More utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘Still better organised than my garage.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: TUESDAY 19 MARCH 2019
THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.
Item 1
Some Spam, yesterday
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said official email addresses had been set up for Councillors and these should now be used for all business correspondence. Councillor Watterson said he was worried about spam, and getting emails about pills to ‘help a chap out in the bedroom.’
Councillor Boothby said she knew some of these pills were expensive and had told her Lazlo not to get any more until the price of Viagra falls.
Councillor Dean said he’d gone on holiday to Viagra Falls with his wife.
Councillor Pritchard said he was also worried about spam, because of his allergy to processed pork.
Item 2
The Chairman welcomed Councillor Lathers to the meeting following her absence at the last two meetings due to severe migraines which lawyers had now formally confirmed were unlikely to have been caused by the head injuries sustained by Councillor Lathers from the heavy stapler thrown at her by Councillor Boothby at the last meeting Councillor Lathers had been to.
Councillor Watterson said if you wrote all that down in the minutes it would be a very long sentence.
Councillor Boothby said someone else she knew had just got a very long sentence.
The Chairman said his son Gary was very sorry about that.
Councillor Lathers said she and Councillor Boothby had agreed to put aside their differences, now that she’d put aside Councillor Boothby’s husband. Both Councillors said they just wanted to work together for the good of Shufflehampton and the wider community. The Council applauded them, suspiciously.
Brian, back from hospital
Item 3
Councillor Lathers said she’d complained about the recent ladies’ night at the Cow and Banjo. On hearing that attractive male waiters were serving food at tables half naked, she’d assumed it would be the top halves which were naked. This had not been the case, and now she couldn’t look at a sausage plait in quite the same way.
Councillor Boothby said she’d also complained about the ladies’ night after driving her 19-year-old son Brian, a professional male model, to A and E to be treated for pastry burns to his tallywhacker.
The Chairman stated that colleagues should not have attended this sordid event because the Council’s reputation was already crumbling. ‘A bit like the sausage plait,’ said Councillor Lathers.
Councillor Tomkins said she thought everyone was taking this far too seriously and perhaps, in this case, laughter was the best medicine. Councillor Boothby said not for the pastry burns, because this was Savlon.
Councillor Watterson said he quite liked going to the Cow and Banjo. The pub had started a weekly Scrabble club which meant he no longer needed to play with himself.
Item 4
Councillor Dean once again reminded colleagues that with elections on the way it was important to safeguard the Parish Council’s reputation even though everyone knew where the bodies were buried. Councillor Tomkins said yes, these were no longer in the shallow grave under the cricket pavilion.
Councillor Dean confirmed he’d been using a metaphor again and everyone relaxed, apart from Councillor Tomkins.
Item 5
Under ‘Any Other Business’, the Council agreed to support the planning application to build new houses on the land currently occupied by Shufflehampton Cricket Club. Councillor Dean, a longstanding critic of the plans, confirmed he no longer saw any reason why the development could not go ahead.
The meeting ended at 8.01 pm with yummy flapjacks.
More utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A shabby attempt to discredit my dad.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: THURSDAY 7 MARCH 2019
THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.
Item 1
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said he’d stopped adding silly words into the minutes to check if Parish Councillors were reading them. He said he’d thought about replacing some of the words with rhyming words but the Chairman had told him not to do this or he’d go back to cleaning the toilets at Shufflehampton Pleasure Centre.
Item 2
Councillor Watterson apologised for not being present at the meeting. He was physically present, but had his mind on other things so wouldn’t be listening.
Item 3
The Council sent its good wishes to Councillor Lathers for a speedy recovery following her admission to hospital for treatment for head injuries sustained in a fight with Councillor Boothby at a previous Council meeting.
The Chairman said he’d received a letter from the firm of solicitors acting for Councillor Lathers and it looked like this was going to get very messy. Councillor Boothby said that Lathers should just have kept her mitts off her Lazlo, the brazen drab.
The Chairman asked the Clerk not to record anything to do with this in the minutes, at all, under any circumstances, and the Clerk agreed.
Rachel Riley, yesterday
Item 4
Councillor Boothby said that as suggested at the last meeting she’d asked the actor Tom Hardy to open the Village Fete. She suspected his current commitments to the Mad Max movie franchise were why he’d not responded to her tweet yet, and promised to keep the Chairman informed.
Councillor Dean said why not ask the charming Rachel Riley from Countdown to open the fete instead because, as far as he was aware, she wasn’t in any Mad Max films. Councillor Pritchard said this was a good idea and someone should approach Rachel Riley, but not him obviously, because of that restraining order.
Councillor Tomkins said she’d be happy to approach Rachel Riley but if she did agree to open the fete Councillor Pritchard’s restraining order would stop him from coming and who else would judge Shufflehampton’s Firmest Marrow. Councillor Pritchard said maybe he could just borrow a small tent and hide in it if Rachel walked past.
Councillor Boothby said Councillor Pritchard was a deeply unpleasant and creepy man who needed help. Councillor Dean said that if Councillor Pritchard needed help, he had a tent.
Item 5
Councillor Boothby complained that sexism was obviously rife in the Council. Councillor Dean said this was double standards because how was it okay for Councillor Boothby to openly simper at the prospect of buff young Tom Hardy sampling her prize-winning dumpsy dearie, and not okay for them to hold a torch for Rachel off Countdown. Boothby said this was different, because with her and Tom Hardy, there was no restraining order. Councillor Pritchard said not for the time being anyway. There was a cracking sound, and he cried out in agony.
Councillor Tomkins said that whoever opened the fete, the Council should avoid false advertising. For example, she’d taken two pounds of fresh raspberries, some caster sugar and some lemon juice to the function room at the Cow and Banjo last night, only to be told by the hairy man playing the drums it wasn’t that kind of jam session.
The meeting ended at 8.01 pm, when the ambulance turned up.
An occasional series of utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A frankly shocking indictment of institutionalised malpractice and ineptitude.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: Thursday 28 February 2019
THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.
Item 1
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, noted that all Councillors were present apart from Councillor Lathers who had a migraine. The Council sent its good wishes to Councillor Lathers for a speedy recovery, apart from Councillor Boothby who’d thrown the stapler at Councillor Lathers causing the migraines.
Councillor Tomkins said that when she’d had migraines she’d got help from a complementary therapist. Councillor Boothby said her therapist hadn’t been very complimentary when she’d accused him of trying to give her a big snog.
The Chairman said his son Gary was very sorry about that.
Item 2
Councillor Pritchard sent his apologies, not for failing to attend the meeting (because he was at the meeting), but because of his poor self-awareness and casual xenophobia. He wasn’t proud of these things, but was now too set in his ways to try to view the world any differently and perfectly content for younger generations to bear the consequences of his ill-conceived and inherently selfish decisions.
Councillor Morgan seconded this, even though it didn’t need seconding.
Item 3
The Chairman said he’d seen some embarrassing mistakes in official documents and asked if the Clerk used spell check. The Clerk said he did, but that spell check wouldn’t pick up any instance of an intended word being replaced by a similarly spelled word where that similarly spelled word was a legitimate English word and was correctly spelled. The Chairman said all this was fine, he just didn’t want anyone looking silly ahead of the forthcoming Council erections.
Councillor Dean said Councillors should present a united front in public even though they all knew where the bodies were buried. Councillor Tomkins said yes, in the shallow grave under the cricket pavilion.
Councillor Dean confirmed he’d been using a metaphor and everyone relaxed, apart from Councillor Tomkins.
Tom Hardy, yesterday
Item 4
The Councillors were asked to declare any interests. Councillor Boothby said the actor Tom Hardy. The Chairman said this wasn’t what ‘declaring interests’ usually meant, but that his wife agreed with Councillor Boothby about Tom Hardy, particularly since Mad Max: Fury Road.
Councillor Dean said Tom Hardy was a credit to the acting profession and couldn’t the Council give him an opportunity to open the Village Fete. Councillor Boothby said she’d be very happy to give him one.
Councillor Watterson said why couldn’t the Village Fete sponsor the latest Bob Geldof charity project as advertised at the local Tesco. Councillor Tomkins said she’d check, but was sure that ‘Dishwasher Rinse Aid’ was a detergent product and not a fundraiser.
Councillor Morgan seconded this, even though it didn’t need seconding.
Item 5
Councillor Morgan left the meeting, realising he was a Parish Councillor in another village and had come to this meeting by mistake.
Under ‘Any Other Business’, the Chairman asked the Clerk if he had ceased his irritating practice of adding silly words into the minutes to check if any of the Councillors had read them. The Clerk said he had.
The first in a series of utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A searing insight into the cut-and-thrust world of rural politics.’ MADE UP QUOTE
Meeting Date: Friday 22 February 2019
THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.
Item 1
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said there was no point in writing minutes because the Parish Councillors never read them. He knew this because he’d been adding in silly words recently to see if anyone would notice wibbly wobbly dingly danglies.
Mister Keenly was thanked for raising the issue but asked to behave in future shooby dooby dooby.
Item 2
Jennifer Lopez, yesterday
The Council considered whether its image was ‘funky enough’ for younger people to be engaged. Councillor Boothby said younger people should be engaged, particularly before getting married. Councillor Tomkins said that if it made things less boring why couldn’t the minutes refer to Council members in a showbiz way based on their initials like ‘J-Lo’ for the lovely Miss Jennifer Lopez. Many were supportive of this idea, but not Councillor Tim Watterson.
Councillor Pritchard said Parish Council business was often quite tedious so it was a waste of time trying to funk things up. The Clerk said that if the complaints he’d dealt with in the last month were anything to go by, the Council was already very good at this.
It was decided there were to be no new monikers for Council members. Councillor Boothby said a delightful Polish woman called Monica did her cleaning on Thursdays.
Item 3
Councillor Lathers put a motion to the Council that the gardener employed to maintain the village hall lawns be sacked after her pet dogs were cruelly smothered in horse manure. Councillor Lathers said that when she’d asked the gardener to put fertiliser on the borders she hadn’t meant her border collies.
Councillor Pritchard, smirking, asked Councillor Lathers if she was sure they were a pair of border collies and not a couple of shih tzus. Councillor Lathers replied that Skimpy Foo and Nang Nang had been deeply traumatised by the whole unsavoury experience and that Councillor Pritchard was an insensitive, but nonetheless very attractive, man.
The motion was carried.
Item 4
The Chairman said that attendance at meetings had recently been patchy and asked Councillors to catch up on any outstanding matters. Councillor Dean said he needed time to fully consider the motions. Councillor Boothby said her GP had fully considered her motions last week and there was probably a lack of bran in her diet. The Chairman asked if there was any other business. Councillor Boothby said not since last Tuesday, but thank you for asking.
Item 5
Councillor Boothby said wasn’t it terrible that her son Tony was getting the sack from his gardening job for a harmless prank with that horse poo and wasn’t Councillor Lathers a bitter and twisted old bat who was also having an affair with her husband.
Councillor Boothby threw a heavy stapler at Councillor Lathers, drawing blood. The pair quickly became embroiled in a fight, causing damage to each other and several of the soft furnishings. Councillor Dean tried to intervene but was punched hard in the face.
Given the somewhat controversial nature of the matters discussed at the meeting, the Chairman asked the Clerk of the Council to ensure the minutes were sanitised for inappropriate language.
The meeting ended at 8.01 pm fuzzy monkey nik naks.
Inside the mysterious world of competitive amateur theatre. This article was first published in HOT, WILD & FREE magazine (don’t blame me – I didn’t name it) in September 2011.
THE LETTER comes inviting us to Tamworth. It’s £25 to enter and feedback on each play performed at the festival will be given, in public, by the adjudicator. Hurrah!
It’s amateur theatre, it’s the Tamworth Drama Festival and the adjudicator is the expert from the Guild of Drama Adjudicators (GODA) who’ll put one lucky group through to the Regional Final to compete with winners from the other local festivals. Other GODA adjudicators will determine its fate should the group then make the English Final, British Final, World Final, Solar System Final and Universe Final.
I may have made those last three rounds up. It’s competitive, this am-dram lark.
On a Budget
My village drama group says that if you can a) write your own play so you don’t have to pay royalties, b) have almost no-one in it because it’s easier to rehearse, c) not have to hire the venue you’re performing in and d) make sure your set will fit in the back of a Vauxhall Zafira (or similar car), your production’s good to go.
I’m not saying that we’re careful with money but our bank account’s more secure than a combination-lock chastity belt, in a sealed vault with 24 hour CCTV, guarded by a patrol of heavily-armed soldiers, in a castle with an iron portcullis and a moat filled with sharks, on a remote desert island protected by an impenetrable forcefield, whose top secret location is known only to an elite band of deadly ninjas. I mean it. There are ducks’ posteriors less watertight.
A ninja (Brian), protecting our theatre group’s finances, yesterday
So taking part in someone else’s event for £25 is good because you can just turn up and let other people do the admin. Everything is perfect.
But if it wasn’t for that pesky adjudicator.
One Lovely, One Drunk
We’ve been adjudicated before. Oh yes. First time, a lovely lady called Jill. Adored our show, a one-man play converted to a two-man play to meet the ‘minimum two characters’ entry criteria. She called it ‘wonderful,’ said we’d won and gave us two awards. Great for the cast. But not for the bank account because of budgeting for the next round and expenses for the trophy engraving.
It would be impolite of me to suggest that the next festival’s (non GODA-approved) adjudicator was ‘a little tiddly.’ In his defence, I’m sure his decision to punctuate his feedback on our show by careering haphazardly into furniture was made in our interests. I think he needed the toilet. I’m a father to two young kids and I know a pee-pee dance when I see one.
This bloke didn’t say anything complimentary about our show, a two-man play converted to a three-man play to meet the ‘minimum three characters’ entry criteria put in place to stop a one-man play converted to a two-man play winning all the trophies again.
But then he said we’d won anyway and gave us four awards.
Great for the cast. But not for the bank account because of budgeting for the next round and more expenses for the trophy engraving. They charge you by the letter at Timpson’s. ‘Calverton Theatre Group’ (at twenty-one letters a pop) is really costly so it’s been suggested in future that we either enter rubbish plays with no hope of success or continue to win things but change the name of our group to ‘Jeff.’
Stiff Competition
Anyway. As you move through the rounds of these scarily competitive events two things become clear – 1) the groups you’re competing against are a better standard because, like you, they’ve already won some local festivals and 2) the adjudicators are more eccentric and unpredictable. There’s an escalation in scale of what you have to face to progress. Adjudicators are like baddies in Plants vs Zombies Garden Warfare on the X-Box. More difficult to conquer the higher you go up the levels.
Sepp Blatter arriving at Batley Light Operatic’s recent production of ‘The Mikado’
On balance, everything’s above board (unless you’re mates with the adjudicator in which case the brazen FIFA-esque favouritism can fair take your breath away). But in the end, for all their alleged expertise, adjudicators are fallible human beings judging talent shows, hard-wired like the rest of us to either like something or not. And when you like something, you’re more likely to say positive things about it at the expense of something else you don’t like which may actually have more artistic merit.
The Regional Final
I need to accept that adjudicators either love the plays I write or they hate them. In their eyes I am theatrical Marmite. And when an adjudicator doesn’t like you / is jealous of you / has already decided another group’s going to win anyway so big cheesy cobblers to you, all you can do is try to take the moral high ground. Strangely, the greatest praise given to one of my shows by any adjudicator took the form of two pieces of criticism at a regional final.
Firstly, the basic staging of our show (one chair, no actual set) could, the adjudicator suggested, have been improved by a chorus of heaven’s angels floating around the stage at the show’s opening, ‘as intended by the writer in the script.’ Given that I was the writer of the script and now intended quite differently due to my production budget being non-existent seemed to have escaped him.
Moody production shot of me at Regional Final (illuminated crotch not pictured)
Secondly, we’d botched the final lighting cue. Due to a misdirected spotlight the last thing the audience saw as curtains closed was my illuminated crotch area. A fair point from the adjudicator on this one, because there’s nothing worse than having a show ruined by the final tableau being the actor’s knackers lit up like a beacon. Maybe if we’d brought in the chorus of heaven’s angels right at the end, it would have distracted the adjudicator. I suppose we’ll never know.
The adjudicator said nothing about the writing, or the acting, or that the audience had found the piece so powerful many were moved to tears. Competitive am-dram it seems (and this is its biggest flaw) takes no account of the impact of a play on an audience as a measure of its quality because – heh – what does an audience know?
So in summary. Two picky comments from adjudicator = nothing else to find fault with = resounding moral victory = no trophies = no engraving costs.
Rules is Rules / Keeping it Real
If this isn’t bonkers enough, read the competition rules. Each group has thirty minutes to put up their set and you’re timed with a stop watch. I hold the record for shortest rig at seven seconds, which was how long it took me to pick up a single chair and place it on the stage. I said timing me was pointless. The stage crew timed me anyway. Afterwards I said could they time me again, because maybe I could get the chair in place in three seconds now I’d warmed up a bit. They told me I was taking the Michael.
So why even take part at all, you may ask? Because it’s absolutely blooming brilliant, that’s why. These festivals are quirky, antiquated and arbitrary and I love them. Also, did I mention it’s dead cheap to take part?
If you’re in a group that takes this sort of thing seriously, please accept my apologies. I don’t mean to poke fun unfairly. It isn’t that we lack respect for this wonderful British thespian institution. It’s just that our group has different priorities. We just want to have fun and entertain some people, and that’s really about it. We’re quite happy, thank you, to turn up at an arts centre, do the best show we can, blag a couple of trophies, drive off with our set in the boot, pitch up at a camp site and drink whisky until sunrise.
Richard Burton (as ‘Tommy Tumble’ in the 1968 Felixstowe Players production of ‘Crikey, Vicar!’)
Our acting idols? Oliver Reed and Richard Burton. They’re still with us, you know. In spirit.
And they were certainly with that adjudicator I referred to earlier. You know, the ‘tiddly’ one.
Maybe we’ll see him at Tamworth.
Disclaimer: the author’s suggestion that a GODA-approved adjudicator would be biased – and therefore not judge all plays with complete objectivity – is not intended as a criticism of all GODA-approved adjudicators.
It is, however, based on a real example where it was blindingly obvious to a room full of people – and each of the drama groups taking part – that this is exactly what the adjudicator was.
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said he’d stopped adding silly words into the minutes to check if Parish Councillors were reading them. He said he’d thought about replacing some of the words with rhyming words but the Chairman had told him not to do this or he’d go back to cleaning the toilets at Shufflehampton Pleasure Centre.
Simon Carter 
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