Capital Age Festival I mean. The topic for 2013 is Women’s Creativity. (Next year “Men’s Creativity. Why the segregation, I don’t know!). So today was a man poet up in time-warp Chingford. Creative it wasn’t. Womanly neither.
Now I can listen to a poet anytime. Neal Zetter, Chingford Man, must have ambled along the lane to reach his local library to be the comic performer that he is. Actually the billing hardly said much about poetry. I thought it was going to be an action-packed anecdotal show from Neal to show adult story-telling skills. Mind you, who knew the event was even on? Let’s remember that library staff are not community hub volunteers. They don’t need to exude enthusiasm for library extra mural activities as long as that workers’ clock keeps ticking away the hours.
The welcome cup of tea was almost the best part of the event. The poems began with an ode to Tea.
It transpired that the audience was not made up of poetry lovers. A library assistant interrupted Neal as he was in flow to deliver the photo-copied evaluation sheets half way through the session. The dial-a-ride driver came early to collect fifty per cent of the participants, ignoring the fact that 3.30pm was session-end
Now there’s a surprise, dial-a-ride. There’s a useless organisation. Dial-A-Ride.
Quote from the day “Because it can be a bit dodgy in Hackney”. (Say that to the London Fields hipsters!)
On the bus to Chingford (never usually an adventure) was a nutter with his tame rabbit. He put the rabbit on the luggage rack. I expected the driver to tell nutty to get off and take his rabbit with him. No. The driver said, “Oy mate! Take your rabbit off there in case he falls off”! The man, with very rabbit eyes, told rabbit to sit quietly on the seat. Rabbit did!
Nearly saw an elephant fly then.