I was truly "Over the Rainbow" in rather more than 100 words

“Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Now I know that even for me this is a bizarre opening to a report about Over The Rainbow (Or “OTR” as we say in show-business), especially if you are not a Harry Potter aficionado, but honestly, it has everything to do with one of the most fun filled lunches I have ever enjoyed.

Let me enlighten you. Few of you will be aware of the agonising dilemma I faced when the OTR dates were published and I discovered I was away on holiday for my local(ish) Dumfries gig; But what was to be done? Should I plan a road trip to the cosmopolitan Cumbrian metropolis that is……Barrow in Furness?  Perhaps I could ride the overnight bus to a venue some where “Down South”? Or maybe I should even cancel my holiday? (Well possibly not cancel, but I certainly thought about travelling to Wales a day later than the rest of my family.  So that’s why I ignored “Parenting Lesson no 34: Never feel the need to be defensive with your teenager”, and uncharacteristically snapped “Yes, I really am that sad”, to my incredulous daughter, when I foolishly shared my quandary with my wholly unsupportive family).  .

Anyway, “Manana” being another of my watchwords, I shelved the problem, adopting a Micawber like attitude that something would turn up.  And so it did in the form of a charity VIP fund raising lunch in Newcastle for Macmillan with an OTR ticket for a Whitley Bay show thrown in.  (At this point, it’s appropriate to say both “thank goodness” and “thank you” for the forensic press scanning activities of the lovely ladies on DS and on FB, for at the time the event was publicised, I was being sand blasted in the Outer Hebrides and would have otherwise missed reading it).

But back to the tale. What self respecting Northern FF could resist such a wonderful and altruistic lure? Certainly not me!  Money swiftly changed hands and a ticket was all mine!

Despite initial reservations over the ballady type of Eva Cassidy music not being to my taste, my excitement levels began to rise as I read the reports and reviews of the shows attended by other lucky ladies so by OTR eve, I was like a child waiting for Christmas.  I had booked the  Wednesday off work but as so often happens, an important meeting was scheduled (groan) but it was to be held in the Newcastle office (yippee.  You'll appreciate I'm getting in some practice for panto time).  Ordinarily, I would have “dialled in” but thinking it would be convenient to attend in person, I had an earlier start than planned  to Destination Newcastle. But never mind.
 Like all meetings, it dragged on so it was 11.30am before I hurtled out of the office like a mad woman (nothing new there) and leapt into the car, praying I would remember the way to Jesmond.  Thinking I might as well extend my spiritual petitions beyond the celestial sat-nav, I also entreated that there would be a convenient parking place and that the 17 (yes, 17) sets of traffic lights between me and my lunch date would all be on green. They say that the devil looks after his own but I prefer to believe it really was divine intervention that enabled me to perform the best reverse parking manoeuvre I’ve ever done into the only free parking space in the whole of Newcastle outside West Jesmond Metro Station at 11.55am.  And in front of 2 re-cycling wagons and 6 burly operatives too!  Deo Gratis!!

Once out of the car, it was pouring with rain, (I'd not mentioned the weather in my prayers, thinking you can't have everything) so naturally my carefully sculptured hair styling lasted all of 30 seconds as I scuttled through the underpass and down the lane to Franco’s.  Jesmond is quite a trendy part of old Newcastle with some great architecture but I had no time to stand and stare.  I rocked up to the bar resembling a drowned rat on acid and grinned manically at the beautifully coiffured lady offering bubbly.  I asked for something weaker and dripping gently, took in my surroundings.  And very smart Brian looked too, in his jacket and white shirt! And the bar wasn’t bad either!

And then came the seating issue.  It seemed that I was a problem. (Inevitably, I hear you thinking).  But because I was alone, they didn’t know where to put me (A lesson to be learned there, methinks).  I decided to diffuse the tension, said “I don’t care where I sit as strangers are friends you haven’t met, I’ll chat with anyone and after all this is Newcastle, one of the friendliest cities in the UK” and so found myself sitting with 3 of the most wonderful, inspirational ladies I could have ever wished to meet.  And I was the only one under 82! The ladies were all actresses and had spent much of their lives performing in a wide variety of stage and TV roles including Dirty Dusting, Tracey Beaker, Byker Grove and Super Gran among others (Regrettably, I’d not seen any of them but at least I recognised the titles so was able to “ooh” and “ahh” in all the right places!) But, Jean in particular was memorable for her role as the trolley lady on the train in the first Harry Potter film; but oh that she’d had some pumpkin pasties with her as Franco’s food, sadly, was only just about OK.  

That minor disappointment aside, the atmosphere in the bar was buzzing. A local TV/Stage personality acted as host and as my ladies were local celebrities too, our table was a veritable shrine for other “lovvies”, with regular pilgrimages made from other parts of the bistro to chat with them. However, the piece de resistance of the whole event came from Sarah Jane Buckley herself, for, accompanied by one of the band, she sang “Somewhere over the Rainbow” in Eva Cassidy style, before jacking up the tempo and belting out “Valerie”, as we ate. I was impressed with her singing and knew I was going to be in for a treat later that evening.  The rest of the lunch passed in a riot of laughter with my adorable theatrical companions and their gossipy tales and I was truly grateful for their wonderful company.

Once we’d eaten, there was the inevitable press photo shoot and raffle.  Naturally I didn’t win a prize but to everyone’s delight, Brian won garden centre tokens.  I then dithered for a while, wondering if I should ask Brian for a photo, despite my helmet hair, but was finally persuaded to take the plunge by my lunch companions.  Brian was charming as usual, I checked for hostile positioning of coffee cups (what happened in Blackpool stays in Blackpool) and the delightful Maureen Nolan did the honours on my phone.  I remember making some typically inane but true remark about not being au fait with technology, gave the FFs a name check and the deed was done!  And then it was time to slink back out into the rain for a wander round Jesmond in search of Tupperware before the drive over to Whitley Bay. 

Now for those of you who have never heard of Whitley Bay, it’s a small seaside town on the East Coast and home of the (now derelict but about to be restored) Spanish City immortalised in the Dire Straits song, “Tunnel of Love”.  It isn’t exactly Blackpool although both locations can be described as bracing at any time of year with little difficulty.  And it was certainly that last week!

I have a bizarre but none the less genuine fondness for seaside towns in winter (I know it was only mid-October but trust me, it’s always winter in Whitley Bay) so I arrived in plenty of time as I wanted to add to my successful butty box finds.  I found an enormous Sainsbury’s, admired the new Gok collection and had a warm cuppa before facing an invigorating walk along the front.  I was glad to hear the Spanish City was to be restored as there is something terribly sad and poignant about seedy, derelict, Victorian/Edwardian seaside buildings.  I did a bit of treasure hunting and then made my way to the tastefully re-vamped playhouse where I met my friends from lunch time.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the theatre was full and then…… it was on with the show. 

Now I’ve never been a huge fan of the musical genres played on Terry Wogan R2 show; I think I was irreparably damaged by it during my youth when my mother, along with most other women in Britain, listened as she tried and failed to Fight the Flab during the 1970s. Or maybe it was enduring Terry’s toe curling rendition of the Floral Dance rather more times than I care to remember.  It matters not.  I’ve previously admitted to being slightly dubious initially about the OTR music but Sarah Jane as Eva lived up to the critiques and totally blew me away.  She was convincing, had terrific musicality and really di have a great quality of voice.   I was also pleasantly surprised by Maureen Nolan too.  She still looked amazing and sounded just as good as she had during her early days in Blackpool as part of the Nolan Sisters.  And yes, the set was basic, yes the acting script was somewhat pedestrian at times but none of that detracted from the story telling through music which was fab-u-lous.  One minor draw back was the rather indifferent cinematic projection quality on the backdrop which is possibly why I thought, (and I’m sure the agriculturally astute among us could confirm), that the ripening cereal crop gently swaying in the breeze during Fields of Gold was in fact, wheat.  I swear I never saw a whisker of barley in that projected image. 

But leaving that aside and moving on to the Star of Our Show, Brian, well what can I say? He certainly did a good Ronette impression with that tambourine!  I was prepared to be critical if necessary but there was no need; I genuinely loved his performance. He was superb in the role of Danny, with good diction and a mature stage presence and his very listenable singing voice has definitely developed.  My elderly ladies were enchanted with him and adored his accent!! And like all of us,  I too would have liked to have seen him in a bigger role but perhaps that's being greedy.  After all we have Aladdin and beyond to look forward to.

So that was it. A wider range of music than I expected, several curtain calls, another standing ovation, a hug with my ladies and then  out into the night to find my car and drive the 2 hours home, singing Wonderful World.  And it really is, filled with wonderful people of all ages sharing so much joy! Thank you Jean, Gwen, Helen, the cast and crew of OTR, Steve the fundraiser and Brian for giving me a fabulous day to remember

Letting go

Letting go can be a difficult step to take, but it’s one that must be made by the members of Team Awesome, the affectionate collective which evolved from following the Strictly Come Dancing duo, Ali Bastian and Brian Fortuna,.  When Ali and Brian developed a personal relationship during Strictly, Team Awesome was a comfortable concept, but after a private and dignified end to their romance, some supporters felt uneasy about the appropriateness of continuing with it. I agree; it isn’t about abandoning support for either Brian or Ali but essentially, Team Awesome is over and we need to move forward

What's on Stage Awards

Sadly, Brian Fortuna and Ali Bastian weren't victorious in the WOS "best newcomer" award for their efforts in BTF. Jonathan Groff won, (more famous for his role in Glee than in the nomination play) having led from the front since the voting opened, confirming the power of juvenile, technologically enabled, fan bases.
Brian and Ali's runner up position, with a sizeable 25% of the vote, was certainly due to the Martini Girl efforts of the FFs and TAs who "DID THEIR BIT" and voted "any time, any place, anywhere".  And now, it's time to allow Brian and Ali to move on as individuals

Kristina's Strictly Christmas

I was delighted that lovely Kristina Rihanoff won the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special with her celebrity partner, John Barrowman.  Not only did Kristina look stunning as always, in a red, wide-legged cat suit but her quick step choreography was perfect for both of their bright, sparkling personalities.  As this year’s Strictly season has been decidedly lack lustre (No Brian Fortuna, Too many props, Did you know Pamela Stephenson is a Doctor? And that her husband is Billy Connelly?), Kristina’s win added a quantity of some much needed gloss.  Let’s hope it heralds a new dancing dawn for Kristina during 2011

Shock Strictly Exit

Will the shock exit of Jimi + Flavia from Strictly this weekend have any impact on voting in future weeks?  I suspect not. I actually thought their partnership was quite forgettable compared to other couples but admit to being surprised at the outcome. Flavia’s loyal following was obviously not large enough. Or perhaps the credit crunch is now biting resulting in fewer multiple votes. I also think that a significant number of Strictly regulars are actively voting for Ann and Anton in protest at the bizarre and unnecessary changes introduced this series, including the departure of the talented Brian Fortuna

My love affair is over

My love affair with Strictly is over.  I was prepared to give the new format a trial despite unpalatable changes, including the vacuum left by Brian Fortuna but when the beautiful, talented dancer and choreographer Kristina Rihanoff was pared with Goldie, I didn’t hold out much hope for my long, meaningful relationship.  When poor Kristina was voted out first this weekend, the sparkle died and with it, my romance.  The changes have been a step too far and there’s no hope of a reconciliation. It feels like time to move on and reclaim my Saturday evenings with a good book

Letter from the UK?

Alastair Cooke’s “Letter from America” was something of an institution all my life. My family not only enjoyed the insightful social and political commentary but also the mundane observations of American life; New York pavements, holiday celebrations, hurricane warnings. That the perceptive insights into the culture of the USA were made by an outsider, an Englishman who never left, largely contributed to the programme’s success and longevity.   American Brian Fortuna, TV presenter and linguist would be the ideal presenter to reprise and modernise the original “London Letters” idea (from which “Letter from America” developed), but with a 21st Century twist

When you know you can't dance

I had an idea yesterday that there’s a gap in the TV reality market for a programme “So you know you can’t dance”. The delectable Brian Fortuna would be the show’s mainstay, with a plethora of FFs (everyone welcome, including those with limited mobility) dressed in “firm foundation” and sequins, boogying on down to Beyonce. It’d be far more entertaining and sincere than watching some celebrities on Strictly pretending that they really, really love the other contestants and that they and their partner are there merely for the “journey” and not because they actually want their hands on that glitterball.

Strictly Come Criticising

Strictly Come Dancing?. Well, accepting that there's a huge Brian Fortuna sized hole (that man had such an impact during his all too short tenure), I didn't completely dislike it.  I'm hoping it's like wearing new slippers; they're not as comfy ad the old ones but over time, you settle into them.
I liked the new set and some of the celebs seemed worth following (Ann Widecombe was a hoot).  But the props must go and soon, thankyou. And the costumes? Kristina's stripey number - Err....A dominatrix and Rupert Bear?? Oh purlease.  Wardrobe; please note.  Must do better

Please don't sue me

I had something of a shock when on dipping into Brian and Ali's thread on Digital Spy after a lengthy absence, I saw my name mentioned in connection with these Drabbles. I hastily scrolled back and eventually found a post which indicated that the poster had received a Google Alert, presumably because I'd made past references to Strictly et al.  I'd no idea that my Google Blogger musings could be discovered via Google (yes, I am that dumb) but thankfully, a hasty mental replay through my posts reassured me that I hadn't libelled anyone (yet). Discretion when scribbling certainly pays

STRICTLY COME DANCING IS BACK

Strictly Come Dancing has finally returned to our screens, but regrettably, without our “American Boy”, Brian Fortuna.  The departure of three well loved favourites and the sidelining of two others to a “dance troupe” in preference of relatively unknown newcomers has been the biggest change, resulting in an inevitable outpouring of vitriol. But although I’m of the “if it ain’t broke, then don’t fix it” school, I was prepared to be open-minded.  So….I liked the new set design, two of the new dancers seemed excellent and I was pleased Brucie and Tess returned.  But the new dance troupe? Oh dear!

Burn The Floor - 4th September 2010

This is longer than my usual drabble but I don't want to forget the wonderful occasion

Picture the scene; a warm, sunny afternoon, a Thames-side path at low tide, a chic wedding reception being hosted in a converted wharf side bar, and a smartly dressed 7 year old boy. Over the muted conversational hum, a sweetly clear voice asks   “Daddy? Why is that lady standing on a seaweedy pipe and hanging onto a bit of rusty old chain?“
And apart from a slight question mark over the inclusion of an appropriate adjective, (I would perhaps have used insane), I found myself asking the same question but mentally adding  “when she could be meeting Ali Bastian and Brian Fortuna at the stage door of the Shaftesbury Theatre instead”  For yes, that insane woman was me.  Now I know you are all asking yourselves what on earth this has to do with the final UK performance of Burn the Floor but bear with me.  I will get there.  Eventually
I’m sure that many women, faced with a day to themselves in London would think; “shopping” and head off to the consumerist temples of Oxford or Regent Street armed with fantastic plastic and an empty Harvey Nicks carrier bag purchased on ebay for £10.00.  (What is all that about?)  But not me. I have an addiction which can be summarised as a form of treasure hunting using a hand held satnav.  Usually our hunting grounds are the hills and dales of northern England so the chance to factor in a spot of urban geocaching before the BTF show was a chance not to be missed.  Consequently I’d planned my visit  to include maximum opportunities for furtling around grubby drain pipes in places of historic interest to find magnetic key safes.  (Well, it takes all sorts and let’s not forget that diversity is the TAFFs watchword).
Thus, it was a highly excited Glistener who ejected from the overnight bus at Victoria Coach station at 6am clutching her rucksack, GPSr and BTF banner!  Now luckily for me (and unlike Brian), I’m a morning person so arriving in London at the crack of dawn on a Saturday offered lots of exciting possibilities.  Geocaching takes you to all sorts of interesting and unusual places (remind me to tell you one day about my unscheduled tour of the Metropolitan Mounted Police Stables in Old Scotland Yard – amazing) so I was able to find a number of elusive geocaches hidden in public places.  These are normally too difficult to seek during the working day without causing a full scale security alert.  It also meant that the park and pavement cafes were less crowded so I’d time to sit and people watch while enjoying a coffee without feeling pressured to be somewhere else.  London is such an interesting, historic and culturally rich city, that despite being something of a country bumpkin, I have to agree with Samuel Johnson that “when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life”
But enough philosophising.  Let’s return to the Thames and my precarious position 5ft up on an old pipe reaching out for a magnetised film canister stuck to a mooring ring some distance above the high water line of the river.  Let me be clear; I hadn’t intended to find this cache during this visit  but the inaudible siren call of the cache -  “find me, find meeee” was so compelling, I was drawn to it inexorably like a moth to a flame. And that was my downfall (although thankfully not literally).  By the time I’d finished explaining my abnormal antics to the increasingly enthusiastic little boy and his father, rather too much time had elapsed for me to change my clothes, travel to the theatre and still be at the stage door for post matinee meets and greets. So, I have only myself to blame for missing the opportunity to meet Brian and Ali.  But maybe that was just as well.  I’m sure neither of them would have appreciated an impromptu Thames mud pack in advance of their final performance.  With a little less urgency, I headed for a suitable coffee shop, changed out of my slime covered trousers into clean clothes and wandered along to the theatre.
Now remembering the “curious incident of the aquarium in the night-time” from the March show at Blackpool Tower, I made sure I was in situ and highly visible in the theatre foyer well before show time. This gave me plenty of time to approach directly, several innocent non -TAFFs who were suitably bewildered at my advances.
“Am I a TAFF?  No, sorry. I’m from Dorset but my Uncle lived in Wales”
“Did you say Fortunas Fantastic?  Yes, I’m sure the show will be fantastic. Fortunately, I’m not sitting near you!”
So, it was with a little relief that I eventually spied several familiar faces across the lobby as the TAFFS began to arrive.  There was the usual chaos as people met and greeted each other but gradually, we were herded into the designated bar for pre-show drinks.  I didn’t mingle too much as it was evident that lots of people knew each other and wanted to catch up but in any event, I’m quite content people watching.   It was apparent from the excitement levels in the room that the evening was going to a roller coaster of emotions and I couldn’t wait for the show to begin.
We made our way into the delightfully elaborate Victorian auditorium to take our seats with a few minutes to wait before curtain rise so I was able to savour the expectant atmosphere that all theatres seem to radiate.  The show opened with an amusing little interaction between a couple of the cast and the audience, reminding us that  mobile phones and cameras were not permitted and then we danced into the routines.  Now I’m not given generally to fanciful musings but I can honestly say that when Ali and Brian came onto the stage, I felt a palpable wall of noise, emotion and something that I can only describe as  “positivity” sweep across the theatre from the TAs and FFs to the stage.  I’d like to think that all the dancers, musicians and singers on the stage felt the power and were energised by it for all their performances were simply electrifying.  The show was non stop with changes in tempo, music, costumes and dance styles.  I think it fair to say that the stage was smokin’ for the whole night.  Brian shone among the professional dancers and novice Ali more than held her own in the routines she performed in.  The finale was sensational and to see and hear the whole theatre standing up on their feet around me, cheering and applauding as the curtain rose and fell was something I’ll not forget for a long time.  I can only imagine the high that Brian, Ali and the rest of the company must have experienced as I felt as if I could have floated out of the theatre, despite my rucksack!
After the show was over, all too soon, I might add, I went round to the side door as the TAFFs had some gifts to give Brian’s mum, including a BTF banner I’d made.  Mrs Fortuna seemed to be very pleased with them and came across as a gracious, lovely lady. Sadly, I wasn’t able to stop to meet Brian and Ali as that seductive temptress, the overnight coach back home, was luring me back to Victoria so I slipped away unnoticed into the night.
There will be those of you thinking that this report actually has very little to do with BTF, Brian or Ali and you are entirely correct.  There is other, so much better reportage out there that provides all the essential detail on the stage performance (amazing), the costumes (stunning)), the music (I wish I could sing or play half as well) and our stars of the show (attractive, talented, affectionate and emotional) that I feel I can add little value to that.  But I wanted to share with you my wonderful, personal experience in my own way so you will have to excuse my eccentricities.  It was a day and night to remember and for the opportunity to be part of it, I’m so very, very grateful.

Burn The Floor

The stage was smokin’ hot on Saturday night for the final UK performance of Burn the Floor. The show was amazing and only greater input from Brian Fortuna and Ali Bastian would have improved it.  Brian shone among the professional dancers and novice Ali more than held her own during the routines she performed in.    I met my FF Fairy Godmother again, other TAFFs  and Brian’s mum briefly although travel arrangements prevented me from meeting  Brian and Ali themselves.  Even "riding the overnight coaches" couldn’t diminish my excitement at being able to share the experience. I’m so thrilled I went.

Strictly and Brian Fortuna

There’s been such a furore.  An unnecessary re-vamp of Strictly has resulted in hypnotically hipped Brian Fortuna leaving the show. Those of us who love his dancing, with both his professional partner, Kristina Rihanoff and his celebrity partners are devastated.  Brian’s reasons for leaving are entirely understandable: he turned his back on a nebulous role in a “pro” dance group, leaving him and girlfriend Ali able to concentrate on their July debut in the West End production, Burn the Floor.  But Brian’s departure is not just Strictly’s loss; sequins definitely won’t sparkle as brightly for the Fortuna’s Fantastics this winter

Shake That Banner, Girls

I’m so excited (It’s easily done) as Brian has commented on the FF banner, saying it’s dynamite.  (Thank goodness I didn’t throw coffee over it in Blackpool).  He, Ali and some of the FFs posed for a photo with it in Devon and now he’s been asking on FB when he’ll see it next (Birmingham and Dublin!) So, it’s down to those FFs lucky enough to see the Pro Tour to shake that banner and show the rest of the world that no one puts the FFs in a corner. I feel a little map to track progress is required

I have been Fortuna'd and it was Fantastic

This isn't my usual 100 word  Drivel ( whoops, I mean Drabble) but I don't want to lose this account of my night in Blackpool!!


Well I suppose being remembered as “The Person who Knocked Brian’s Coffee over the Autographing Table” is something, mortifying though it was, (and still is).  I’d just rather have been remembered for my incredibly witty or erudite comments, my incisive questioning or my never discovered before talent for Latin dancing that left all in the Ballroom cheering and clapping for more.  But somehow that was never to be my destiny!

But enough naval gazing.  You want to know if the night was a success and to that I can give a resounding YES.  I have been Fortuna’d and it was Fantastic. Coffeegate aside, I had a warm fuzzy feeling all night that had little to do with the couple of glasses of Moet (chilled and very pleasant indeed, thankyou), and everything to do with the company, the venue and the “Stars of our Show”.  Now, Gentle Reader, those of you who know me well will realise that I don’t do detail so although I will do my best, it may be necessary to cross reference this with reports from those dear FFs who actually paid attention.

Surprisingly, I was easily recognised outside the promenade entrance to the Tower as I waited for the rest of the team; perhaps my infamous green Helly Hanson fleece (as seen on FB) might have had something to do with it. OK, so it lacked something of the sparkly glamour that other show attendees brought to the ballroom but at least it got me noticed by the advance guard of FFs!  We soon had the Fortuna’s Fantastics banner (purple sequinned letters on white sheet), on show, giving the other arrivals a terrifying glimpse of what was to come.

Then just as we were beginning to get slightly concerned that our Mama Maz, keeper of the FF shoes, pressis and tickets was delayed, we were called inside to the other entrance via the Aquarium!!  My sense of a totally surreal experience was growing ever stronger. Thankfully, the rest of the team was waiting.  Hmm – note to self; check the number and locations of entrances in future.  It was Fantastic hugs all round and then a quick dash to our tables in the Ballroom.  The tables were on the side of the dance floor and close to the stage. The Ballroom itself was amazing – the ceiling, the ornate frescos, the essence of thousands of stolen kisses in its walls.

But enough, I hear you say, when are you getting to the important bits?  Well, I’m almost there.  We were soon entertained by what seemed to be the massed populace of Blackpool enjoying a wide variety of social dances (there were some pretty professional looking couples among the amateurs) before being treated to some amazing teenagers and a latin medley of Michael Jackson numbers,  And then came the moment we’d been waiting for. Or so we thought. It was Brian and Ali.  But they weren’t dancing…. Yet.  To whoops, hollers and much shaking of banners from some deranged women in the audience, they were escorted by the host to the back of the Ballroom for photos and autographs.  Now, Coffeegate aside, I think it must have been a pretty fraught experience for Ali and Brian too.  They hadn’t actually performed, it was Ali’s “first professional” gig and it was in a special place with lots of critics in the audience. Quite nerve wracking I should think. I was so impressed at the two of them being such good humoured sports. It can’t be easy, having mad women coming up and flinging themselves (and coffee) at you.
But I do believe, in my opinion, looking at Brian with my motherly eyes, he is a tad thin.  I wonder what anyone else thinks. I think he needs a good feed…. (and I am the woman to do it!  Although I am of a modest nature, I think it fair to say that my all butter, Victoria Sandwich cake has received critical acclaim from the U16 hockey and Second 15 rugby teams before now. I am sure Brian would like it). With such a punishing schedule ahead, we run the risk of seeing him disappear before our very eyes.  Any way, Ali and Brian were delightful.  Even to me

So, where was I?  Ah yes, back at our table in the Tower Ballroom, having scuttled back from the autograph table hanging my head in shame and clutching my infamous camera bag to my chest after having my photo taken with, Brian, Ali and Maz.   Sadly, I didn’t see any of the hand holding, bag carrying, door opening stuff that other eagle eyed FFs spotted after the photo session but that was no surprise.  Any time there has ever been a moment worth experiencing, I’ve always missed it. I was in the loo when Bruce Springsteen spoke to a group of my friends at a gig when I was about 17.  I was minding the bikes at the back of a shop in Scotland when Paul and Linda McCartney came in and had a chat with my husband. I was mopping up baby sick when Princess Diana came past on walkabout.  Such is life. Even Jimmy Clitheroe refused to give me his autograph after waiting for about 3 hours “because it was a Sunday”. Some of us are just not destined for bouquets.

But back to the dance floor.  Not only was our location perfect for tripping up serious dancers as they came down from the balconies to cha cha and foxtrot the night away but it meant we had the ability to mix freely and enjoy any amount of FF chat.  And the FFs themselves?  Well, they were all I’d hoped they would be: warm, kind, glamorous, interesting and friendly.  And just as importantly, mingling with the FFs meant that I didn’t have to “do” the Macarena or the Saturday Night Fever routine.  Gentle Reader, let me assure you that the world is not ready for that. However, other FFs held their own with well co-ordinated moves and jumps.  That some of the exuberance went unappreciated by the more serious type of dancer is neither here nor there. We enjoyed it.

And then we were teased with a little bit of Brian on the mike doing the introductions for the championship Latin formation dance team.  They were great and apparently, the guys were hot.  I wouldn’t know because, being a married woman for 25 years, naturally I never looked at any of their hips, torsos or guns which were clad in black lycra cat suits, slashed to the waist! I’m not sure why but they must have turned up the central heating in the Ballroom at this point as it seemed to get very warm all of a sudden…..
But around me were restless murmurings. When would we see our duo dance?  There was talk of storming the stage if they didn’t appear soon and then luckily the magic moment arrived; I didn’t want to have to hold back “those who shall not be named but they know who they are” any longer. Lights were dimmed and the spotlight was on.

To the accompaniment of much shrieking, Ali and Brian appeared. Stephen, the host, (who earned every penny of his money that night) introduced them and said they should have won Strictly.  How true! The bright yellow of the dress which Ali was wearing really suited her (See? We were right when we said she should have been dressed in bolder colours on Strictly). I think the dress “worked” when there was fluid movement and the floaty bits, floated.  They danced the VW wonderfully together and there was absolutely no impression at all that “it was the 299th time they had done it and it was all a bit routine”.   Infact, I really felt like they were dancing for each other.  It was truly magical and they totally radiated the beauty that is dancing in the arms of someone you love. I suspect there were a few misty eyes in the house.  I did notice a sweet little kiss at the end. I wonder if it was another defining moment for them both.  My mum and dad met at the Ballroom just after the war so I’ve always felt it’s a special place. You see? Inside my fibre pile clad exterior beats a heart of pure marshmallow. I am such a secret romantic.

Then we were back to the top of the stage and Brian (and Ali) on the mike answering pre-submitted questions. He is a natural; he obviously loves to entertain and is very comfortable in front of an audience.  He paid a tribute to Ali saying it was her first ever performance as a dancer – Ahh  and he asked if everyone was enjoying themselves.  We all cheered and he said he knew “we” (the FFs) were but what about everyone else?  There was a cute moment when he started telling us about DoW ( lots in the audience had watched it) and Ali pretended she needed a chair “if he was going to start telling one of his stories”.  Some one had asked a question about them getting married and Ali pretended to go off stage!  Brian side stepped answering it and rightly so.  Falling in love is a private thing and although I think a bit of fun teasing is OK I would have absolutely hated having my romance tracked so publicly and avidly.

There was a bit of banter and lovely endearments; honey, babe, sweetie. I sooo remember those days myself!!  Oh yes, Gentle Reader, I’ve had my moments.  Not many, it’s true, but none the less, they are there for the treasuring! “Chuckie, you put the tent and cooking stuff in your panniers and I’ll take the food and the sleeping bags” and “Thank you for clearing up the cat sick/dog poop/disembowelled dead furry creature (insert appropriate unpleasant matter as required). I would have done it, Love, but I didn’t know where the Dettol was.”  Who says romance is dead?

Anyway, I won’t bore you with any more of the question and answer details (as I can’t remember them) and you can watch it on the videos that other more technologically capable FFs ( i.e. everyone but me)  have made. Ali then went off stage and Brian talked about listening to Sunday with Sinatra with his dad (and Grandad got a mention too, I think). I loved that; I adore the way Brian is proud of his family and isn’t ashamed to embrace and share his warm, family upbringing. He said although he didn’t sing in public, the FFs had asked him to. (We had?) And then it was as if Frank was in the room with us singing “Almost like Being in Love”.  OK, there were no heavies or any one from the Mob present but you get my drift.

Brian’s actually got a great voice for that kind of song and it felt really relaxed.  He did a bit on stage and then came down to the floor.  Now I may be wrong here, as it’s not difficult for me to get confused, but I think he said something about being in love and asked was anyone in the room in love?  I’m sure I heard it as I went all warm and fuzzy  inside and thought Ahhh.  I must watch the video to check.  Then it was onto Fly Me to the Moon and Let’s face the Music and Dance.  It was then that Brian came over and kissed Dancing Girl before trying to tempt Roxxi on the floor.  But Brian had forgotten the immortal dialogue that needs to take place between every man and woman when issuing an invitation to dance; “You dancin’? You askin’? I’m askin’, I’m dancin’.”  Luckily Emma took the hint and ended up doing a twirl with him.  Naughty Brian took the opportunity to pat Emma’s rear of the year but she took it all in good spirit and resisted the urge to declare herself affronted! I can’t imagine why.

Then Brian went off and it was more social dancing and a series of amazing Latin dances by Rachel and Gregor, Latin dance champions.  They were seriously mesmerising.  Then Ali and Brian were back and Ali was barely wearing a fabulous blue black number and Brian had on his sleeveless top.  Hmmmm.  Moving swiftly on.  That Samba was immense.  It was simply stunning.  Brian’s hips, a cheeky little tap on Ali’s butt, those Samba rolls…. It was hot, hot, hot. The whole dance blew me away.   I never feel you can really gauge the “emotion” of a dance when you are remote from it and someone is controlling what you see via a camera as on Strictly but there was real raunch and passion there, and plenty of it.  Brian sent greetings and apologies from Kristina and thanked everyone. And then they went!

There was more social dancing and superb Latin displays but the evening was drawing to a close for most FFs.  We muscled the amateurs flocking to the dance floor out of the way (honestly, anyone would think they wanted to dance or something) and mustered for a few stage steps piccys before I ceremoniously handed the signed banner over to Maz.  Then it was back on with the fibrepile and out into the Blackpool night.  It was totally awesome.  I loved every minute of it, even Coffeegate.  After all, not everyone can say they’ve thrown coffee at Brian Fortuna.   I just hope they can get the stains out of the table cloth. Yes, it was a very different event from the one I originally booked for but it wasn’t a disappointment. Stephen, the guy from Feverdance who hosted it was so entertaining and hard working and all the dance acts were amazing. I was sorry when Kristina had to cancel (note to self; book  B and K tickets on pay day) but Brian and Ali were just incredible.  It was such a joy to see them dance together

At this point I’m going to do an emotional ITT Strictly Exit Highlights type bit.  I want say a huge thank you to Maz and Carol for all their kindness and organisational stuff.  I need to apologise to Bernie for trampling on her foot.  My size 9s take some controlling.  Thank you to Bexy for managing the banner and getting Brian’s paw print on it.  And finally thankyou to everyone in the FFs and TA. The whole Fortuna’s Fantastics thing has been wonderful. I really can’t describe how much of a positive buzz I have had from it. And it is all down to Brian and you guys (and Kristina and Ali too, to be fair)  This is all so out of character for me; I am not particularly out going or technologically able but yet there I was, in Blackpool, meeting forum friends and seeing Ali and Brian dance. I even sewed a banner and IRONED it for goodness sake.  I still can’t quite believe what has happened to me

And if you are STILL reading,  Thankyou. Glistener OUT!

An old sheet and some sequins

I’m pleased that I put the effort in and made a Fortuna’s Fantastics banner. Typically, I was on the last minute and although the bulk of the work was done in advance, I finished stitching it with less than 24 hours to go before Brian and Ali were to thrill us all in Blackpool on March 20th. It’s not a work of great beauty (I defy anyone to make purple sequinned letters on an old painting sheet look any thing but kitch) but it was certainly appreciated by the rest of the FFs when we stormed the Blackpool Tower ballroom.

Girl Friday’s Cookies

Today I made some cookies using a recipe given to me by Girl Friday, a Canadian friend, which set me thinking about the power of the internet. 18 months ago, I didn’t know Girl Friday existed and then, because there is actually a “Secret Sequinned Sarah” hiding in me, I “met” her (and many other wonderful people) across the internet through following Brian Fortuna and Kristina Rihanoff on Strictly Come Dancing. This electronic connection has actually been a life changing experience as Andy and I have taken up dancing, I’ve learnt how to use Facebook and cook Canadian. That’s Awesome

Girl Friday's cookies

1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla
1 egg
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick-cooking)
1 1/2 cups chopped dried apricots
4 slices of candied ginger, finely chopped

Preheat oven to 350 F, make sure one rack is in the middle position. Grease two baking sheets. Chop apricots and ginger and combine together in a separate bowl. Set aside.

Beat together brown & white sugar and butter with an electric mixer at medium-high speed until fluffy. Add vanilla and egg and beat until combined well.

In a separate bowl, mix together with a fork flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. Add to the wet dough in thirds, mixing well on low speed. Fold in rolled oats until combined. Fold in chopped apricots and candied ginger until evenly combined. I like to make sure to get a good bit of apricot and ginger in each cookie.

Spoon rounded teaspoons of dough, evenly spaced, on one of your baking sheets. Place in oven and bake for 15 minutes, or until golden brown. While the first sheet is baking, start spooning out the dough on your second cookie sheet. When the first batch is done, transfer them to cooling racks with a spatula. Pop in the second sheet and keep the cookie assembly line going! :)

Girl Friday and I both made about 3 dozen cookies with this recipe. They are sweet, chewy, spicy, and very yummy!