alwaysperfectlywrite

Well, even Casablanca’s success was unexpected so we should not be surprised that Israeli director, URI BAR-ON’s A Kiss Is A Kiss Is A Kiss  was seen by a very select audience at tonight’s reception for the UK Jewish Film Festival on Tour in Manchester.

After all, an early Monday evening city-centre do a bare week before Passover is not everyone’s idea of an unmissable treat. But Bar-on’s engaging five-minute comedy on the politics of kissing, first seen at last year’s festival, not only had me giggling but highlighted director, JUDY IRONSIDE’s emphasis on diversity.

Shame there weren’t more people there to share the joke and enjoy the hospitality of the current LORD MAYOR OF MANCHESTER, COUNCILLOR MAVIS SMITHEMAN.

Never mind, I loved it!

msniw

Journalists SAMANTHA SIMMONDS and ANGELA LEVIN were reviewing the weekend papers on SKY NEWS when they hit upon a story about stem cell treatment for breast augmentation. They’re both experienced and mature enough to know better  but discussed the item almost as a joke.

Wonderful advances in stem cell research are helping to save people’s lives and in my view the treatment should not be used for trivial cosmetic purposes.

Nor do artificial breast implants help everyone. I remember with everlasting sadness how a close family friend had an implant following a mastectomy but went on to die when the cancer returned and fairly rampaged throughout her entire system.

‘Linda’ as I name her for this item was an enormously strong character with a highly developed self-image and  remained elegantly dressed and made-up even through the worst of her illness. It was this self-image that made her go through with the implant - which was not easy - indeed she once described  in fine detail how she would walk up and down her landing at night to ease the intense pressure from the implant which would not let her sleep. 

For my part, I am convinced it was her undoing and that without it we would be enjoying her energising company to this day. As it is, we buried her more than 10 years ago and my final memory of her barely alive was visiting her at the CHRISTIE HOSPITAL, South Manchester and noticing her elegantly manicured and painted nails as the one remaining vestige of her once immaculate frame.

More recently another dear friend has undergone radical self-stem cell treatment for lymphoma. She, too, has remained remained wonderful to look at while unbelievably brave throughout her awful illness and treatment. But recently she revealed that she is rather poorly again and I can only pray that her medical advisers may help her once more.

If any medical professionals happen on this piece I beg them not to allow stem cell treatment to be used frivolously but to fight for it to be  confined to saving the lives of people we love. I certainly will.

msniw

 There are days when I don’t know what to natter about first.

Let’s start with something safe - the difficulty and  cost of shopping for Passover - very much the Russian doll of the food trade - being a skewed corner inside a niche market. And Lord, only those shopping and schlepping over this horrendous pre-festival period will  appreciate quite what I mean!

I was going to tell you last week how I visited ASDA Supermarket, Pilsworth, Bury armed with a £10.00 gift voucher from iPoints.co.uk  to start the Passover trudge. Alas, it took the help of two assistants, a husband and an eagle eye to spot the paltry selection perched on the end of an aisle several yards away from the year round kosher section.

Nor was I more impressed by ASDA later the same day when at their invitation I first entered an online sweepstake and went on to apply to join its ‘Pulse of the Nation’ survey team. Why not ‘impressed’?  I spent more than 10 minutes completing my registration, only to be informed at the end that there were already sufficient members from my area. I think someone needs to check the ASDA marketing team’s pulse!

Meanwhile, I had managed to find matza, crisps and grape juice at ASDA, but stocked up on TOMOR margarine back at MORRISON’s, Whitefield and this early a.m. went on to one of north-west Jewry’s favourite kosher delis on my annual pilgrimage.  I write of  J. A. HYMAN TITANICS LTD, named because the founding great-granddad of present-day owner, RICHARD, was one of those lucky enough to escape death on the ill-fated voyage.

Even as a dyed-in-the-sap vegetarian, I must admit that Richard has achieved the near-impossible by winning a prize for making heimishe (traditional Ashkenazi Jewish delicacies) very trendy - nay - almost chic. The reason we don’t visit him more often is simply because he serves the general kosher trade and it is only at times like Pesach (Passover) that we need his services.

As a highly specialised, once-a-year market, the cost of Passover groceries throws into sharp relief some of the steep price increases suffered by the general food industry. I hope that when the economy turns, the cost of Passover groceries becomes a little more manageable as prices at three places I haved shopped thus far, are very, very high indeed.

msniw

If my memory serves me, LIONEL SHRIVER’s terrifying novel, We Need to Talk About Kevin, hinges on a Thursday.

I’m not surprised. I’ve always hated the day myself. Yesterday was no exception. Brian came home after a bad selling day in terrible weather and a problem with our SUZUKI CARRY VAN.

Our broadband internet connection was intermittent (VIRGIN MEDIA supposedly are about to increase the speed from 2MB to 10MB - but we’re not holding our breath) and this morning we awoke to a freezing house as the boiler had conked out over night.

To top it all, Friday is the only day I can’t hang around for an untimed call,  so the N-POWER engineer won’t visit us until some time tomorrow morning.  But the nightmare won’t be over unless we’re told that the repair can be done under the service contract. If not, we’re talking heapy, heapy big pennies for a replacement.

Girls and boys, pray for us now!

msniw

CLINT EASTWOOD’s latest - and by all accounts - last movie is an odd, mournful offering in which he reprises his best loved roles. It is also deeply unsettling and made me wonder as I left the Vue Cinema, Bury last night whether he was saying ‘good bye’, not just to Hollywood, but to us all.

The craggy actor is aged 79,  painfully thin and his voice raises barely above a hoarse whisper.

Gran Torino’s opening scenes are quite boringly slow, but the movie gathers momentum and pathos as Eastwood develops the part of taciturn widower, Walt Kowalski, whose service in Korea had been both his moral awakening and so it turns out, self-inflicted doom.

If I’m any judge, I’m unsure if the movie has the effect that Eastwood desires.

msniw

‘TWAS a bright and fairly early Sunday afternoon when we decided to visit the Imperial War Museum North (http://north.iwm.org.uk/) at Salford Quays and the nearby Lowry Outlet Shopping Mall (http://www.lowryoutletmall.com/) before dashing home so I could see a client. 

“Easy”, we thought. ‘We’ll jump on a tram at Whitefield Metro Station (leaving the car in the nearby  car park) and get off at Harbour City so we’ll have time to see the Museum’s interesting show about Women War Artists before sloping off for a troll around the shops and a cup of coffee”.

Not on your - or my - life! We had picked Sunday 15 March, when not only was Manchester city centre  packed for a pre-St Patrick Day’s Parade but Stagecoach Metrolink (http://www.stagecoachgroup.com), which runs the tram service throughout Greater Manchester, had closed some lines for repair and supposedly laid on replacement buses. However, we saw no public notices to advise us,  so we were unaware of the situation until I’d bought my ticket (Brian had a free concession) and were sitting on the tram. We alighted at Crumpsall and waited for 10-15 minutes with a large crowd for a bus (or buses) which did not arrive. Finally, we stalked off in high dudgeon, returned to Whitefield, picked up the car and arrived at the Quays about 20 minutes later.

But I’d wasted £4.00 on a return ticket and as the professional fusspot you know me to be, it was my solemn duty to complain in writing to Metrolink.

The company then appeared to act most professionally. I received a speedy acknowledgement and a promise to investigate. Today, Wednesday 25 March, I received not ONE, but TWO letters of apology from Cheryl Hubbard, Customer Services Manager, one enclosing a refund for the ticket. 

Ms Hubbard was most courteous but unfortunately her advisers were as economical with the truth as they have been generous with their stationery. (Left hand, right hand, me thinks!)

She wrote: “I can assure you that notices were placed on all stops and on trams two weeks prior to the work…”

I’m afraid that didn’t help as I had not used the tram since January.

She went on: “… the posters at Whitefield were situated on the Manchester bound platform next to the ticket machine and next to the ticket machine in the main entrance.”

I’m afraid Cheryl, luv, there was nothing there early Sunday afternoon 15 March. So, either your staff have been leading you on summat awful. Or - let’s be kind - the same vandals who have defaced the window of the ticket machine in the entrance hall so badly that the numerals and instructions are totally obliterated, are also responsible for removing your flyers.

The next time I need to use the tram is Monday 30 March and I’ll keep you posted (should that be ‘postered’) about what happens.

msniw

• I received a £400.00 voucher from DSG RETAIL (PC WORLD) to replace my old machine. I now have a super 2GB ACER ASPIRE 5735 which, bar a couple of minor hiccups, runs like a dream. So, you’ll probably think me greedy  when I maintain the payout was not enough: It did not recompense me for being without my old machine for two months; for having it ‘written off’ without consultation; for losing the data on my hard drive (which was returned to me - damaged - after a tussle) or for the fact that my original machine cost £1,100.00 and had included pre-installed Microsoft Office.

• I’ve had two more telephone battles with E.ON ENERGY about our monthly direct debit. They attempted to raise our Gas debit by £8.00 on the basis of only two months’ payment after the new rate was set in November. I challenged them in February and again, yesterday and demanded that it be returned to the previously agreed rate. I think - indeed, I hope - that this time I’ve won - particularly as we’re now entering the summer period and domestic energy prices have been dropped.

• My next challenge is to persuade a reluctant client that he owes me for work completed. Now this promises to be a story which runs and runs …!

msniw

“The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime.”

This much misquoted remark coined by VISCOUNT GREY OF FALLODON on the eve of World War 1 has added resonance as the modern world fights what may be a losing battle to save the environment.

His words have yet more piquancy as the WORLD WILD LIFE FUND and on-line networking groups like the INTERNATIONAL NETWORK OF SOCIAL ENTREPRENEURS encourage people to:

«Join people and businesses around the world who are turning out their lights for one hour at 8:30 pm on March 28 and taking action against climate change. ‘Earth Hour’ not only turns global attention to the need to find solutions to climate change, it also demonstrates the power that each of us has to make a difference in the future of the planet.

They urge: «Go dark and show your concern for our living planet while sending a strong message to our leaders that we must act now to slow climate change».  

More details from: http://www.earthhourus.org/main.php

  Selina at her beautiful best …

The sad death of NATASHA RICHARDSON recalls my family’s wafer-slim connection with hers. My mother, neé SELINA SALTMAN, was an avid movie and theatre fan and head over heels in love with many actors of her generation. Natasha’s handsome grandfather, SIR MICHAEL REDGRAVE, was among them.

Imagine her thrill, then, when GRANDMA DORA managed to wangle her an invitation to meet him. How?

My mother’s family then lived in Bournemouth and Grandma was friendly with Redgrave’s landlady in Dorset. So the pair arranged for Selina to have afternoon tea at his digs when he was working in the area.

I’m not privy to the menu but Mummy certainly made a meal of the story to her own dying day!

Perhaps she would like to have been the lady who vanished with Sir Michael …?

Let’s stop mucking about. We’re in a  depression.

It took months for international politicians and economists to utter the ‘R’ word. Now we must enunciate the full ‘D’!

When I hear a bright young girl weeping about lack of work, things are desperate. When I learn about a smartly-dressed, well-spoken woman living on the streets like a bag lady,  it’s time to beg: ”Buddie, can you spare a quid”. And when we hear the Prime Minister -  a self-evidentally kind and humane individual - sympathise and empathise  with every individual job seeker it’s time for some harsh reality. Personal crises - like wars -bring out the best and worse in us all.

Let’s be frank: Many businesses were long-overdue for closure and a great many more individuals were ripe for redundancy or retraining. I don’t rate business psychologists, event managers or party planners. We don’t need outmoded retail outlets like Woolworths, a pub on very street corner or a fast food-outlet on every other parade. And if it means I’m bothered less by silly kids from call centres trying to sell me everything from security to mobile phones, then it has to be a good thing.

When this awful economic ‘war’ is over - which  may not happen before next Christmas - I look forward to a new slimline world where people understand that jobs - like rights - always come paired with responsibilities.

Wow, I’m glad I’ve got that lot off my chest. Now, I’m away to earn some pennies!

msniw