MATISSE

Forget FOOTBALL
Let’s talk about ART.

This is my favourite painting.

Henri Matisse is my favourite artist and this is my favourite Matisse.

It isn’t political and it hasn’t got a message or hidden meaning. It has colour and energy and I could sit and look at it forever.

I’ve been lucky enough to see it twice. First - in an exhibition in Cateau - the dark northern town in France where he was born. Secondly, at the Royal Academy last year. I travelled to London specially to see the ‘Matisse and Textiles’ exhibition.

In both cases it was a surprise - I hadn’t expected this painting to be there.


Matisse was the king of line and colour and he can do no wrong for me. The cut outs of his later years and the Fauve paintings of the early part of the last century are all inspirational.

The last Matisse exhibition I saw was in Runcorn. I saw it advertised in Stalybridge library.

Amazing eh?
KAZ

Comme il faut.

Have you ever settled down in front of the match supporting one side and ended up supporting the other side with a passion?

Last night I felt that I should be supporting Spain as we were in Spain and watching Spanish telly (laSexta - channel 6).

Although being in Catalunya is a bit like being in Wales or Scotland. The locals think that Barcelona (not Spain) is their national team.

So I didn´t feel too disloyal when the gut feeling kicked in. Those French guys just have that ´je ne sais quoi´ .... the ´comme il faut´. They are footballing gods.

The Spanish are lads with daft haircuts and alice bands.

It was like Will Young v Bowie or Westlife v Oasis.

The French players are real men with complex facial expressions. With a Gallic shrug and a sexy pout they won me over. OK, Ribery wouldn´t win a beauty competition but he can sure play footy.

And Thierry .... he still has the Vavavoom for moi!

I still don´t get what Linda Evangelista saw in Barthez

But ´Chacun a son gout´
KAZ

COPA MUNDIAL

If your statcounter tells you that you have lots of visitors from Spain, don´t get too excited. It´s only ME! Have phone line will blog.

We are watching the World Cup on Spanish TV with Spanish commentators. They do well - ´Jocole, Jocole, Jocole, Teree, Teree, Teree´ - if it wasn´t for the Spanish bits in between you´d know exactly what was going on.

On Wednesday (24th) we settled down to watch Holland v Argentina. Out came the Dutch team in their all orange outfit and lined up alongside Argentina.

"Kev", I said, "I´m surprised that ALL the Dutch guys are black. Is Van Nistelroy on the bench?" Kev started to pontificate (he´s good at that) about the Dutch colonies and the fact that they appreciate their black players more than we do ..... blah blah blah. Er ... Kev.." Have you noticed that all the Argetine side are white - like very white?" "Oh yes (actually, it was yesh by now) it´s well known as the whitest country in South America."

I don´t know how long it took us to realise that wewere watching Ivory Coast v Serbia and Montenegro. And what a fine match it was?

Anyway, after yesterday´s goal, I´ve forgiven Becks for that disguting party and most other things. Toady we´ll support the Socceroos with Della my contemporary. Let´s hope Our Tim (Tim Cahill) is not substituted by a koppite bastard again or we´ll have to shout for Italy.

It´s not easy for Kev watching Crouch, Rooney and Gerrard. But, after half an hour with his friend San Miguel, he settles for yelling abuse at the ref just like all genuine footie fans.
KAZ

What do I think of it so far?

It´s 9 months since I became the YOUNGEST pensioner.

If I had consulted Severino Antioni at the time, I could be giving birth (ouch) to a young KAZ. Except that it wouldn´t be a young KAZ because it would be the biological child of an egg donor.

What was that woman (psychiatrist Patricia Rashbrook aged 63) thinking?

She doesn´t need a baby she needs a full frontal lobotomy.

She should be changing her life like me - not changing nappies.

So how do I like being a non working person?

I love being able to do whatever I want whenever I want to do it. This is the best bit.

I also enjoy reading fiction that´s not about killers and perverts. Strange how murder, blood, guts and post mortems are the essential antidote to stress at work.

Like Michael White (political commentator for the Guardian) I use my bus pass with pride.

I don´t have to agonise about exam results, Ofsted, league tables, marking and lesson preparation. I go to bed late, sleep well and get up early.

I do miss making my students laugh. I was a bit of a show off in the classroom. I´m quite shy in real life - honest.

Pal and ex colleague Shirley sent me an e mail after we got together last month. She said she´d never seen me so relaxed and happy.

Say no more.

KAZ

POSH?

I´m a bit of magazine addict. I bought this one because I fancied the free gift - sunglasses to cover most of my face.

Could a mag with Sandra bullock on the cover be all that bad?

YES!

Sandra was a cunning trick to get common folk to part from their money.

So what´s the new Tatler like?

It helps if you have a hyphenated name, especially if it´s Parker - Bowles. Emma Parker- Bowles is on page 62 singing the praises of the new Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder - max speed 196mph, 2 seater convertible - costs 131K. Tom Parker - Bowles is on page 68 telling us how to cook mackerel.
There´s barely room for all the hyphenated names on the party page. Thank Goodness Will Young is there to save space.

Then there´s Selina (Slinky) Tollemache (p77) who is going to be the next big pop sensation. She tells us that her success is thanks to perseverance and courage. Nothing to do with being the daughter of Lord and lady Tollemeache then. James Blunt look out!

I could go on.

Woman´s Own it ain´t. To misquote Joanna Lumley - you´ve got to be posh to be in the Tatler.
KAZ

Barry

Just a quick P.S. to the previous post:

It´s Barry Manilow´s birthday today and he is ...60!

And by another coincidence Ken Livingstone also celebrates today and he´s 61.

Would you believe it.?

And Kaz is in the middle - chronologically speaking that is.

KAZ

AUSSIE ASBO

So sexism is alive and well.

Have you seen those ads for Fathers day CDs that are on in the middle of Corrie?
There’s ‘Bez’s Madchester Anthems’ - with Morrisey, Blue Mondays, New Order and all the usual mancs. No Oasis though, I don’t think Liam and Noel liked their dad.

Then there’s ‘World’s Best Dad’ - 40 ultimate rock classics. Some of my faves there all right. Free, Rainbow (sorry) Bob Dylan, Patti Smith (yeah) Lou Reed. ‘Dad Rocks’ is even better with Bowie, Blondie and Buzzcocks … and Oasis as well.

All for the dads who are drinking beer in front of the World cup.

There’s no ‘Mum Rocks’.

So what does mum get? On mum’s day - there’s Liberace , Ronan Keating and Barry Manilow or the DVD of ‘Beaches’.

I used to spend hours looking for a witty card for my mum. They all wanted to thank her for changing my nappies and doing my ironing.

And speaking of Barry Manilow - Did you read about the town near Sydney where they are trying to get rid of rowdy youths from the local car park by playing Barry Manilow tracks over the loudspeakers. It’s an Aussie ASBO. They used Bing Crosby last year and it worked a treat.

What would get rid of me? Shania O’Twain, Daniel O’Donnell or Celine O’Dion.

Heather Mills McCartney again - SORRY

I know I’ve already had my say about Lady Heather and Bert - but I had another thought. Well TWO actually.

1: I remembered how we all used to despise Saint Linda with a passion. Paul was quite cute in those days (1969) so I suppose we were just jealous. Linda posed a particular threat to us Brits because she was American. When Paul let her pretend to play the keyboards in ‘Wings’ we wanted to kill her. Wings didn’t have any female fans.

I don’t know when we started to love Linda. I think it was after she died.

2: We now know that Heather (‘una chica mala’) wasn’t a prostitute because she said so. The pics in the red tops are from ‘ an instructive sex guide not pornography’.

But - she is LADY Macca. So I’m wondering about the spouses (if they exist) of Shirley Bassey, Helen Mirren and Kelly Holmes? What do they get out of it?
Is David Furnish Lady Elton John or Lord Consort Elton John?

Don’t we have an equal ops law here?

OK What I really mean is .... if you must deal out these stupid antiquated ‘Honours’ why do the female hetero spouses like HMM have to get a title as well?
Just scrap the whole thing!
KAZ

I am CURIOUS

One thing I miss about work is the gossip. Science staff and technicians are notorious for huddling round the fume cupboard for a furtive ciggy whilst spreading the scandal .

Professors at the University of Oklahoma have ‘proved’ that slagging others off makes you more friends. Be nice and be lonely.

So when does ‘interest’ or ‘curiosity’ become nosiness? It’s a fine line - but I like asking questions and I’m not dead yet.

I read in a novel recently (‘Flight of the Maidens’ by Jane Gardam) that Quakers don’t ask personal questions - even your name. They believe that if you want to tell you will. Eileen’s daughter aged 34 went for a smear test and discovered she was 5 months pregnant. The baby’s just had his 2nd birthday, but Eileen still hasn’t asked who the dad is. Oh and Eileen's certainly not a Quaker.

Neither is Kev - he knows the word blog and he knows I have one. But he doesn’t know where it is or what it’s called. He hasn’t ‘googled’ gorgeous, petite, birdwatching, ex chemistry teacher. Or even shortarsed opinionated pensioner.

I remember a strange film called ‘I am Curious - Yellow'

KAZ

KNICKERS

I always dread my bag being opened at customs. Not because I’m carrying any illegal substances but because I wear big knickers.

You may remember that I’m just a mere slip of a person. The words ‘voluptuous’ and ‘curvaceous’ do not apply to me. I just hate tight pants. I don't enjoy having my lower half crushed in a vice like grip. So I buy them 2 or 3 sizes too big.

A student of knickers should visit Primark (OK I know I’m always on about Primark - it’s my short cut from the bus station). For less that 2 quid you can fulfil your wildest knicker dreams. They sell thongs, G-strings, French knickers, cami-knickers, boxers, elasticated support pants, bikinis, strings, tangas and just pants.

Wearing one of their G-strings trimmed with lace would be like having barbed wire between your buttocks.

I used to wear support knickers - but V.P.L. was a problem when I had to turn round to write on the board. Lesley recommended the ‘cycle shorts’ that she buys from M&S - they hug you cruelly from waist to knee. No VPL but they had to come off before lunchtime. Poor Eileen did her back in at her Dad’s funeral by pulling them up too quickly in the ladies.

So I’ve tried all sorts of ‘below the belt underwear’ and simply settled for cotton briefs designed for a bigger person.

If necessary I could carry home several plastic bags of white powder inside them.

Searching for a picture for this post was very …er… interesting. I learnt a lot!

Suffice it to say that I am very surprised at ‘Google’.
KAZ

COLOURS

Have you looked at the Dulux colour chart recently? You won’t find blue, yellow or green. But you will find Utopia, Waffle, Crave, Lulu and Pashmina. I’m not making it up!

We didn’t have colours in the fifties - everything was in black and white.

Gradually we discovered shades like charcoal grey, olive green and donkey brown. Later on, strawberry pink, burnt orange and african violet sent us into paroxysms of excitement. I’ve always loved Smarties.

Anyone choosing a colour now would be reminded of Buridan’s ass who, when asked to choose between 2 bales of hay, starved to death. That’s why I always wear black, white or grey.

Lots of chemistry is colourful - especially the transition metal compounds - cobalt blue, nickel green, chrome yellow. I used to encourage my students to describe the colours creatively.

One year the A level examiners’ report said - and I quote - ‘The colours of the rainbow will suffice. Candidates should not be encouraged to use such terms as burgundy, aubergine or urine coloured in their answers’. It was obviously written by a bunch of sad lads wearing smelly Harris tweed jackets with test tubes sticking out of the pockets.

I won’t say more on the subject of Chemistry examiners.
They could teach Bill Oddie’s badgers how to pick nits!
KAZ

Another Place

It was the last day of half term, so we went for a day out in Kev’s white van.

We revisited ‘Another Place’ - 100 life size, cast iron figures on Crosby Beach. Antony Gormley (of Angel of the North fame) cast them from moulds of his own body. Their presence is exciting and strangely reassuring. They disappear when the tide’s in.

You have to feel awe and admiration for someone with the confidence and vision to produce an installation like this.

Before Crosby, they were in Germany, Belgium and Stravanga in Norway where Frank from our flats goes to visit his brother.

We first saw ‘Another Place’ in summer, when I took the photo above. I also have a photo of me standing next to one of the figures and reaching no higher than his chest. Now I can look down and pat him on the head. Another figure had ‘grown’. No doubt some boring geography teacher could stroke his chin and explain it in terms of sand deposits.

Most of the men now have mysterious, marine green stuff growing on their nether regions. They’ll need a shower before they go to New York in November 06.

There were only a few oyster catchers around so we drove to Marshside in Southport where we were totally knocked out to see some Avocets chasing a hare away from their chicks.

The avocet is the emblem of the RSPB.

TWO amazing sights in one day.
KAZ