No Surprises Living in Devizes 2

The model of all which is traditional about our humble town enveloped in one fantastic Gazette article this week; Basil Brush was found safe. Scholar’s archaic charity collection box in the shape of the popular TV character Basil Brush, which most modern youngsters would have to Google, was found in St Mary’s churchyard. All I can say is those fox hunters really took things too far this time.

Whoahh there Worrow, try to be nice, it is, after all this causerie’s first birthday, which is why I’ve made little effort to write this one; I’m busy blowing up balloons and cutting cheese sandwiches into triangles. You have my phone to thank for the pit-stop, reminding me that it’s been a whole, long drawn out year since I began writing my regular column No Surprises Living in Devizes.

Twas 9th Feb 2016, I don’t know what came over me as I checked Facebook before my mid-morning nap; hard life I know. Saw this news post from a site I’d not heard of before. I quickly despatched a message to them, without any real thought as to the implications of my actions.

Forward wind a year and No Surprises Living in Devizes has become a bit of a thing, the best description I can come up with. Every Sunday a new episode goes live like the unleashing of a crazed dragon on steroids. I face a plethora of responses and feedback; some are nice.

Yeah it’s satire, something which soars over the heads of some like a B52. Yeah it’s a rant, playing a character more left wing then Jeremey Corbyn’s vest in a preponderance of conservative snobbery, and yeah, it’s very design is to turn your stomach after resting off your Sunday roast. But hey, I try to be pleasant. I said try.

There’s brute honesty in the causerie journalism doesn’t usually convey in this day and age. This stems from the fact I’m not a journalist, I’m just the milkman; tell your mum I said hi. It also, as mentioned at the beginning, brings a straightforward view on life in our traditional market town, with wonky edges.

Here’s a thing I quickly learned, it’s impossible to find a weekly subject to rant about Devizes every week and if there is one surprise in Devize; it be art it be a proper gurt lush place and I’m gandeflanking yer shagger. So I set about ensuring all the good things about this town, and all the good people which organise them are fairly mentioned and highlighted.

But in the beginning I didn’t know where it would take me. That moment of lunacy is why we are here today, all I can do is apologise for unleashing such a thing, but I know the odd word or two has amused the few and therefore I cordially invite you, yes you, to pop over to the online event page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/events/1912883465607970/ over the weekend and stress your abhorrence of my distasteful musing. It’s a gate-crashing free zone; parents are out so bring your latest Kajagoogoo long-player and invite your friends, family and anyone else you loath.

Like most things these days there’s a catch; although I promise balloons it’s less party and more shameless promotion for the new book of the same name. Yep, I’ve bunged all the weekly columns over the past year into one bumper fun annual for your reading displeasure. What a rip off, I know, but it does have an interactive contents page which took me longer to work out how to produce than it did to write it, and alas, now you can recap on a year of me whinging on and generally being annoying.

I recommend you get comfy, maybe with a strong tipple, download the eBook: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06X9MQ38J/ and recap on all the wonderful escapades (did I say wonderful? Sorry, woeful) we’ve been through together. Then next week I promise we will continue.

There’s more on the youth of today theme to be said, which never grows tiresome (does it?) as during this week’s storm Doris, Facebook group Devizes Issue received a comment congratulating Devizes School kids who were spotted picking up recycling spoiled from a windswept bin; this is just the kind of thing I was waffling on about, kids rock, and where we’ll pick up again next week; hopefully rapping with the Wiltshire Assembly of Youth and UK Youth Parliament.

But I’d like to finish today’s if I may, by thanking all the wonderful people I’ve met during this venture in pathetic drivel. I could not have messed it up this badly without you; see you at the party, I’ve washed my mankini and put on some slap especially.

2.

The Killertones take Devizes

Small town live music scenes rarely take shape, but Devizes surprises with a sundry of settings and melodies. However, breaking the mould the newly-renovated Devizes Scooter Club annexed the Conservative Club on a drizzly Saturday in February for an alternative mashup of ska and soul.

Despite rational anxiety for their opening live reservation in the hefty venue, rudies and soul-boys of Devizes dusted off glad-rags and congregated, while DJ Shaun Smitherman expertly eased them in with a set of classic Motown. Now, in an ambience of anticipation, dancers held out for the band, inviting Swindon-based The Killertones proved a very wise move.

Prompt and eager The Killertones bounced on stage and threw Herbie Hancock’s Watermelon Man at us in a style akin to Baba Brooks; it was love at first sound. What followed was a continuous hodgepodge between time-honoured two-tone anthems, reggae-pop hits glazed in brass up-tempo ska goodness, and general Dexys danceable numbers.

From The Specials to Bad Manners, and Madness to The Beat, the Killertones covered them all with a natural ease and gratification; a pleasurable manifestation as we bobbed like buoys on a tempestuous ocean. They blazed Red, Red Wine with the original rock steady flair of Tony Tribe’s version, for example, but I found their upbeat version of KC White’s No, No, No, the most adroit.

In a sizzling frenzy, The Killertones rocked till all dropped, savouring the mood and responding with flabbergasted praise for the small town’s exertions. There was never a sense of shameless self-promotion. The band threw no homemade songs at us, never pushed us their CD, or cornered a table for merchandising; they came wholly to entertain and Devizes felt truly blessed and appreciative.

Scooter Club organisers Adam Ford and Lauren Gibbs commended the performance. They’re a great bunch and I hope they’ll return to our sleepy town, said Lauren, because they sure woke us up last night! She continued to dish out her admiration for DJ Shaun, who fitted in perfectly at last minute request and polished the finale off with some smooth reggae classics.

If there ever was a Devizes skank, I think I’ve found it.

3.

Teenage Rampage or Wiltshire Youth Assembly

Aw my gawd, Nan howled, Reg; come an ‘ave a butcher’s at this!

I recall my Grandad sauntering into the front room as ordered, tea towel in hand. He examined the content on television and stood aghast in the doorway. This man had voyaged from Cairo through Tripoli across the Sahara Desert, returned to cross Italy into Austria to tidy the end of a brutal war; still he stared at the TV as if this was the most shocking thing he’d ever seen.

My brother and I protested. Boy George continued to sing Karma Chameleon, on Top of the Pops while my Grandad huffed, Is it a boy or a girl? They had adapted to moving images as well as sound in the living room, like going to the pictures; they couldn’t hope to understand the stuff they put on it.

For our parents who just remembered an era when they didn’t have one, the television was a viewed as a threat, stopping youth undergoing outside activities and filth causing a teenage rampage, men wearing women’s clothes just one; still they sat and watched it every evening like some obligatory new-fangled amusement.

For us TV was there and always had been. We could take it or leave it; we still went outside to play. For them it was a lame excuse to criticise the youth of today. They actually sat and watched Mary Whitehouse whinging about the content of TV, on their TV, as well as Dick Emery. If that’s hypocritical we follow their example and tut whenever we consider how much time kids these days spend online, and spread it across social media.

Kids will be kids; they’re no different now, only they have the Facebook police scoring points on every move they make. They view the internet as we did television, it’s always been in their lives, they take it, use it when needed and leave it when there are other activities to do. While forty-somethings treat it like a magical realm, because it’s new we worship it.

A couple of months ago the viral image of children under Rembrandt’s ‘The Night Watch’ spread like wildfire across social media, shared by whinging oldies. Disgraced that the teenagers were all ignoring the masterpiece to play on their smart phones, it was backed up with all kinds of critical captions condemning youth, labelling it a metaphor for our age.

And I agree it’s a perfect metaphor for our age, illustrating how hypocritical adults are. Because the truth behind the image is the children were studying information on the painting via an app on their phones, supplied by the gallery, and moments earlier another photo was taken, but rarely shared, of all the children captivated by Rembrandt’s masterpiece.

Takes me to the last, hopefully, of my ongoing rant, covering where one teenager’s step out of line sees a plethora of heated disparagements about an entire generation when really we need to dismount our hypocritical high horse and admit this era is no different from previous ones. There’s a few trouble-makers but mostly the youth are switched on and actively doing good; even politically to my surprise.

I think politicians and Lords should be forced to withdraw at footballer’s retirement age. Maybe have the House of Lords made up with a conglomerate of Little Mix and Tinie Tempah, or Devizes own teen boyband 98 Reasons. Honestly, they couldn’t physically make it any worse if they wanted to.

But musicians don’t do politically revolutionary stuff anymore; imagine Katy Perry covering Blowin’ in the Wind, it’d be about short skirts. So I was interested to hear from Freya Pigott about the Wiltshire Assembly of Youth and the UK Youth Parliament; some youngsters are into politics and they’re a zillion quintillion times smarter than us.

The Wiltshire Assembly of Youth is made up of elected members from across the county, aged 11-18.

Meeting monthly in three areas of Wiltshire, they invite young people to have their say. I wanted to ask if there’s a balance of political opinion in the group. We’re apolitical, and keep party politics out of it, Freya enlightened, but we find ourselves conflicting with Wiltshire Council, as we often stand up against cuts to public transport and youth services, while calling for more funding for mental health services.

So, do they discuss local topics, national, or take on the world? WAY only deals with local issues on a county-level, she continued, however UK Youth Parliament deals with youth issues on a national level, and the issues on the two levels are often very similar. The opportunities WAY give young people mean that our members are more than ready to take on the world!

I asked Freya if they only debated or if they lobby parliament too? We debate on priority issues and take that further, be it campaigning local councils or encouraging schools to act. UKYP have a select committee in parliament every year on their priority topic, which creates a report given to government, for them to act upon.

I fired my burning question; if the referendum vote was given to under 18s, do you think it would have a different outcome? "Both WAY and UKYP champion votes at 16; the turnout from the Scottish Referendum was incredible, and it’s heart-breaking to think so many important voices go unheard due to age, especially when it’s them who will live through the consequences. Who’s to say with the EU referendum? I was 17 at the time of the vote, but will be 19 in August. It’s so