Does "the council" read Tonbridge blog?...

Coincidence it may be but credit where it's due. The weedy excuses have stopped and the weeds beneath the trees at the corner of Bank Street and High Street have been dug up. Only three days after Tonbridge blog launched its mini-campaign for better coordination between "the councils." Please don't stop there though council: can we now have street lamps that actually light up at night (there are around half a dozen out in the N end of the High Street) buildings that have been boarded up for more than a year compulsorily purchased or at least extreme pressure put on the owners to do something with them, and while we're about it car park stickers which stick to the wind screen instead of flimsy things which blow off the dash board onto the floor resulting in unjust fines for unsuspecting motorists.Better still let's get rid of Traffic Wardens- sorry "Parking Attendants" sorry " Civil Enforcement Officers" altogether (OK that's not going to happen is it!) Any other suggestions?....

Really weedy excuses....

Now I'm no gardener or tree expert but I'd hazard a guess that a jungle of weeds growing around the roots of a young whip would not do much to enhance growth! The trees on the corner of Bank Street and the High Street are a disgrace. There can be no doubting that. They don't look nice, in fact they look terrible. Worse though is that they typify what's wrong with "the council." Tonbridge blog has highlighted this problem before and the main problem seems to be that there is no "the council." What we have is a clutch of departments, leisure, conservation area buildings, planning, engineering, safety etc etc. You would have thought that you'd be able to, with a few phone calls, identify which of these departments would be responsible for a couple of trees in hideous containers which were put there to replace two perfectly sound mature trees which were there before these pathetic specimens appeared. But oh no! because, apparently, trees on the pavement and especially if they are moveable pieces of "street furniture" fall into Highways Department's juristriction and guess what? That isn't even anything to do with good old Tonbridge and Malling Borough Council; that down to KCC. That is to say Kent County Council. Just like schools, libraries and roads, this is someone else's fault and definitely not TMBC's. Good so what happens now that we know who's fault they are? The trees at the corner of Bank Street, I'm convinced are really just the tip of a very large ice berg, the fact that they haven't been weeded for a year, when they badly need it, is for me a minor annoyance. The reasons behind why they haven't I find intensely irritating. If we want to be taken seriously as a tourist town, or town in which we're proud to live and work, we ought to be able to sort out a couple of trees without all these weedy excuses....

Curved balls....

"Good wood 'arry!" "Your end Pete!" These were some of the cries I remember being shouted as a lad as I caught a glimpse of the world of bowls over the fence at my local park. No not bowling. Bowls. Proper bowls, not the American ten pin variety which most youngsters now play with such enthusiasm. The type you do on a green which has been kept like a snooker baize, by a faithful semi-retired groundsman, so that old men and ladies can skilfully curve their woods into the jack (small white ball) Well why should it be just for oldies when actually its an immensely enjoyable and skilful game and can be highly competitive, but is usually wonderfully gentle. Most importantly of all, it gets you out the house and into the great outdoors. In fact I remember playing the game as a ten or eleven year old with other kids from my neighbourhood; I grew up in a seaside resort right near some beautifully kept greens. I wouldn't say that I'd become an expert but was able to play with a degree of competence; anyway life took over and I can't remember playing for at least twenty years. Tonbridge Bowls club, who are based at Tonbridge Farm, and have a history going back to 1906, is keen to encourage more people to try out the sport, or is it a pastime, or is it a game (who cares it's good fun and moderately energetic) and why shouldn't you. They have "roll ups" on Thursday evenings throughout the Summer, I think that means try-out sessions rather than sitting on the side lines rolling tobacco into cigarette papers (although I dare say some members do that as well!). Check out the club's web site for more details. Now do any other clubs want a free advert before Tonbridge blog starts charging for them?...

Catch Hay fever....

Hay on Wye Literary Festival is on right now until Sunday or Monday so if you fancy overdosing on culture then get yourself over there now. I believe they have over 500 authors, from every corner of the world, booked to appear. Everywhere you look, in the marquees, restaurants, cafes and in the town itself, there's a famous actor, poet, commedian or writer. Oh and there are 40 secondgand bookshops there as well! It really is heaven on earth if you like that sort of thing. Unfortunately I can't make it there this year for various reasons I won't go into, so that's one less person to compete with as far as accomodation goes. Be prepared to rough it in the car if necessary, but even then it would be worth the trip, I promise you....

Odd mods clash with Rockers in Tonbridge High Street....

This was the scene last Sunday when the Old Bill were forced to intervene as the aptly-named Odd Mod Squad clashed with a gang of Rockers outside Retro 66 Barbers in Tonbridge High Street last Sunday in a flashback to the 1960s violent altercations along Brighton Seafront! Or at least you would have been forgiven for thinking that. Actually what happened was that motorists passing by couldn't help stopping to view some of the lovelist pieces of tin this side of Turin which had gathered for a scooter club outing. Traffic was held up for all of two minutes, which apparently caused an "angry" motorist to nearly lose himself with road rage and call the police. (Obviously this guy had listened to Teddy Boy Rock n Roll bands and not The Who and the Small Faces in his youth!) The close circuit, Big Brother, cameras picked them up and the boys in blue were there in the time it takes to pull on a parka coat with a target on the back and adjust your spare wing mirror. Despite the slight hold up of traffic there was, I'm told, good humour all around as the scooter club were given ten minutes "to disappear", which they eventually did; but only round the corner as far as the Ivy House beer garden. There is no truth in the rumour that one of the police officers was heard to remark, in echoes of the film Quadraphenia, "What's wrong 'as yer mavva's 'airdrier broken daan?" The scooter nutters actually have a great web site if you want to see more piccies and stuff....

Angel of the South....

Peter York, the retiring Chairman of the Tonbridge Civic Society was presented with this beautiful sculpture by Ev Meynell at the society’s AGM earlier this week. One wit at the meeting remarked that it looks like a mini Angel of the South! Quite appropriate really being as we were in the Angel Centre at the time. Tonbridge blog thought that in actual fact the piece was far more beautiful and subtle than that; in fact I want one as well! Maybe I'll have to become Chairman in a couple of years after the new man, Peter Charlton, has become bored of it. If I serve for maybe fifteen years or so (instead of Mr. York's 33!) then just maybe they'll award me with something similar. Although knowing my luck they'll probably raise about enough to buy a candelabra from Wax Lyrical!...

Life begins at Forty (six)....

The FORTY SIX steps
Forty six ways to lose your lover
Forty six steps beyond
46 deadly sins
46 Pillars of Wisdom
Only, 46 hours to....
What a Difference a Day Makes....46 little hours
46 Below Zero
The Secret of Life the Universe and Everything (Number 46)
Joe 46
Space 1946
Blakes 46
46 Men in a Boat
The 46th Lamentation by William Brodrick
1446 by Gavin Menzies
Plead the 46th Amendment
46 Fahrenheit
Biggles of the 46th Squadron
46th Night (Shakespeare)
46 Charing Cross Road
1046 And all that!
The 46th Parallel
2046 Space Odyssey
46 Nights With You (Elvis Presley)
1946 By George Orwell
1946 By James Blunt
Now there are 46 Steps to Heaven
Clickety Click 46 (Bingo Call)
46th Heaven
Five...46 Pick up sticks, seven eight open the gate....
World War II 1939-1946
The Arab Israeli conflict (Palestine 1946)
Revolution #46 by The Beatles
Booby Moore, Bobby Charlton lift the World Cup, 1946
Fortysextraphenia by The Who
The 46 Seas of Rye
2 4 46 8, Never Too Late (Tom Whatisface)
Number 46 Downing Street (Prime Minister)
Number 46 Downing Street (Chancellor of the Exchequer)
46 Bank Street (Mr. Books Bookshop)
XXXXIV
The Hollow by Agatha Christie (Published in1946)
Crime in Cabin 46 also by Agatha Christie (Also published in 1946
1962 (46 Years ago)
46 Red Balloons Go By
Life begins at Forty (six)... not that I'm obsessed with the number 46 this week or anything....

The Bluewater birthday blues....

Blue skies yesterday morning, it's my day off, it's nearly my birthday so what better day for a trip to Bluewater shopping centre. I allowed myself five hours to basically have a good browse and buy a few essential things. I wanted a decent pair of what I would call summer-weight jeans. I like wearing jeans and I don't spend money on suits, shirts and ties anymore so I thought maybe Hugo Boss or Ted Baker, Diesel something a bit nicer to wear than Gap or the usual predictable Levi's. Now I thought that being a 38 waist and 32 leg wouldn't be too difficult a thing to obtain in a place the size of Bluewater. I went in the Boss shop first only to be served by an incredibly gay guy of a simlar age to me; now I'm no homophobe but the idea of taking off my trousers several times within a few inches of this man who referred to me, old school-style, as "the gentleman" did worry me slightly I have to admit and it did remind me rather of those characters in the Fast Show with the catch phrase "Ooh, Suits you sir!", then I went in House of Fraser, on to the Ted Baker shop, River Island, Diesel, French Connection, the new Bench store, yes and I even tried Gap and Marks and Spencer in desperation. I reminded myself of my parents who refused to go in those fashion shops which played loud music as I strained to hear the sales assistants as they advised me to "try on a pair of thirty sixes mate, they come up big sometimes..." I actually walked out of one shop, because I just couldn't stand the thumping beat, imagining my mother's "turn that racket down" ringing in my ears. By 1 o' clock I was getting worried. I'd had no lunch, I had nothing to show for my three hours of trundling around the giant two-level triangle. I must have been in thirty shops, looked at 400 pairs of jeans only to discover that I was a freak and that I should be a size 32/34 if I wanted the proper stuff to fit. I couldn't even find a decent sports shop that sold a running vest that would A fit and B not cost over £30 and C didn't have a Nike trade-marked swoosh on it. (How is it possible to trade mark a tick anyway?!) I decided that I have to get down to at least a 36/32 in time for my next Bluewater trip if I'm to stand any chance of getting those jeans before the end of the summer, either that or go back in time 15 (oh alright 20) years. There I was with about £200 burning a hole in my pocket, desparate to be spent, I wanted to give it to a grateful shop assistant and be pleased with the goods I'd handed over the cash for; but by 2-15 I just knew that it was going to be my unlucky day. On my way out via John Lewis I panicked and bought some pasta bowls just to have something to show for my half a day shopping trip. (Actually they were very good value at twenty quid for a set of four plus a large serving bowl and I did sort of need them.) I had to be back in Tonbridge by 3-30 and had no time to loose, so off I went to the car park, carrying my pasta bowl set, feeling every one of my forty six years, feeling frustrated and annoyed that the mighty Bluewater couldn't satisfy my urge to spend some hard earned lolly....

A Mark-shaped hole in the Universe....

I'm reading The God of Small Things, by Arundhati Roy at the moment and I wouldn't say that so far (p.119) that its the best book I've ever read; but there was a nice image painted on one page I've just read. It refers to Joe having been killed in a car crash and that there is now "....a Joe-shaped hole in the Universe...." Without wishing to be preachy, or morbid or anything like that I wondered for a moment if there'd be a Me-shaped hole in the Universe when I'm gone. Maybe in the shape of an old book or something! Probably not. Just a thought, what are we all here for and all that?....

A Life of Rhyme....

I read a really uplifting poetry book this morning given to me by a guy who wandered into my shop to see if I'd take them on sale or return. I get quite a few of these requests and not all of them are up to much. I liked this one though; A Life of Rhyme, by Neal Towner, is essentially a life story in brief and in rhyme. It begins by talking about a baby having his nappy changed and swifting moves through early childhood, schooldays, youth, first lads holiday, meeting the girl, getting married, having kids, getting stressed out, kids growing up, moving to a cottage in the country and present day (sound familiar?) Much of it is fairly frivolous, funny and uplifting and also there is some quite moving and deeper stuff mixed in. I liked it, so thanks Neal if you are out there (although he's probably not cos he said that he didn't have the internet, which is probably why he has the time to write poems instead of, like the rest of us becoming obsessed and consumed by this electric box which is slowly taking over out lives!) Anyway don't be tight, help a struggling, aspiring local poet and buy a copy. It probably took Mr. Towner a lifetime to think about, mull over and eventually commit to pen and paper, considerable time and expense to get it published and printed, time and effort to distribute the thing to retailers (who will only take it on sale or return) and all you have to do is walk into a bookshop, mine preferably, and fork out £5.95....

Roll on Summer....

Cheer up, I know it's raining and a whole 13 degrees c colder than the same time last week (according to the weatherman on last night's news. But we're still here, still alive and (most of us) well. Summer holidays are almost upon us, bright skies, clear blue seas, ships going to exotic destinations floating by in the distance; ah yes Cleethorpes again this year!...

Scooters to invade Tonbridge High Street....

Watch out for an invasion of 1960s Lambrettas and Vespa scooters this weekend as scooter clubs descend on Tonbridge High Street. The event, if you can call it an event, it certainly looks set to be eventful, has been arranged by Retro 66 barbers, who have a Vespa in their window, which attracted one of the club members in to have his barnet chopped (1960s style of course!) Let's hope that the Rockers don't get wind of it otherwise we could have Brighton 1967 on our hands all over again. Running battles between Mods and Rockers down the street, on the sea front, scuffles with the law, ice cream, getting hit over the head with a bike chain, Quadrophenia, a knee trembler with a young and attractive Lesley Ash down an alley way just away from the violent scenes developing nearby as the Ace Face (Sting) gets thrown into the back of a Black Maria....Marvelous days I hear some of you quietly saying to yourselves!

Out of the Dark Ages....

The Tonbridge Historical Society website is worth a gander; I'm not sure how long it's been around, whether it's fairly new, or, God forbid, did I miss it? There seem to be some good piccies of the town as well as some good stuff about its history of the town and it's people and businesses. I would say from the fact that the site's Tonbridge People page contains only 3 entries suggests that it is still in the early stages of being built because I'm pretty sure that there are at least twenty fairly famous folk with links to the town. The Jane Austen one seems to be a little tenuous since, as they state on the site, there is no evidence whatsoever that she ever actually came here, despite having relatives from the area. Anyway it's good to see that the society, which, maybe understandably, has a rather crusty and fuddy duddy image, has finally wrenched itself out of the Dark Ages and into the Twenty First Century....

Twenty times a day for Twenty Years!...

One of the highlights of the Tonbridge Garden and Home Show at the weekend, especially if, like me, you're not that much into bedding plants and shrubs, was the demonstration of a food blender. Don't mock, yes you had to be there to appreciate what I'm talking about, but it was quite a performance by the young(ish) couple from the American company. The lady demonstrator could have, and probably is, on one of those dreadful shopping channels where they mix a great patter with subtle and sometimes damned right blantant sales messages. She made fantastic juice mixes, wonderful hot soup, refreshing smoothies, and ice cold ice cream all from lovely fresh ingredients, including the stalks of grapes (full of nutrients we normally disgard) she used the core of pinapples (full of antioxidants or something) and even put some carrot and cabbage (yes really) into the ice cream (more goodness) Everything was so mushed up in the end all that was left were very subtle tastes and none of the texture that would put you off eating it. I marvelled at their salesmanship, although did sense a little that they were doing the demo for the 100th time that day (and they probably were) I wanted one of these machines by the end of the demo, I wanted to enjoy the simplicity of this light commercial quality supa duper blender, mixers, maker of lovely drinks. I wanted to take advantage of its "one second clean" switch, I wanted its ability to be used "twenty times a day for twenty years" (although curiously they only offered a five year guarantee!) I was impressed and would have had one, it should have been mine but oh yeah, did I forget to mention the price? £450 in crome finish (only available at the show) £399 in black or red, £379 special show price in white. I saw at least three people actually buying one but I think I'll stick to the odd Innocent Smoothy treat for now but thanks for the free samples and the very entertaining demo....

Who'd be a bookseller....

Well I hope you all enjoyed the sunshine over the bank hoiliday weekend. On Saturday I was stuck in my bookshop all day, and on Sunday I had, in a mad moment agreed to do the Tonbridge Garden and Home Show. When I say do, what I mean is, I'd booked a table at the event; this was an experiment and one which was going to cost me my Sunday off (for the second week in a row) and the not inconsiderable sum of £61.10, being the fee for stall for one day and the hire of a tressle table. I did get some valueable advertising to an audience which I would estimate to have been around 1,500 people. Alot more than the average book fair, but nowhere near the 16,000 across three days which the organisers claim on their web site. They let me put my board up on the Saturday and my delivery bike with its advertising sign near the entrance. I put a great deal of thought into what books to take: gardening (well duh!) also craft, woodwork, country pursuits, natural history, art, birds, butterflies; right down to which ladybird childrens books such as Mr. Pepper and Mr. Peach. I was given quite a big pitch, bigger than I'm used to at book fairs, but hey it was outside (well in a marquee actually) I took aprox 500 books with me. I had to consider the logistics of getting books across a soggy field (no cars were allowed on the site itself due to the rain in previous weeks) and also of preventing the heavy book shelves sinking into the mug. I managed all this and feeling rather pleased with myself was ready to start trading by the opening time of 9-30am. I managed to sell only 24 books to a total value of £93. The quick witted among you will say that that's not worth a days work, especially if you consider the cost of the pitch, petrol getting there, lunch and drinks. In fact my son (who was helping me) ended up with more than I did, which wasn't that difficult. But I did make many contacts which may lead to future sales, I may even have made a few friends amongst the other traders which can't be that bad either. It's hard to put a price on advertising and good will but that must have been worth half the stall fee at least. Will I do it again next year? Probably unless I need a day off more than I need to earn ten quid....

We must stop meeting like this....

Sorry for name dropping but I've just bumped into the Mayor Anne Kemp and her (Consort) husband. Recently it was at the Civic Soc. Awards Dinner and just now at the Tonbridge Garden Show on the park. I think she was there to officially open the event not just to buy a few shrubs like the rest of us. Anyway this year there'll be a special reason to visit the show (on Sunday at any rate) I'll be there. Stand M39 if you want to buy a gardening book, or craft book, or local history book, or show jumping book.... what books should you take to a Garden and home show anyway, I'm used to book fairs. I hope my book shelves don't sink into the mud too early in the day!...

Aufweidesen pet....

As mentioned in a previous posting I had a German boy "Tino" staying with my family this week as part one of my son's school exchange visit. (or should that be sons, or sons' see apostrophe postings) It's been interesting but to be honest I've hardly seen him. The German group have been off to London (twice), Brighton, The Pantiles, I think they spent one half day in lessons. Sounds like a complete jolly to me! We did have a sunny day earlier in the week when we played basketball, juggling and football in my back garden. Tino it seems is an exceptionally good footballer, in fact I think he said that he was transferred for a fee to another club near his home town and trains 4 times a week! Do we do that here with 15 year olds? His party trick was ball juggling, ending up with the ball perched on the back of his neck and then, get this, he removed his T shirt completely whilst keeping the ball balanced on his neck. I was impressed anyway! I think I'll stick to watching it on the telly. This session did end up with a 'friendly' game in the garden my son and Tino versus my daughter and me, with a very small goal to make up for the lack of space in the garden, calling for some really good close control, which neither my daughter or myself had. We played that for a bit, and then Tino suggested that it should be him versus my family, in other words, 3 against one, although, it has to be said, my daughter was keener on playing on the climbing frame! He seemed confident as he went one nil up in the match which he'd called as the first to three. Then, I'm sorry for sharing this with you in a way, I'm almost ashamed to admit it but the competitive instincts kicked in, and 1966 and all that sprang to mind as I stepped up to the challenge. It had become England vs Germany! I couldn't help myself. England we managed a 3:2 victory (shame it couldn't have been 4:2 I hear some of you say. Geoff Hurst would have been proud of us!) I swear that Tino, a really lovely polite lad, went into a bit of a sulk after that; me raising my arms in victory maybe was a little over the top I'll grant you. Then last night we planned a farewell supper for him, but since I had to be somewhere at 8pm the lads were under strict instructions to be back early so that we could all eat together. The call came at around 6 that they had just arrived at the bowling alley and were just about to start a game! So that put paid to the farewell dinner. Tino threw his cloths around the room, left food in his draw, didn't unpack his bag all week, took ages in the bathroom in the morning, lounged around in bed at the weekend and do you know what I concluded by the end of the week? He's German yes, but above all else HE'S A TEENAGER just like my son. Anyway I saw him off this morning and I'll miss him, he's welcome to come back any time and he's promised to send me a ticket to the European Champions League final when he's playing for Bayern Munich or Man United in a few years time....

Who need's ones' apostrophes'....

After last nights' excellent episode of The Aprentice there'as been much debate today about the use of the good old a'postrophe. Apparently the use thereof is a'lot more flexible than you may 'of' thought! The debate on the programme was whether the new celebration day they'had created for unattached people should be Single's Day, Singles' Day, Singles Day of just avoid the problem altogether and call it Single Day. Then we are on to whether it's Mother's Day of Mothers' Day, whether its' a Visitors' Book you sign or a Visitors Book (no apostrophe) Should we care or should not we? As one bright spark on the Radio 5 Live phone in programme pointed out there isnot one on mobile phone text symbol menu's, so ther'fore it's' day's r doomed @ any r8! So s'' it!...

Paul Watson BAFTA winner of Tonbridge....

Excuse my ignorance but I knew very little of documentary film maker Paul Watson, let alone the fact that he lives in central Tonbridge. He's won a special award at this year's ceremony and, in the words of regular T blogger Mike, he is "The Father of Fly" (that's on the wall documentaries to the uninformed among you, me included!) Apparently he has been nominated at least 8 times in previous BAFTAs before eventually coming up trumps this year. I'm looking forward to meeting him at tonight's POETRY AT THE IVY; perhaps he's written one or two verses about his experiences with The Family back in the 1970s. If not he can just nip in for a pint or two and listen to me babble on....

Judging a book by its cover....

Yesterday I was robbed in broad daylight! Literally because they were books and also literally cos it was daytime. It's so obvious after the event when you think back on it; two middle aged men came in one asked for philosphy books, while the other went straight to the back of the shop to eye up the children's books. The first man, who looked too simple and badly dressed, to be asking for the philosophy section came to pay for two books (value aprox. £15) with a credit card which didn't work, thereby distracting me from his accomplice; he'd chosen them too quickly as well so I sensed that something was wrong. My suspicions, having been aroused, meant that I was trying to keep an eye on the tea leaving scally at the back while he, as I found out later was trousering (actually bagging and coating) several Billy Bunter Annuals (aprox value £100) While I'm being distracted by the man trying to pay the scally walks out in a bit of a hurry and pays for one of the Billy Bunter annuals, presumeably to throw me off the scent. I think I noticed that his bag looked a little heavy, but could swear that it wasn't when he walked in. Half an hour late the penny drops and I look at the shelf of Billy Bunters with a large gap missing. Tea leaves long gone off to their secret hideaway to devide up their booty! Or at least that's what I thought had happened until this morning when the man who'd tried to pay on his card and asked me to keep the two books for him turned up, with cash this time, to pay for his books. Such was my surprise to see him that I couldn't help myself, I stopped short of violence or even actually accusing him of the crime, but I did ask him if he was with another man yesterday and implied that it was a huge coincidence that the books were going missing at that exact time. I have to admit that it wouldn't have made any sense for him to come back for his books (unless he's a philosophical cleptomaniac or something) and he did stay awhile and bought two more books also. He made a sort of feeble, I've been hurt, joke as he opened his carrier bag to show that he wasn't hiding anything! I've learnt a valuable lesson from this: you just never can jump to conclusions, no matter what someone looks like, or sounds like, or however obvious something looks. Dare I say it, I really will from now on never judge a book by it's cover....

Go on Go on Go ON....

Taking lunch with the vicar was a first for me yesterday. It wasn't just me and him, I'm not that important and as far as I know I haven't done anything too damning recently; no it was myself and a mixture of teachers from local schools, local business people and some of the church wardens and staff. The Rev. Mark Brown is the new(ish) vicar of the Parish of St. Peter and St. Paul, in other words the parish church. What I didn't know, but as of yesterday do now, is that Rev. Brown also looks after three other churches in the same parish, St Saviours, I knew about, Christ Church on the High Street and also one I didn't even know was there, St. Philip's (I think) out at Cage Green. It was quite odd and a little awkward at first, like all of these gatherings can be, but I decided that there was no harm in mingling and just being myself; a couple of glasses of lovely Gallo red wine helped to mellow me out a little (which I needed as I had just left a plummer at my house and only half an hour before there had been water spurting from the hot water tank as we frantically cleared the under-sink cupboard to turn off the stop cock! That's another story though.) The buffet was excellent: lots of mini quishes, small two-bite sized sandwiches with a whole range of fillings all with crusts cut off, vol au vent thingies, and of course cakes, buns and more cakes. We were asked to sit down and listen to a short sermon speech from the vicar and I must admit that I was thinking at this point "here we go, we've all got to come to church or we're going straight to hell..." but not a bit of it. He was friendly, asking us to join in wherever we could, offering his services to school assemblies, informing us about the new look Contact (church) magazine and most importantly of all keeping it brief. In fact I got the impression that he is a genuinely nice man. I then mingled and chatted as the sandwiches were now brought to us on trays, I chatted to church committee members, (more sandwiches,) I chatted to the curate (would I like cake?) I chatted to Slades Head Teacher (go on you can have another piece of cake.) Go on, go on now! There was no way that any of that beautifully prepared buffet was going in the bin. Honestly it was just like Mrs. Doyle on Father Ted; in fact it was more like having four Mrs. Doyles all at once! You just daren't say no. A very entertaining and satisfying lunch time, I should do it more often....

Tonbridge Library Cafe....

There's a good comment on the Guardian web site today about how the British Library has become a trendy place to hang out and order a cappucino. Once the haunt of 'mad old women' and only very serious academic types the recently changed admissions policy has made it the undergraduate place to be. So much so that post graduates with real reasearch to do are finding it increasingly difficult to get a seat. Tonbridge blog wonders whether Kent County Council could do the same with Tonbridge Central Library. It already has computer terminals upstairs in the reference library, which always seems busy with students from West Kent College and elsewhere clicking and tapping away. (I remember when you could hear a pin drop in a library, instead of this racket!) There are cds and dvds for sale and for hire downstairs, they sell cards, keyrings and other gifts, there are even some books in there somewhere! So come on then KCC why not a little cafe to make it a trendy teenage hang out joint. It may stop a few of them from becoming hooked on alcopops and other intoxicating substances; they might even read a few books in between gigling and rabbiting on about who they fancy and which disco rave thingies are in at the moment, or how many aliens they've maimed playing Halo 3, or whether this Nokia has more mega pixels than that Sony Erickson (or whatever young folk talk about these days) Or should libraries just continue to be boring places to sit quietly sifting through old volumes of Charles Dickens?...

Willkommen zu Tonbridge und Tunbridge Wells....

This week I'm going to be doing my bit for Anglo-Euro relations. We will be having a German kid staying with us as part of my son's school exchange visit. He'll be going over there soon (cos that's the way it works you know!) It will be a bit of an upheaval having Constantine stay but I'm actually looking forward to it. My own command of the German language stretches as far as: eine beer und eine bucke mit caiser bitte (sic) which, loosely translated means: can I have a beer and a cheese roll please. You may mock but that phrase could mean the difference between a miserable journey or a satisfying snack. I ought to point out that I'm a lover of most cheeses, except from memory I don't think cheese is Germany's strong point. Fortunately my wife saves the day, yet again, as she's pretty much fluent, having studied German to at least O level standard. As far as I know she's never actually been there but that hasn't stopped her putting me to shame on numerous foreign holidays by having proper grown-up conversations with our Teutonic cousins. Anyway, no obvious war jokes please (I had to go and mention it didn't I!) I'll report back and let you know how the invasion week went if you want to hear. It takes me back to my school exchange visit to Konigswinter, near Bonn, when I were a lad. Ah yes, the lager, the football, the athletics matches, Abba, Sorry I'm a Lady, Black is Black I Want my Baby Back, the 1970s discos, the open air swimming pool, the girls in swimsuits, Claudia in particular; now that's another story and one which you will probably never hear!....

A trip down Happy memory lane....

When my wife and I first moved to Tonbridge in the late 1980s an average Friday night would be a well earned few pints in the Ivy House, a couple of nice drinks in what used to be called the Office Wine Bar, maybe a cheeky one in The Castle and then on to the Happy Cuisine down Avebury Avenue for an excellent Ruby Murray. On successive Friday nights we probably ate the whole menu between us. Then we had kids and, although we tried to pretend that we could still go to restaurants and that it wouldn't change our lives like it had so many of our friends', all that gradually changed. These days we hardly ever go out; so last night we decided that we would. It seemed really odd walking down to the Punch and Judy, in St. Stevens Street. When we walked in the bar we felt a little like the American tourists walking in to that pub in the Yorkshire moors in American Werewolf in London. The place was pretty dead for a Friday night, perhaps the in-crowd were already at the Humphrey Bean or the Slug and Lettuce, not in a coppers' pub, as the P&J is probably thought of. We had a couple of pints of their rather excellent London Pride which went down very well on a cold night, as last night was. Then on to our old favourite haunt, The Happy Cuisine. Again hardly anyone there, three groups of people in the whole time we were there. It was different and yet so familiar, a paint job and a little refurbishment, but unmistakably our old place, the waiters were very friendly, especially the owner's son and we had a really nice meal. Predictably I had a Chicken Tika Mossala, always a banker, and my wife plumped for an old favourite of her's, a Korai King Prawn, and we had all the old trimmings like Sag Aloo, popapums, naan breads, lime pickle, mango chutney etc. etc. Yes and after the meal they still brought the hot towels and After Eight mints, as they did fifteen years previously, a tried and trusted restaurant technique to soften the blow of the bill and to maximise their tip potential. We left them a rather good tip of around £3 (against my better judgement, but then my wife always was more generous than me on that score) well at least it would have been generous in 1989! We left feeling reassured that life in the Happy Cuisine carries on, the waiters who served us are probably the sons and nephews of the waiters who served us before but they're every bit as friendly and attentive. I like the more up market Indian restuarants like the Alishan, which are springing up every where but, for me, I'll always have the best memories of sitting by the table next to the fish tank in the good old Happy Cuisine....

Even more uplifting tale....

For all of you who have followed the story of Stuart (who used to be rather cruelly nicknamed Duvet Dave) which was originally posted on T blog a couple of weeks ago and then appeared in this weekend's Courier there is another, even more heart warming chapter to report. Stuart's mother has been in contact with me after a friend showed her the article in the Kent and Sussex Courier. She is delighted to hear that her son seems to be back on his feet as she hasn't been in contact with him for several years. Stuart if you are reading this I wish you a long and peaceful life doing whatever makes you happy....

Tonbridge blog shocking journalist....

This is what regular commenter and fellow ranter MattieG labelled me as in a recent comment posted on this site. And I have to agree with him on this occasion that he's right! I was riding a strange contraption (actually it was one of those fold-up bikes, which are extremely handy little things and a possible part of the solution to parking and traffic chaos in Tonbridge and perhaps even the climate change debacle, but that's another story!) I did see the police cars and ambulances and road blocked off and several cars at angles across Pembury Road. My whole body and mind was screaming to go and investigate; every fibre of the journalistic streak within me cried for me to pedal down to the scene of the crime/accident/incident or whatever it was. But I'm afraid the fold-up bike had a mind of its own and decided that I'd had enough excitement running the bookshop and blogging for one day and that my legs just about had one more big climb in them so up I went to be crowned, once again, the King of Le Quarry 'ill, the imaginery Polka Dot Jersey was mine once more (sorry that was last year wasn't it!) Looking back I am ashamed that I ignored my journalistic instinct and didn't turn back, whip out my Sony Erickson camera phone and bring Tonbridge bloggers the world over those exclusive snaps. So as a consollation here's a picture of a lovely spring scene instead. What was occuring on Pembury Rd anyway, does anyone have a clue? Perhaps I should appoint MattieG as chief South Tonbridge correspondent and general busybody....

No Impact Cafe update....

I went in yesterday to clear out my books from the now bankrupt Impact Coffee and Cards, the charity coffee shop on Tonbridge High Street, which opened at 9-45am, just after you'd had a coffee elsewhere and closed at 3-30pm, just before you fancied afternoon tea. Apparently the charity, Instant Muscle, which owned the cafe, went into administration and is subject to a possible investigation by fraud officers, was just left as it was on the day the staff walked in for a day's work only to receive their marching orders, and no money! The evidence of a sudden departure inside the coffee shop was evident; crumbs still left in cake stands, washing up piled up on the draining board and not done, till open with receipts spilling out, silver and copper cash left, notes taken, food still in the fridge, basically just abandoned. I would take it on as a bookstore cafe but the landlords want £27,500 annually for it. Not even Mr. Books can stretch to that! So maybe over to Costa Coffee, Burger King or another hairdresser then....

A brush with the HSBC Police....

I witnessed mild road rage yesterday.... my own that is! To cut a long and infuriating story short I decided to drop my son off at HSBC Bank in Tonbridge so that he could pay in some money. He said that he wouldn't wait if there was a queue, but it was the first time he'd actually paid money in on his own. (He's good at taking it out!) So I decide to wait a little while outside the bank tucked in out of the way on River Walk. I swear to you that within 1 minute a Goon aka Parking Attendant had spotted me and signalled for me to move off the yellow lines. The dilema now was what do I do about my son? so I stopped the engine, as I was causing no blockage in the road, and ran into the bank to see how long he was going to take. Then I ran back out, reversed a bit went forward a bit (felt ridiculous, but at least I was technically manoeuvring so could not be caught out there. Then an HSBC employee was waiting to move into the narrow entrance to the road that I was, by now, at the junction of debating with myself whether to wait a little longer or to pull away, drive round needlessly for a few minutes and then come back in the hope that my son would have read my mind. (He's recently had his moble stolen so that wasn't an option either!) This HSBC worker, I knew she was that by the red sweat shirt which said HSBC on it, (I'll make a sleuth yet!) by now was rolling her eyes as if to say get out of the way I'm a busy lady. Due to that road rage feeling we all get in these sort of circumstances, this eye rolling annoyed the hell out of me, why was her day more important than mine! As she drove past me she rolled down her window and said that it was a private road (I'm pretty sure that that was a bare faced lie) so I said sarcastically why don't you call the police then and just lingered where I was for a few moments longer quietly fuming inside, in the hope that the lad would come out of the bank. I then saw in my rear view mirror that this bank lady was in her car (by the way now completely blocking the narrrow road herself) on the phone, seemingly writing down my number plate. So I got out of the car and walked up to hers, trying to keep my cool, being careful not to touch her car, signalled for her to wind down her window and said words to the effect that for her information I was waiting for my young son, who was a customer in her bank. Slightly taken aback by my boldness, she murmurred something about the traffic wardens being keen on booking cars in that zone, to which I spattered back to her that I'd already encountered one. It could so easily have turned nastier, but we both left it at that; it's plain to see from these mild examples of road rage how they can develop into a major incident. To cut an even longer story short I then had to drive round to Somerfield car park, only to find that they now charge 60p, and pay to park for the first time in Tonbridge for over three years (yes really, you just have to know where and be prepared to walk a little); but that's another story. And the moral is, don't mess with the HSBC Police, especially if they've got your money....

Are the council spying on us?...

It would be interesting to know whether the actions reported in today's Telegraph apply to our own Tonbridge and Malling Borough Council. Are we being spied on?? According to the report legislation aimed at preventing terrorism is being used by councils like TMBC to catch out people who allow their dogs to foul public footpaths, fly tippers and families suspected of the heinous crime of falsifying their schools application forms. Some might say these "crimes" if that's what they are, need stamping out, but really isn't this heavy handed use of KGB-style surveillance equipment going just a little too far. Is it another step towards our country becoming a police state? Modern technology allows councils to take this kind of action at relatively little cost; parking attendants already routinely use cameras to justify their extorting ever more fines on motorists, but surely our own council would not stoop so low, surely TMBC keep the right side of the fine line between catching wrong dooers and becoming the Stasi-like wrong doers themselves. Don't they?...

Uplifting tale....

Many business people and shoppers in the centre of Tonbridge will remember the sight of a bare footed man with long hair and a long grey beard, wearing very little but a duvet. He was out in all weather thus attired; I believe that many, especially cruel-tongued school kids refered to him as Duvet Dave. He happened upon my shop in Bank Street back then, a couple of years ago, when he was obviously in a desparate state. He asked me if I had a copy of the Holy Bible and also of Pilgrims Progress; both books I had and gave them to him saying give the ten pounds when you can. I'll be honest and say that I didn't ever expect to see that tenner and I have thought very little of the occasion ever since. Until that is today when a man in a newish-looking weather proof anorak-style jacket, wearing smart trainers walked into my shop and said, words to the effect, that once I had been very kind to him and given him some books and that he would like to repay that generosity. It turns out that Duvet Dave is in fact called Stuart and now he just looks like a slightly hippy man in his early fifties. He still has the beard and longish hair and I did just about recognise his face. He not only paid me the ten quid, which I'd written off, but also bought two more books for around another twenty pounds. We had a fairly lengthy conversation about the stae of the world, religion and all sorts of other subjects; Stuart, it seems, is a fairly well spoken and intelligent man who just lost his way a little. It almost restores your faith in the human race doesn't it!...

No Impact Cafe closes as charity goes into administration....

It seems that the "charity" Instant Muscle which had a large training centre in the town as well as running a cafe in Tonbridge High Street, is no more. This is mildly annoying to Tonbridge blog as my alter ego Mr. Books had around two thousand books on sale there; they are currently locked in there, along with some rather nice folding bookcases. My annoyance must be insignificant vesus that of the employees of the organisation, who turned up to work one day in late February to be told that they had no job, oh and by the way, wouldn't be paid for the previous month's work either. The government charity apparently just went bust, having lost the confidence of its backers. In short it has "DODGY" written all over it. They actually owe me money, not alot, and I didn't mind giving them money for renting space in their badly run cafe because I was fooled into thinking it was a good cause, but now I'm pissed off even if it's only a hundred quid or so on pricinple. Anyone who frequented their cafe "Impact Coffee and Cards" would have noticed something about the place; a few paces along the High Street Cafe Nero would have been packed out with people queueing up to pay their £2 for a tall skinny latte or whatever; further up they'd have noticed a similar stream of people at Starbucks waiting for their Milan Moccas. But at Impact, they'd have seen a just a few old folk sipping their tea-bag tea or filter coffee; if you fancied a cup before 9-30am you'd have been lucky, and after noon tea would have been a rarity since the cafe was invariably closed by 3-30pm. So the two times when you fancy a drink the most, their doors weren't open. I'd love to get hold of that place and run it as Mr. Books Book Store Cafe and if I did I'd open at 7-30am and close at 8pm, unlike this shambles of a now defunct so-called charity who in the words of Alan Sugar on the BBC's The Apprentice didn't have a bloody clue....

TJ's Chairman's happy hour....

Clocked: watching one of my favourite Friday night comedy programmes, Happy Hour with Al Murray as the Pub Landlord, last night was Tonbridge Juddians Chairman big Gazza Martin, as clear as day, the TV studio lights reflecting off the top of his shiney bonce. Just as well he was sat just in front of 'Big Bob' behind and I'd never have spotted him! Well Gary does need something to smile about this season; let's face it there's little to cheer him up down at the TJ's Slade ground this year. Please take your glasses back to the bar....

Weather not fair....

Well the West Kent Book Fair came and went on Sunday; fair weather leading up to it, beautiful fresh sunny weather so far this week. The day of the fair? Blizzard! Bloody arctic conditions of course; the only day that snow has actually settled in Tonbridge in the whole of the winter season. This meant that one of the authors was unable to get there, it meant that visitor numbers were well down on usual, and it meant a few unhappy booksellers at the end of the day. Some of them had only just about covered their costs for the day after table fees, petrol and cost of stock were taken into account. Who'd be a book dealer eh? To be honest I was quite surprised that as many as did braved the weather. It just goes to show that if you're a real book worm or collector there isn't alot that will stop you. I really was very close to getting our own Dame Kelly Holmes along to sign her new children's book, Katy the Shooting Star, but alas she had some Olympic torch carrying duties to attend to on Sunday. (A lame excuse, or should that be Dame excuse!) I wonder if half the town would have turned out despite the weather if our local celebrity had been able to make it? We'll never know. I felt sorry for Katherine Reynolds, prize winning author of a children's book called Born to Dance; she and her husband had travelled all the way from Somerset to promote her book. I hope that their stay in Tonbridge's finest hotel, the Rose and Crown at least made the trip a pleasant one. The next fair will be on October 26th when a record turn out is expected, fair weather permitting....

Katie you're fired....

Fans of the BBC's The Apprentice will enjoy this YouTube lego animated version; it certainly made me chuckle....

Poetry at the Ivy tonight....

Yes it has come round yet again. For all you poetry fans out there who are within striking distance of Tonbridge come to the Ivy House pub on the corner of Bordyke and Tonbridge High Street. Starts at around 8pm and is totally open mic. Just bring some money for the drinks, mines a pint of Fosters....

Take a great book to bed....

As Piers Morgan has managed to wring out of Liberal leader, Nick Clegg, the number of sexual partners he's had in a recent interview for GQ Mag, (between twenty and 30 if you're intersted) Tonbridge blog asks: Is it too personal a question to ask how many books have you read in your life!? I met a head teacher recently who confessed that he'd only read four in his life and one of them was a rugby player's biography! (He is Welsh, but still pretty poor for a school principal none-the-less.) Thinking about it maybe he had misunderstood the question, which would then make far more sense! I reckon that I've read less than 1,000 (novels that is) which for a book shop owner is not great. I've met some Tonbridge men who boast that they had the pleasure of over 9,000 in their lives; and women who boast as few as 120. But then men do tend to over claim and women to under play the number! How many books have you gone to bed with?...

Blatant ad for West Kent Book Fair this Sunday....

Come along to the

West Kent Book Fair & Literary Event (Tonbridge)

THIS SUNDAY April 6th

See web site for details and directions to the fair

Greens shoot....

As the first days of Spring arrive I did my bit for the environment at the weekend by attending not one but three events organised by the Canaries in a Coalmine project. The first of these, a dance performance called Global Storming, held at the E.M. Forster Theatre, Tonbridge School was simply fantastic. This was a combination of junior schools, senior schools and community dance projects. Yes there was a little bit of that feeling of being at the school Christmas play and having to applaud every scene with a cutsie show-off girl in it, but mixed in with some of the distinctly mediocre performances were some quite stunning dance pieces. I hate to single out people or groups but feel I must; the Commotion groups and Hillview dancers were absolutely superb; Tonbridge blog has learnt that one or two of the more senior members of the group are, not at all surprisingly, on their way to ballet schools and the like. The piece entitled Fusion was breath takingly brilliant and showed great poise, complexity and creativity. I went along expecting to be lightly entertained and came out feeling really quite moved emotionally. And as if that weren't enough there was the lantern procession (not march, as we were all reminded, as we turned up at West Kent College car park on a foul Saturday evening.) Myself, my kids and around 70 others walked up Tonbridge High Street carrying home made lanterns (recycled paper of course!) a few had brought wind up torches, none of the lanterns were lit because A. It would have been bad for the climate and B. they would have set light to themselves, and maybe the the whole town. After becoming more and more soaked and being gawked at by people in McDonalds and Starbucks we arrived at Tonbridge School not knowing quite what if anything we'd achieved. My excuse was that I only went along to give the kids something to do anyway. Then later the same night there was the Concert to Save the Planet (or gig if you prefer) billed to be open air at the Castle, but ending up also at Tonbridge School in Big School Hall. Despite the rather ambitious title this too was a great event; that is though enough for one posting, so that's another story....

Tonbridge blog gets Googled....

It may be happening soon. Tonbridge blog is more than a little annoyed with losing a fews days at the end of most months now and not being able to post anything or have anyone read any of my wisdom! I get itchy fingers if I cannot blog so I thought I'd try a new approach. It seems that Google blogger is free, doesn't have any limit to capacity and what's more seems easier to use than the old admin company 123 reg. Time will tell; for the time being T blog will run simultaneously on both and we'll see how it goes. There may be a few teething problems along the way but it should be ok in the long run. So I'll keep blogging, expressing my views and rantings with a Tonbridge focus and I hope you'll all do likewise....