Not a fan of Dorothy

We went to see “The End Of The Rainbow” in Bath on Saturday. It’s a play with songs about Judy Garland’s final performances in London shortly before she died at the age of 47. It was a big hit in London, garnering huge plaudits for Tracie Bennett as Garland. I’m not about to write a review. I’m also decidedly not a Garland fan, but I could recognise that Bennett’s impersonation of her was impeccable and sensational, and she certainly ripped up the stage. She was extraordinary. And yet I found the whole experience curiously unpalatable, like watching a car crash in slow motion.

Aled The Ashtray

Despite being a non-smoker, I own an ashtray that’s made from a piece of granite from the old London Bridge. And it’s just like Aled Jones.
No, I don’t mean that Ex Boy Soprano and TV’s “Cash In The Attic” Presenter Aled Jones has carved out a career as an object without any practical use; that he’s a crumbling fragment of his past and he’s living off his former glory. I wouldn’t do a thing like that. Uh huh. No way. Tsk.
I should explain.

Hardy’s dog

Thomas Hardy lived outside Dorchester in a house called Max Gate. He often entertained famous guests to lunch, many of whom were surprised to see the great author share his meal with his pets. Most notable of his animals was his terrier Wessex who would climb on the lunch table and snatch food from visitors. He was also famously vicious and bit many of the most celebrated people of the age. Wessex is buried in the garden of the house, which is where I caught up with him just a couple of weeks ago.