Stand Up, Why don't you?

As infants, not that my personal memory stretches quite that far back, I believe we all had an inbuilt desire, calling or whatever to stand up. Perhaps it was a genetic throwback or merely the logic of watching those around us moving effortlessly in and out of our vision on two feet, while we remained static either on our backs or bottoms, wondering just how we might emulate their behaviour. After a few dry runs, much effort and an inate understanding of balance we sussed it out and were on our way, never to slip back to those days of cfdependence on others. A time when we could stand on our own two feet.

My sister says I should become a stand up comedian. She says I should find myself a location and just go for it. She wants me to set a date and make it happen. She has every faith that I can deliver the goods. For me it's back those infant days. Yes, I've watched most comedians and performers over the last forty years from Morecombe and Wise to Frankie Boyle, thinking "they are so cool. I'd like to do that" At boarding school I performed with the lads in a school revue where I had to deliver my lines dressed as one of the school's two on site nuns. The performance was legendary and is still talked about......by me. Indeed I used to have a joke repotoire that would embarass Bob Monkhouse, but could I deliver a stand up routine that would make an audience laugh? It's something I shall ponder over the coming days. Let me start my possible routine with you and see what you think. Here goes. Good evening ladies and gentlemen Did you hear the one about the man who made his car engine out of wood....It wouldn't go.....well it's a possible starting point

It's been a busy week or two since we put digital print to screen, or pen to paper, as they would say in the olden times. Most memorably I have been in awe of more than one hundred people from all over Fermanagh and Tyrone who congregated at the Bawnacre Centre in Irvinestown for a 24 hour Cancer Research Relay for Life day at the weekend. It began on Friday last at 7pm , included a beautiful candle lighting memorial ceremony for those who had passed on through cancer and more memorably those who had survived the rigours and uncertainty of the disease in it's numerous forms. 8 or 9 groups from Ballygalley, Ballinamallard, Dromore and Irvinestown have been organising events and collections over the last few months, focusing on the 24 hour event. Many camped overnight at the site, choosing to walk on a special constructed walking track, others chatting into the less than small hours. Not I. It's beauty sleep I need and crave and they thoughtfully provided me with bed and board in the nearby Mahon's hotel. Next morning, Saturday at 10 30 the whole place was buzzing again with 30 or 40 8 and 9 year olds playing football. This was followed by a Games hour for the adult teams, involving olympic type sports like the beanbag on a bat race, or the sack race, this time with three or more team members in the one sack. The afternoon continued with performances by some of the younger folk dancing and singing. The not so far away St Patrick's Pipe Band from Drumquin performed musically, one or two later joining those who had their legs and chests waxed on stage. The whole event was brought to a climactic conclusion when a fine car was given away in a raffle prize to a very happy lady from Lisnarick. The event had been organised by local lady Beulah Irvine and her hard working commitee who with the various groups , managed to raise a staggering £73,000. More it would appear is to follow. Pretty impresive, I have to say. The whole event was graced by the best weather all year, which I must also thank for my rosy complection. Most accuretly for the rosy hue that emenates from my cranium....deep sunburn to those who can't read between the llines

So, back to the stand up......What do you call a dog with no ears.....anything you like,....he won't hear you

It begins again

...as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. The idea of a blog is wonderful, the willful continuence of one an entirely different matter. Ignoring the much paved road of good intention below me, I've once again taken on the challenge to write a regular blog. Like all things organic, lets see where it takes me on it's latest encounter

I live in the South Down village of Rostrevor on the shores of Carlingford Lough. To say it is a beautiful place is like saying Helen of Troy was a bit of a looker. Like most small villages or places, that beauty is often missed by many of the the people who were born here, who go about their daily lives, not noticing the ever changing colours of the sky against sea, the ever rising lush backdrop of Slieve Martin ushering would be walkers to the southernmost delights of the majestic Mourne Mountains, and a hundred other beautiful gifts of nature that adorn the area. To be fair, they probably do. It just seems that a visitor or blow in like me has a keener eye for what's been under their noses forever. Perhaps it's the beauty of the area that gives them some sort of serenity from living in such a place. It certainly does for me

For those who have never ventured this way, let me make you aware of a wonderful festival that brings many from around the world here in mid July. The Fiddler's Green Festival celebrates a nearby beauty spot and it's musical heritage with a week of activities that this year includes performances from the legendary songwriter and performer Tom Paxton. It offers daytime walks and talks and a host of other activities, with an outdoor performance stage in the centre of the village. If your hear during the week, do drop in for a cup of tea.

It's been a busy two weeks for me, between working on various projects. I have almost finished filming for a documentary on Killowen School which celebrates 100 years. On saturday, I was part of and an attendee at Craigavon Bizcamp at the C.I.D.O. Centre. Sixty enthusiastic networkers in one building for over 8 hours provided enough "business adrenaline" to power the economic recovery of Greece. By Wednesday, I'll be posting the video insight to what happened. Tonight I visit the local drama group in Rostrevor with the intention of filming their soon to be performed production, "The Wedding", which takes place in St Bronagh's Hall on Friday, Saturday and Sunday evening, broken legs allowing.

Thanks for your attention for my reemergence as a blogging force. Like me, I hope you're already looking forward to the next edition