be running around in a 17-year-old car if I had! Any time I speak when I am out and about, it seems someone (often a complete stranger!) will pipe up, “Ah! So – you In or Out? “ Though, don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoy giving them my tuppence worth!

Imagine a scale of 1 to 10 – where 1 is Scotland’s complete assimilation with England and 10 was it being totally independent. Well, Scotland, unsurprisingly, has never been a 1 – it has had its own legal and education system; its own Church, and geographically – even being stuck at the north end of that little rock we call Britain, it has felt detached. Then there’s the history. Some ill-informed people in my homeland think that something that was taken away in 1707 [the Act of Union, folks. Do keep up. – Ed.] – it wasn’t. The powers that be in Scotland back then chose to accept Union with England. Okay, so economically they probably felt they had little choice. But whose fault was that? England was a more powerful competitor. What was best – fight or join? The standard of living for most Scots was a sixth of that of their English counterparts at the time. Today, most Scots are better off!

Many years went by, and then along came Devolution and the increased associated powers that this gives probably shifts Scotland up to 5 on the Scale. And now we have the possibility of Independence. But my question is two-fold: What is ‘Independence’? And ‘Independence’ from what? Alex Salmond wants Scotland to keep the Pound, the Monarchy, stay in Europe, NATO, keep Trident etc. so what difference will being ‘Independent’ actually make? Very little, in my opinion. Independence would probably only move us up to 6 or 7 on the Scale. Real

independence, such as North Korea’s, does not seem very appealing. The Scottish model will, of course, be nothing like North Korea as it will continue to be a democracy with the Monarchy as its Head of State. But Scotland will still not be truly independent. Not really. So why all the fuss? Increased devolved powers (now accepted by the Tories and Labour as a viable alternative; something they would work on) would probably move Scotland up to 6 on the Scale – about as far as we could go. Independent Scotland wants to be part of Europe and remain in NATO. Therefore, straight away, it will be governed by policy made elsewhere on matters such as defence, human rights, fishing, all sorts of other legalities etc. It also wants to keep the pound, therefore remaining fiscally entwined with the rest of the UK – where’s the Independence in that?

At the moment, Scotland is an oil-rich nation. But what happens when the oil runs out? Will the nation be able to hold its own economically when in competition with its larger southern neighbour? Shades of 1707 again? What would happen to a Scotland that had gone it alone if it suffered a banking crisis such as the RBS fiasco of six years ago? And what will happen to the SNP if they achieve a ‘Yes’ vote? They’ll cease to exist. Scotland will revert to a government led by the Labour Party.

I believe it has been a good concept to explore, this independence thing, but, ultimately Scotland and the other countries in the United Kingdom will be stronger and better together. I am sad that I can’t vote, but I am not surprised (Salmond’s a clever cookie – he knows most ex-pat Scots would vote ‘No’ anyway). I do remain fiercely patriotic and immensely proud of my homeland. However, I believe increased, devolved powers (as has been promised in the event of a ‘No’ vote), will be best for a confident Scotland. – Killie Pie (via email)

The Beestonian is…Editor / lead writer / founder – Lord Beestonia

Co-founder / resident don – Prof J

Design – Tamar

Associate editor – Christian Fox

Top-notch contributors this issue:

Nora, Jimmy, Joe Earp, Poolie., Ric Salinger,

Chris Fox, Tamar, Tim Pollard, Prof J, Karen

Stainer, Deman, Weasel (for the love).

Printed by Pixels & Graphics, Beeston.

Stockists:Belle & Jerome , The Hop Pole, The Crown, The White Lion, The Star, The Greyhound, Flying Goose, Mish Mash Gallery, Attik, The Guitar Spot, Relish, Broadgate Laundrette, Bubba Tea, The Bean, Beeston Library, Cafe ROYA, Newsagent on Chilwell Road, Metro, Beeston Marina Bar and cafe.

Huge thanks to all of our contributors, sponsors, stockists, regular readers and anyone who has picked this up for the first time.

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We at The Beestonian love getting actual letters. So when we received this gem of a postcard, we were dead chuffed. However, there was no clue of its provenance… yet, then we discovered a similar card at Cafe ROYA, with the same handwriting. Roya gave us some details on the culprits, and they sound like wonderful people! We salute you, crafty Beestonians.The Editor