The Edge Magazine December 2020

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 11:37 Page 4

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H H H H H H H HTOM ALLEN H H H H So isn’t it rather a case of which meaning we H H I amH alwaysH happy H to listen H Someone to, choose to interpret?

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H delivery, H H often dripping H in sarcasm.

I simply do MacGowan and H H Hnot believe H Shane H

H H H H H H H Kirsty MacColl were referring to either, as quite H H H HH H H H H H H CHRISTMAS MOVIES patently neither fit, and in a sane world, that has H H H H H SYMMETRY H H H point.

H ‘On Hthe first Apparently there’s a Christmas movie channel surelyH gotH to be HtheH defining H dayH ofH lockdown....’

H H H (sung H to H the Crimbly movies on some H more, H H there’s an H argument H H that says the tune Hof ‘On I pruned that plays soppy, limp What’s H H the firstH day H of Christmas’) H Hsort of H a loopH 24/7.

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H slots H H theH verse H as Hsnugly H as the H Hlast piece Halready seenH about 30 Hof the buggers H H and at NowH if that’s symmetry, I don’t know into H H not Hperfect H H H H H H puzzle, H Hwhereas H H H of the H H other H ofH writing, H H it’s only H 10th H November. theH time ofH a jigsaw neither H what H is?

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H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H options do.

H Hwe just leave H H stop H H H H H VACCINE H H H H H H H H BEIGE H H H So please, can’t itH alone and H H H H H H H H HI genuinely H H H H H H H H H H H H H H isn’t H It’s grim having aH hospital appointment, it? couldn’t believe it when I heard that this incessant fad for air-brushing.

H H H H H H H H H H H like going H H H I generally don’t anywhere near ’em. the Tefal Heads of the world had united and,

H H H H But H I Hhad H to recently H H and I spotted H an old guy by jove, they’ve only gone and cracked it.

NIGELLA H H H H be breaking H H H H the H H She’sH not stupid, H Hguys.

H H She H knows H H exactly H H what H H Hcap,H beigeH jacket H and with white hair, beige However, I won’t open Hchampers H H until the H needle H H is finally inH my Hshe’s H H doing andHwhat effect H she’s having H H on us H Htrousers H H heading H H for H the H exitH doors H (lucky beige H H and I Ham immune H to theH biggest, H Hall, as we H sitH there, semi-aroused, H H H dribbling.

H H him) H while H Han old woman was parked on a bed, arm/ass H H H H H H H H H H H H H H Hin aH corridor, H H screaming H H either H “Doctor!”

H H H at baddest, bastard of a ‘bug’ that has ever H H during H H my lifetime.

H H H H within H range H H H a stethoscope H H around H H H GEOFFREY H H PALMER H H H OBE anyone with stalked theH earth H H H H Hor “Nurse!”H to H anyone H H wearing his/her neck, Great actor.

Very ! ! sad to hear ! of his ! passing. !!!

H H H SMILEY H H H H H H scrubsH and a pair of matching Crocs. ! ! this ! year.

Yet another one !to leave us H H H to smiley, H H Hsmiley, Carol HIt’s all Hvery H H depressing H H on so many levels and Whatever happened THE EDGE Chelmsford CM2 6XD you cannot help think: ‘There but for the grace 0 77 646 797 44 Smillie? shaun@theedgemag.co.uk of god...’ in but a few short years time.

She was everywhere. Now she’s nowhere.

The Edge Editor’s Column

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:06 Page 5

When The Edge first saw those TV adverts for ladies TENA pants/underwear, it honestly thought it was the work of a true copywriting genius.

However, it seems many women weren’t so keen, particularly new mums. And it was this line in particular that ruffled a few feathers: “I knew being a mum would hold a few surprises....but nobody mentioned incontinence.”

Thing is, why was there such a kerfuffle, as it is only ‘a little bit of wee’ after all?

Cute as this recent news may be, Colchester Zoo was forced to close throughout November, yet behind closed doors their animals still all obviously needed to be cared for, and they were.

But it all costs money, yet their tills haven’t been ringing of late.

So perhaps some of you animal lovers out there might like to buy an annual Zoo Pass, or maybe purchase either an animal adoption or gift voucher for a friend or family member this Christmas?

Alternatively, you can donate online into the zoo’s Emergency Operating Fund.

Because the Coronavirus pandemic has adversely affected more than merely pubs and restaurants, you know.

‘A baby rhino is not just for Crimbly’.

At the tender age of 59-and-a-half, I, your editor, am happy to hold up my hand and report that my bladder is nowhere near as strong as it used to be. These days, when I want a pee, I really need to have one, or else.

Yet I accept it as merely the passage of time that presumably affects the vast majority of folk my age.

So maybe it’s young mums who find the matter embarrassing, as it does seem to be that around 90% of them suffer incontinence post childbirth?

Either way, this publication still thinks whichever advertising agency thought up the slogan for TENA (it may be B2B?) inevitably deserves a gong as it 100% (a) gets you thinking about the product, and (b) actually empowers women, The Edge would surmise, as it really doesn’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.

P.S. The Advertising Standards Authority said TENA’s advert did not “explicitly claim that incontinence is an inevitable part of childbirth”, but was merely used as an example.

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:06 Page 6

WHAT THIS PICTURE SAYS TO THE EDGE...

THE GREATEST LINE EVER, BAR NONE! Well, there’s only so long you can put these things off, isn’t there?

And we were very lucky with the weather as it hissed it down the following day.

But what can you do when your wife’s got a bit of a crush on the very man himself, Jimmy Doherty, who we caught a fleeting glimpse of while we were there, so she was well chuffed.

Little tip: Follow your car’s SatNav if you do decide to visit Jimmy’s Farm, located in a place called Wherstead in Suffolk, rather than taking any notice whatsoever of AA Routefinder, like your editor had unfortunately Googled and insisted upon trusting. (Tut, men and their directions, eh?).

It’s a tenner apiece to get in if you book online, only we didn’t, as we’re ‘old school’, so in that case you have to pay an extra quid each for their inconvenience. First things first, we had a couple of bacon brioche baps and they were truly ’andsome. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that we will definitely return there just for their bacon sarnies, as you don’t enter the farm proper until after the field kitchen and restaurant (the latter was closed when we visited, but I think it’s back open now).

So give it a whirl. Kids or no kids, you’ll definitely enjoy yourselves. (See more pics on page 30)

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:06 Page 7

Have you heard the one (surely by now) about Tilly and Kieran, readers? They’re a pair of newly-weds who have become, The Edge kids you not, Mr and Mrs White-Christmas after tying the knot in a pre-lockdown ceremony quite recently.

Tilly Christmas and Kieran White, who met at school when they were just 12, got married at the Roman Baths in Bath.

Tilly (now 20), said: "I really wanted to keep my surname and it just so happens that the man I wanted to marry has the perfect surname to go with mine."

Their original plans to get married in July, at another venue, were postponed due to you-know-what.

Tilly continues: "It actually took us quite some time for the penny to drop that our surnames came together the way they do. In fact, we only first realised it at our secondary school prom when a friend of ours uploaded pictures onto social media using #WhiteChristmas."

Really? Doh! The wedding service for this Bridport couple (where the TV series Broadchurch was filmed) was performed beside the Great Bath, with a reception for 15 guests, as opposed to in it.

Under England's most recent four week lockdown rules, weddings are not allowed to take place apart from in exceptional circumstances.

But isn’t it sweet that every single Crimbo from here on in (so long as they don’t get divorced), Tilly and Kieran are guaranteed a white one.

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 10:34 Page 8

Christmas decorations in the eighties were as garish as the fashions. We had foil ceiling chains in every colour imaginable, concertina santas, and there were even trees made entirely of tinsel. No one had ever heard of a Christmas colour scheme; if you had it, up it went. The warm white vs bright white debate wasn’t even an issue because everybody considered multicoloured lights to be the epitome of festive sophistication.

Gift wrapping designs were as crazy as the hairstyles back then; with neon poinsettias being the proverbial equivalent of the infamous ‘flock of seagulls’.

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MELLY MOO BAILEY As we roll into the final month of what has indisputably proven to be the strangest (and longest) year any of us are likely to remember, we find ourselves facing yet another brand new, unprecedented phenomenon: “Coronamas”.

As we prepare to (hopefully) escape from Lockdown 2, at the time of writing the rumour mill is already rife about what December will bring in the form of Bojo’s latest ‘briefing’, and crucially, whether we will actually be able to share our turkey and trimmings with our nearest and dearest on Christmas Day. It is somewhat ironic that this year, which has been full of doom and gloom for so many, should be ending with such a poignant, bygone twist.

Reflecting on recent Christmases gone by, I think it is safe to say that by now most of us would be embroiled deep within the usual consumerist frenzy, which has dominated the festive season with increasing ferocity over the past decade.

Labour-ing over endless lists involving gifts, cards, menus, table centrepieces, and wondering if there will be enough food, when in reality we probably have enough to feed a small country, whilst debating whether 4 different flavours of matchmakers is sufficient.

In many ways though, this year of the Coronapocalypse has forced many of us to re-evaluate and subsequently we have realised that no amount of online shopping can make up for the presence of our loved ones. Video calls, however well executed, just cannot replace general office banter. Virtual quizzes cannot substitute evenings spent laughing across the table with friends. In truth, nothing can rival being free.

So we all approach the Christmas period hanging desperately onto the ferocious optimism that we will be able to spend it how and with whom we choose, but also with a tangible degree of uncertainty at the prospect of what the new year will bring. More importantly, for once we are focused not on what we must buy, but on who (if anyone) we will have around us.

In a year that has been anything but magical, I am determined to make this the best possible Christmas for my children. I want to be present in every moment and immerse us all in the magic, as I fondly remember some of the highlights from my own childhood Christmases throughout the 1980s.

Page 8

There was no great debate about which presents were from Santa, which were from parents, and which were from great aunt Gertrude etc. Does this mean we had far fewer? I certainly don’t remember going without. I still vividly recall the year I got the highly coveted Cricket doll which took 10 size D batteries (they lasted about an hour) and weighed the same as a large bag of sand.

I also remember searching the skies for Santa on Christmas Eve, and we didn’t even need an international space station passing by to believe that the magic was real.

The iced white Christmas fruitcake, that you didn’t actually like, but which was practically an institution. The frenzied circling of chosen Christmas viewing across all 4 channels in the Radio Times. To put it simply, if they weren’t showing it, we weren’t watching it. The invention of video plus, which heralded such promise, unfortunately ended in a disastrous cycle of missed beginnings and premature endings.

The tub of chocolates that anyone was forbidden to even look at until Christmas Eve, and the jelly fruits, which looked lovely arranged in a perfect round fan, but which no one touched because they were actually pretty inedible.

The infamous blue tin of Victoria shortcake biscuits (the only exact same biscuit to come in five different designs) which would subsequently be filled with sewing materials and be the source of bitter disappointment on countless occasions in the future every time you came upon it.

It is these Christmas memories that I look back on with great affection and nostalgia, and they are never focused on whether the tree was colour coordinated or whether we all had matching pyjamas, but on the things that made us laugh and, most importantly, brought us together.

As a parent, one of the most bittersweet things is the knowledge and understanding that one day our children will grow out of the magic of Christmas (at least in the infantile sense). They will grow out of leaving their mince pie for Santa and carrots for Rudolph, and sleepily listening out for sleigh bells. But as parents, we never grow out of seeing their euphoric excitement as they wake up on Christmas morning and see their stockings filled and faded ‘snow’ footprints on the floor. So all we can do is treasure every single Christmas we have of this beautifully innocent phase.

So this Yuletide I aspire to not only be comfortably ensconced on my new sofa in my newly decorated grey and teal kingdom, but also fully immersed in the true magic of Christmas, which I have realised, all thanks to Coronamas, is really anything and anywhere, as long as I am with those whose presence (and not presents) fills my heart.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Follow Mel on Instagram at @everyonefed_nobodydead and on Facecock at https://www.facebook.com/everyonefednobodydead/

The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:07 Page 9

As well as not being any good at cleaning cooker hob surfaces, the list is positively endless as regards the tasks that I am completely hopeless at.

For instance, whenever we have a power-cut at ‘Edge Towers’, I cannot even reset the clocks on our microwave & oven combo (one clock per item). How bad is that? Why should it be a ‘wife ting’?

Then there’s the headboard on our bed, which is not a headboard as such, but something far more akin to what you might find on certain designs of sofa, whereby there are two individual head-rests, one per incumbent (whereas swingers beds possibly contain four). Just this morning I happened to accidentally nudge the wife’s one forward, but could I get it back into its desired position, and we’ve had the bed a good few years now? No, could I buggery. I tried to fathom it while Mrs Edge was in the shower, but all to any avail? Yet when she waltzed back in, all clean and shiny as a brand new pin (why a pin?), she sorted it in an instant and looked at me with well deserved contempt.

Which is because I’m so rubbish.

And get this - I kid you not - I once got an electric shock while I was up in the loft busy cutting through a cable while the power was still switched on!

I brought this product to Mrs Edge’s attention, due to the fact that I’d featured Turd Polish in the October editions, thinking it was of similar ilk. Only she picked up a tub and started reading on the back of it (something yours truly never bothers to do) and it promptly went into our shopping basket (we only use baskets in these types of establishment, I’ll have you know, as we only ever purchase selected ‘this, that and the other’ items, rendering a trolley completely unnecessary).

However, later that evening we prepared a Spag Bol for dinner (and a belter it was too) and the top of our hob, which is black glass, got proper splattered. So out came the Elbow Grease and waddayaknow, Mrs Edge was “well impressed” with the results. So do give it a try, readers.

Because it’s really hard to achieve a non-smear shine on glass-topped hobs, isn’t it (even I know that as I’ve attempted it a time or three)?

But this stuff is a smooth (power) paste, looks a bit like Polyfilla, smells lovely and lemony and, what’s more, has given us our shiniest, non-smeary hob surface since new. (Can you BEAT THAT, readers?)

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:07 Page 10

W

ith cinemas having shut up shop again, and, at the time of writing, no clear date of re-opening, it’s time to look at what there is to watch at home on streaming, reports Andrew Eley. However, this time around I have been looking at some of the festive films you can watch right now, along with a few recommendations of other movies to view over the festive period.

Midnight at the Magnolia (Netflix) When I said I would review the latest Christmas films available on streaming for this feature, I didn’t quite realise how much trash I would end up having to watch.

So when this new Christmas (technically New Year, but close enough) rom-com popped up on Netflix, I knew I would definitely be ‘taking one for the team’.

Early on I could tell this was going to be bad, with two of the most annoying performances I have seen this year from it’s leads, especially Evan Williams as radio DJ Jack, who acts like Jim Carrey on a sugar-rush.

Nobody in real life acts like this, surely, but if they did, you certainly wouldn’t want to be around them.

The story (of what there is) centres around Jack and his co-host Maggie, who plan to fake a relationship whilst at a New Year party held at the Magnolia Jazz Bar in a bid to boost ratings. Yep, that’s it. There are absolutely no surprises and with its ‘U’ rating, it’s as safe and predictable as you can possibly get. Are there any plus points? Well, I suppose the couple’s fathers who own the jazz club are quite likeable, and the fact that it is so harmless it might make it enjoyable fluff for the right viewer. But this is ultimately a Hallmark style romance that is so sickly sweet it’s like downing a great big mug of hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows on top, only to make you feel queasy afterwards.

Jingle Jangle (Netflix) Remember in kid’s films from the 80’s and 90’s, where our young heroes would triumph over adversity through challenges and setbacks, learning from their mistakes and overcoming their fears? Films such as The Goonies, Labyrinth, ET, The Explorers, Jumanji, The Karate Kid and many more. Ahh, I miss those days.

They taught us that life can be challenging, unfair, dangerous and frightening and that if you want something you have to work hard for it.

Not anymore. These days, if you’re a kid in a movie, you can pretty much achieve anything because you can just believe. In fact, if I had a quid for every time someone said, “You just have to believe” in this flick, I could easily buy myself enough pints to have a raging hangover the next morning - lockdown rules providing.

Jingle Jangle is a strange musical in which a young girl can perform impossible equations, easily break into enemy headquarters, throw four snowballs with one hand and even fly, simple because she ‘believes’ and never, ever looks in the slightest bit of danger.

The story is threadbare at best. A once great toymaker has his fantastical toy designs stolen by his apprentice and subsequently falls into hardship, whilst his apprentice grows rich. So his young granddaughter motivates him to build a brand new toy that will make him Page 10

successful all over again and restore the toymaker back to his former glory. Which may be a nice idea, but we get random song and dance routines thrown in that seem totally out of place (even the toymaker seems bemused when a musical number breaks out), not to mention a series of unexplained events that exist simply to drive the plot forward from one scene to the next.

Where, for example, did the toymaker get the ‘magical juice’ from which brings toys to life? Dunno. Why doesn’t he use this again after his plans are stolen?

Haven’t a clue. How come people can fly simply because they ‘believe’? Search me, guvnor. Why doesn’t the fashion, technology or architecture change over the years? Who knows?

This film makes very little sense and when I thought it had finally finished, there was still another 30 minutes to go. What else could they tell, I wondered? Well, not much, as it turned out, as it eventually grinds to a halt after kids everywhere have already fallen asleep.

Which is a shame, as clearly a lot of care and attention went into its making, with a wonderfully Christmassy world that looks like a classic Christmas card come to life. Though sadly, it is ultimately way too long to keep the attention of young viewers, whilst being far too predictable (and lazy) to entertain adults.

Klaus (Netflix) I am pleased to say that after a couple of Netflix Christmas turkeys, we finally have a real Christmas cracker in the form of this wonderful animation. It actually came out in 2019 but slipped under the radar for most people, until the film gained a significant buzz at the Oscars earlier on this year, unfairly losing out for best animated feature film to the generic Toy Story 4.

But I had been waiting to watch it since then, as for me, watching a Christmas movie after Christmas has passed is like eating a Christmas pudding you find at the back of your cupboard in February. It just isn’t the same.

Klaus is a very clever tale that offers a possible origin story to how Santa Claus first came to be.

A bratty and entitled heir to a vast postal empire is shipped off to a run down town in the back end of nowhere by his frustrated father, in a bid to help his son make something of himself. Whilst out there, he encounters a reclusive woodsman who also happens to be a great toymaker. Through a series of events, the two work together to bring joy to the children in the neglected town, which in turn begins to heal long-standing rifts between the town clans who reside there.

It’s a classic story of redemption, the healing power of acts of kindness and letting go of pain from the past.

Quite an achievement for an animated children’s movie, I think, and this will appeal to all ages and will almost certainty have adults shedding a tear at the end.

The next few films are not Christmas movies but are worth checking out over the festive season if you get the chance.

The Secret Garden (Now TV) Having not seen any previous versions of The Secret Garden, nor having read the book, I am reviewing this film based purely on my impression of this version alone.

I was expecting it to be a rather light family film, but I guess, like other children's literature from it's era, there are quite a lot of dark and challenging themes here, and I found the tone of the film to be to edging towards horror, and therefore possibly too scary for very little ones, although I certainly appreciated it.

The use of CGI to create living and breathing fauna that reacts to the children in the titular secret garden is open to audience interpretation (and also to the chagrin of die hard fans), but I didn’t mind it as it begs the question: ‘Is this really a magic garden, or is it simply the children's imagination we are seeing?’

Although the film aims for a feel good ending, I couldn't

help shake the thought that this was actually a very dark tale about loss, grief and even child abuse.

A young boy is kept locked up for years in his room and told by his controlling father he is sick, when he is not.

There seems to be a bigger story that is untold here, which is probably in the novel, and at a brief 90 minutes it really could have done with some extra breathing space to develop the main characters journey. I still enjoyed this, despite its brevity and sudden ending, although fans of the book may have a very different view.

Greyhound (Apple TV) After all these Christmas and kids films, I needed a pallet cleanser, and this was a great movie to do just that.

It is also an important film, albeit for the wrong reasons.

Greyhound was originally due to be released in cinemas during the summer. But with lockdown, Sony simply flogged it off to the highest bidder, and Apple stepped in to claim the spoils. But who has Apple TV? And because it’s on there, it will never be released on Blu Ray or be on terrestrial television. So a great film like this is lost in the streaming wilderness. That is the potential future of film if cinemas do not survive.

The story is a very simple one. An allied convoy is hunted by a wolf pack of German U-boats while Captain Krause (Tom Hanks) and his crew aboard the battleship 'Greyhound' strive to protect them.

It's a relatively short film, which nearly all takes place from the viewpoint on the decks of the Greyhound, making for an immersive and exciting drama, which dispenses with character development to focus almost entirely on the tactical game of cat-and-mouse taking place upon the high seas.

It’s a crying shame this film didn't get a cinema release as it was clearly made for the big screen, being big and bold with its visuals and featuring a pulsating soundtrack to help ramp up the tension and excitement.

It tuned out to be one of my favourite films of 2020, but the only way you can watch it is to get Apple TV. So I recommend joining up for a month, as it’s only £4.99 and then cancelling, which is what I did. Only do try and watch it on the biggest screen you can, turned up LOUD (or wear some decent headphones) rather than on your phone or tablet, as you will be doing the film an injustice.

On The Rocks (Apple TV) If you subscribed to Apple TV for a month to watch Greyhound, you may as well watch this one too, although this did get a very brief cinematic release at some cinemas in the short time they re-opened.

Sofia Coppola re-teams with Bill Murray (after Lost In Translation) for this breezy drama that has a philandering father (Murray) and his long-suffering daughter (Rashida Jones) following her husband (Marlon Wayans) around New York after they suspect he may be having an affair with a new girl at work.

This movie has received generally high praise from the critics, but less so from it's audience. This isn't really a comedy, although it has comedic moments. I felt it was more a warning on being careful what you go looking for, as you may just find it. Our fears and suspicions can become a self-fulfilling prophecy if we allow them to get the better of us.

Written and directed by Coppola, its easy to believe that she may have struggled with such anxieties herself.

The film is quite light viewing though, and Murray looks like he is having more fun here than I have seen him have in ages. Tanned, well-dressed and zipping around New York in a red sports car, he brings a real charm to the movie. Ultimately the story could have just been a straight up Adam Sandler comedy, particularly when they head to Mexico, and I half expected to see Rob Schneider jump out of the bushes. Nevertheless, this is an enjoyable film that retains Coppola's deft touch at making boozy nights out look gorgeous. But please, let's not have Bill Murray sing in a film again. Ever.

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the best gift we can all receive this Christmas; the gift of having family members alive and well, while PlayStations/iPhones/laptop/toys can all be replaced at some point. Lives can not.

GIANT WOTSITS Have you tried them yet? They are truly our familyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s guilty pleasure at the moment.

Wotsits were always a favourite of mine as a kid, especially the cheesy ones. Only now they have brought them out four times the size and made them fiery hot and spicy. Mmmmmm, yum-yum.

ITâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S A PROPER CHRISTMAS CARRY ON Who, reading this, is looking forward to Christmas this year?

Be honest, are you excited?

Or are you fearful?

Perhaps you have even written it off already?

Or are you determined to make the most of a pretty shitty unprecedented situation?

I'm writing this article on the pretext that we really will come out of lockdown on 2nd December and hoping we are all able to get something as close as possible to a normal Christmas to look forward to. But, of course, that could all have changed by the time these editions come out.

And what if it does (change)?

What if we are told we can't see other members of our family, or share Christmas with our friends?

And what if the threat of lockdown does indeed carry on all the way through until March of next year, meaning that 2021 will start exactly as 2020 has finished?

It's certainly a possibility, isn't it?

Having said all that, personally, I believe that this Crimbo could turn out to be a very, very good one indeed, if we go back to what Christmas really ought to be all about, which is being thankful and having/showing appreciation.

Appreciation of each other, of life itself, and being thankful for what we have, whilst also sparing a thought for those who are far less well off than the vast majority of us, of which there are sadly many.

We have already told our family not to buy us any presents this year, but have promised to meet up once lockdown is out of the way and hopefully celebrate being able to spend time all together, as surely that will be www.theedgemag.co.uk

I've always been more of a savoury kind of guy than a sweet chap, it has to be said.

So hopefully we will have plenty of bags of Wotsits plus many other goodies to enjoy whilst burning the calories watching Christmas TV together.

Speaking of which, I'm already counting down the days to our traditional Christmas Eve viewing of surely the greatest

Yuletide movie of all time, Die Hard. In fact, I might even push the boat all the way out this year and do a double bill with that other great Christmas movie, Die Hard 2 - Die Harder.

Yippee ki ya.

Fingers-crossed too that all the Boxing Day football will be available for free for all footie fans to enjoy, as Boxing Day footie is as traditional to many people as Santa coming down the chimney and emptying his sack.

Ofstrand Limited is a specialist main contracting/fit-out company, providing diversified services to a superior quality within the construction industry.

As a company we offer a vast array of services, from principal contracting, commercial fit-outs, residential fit-outs and management of individual packages. We have the expertise to control the construction phase of a project. When it involves more than one contractor, this will be to plan, manage and co-ordinate all aspects of the project. We of course also cover small works and ensure that these types of work are given just as much attention to detail as any other project we manage.

Whatever you end up doing, whoever you get the chance to spend Christmas with this year, try to make the most of it and do not take any of it for granted.

So let me close by wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy (Covid free) New Year.

Love and best wishes, Your local GP xx

Ofstrand Ltd. Construction Project Management Commercial Fit-Outs

Instagram: @ofstrandlimited Tel: 01245-675572 Email: info@ofstrand.co.uk Website: www.ofstrand.co.uk

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 10:41 Page 12

WE ALSO REPAIR CARAVANS!

theEDGE

Sexy dreams can take you by surprise and it’s interesting to learn what your subconscious can come up with.

According to a brand new survey (yep, they’re still being carried out despite Coronavirus) of 1,000 men and 1,000 women, the most common thing for women to dream about is sex with a friend or someone close to them, whereas with men it’s something completely different.

Yep, it’s sex with an ex (and yet men still wonder in almost disbelief why on earth they get such a bad press).

However, the thing to remember is not to take your erotic dreams too seriously, as they don’t necessarily mean that you want what you dreamt about to happen. Although then again, maybe you do?

Just under 75% of women surveyed admitted that they have dreamt about having sex with a friend, while 68% (in a non-dreamlike state) also admitted, upon occasion, to having thoughts about having sex with a work colleague.

1.

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Sex with a friend Sex with a work colleague Sex with a stranger Sex with current partner My partner cheats on me Sex with an ex Sex with a celebrity Sex with boss Group sex Sex with someone you dislike

62% of women surveyed admitted they had had thoughts about having sex with a total stranger, while in 5th place was dreaming about their partner cheating on them (57% of women have such dreams).

However, men’s dreams are seemingly quite different.

Topping the field was a sexy dream about an ex - 92% of men have had such a dream, as compared with just 54% of women - while second on the list is a sex session with practically anyone that goes embarrassingly wrong - 76% of men have had such a dream.

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(Behind C&C Autos)

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

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Sex with an ex Sex where something embarrassing occurs Group sex Sex with a celebrity Sex in a public place My partner cheats on me Sex involving BDSM Sex with a work colleague Sex with a friend Sex with a stranger

In third place for men is an erotic dream about an orgy, experienced by 72% of men, which only came 9th on the women’s list. Not to mention (but here goes anyway) 59% of men think about having sex in a public place, while such doesn’t even register where the majority of women are concerned (seemingly).

To conclude, women are much more likely to dream about having sex with someone who is familiar to them that they secretly may desire, while men prefer to revisit their Greatest Hits, reimagining past sexual encounters with ex-partners.

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Why didn’t some enterprising soul in Chelmsford think of this?

While the rest of us were clapping the NHS on our doorsteps every Thursday evening at 8:00pm during the original lockdown period, the townsfolk of Belper, in Derbyshire, went a whole lot further.

Yes, folks, for a period of 83 consecutive days at 6:30pm prompt each and every evening, they created The Belper Moo. Correct, they started mooing to one another in order to help keep their spirits up and ease the chuffing boredom.

See, the simplest ideas really are generally the best.

The movement was started by a local called Jasper Ward, who has a reet weird hairstyle - a bit like ‘PWGW’ (Paul Weller gone wrong). But you can’t hold that against the dude as when ‘Lockdown - The Sequel’ reared its ugly head, the good folk of Belper started mooing all over again.

“Back then, at the beginning of Spring, it was all very novel,” says Jasper.

“The sun was shining, there was a feeling of togetherness against adversity and it was all quite intoxicating.

“We all cheered Captain Tom and applauded the NHS, but eight months down the line, everyone’s stamina has really been tested to the full and we’re all a bit down in the dumps. So we’ve started mooing to each other all over again in sheer and utter defiance of Covid, because we will not let this virus beat us.”

While the original motive behind The Belper Moo was just sheer silliness, Jasper admits that it has brought the whole town together, which is something Chelmsford could very well do with, don’t you think?

“It’s really good fun to be mooing again,” Jasper says, “although I really wish we weren’t in this dratted situation once again.”

So what do you think, readers?

Perhaps not every night, but through bad times and good, The Edge thinks the citizens of Chelmsford really ought to try mooing on, say, Friday evenings, simply to celebrate the arrival of the weekend.

So shall we give it a go and see what we can muster? Apparently it’s already been copied in the likes of Australia and Japan.

Jasper says, “These days it’s pitch black where I live by 6.30pm and you can’t see more than a yard in front of your face. But the other night I was out mooing when I recognised the sound of a neighbour’s moo from a few houses down the road and it really was a wonderful feeling, just to know that they were daft enough to be out mooing too.”

Meanwhile, Bulper resident Isabel Kennedy admits ‘the moo’ is the highlight of her day. “It’s brought our entire co-moo-nity together,” she says, “in a way that has sustained beyond lockdown and we’re all now tighter than ever for the shared experience.”

So, in order to help fight lockdown stress, boredom and loneliness, you know what to do this December in Chelmsford, don’t you, folks?

So let’s be ’earing yer....as Delia Smith once told the crowd at Norwich!

www.theedgemag.co.uk

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POLIT INCO ICALLY RREC T

The Stores Coffee, brunch & lunch

We’ve all been watching a lot more tele of late, what with lockdown and the onset of winter. But come rain or shine, light nights or dark, The Edge household - all two of us - never miss Bake Off. Yet the strange thing is, we never, ever bake.

Having said that, you don’t have to dance to watch Strictly, do you? And even though we haven’t bothered viewing a single episode of the most recent series, the producers must have known they were onto a winner as soon as it started becoming known as Strictly alone.

But back to Bake Off and it doesn’t seem to matter what channel it’s on or who are Paul Hollywood’s sidekicks, somehow it just seems to work.

Though strangely, what I have noticed over the years is that no-one seems to ‘deumbilical’ their eggs before beating or whisking them. Is your editor alone in this trait, for I never fry, scramble or poach an egg without first cracking it into a bowl and getting rid of the ‘dreaded lurgy’ (umbilical cord)? Yuk. It makes me want to gag just looking at them, only I haven’t yet discovered a way of removing the ‘UC’ before boiled an egg.

Odd thing is, we don’t even bake a damn thing in our house, although I wouldn’t mind trying to bake a loaf of bread one of these days.

Interestingly, the bakers seem to be forever putting thin trays of whatever concoctions they’re busy baking into their freezers to cool (well, temperatures did soar in the tent during this latest series), whereas you’d be hard pushed to get anything of that ilk into our kitchen freezer, which forever appears to be bursting at the seams.

I do like eating stuff, particularly when something really sets your tastebuds going. But the sheer mess and hassle of baking it yourself?

Nah. After all, that’s what The Stores is for at Great Waltham.

And what about the amount of baking trays and utensils you’d need to buy to set yourself up at home, not to mention where you’d store them all?

Silver fox Paul Hollywood is surely the magic ingredient to it all? It doesn’t seem to matter how many dalliances with the ladies he has, or how badly he (supposedly) treated his (now ‘ex’) wife, women will seemingly forgive the scouse dough boy for all of his misdemeanours with but one glint of those twinkly, mesmeric, ice-blue eyes.

It always amazes me when TV producers strike gold, and so far as GBBO is concerned, it appears to have a 100% winning formula.

Opening Times

Tuesday- Friday 8.30am-5pm Saturday 9am-5pm Main Road, Great Waltham, Chelmsford, Essex, CM3 1DE Tel ǻ 01245 362649 Email- thestorescafe@icloud.com

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:13 Page 15

“In a word, SHIT.” That is the adverb that a friend of The Edge repeated over and over again as he was trying to describe how it felt to be brought down by Coronavirus for three weeks, and let The Edge tell you, he is a proper Hulk of a man, so if it can get him, it can get any of us.

He’s 51, wishes to remain anonymous (“I don’t want to be treated like a leper if the truth gets out”), but he wasn’t the only one to get it, as Covid-19 brought down his entire family, including his wife (46), who he thinks may have had it the worst, and daughters (17 and 14).

“The speed of us contracting it was frighteningly quick,” he told me.

“One minute my daughter’s getting it from a girl at her school, while the next we’re being tested at Stansted. Then BANG, we’re all pretty much bedbound for three long weeks which felt like months, three days of it being particularly bad.

“My youngest looked grey, drained, ached all over. It’s the illest I’ve ever seen her. I couldn’t get rid of a headache for a couple of days and I ached all over. It was painful to even touch my legs. I had no energy whatsoever. We all lost the sense of taste and smell. At its worst, my temperature rose to 39.1 degrees, yet the following day, it was back to normal. How do you explain that? But it is so contagious.

The girl at my daughter’s school ended up giving it to 22 others.”

Thing is, he explained that he’s actually glad he’s had it!

He knows he’s not immune to catching it again in the future (although fingers-crossed the vaccine works), but he admits that psychologically he now feels less vulnerable, which I guess is understandable, having endured three weeks from hell.

What do you think about the news of the vaccine, readers?

So long as it’s 100% safe, I’m up for having the jabs (2 jabs, apparently 3 weeks apart). Aren’t you?

While some folk might not want to have the vaccine administered, I think that’s their prerogative, although their decision may come with certain caveats (such as perhaps not being able to visit other countries), which may sound harsh, but clearly also fair.

So what do you think? The Edge is all ears.

OH YEAH. CRANK IT UP. TURN UP THE VOLUME! “So here it is MERRY CHRISTMAS” Chris t mas Tree Recycling

Farleigh Hospice Christmas Tree Recycling is back and is once again staging its annual door-to-door collection. On 8th, 9th and 10th January 2021, a dedicated team of staff and volunteers will be making their rounds throughout Chelmsford and surrounding areas, collecting Christmas trees from homes and businesses in return for a donation to Farleigh Hospice.

Register before 5th January at 11 am

Every penny raised will make a huge difference to those living with a life-limiting illness or bereavement. All of Farleigh Hospice services are free of charge and without the generosity of the local community they would not be able to care for almost 6,000 people every single year, help carers and families, offer bereavement support and continue to be an integral part of the local community.

The trees will be recycled and used for biomass fuel.

Registration is NOW OPEN and closes on 5th January, so please visit www.farleighhospice.org/trees or call 01245 457 411.

Regis ter now

www.farleighhospice.org/trees Collections on 8th, 9th & 10th January 2021 in Braintree, Burnham, Chelmsford, Coggeshall, Dunmow, Kelvedon, Maldon, Southminster, South Woodham Ferrers, Stock and Witham.

Please check our website for a complete list of collection locations

www.farleighhospice.org/trees/collections Donate online and we will collect your tree from your home. 90% of the monies raised go directly to Farleigh Hospice and the remaining 10% will be donated to other local charities.

It is because you care that we can www.farleighhospice.org Registered charity no 284670

www.theedgemag.co.uk

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Would you like to love what you see in the mirror again? Reinvigorate your energy levels and feel comfortable in your own skin? Become your ‘best ever self’ with a community dedicated to helping you transform your body both inside and out?

Fit, Fab & Focused is a community run by me (Hi there. I’m Laura. Yes, that’s me on the front cover and below this month!) for anyone who's looking for the most effective and FUN way to shed fat, feel amazing and achieve your goals.

Private Members Facebook Group Everything is accessible within our group inc. workouts, recipe ideas, nutritional guidance, support and community.

3 Video Workouts Each & Every Week ‘LIVE’ with me! Only don't worry if you miss any as they're all recorded and saved for you to access in your very own time.

No silly 'FAD' or Low Calorie Diets I'll give you what you need to work out exactly what your body needs on a daily calorie controlled basis. Plus monthly recipes, food planning, shopping lists and more.

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Accountability & Support when you need it We're in this together! So use the community for motivation and inspiration as you progress towards your goals.

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Become part of a positive community of people who inspire, motivate and congratulate.

Because the Fit, Fab & Focused community really want to see you succeed and achieve your goals.

What do you get as a member?

Everything you need to smash your fitness goals! Just imagine having a Personal Trainer 'in your pocket', talking you through each exercise during ‘LIVE’ workouts to ensure you get the maximum out of yourself during each and every session. www.theedgemag.co.uk

Member Sue Bowers says: “I was pre-diabetic this time last year. But I've completely changed my lifestyle since joining LKBFFF. I have lost over a stone in weight and 20 inches over my body, a lot of which was the stubborn weight round my middle, brought on by menopause and the hardest to shift. I now feel amazing and have also stopped feeling so very low at times, due to hormone imbalances. And the best thing since joining LKBFFF? I am no longer pre-diabetic!”

Not forgetting recipes, and lot's of them!

Each and every month you'll get access to newly updated, delicious and healthy recipes, so that you're never stuck for ideas when it comes to deciding what to eat, including Vegetarian and Vegan dishes.

FIT, FAB & FOCUSED! LKBFFF members come in all shapes, sizes and fitness levels, so you really don't need to be fit to make a start. My workouts are catered for all ages and fitness levels and can even be modified to suit just you (if necessary).

We’ve all got to start somewhere!

Frequently asked questions Q. Do we have to do the workouts LIVE? A. No, not at all. They will all be saved within the ‘Units’ section of our private Facebook group so you can get your workouts in at a time of day that suits you best.

So, who am I? I'm a mum of two children (Lynnie 9 & Leo 4) and wife to my very supportive husband, Mark.

My life is very much #mumlife and hectic, but I have always made time for what makes me truly happy from the inside out, and that is fitness & health. It wasn't until I’d had my second baby and was getting back into shape that I thought I'd love to help others do the same.

How can I help you?

I believe that women can be very hard on themselves and it truly makes me want to help them be in a better place, both mentally and physically. Being one, I also understand that sometimes we just need that little bit of guidance to stay on track, of which you'll have plenty of when you decide to join LKB.

entirely. I am happier and more confident than I ever imagined I could possibly be.”

Q. Do I have to do ALL of the workouts?

A. You get out what you put in! Your goals are personal to you, so when you train is entirely up to you. Completing your workouts at the same time each week isn't necessarily key, but being consistent and making time for them most definitely is. You will experience much better results.

Quote from LKB member Pam Bell (pictured above).

“I love what is happening to my body and I love every inspiring member of the group. I’m here for the duration. Go, team, go!”

Strong, Confident, Sexy & Happy!

Discover how LKB member Lindsay Cook transformed her body after making the decision to join.

“I can honestly say committing to the LKB Fit, Fab & Focused community has changed my life

Q. Are the workouts for beginners or advanced?

A. Both! We cater for all levels of fitness within Fit Fab & Focused, ranging across many different ages. My workouts are designed for both beginners and advanced members. I always give alternate/modified options with moves.

Laura concludes: “I open the doors to LKBFFF periodically. However, for readers of THE EDGE, register your interest now and I’ll be in touch to give you an early entry and have you feeling fantastic ready for 2021!

Register your interest NOW at: www.lkbfitness.co.uk Follow me on Instagram @lkb.fitness Facebook @lkbfitness Page 17

The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:14 Page 18

HERE COME THE GIRLS

A Beaulieu Park Wife’s Diary in which names have been tweaked to spare blushes and exposed breaches to Pre-Nup Agreements.

So here we are, on the verge of the ‘most wonderful time of the year’ and, more than ever, this year I’m going to make bloody sure that we celebrate in style after our global annus horribilis II. That’s right, whether old Bumbling Boris emerges from another round of self-isolation and tells us we can share the festivities with six or sixteen of us in situ, we’ll be pulling out all the stops.

The supercharged shop-fest is well underway and I wait like an impatient child for the daily arrival of the spoils of my late night booze-propelled browsing online… for gifts and gadgets, gargantuan Balsalm Hill trees and glitter-dusted stilettos, sweaters, stags and spirits (who hasn’t yet purchased the mandatory M&S gin snow-globe resplendent with edible gold glitter?). I’ve even managed to find some very much sought after Missoni sparkly face coverings, as featured in Hello magazine, which should make ‘masking up’ to go out and hunt down the brandy butter all the more festive. Nathan baulks at just how much glitter and Swarovskiadorned loveliness has found its way into our home, when apparently, we have nowhere special that we can go to wear it. “Listen up, Scrooge. The ‘bling is in’ whether I’m in Waitrose or at The Wolseley!”

This year I have hired a ‘Luxury Mobile Glamping’ experience as a surprise for mini-me. The week before the big day, two of Santa’s little helpers (well, okay, two nice ladies from the high-end event company) will rock up chez nous and erect and style a twinkly bell-tent, complete with fake trees, fake snow, fairy lights and a fire-pit for toasting s’mores in the garden. Yes, for one week only, we will be Beaulieu’s answer to Lapland UK, albeit with blow-up beds and faux fur throws.

Ooooh, I cannot believe that I am actually excited to camp…and in my own back yard too! Of course, it’s costing a small fortune and I’m kind of concerned about whether the ground sheet means I’ll be left with a bloody great circular ‘scar’ on my beautiful and equally expensive artificial lawn. But the stylists have assured me that it was perfectly fine at a recent outdoor cinema event for an Essex reality TV household name, so count me in, in, in!

I have a romantic notion that the three of us will watch Netflix, play board games and eat Lindt gold chocolate bears at midnight, beneath 100% polycotton canvas, before waking up to the hamper of gourmet breakfast stuffs and Bucks Fizz (also supplied by said company). But the awful truth is that Nathan will probably moan that it’s far too cold, that the flock-topped inflatable beds are uncomfortable and that he’s: “Going inside to get a ‘Silent Night’ on the Silentnight.” Bah, Humbug.

I obviously haven’t seen much of the girls over the past month, but I speak to them most days - mainly to compare notes about how the gift shopping is coming along and also how much maintenance money Leanne has managed to secure from her now ex-husband, Paul. Yep, she has well and truly taken him to the proverbial cleaners, even more so once she discovered he was seeing his 28 year-old physiotherapist. Seems it wasn’t only Leanne who was seeking some extra-marital solace during their ill-fated union and that ‘golfing injury’ of Paul’s was clearly nowhere near as serious as all those private health insurance invoices suggested.

Of course, he is claiming that the ‘lines were blurred’ between patient and practitioner post the divorce, but she’s having none of it. She has defamed him stupendously over the past few weeks (anyone seen ‘The Undoing’?) and let’s just say I think she’ll be getting EVERYTHING she wants for Christmas for her and the girls from him this year, to ward off the threat of taking him back to court.

Other than that, all is calm and all is bright in beautiful Beaulieu. In a year where Covid gifted to us queuing for everything, from brussels to brow tints, it meant we put our passports away for safe-keeping and had more new phrases thrown into daily conversation (lockdown, furlough, track & trace, Zoom…) than ever seen since the advent of Diana’s ‘cortege’. So I’d like to think we are ending on a high.

Holidays (and vaccines) are coming, we are ‘not allowed’ to sit through the agony of yet another school Nativity (shame) and I’m likely to spend Christmas Day getting smashed Glasto-style in an exceedingly posh tent, so BRING IT ON! Yet what would absolutely make my (Christmas) day is if Boris stands in for the Queen this year, complete with full-on Santa PPE. Watch this space...

Stay well and Happy Christmas all.

BEAULIEU PARK HOUSEWIVES

Page 18

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:14 Page 19

“A Christmas Pantomime, or Jack climbs up his beanstalk to socially distance himself from Cinderella, Peter Pan, Aladdin and particularly Snow White and her 7 housemates, who were exceeding the rules already.”

A cast and chorus of millions, Heroes and Villains, a Principal Boy, a Panto Dame or two, more than a few Good Fairies, a comic act if we’re lucky, and maybe a cow of two halves, or a talking cat.

Scene One (COBRA, a pleasantly furnished room in Principal Boy BoJo’s house with bottles of expensive mineral water and plates of the ‘good’ chocolate biscuits, or it could be a dank bomb-proofed concrete bunker complete with ashtrays full of ciggie butts and discarded cardboard cups half-full of cold coffee for all I know, but I suspect the former is a truer picture): Our pantomime opens in old London town (work with me here). A new evil villain (boo, hiss) has been spotted and all the townsfolk have been told to stay at home to avoid being caught by this sinister enemy by our hero, BoJo (or just another villain, depending on your political pov) and Chris Whitty(ington) and all his other little friends at SAGE (which stands for: Stern Advice, Genuinely Expressed).

Scene Two (set in a room with three monoliths, bright colours and patterns that flash and move before our confused eyes come on, use your imagination): Wishy Washy Rishi enters stage left and with a wave of his financial wand, grants all the good boys and girls enough money to pay their bills so they can eat, drink and be merry, for a few days at least, until they have to go begging for more. He teaches them all a new word: ‘Furlough.’ One that they hadn’t

heard of before, but one that would soon be on everyone’s lips.

Scene Three (The Marketplace of a now mostly deserted town): BoJo and his friends had put the complete wind up all the townsfolk with their dire warnings of this new villain (more booing & hissing) and they were afraid to go out to buy their groceries. But those that crept out early were rewarded with toilet rolls and pasta, so they could return home to make papier mache and macaroni necklaces. Those that had received a proclamation from BoJo could not go out, but had to sit in front of their computers for hours and hours, clicking madly so that eventually a van would come to their house with all of their food, arriving at the crack of dawn or late into the night.

Scene Four (A freshly decorated house, those ‘I’ll do it when I have time’ jobs now all done, a Joe Wicks exercise session or Paw Patrol playing on a constant TV loop): The Panto Dame could no longer get her nails painted and her hair was badly needing her roots doing, but she bartered her favourite pair of Manolo’s for a dozen eggs and a bag of flour, so was able to make a cake for her family (which she would never have done before this mess, having always bought them from M&S) while she Googled the Times Table so she could help her children with their schooling (remember when the Times Table used to be printed on the back of your exercise book?).

Scene Six (A dark forest, or a dank cave... somewhere dark and dank anyway): This scene is full of misunderstandings and misinformation of our heroes and villain (boo, hiss), each foiling one another in an attempt to get the upper hand, where despite their best efforts, no amount of Thursday hand clapping would necessarily bring back every Tinkerbell.

The audience may cry out to their heroes “He’s Behind You!”, but they don’t realise that he’s also in front, above, below and everywhere. The heroes are armed with new weapons and old, and they use everything in their arsenal, while imploring the townsfolk to do the same. They all so wanted to have a nice, normal Christmas with their families, but they feared that this year they wouldn’t be able to gather together. No carol services or school nativity plays (well, at least they’d been spared sitting for hours on tiny chairs, having used up all their precious spare material on masks and scrubs that they otherwise would have used for the Innkeeper’s costume). People may have to sit at different ends of the country while Zooming their shared Christmas dinners. There would be no going down to the pub until the sprouts had been boiled to oblivion for 2 hours. And who would they have to pull the other end of their cracker?

Scene Five (yet another briefing room or TV appearance): BoJo and his friends made one rule after another in trying to defeat the villain (boo, hiss) for the townsfolk to follow, who were scared and confused. Could they meet with other people? If so, how many and

Now a pantomime would normally end with the villain (boo, hiss) getting his comeuppance, all the principal characters tying up their personal loose ends (steady on there), a big colourful, cheerful final number, sweeties being thrown into the audience, and

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Page 19

The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:14 Page 20

Back by popular demand!

What a bulging virtual post bag I had last month. I felt like Robbie Williams. No, probably more like Sir Cliff Richard. If it happens again I might need to employ the services of a secretary to handle my correspondence. There were indeed a couple of you who decided that I was somewhat shallow to dump my girlfriend, particularly given the circumstances that I had described. However, most of you seemed to accept my explanation that we simply weren’t getting on at the time and that her weight gain was merely a side issue.

I went from being able to do no wrong, in her eyes, to doing everything wrong in the space of a few weeks, and I know for a fact there will be blokes reading this and nodding their heads in sad acknowledgement.

DEAKS

If you haven’t yet read my November Edge column, I really urge you to do so at http://theedgemag.co.uk/blog/ as I’m going to continue where I left off and try to win back my valuable female vote. And yes, I particularly mean you, Doris of Springfield, and you, Pauline of Old Moulsham. Just give me a chance, girls, I beg of you. So here goes. If you recall, I left you last issue having told you that my girlfriend at the time had given birth to a baby in 1995, who she named Jack, before giving him up for adoption despite my protests, I might add. Remember, I had stopped seeing her before she knew she was pregnant and she only told me but two weeks before she was due to give birth. Despite us getting back together again after Jack’s birth for a few years, before splitting up again, I was unable to make contact with Jack, or him with me, until he was 18 years old, in 2013. And so, eighteen long years passed and I thought about him every day. Nah, just kidding. I never gave him another thought. Oh, stop it. I’m joking, of course. But it was probably somewhere in between those two emotions, I guess. For instance, I remembered his birthday every year, as

EDGE Ale

I kept it in my diary. And, as a result, I eventually contacted my ex (although now my ex-ex) on 25th October 2013 to remind her that Jack had just turned 18 and we could now legally contact him. But to my surprise, she informed me that she wanted no contact with him, nor me for that matter, but she assured me that Jack had her contact details (through the adoption agency). However, if he reached out to her, she made it clear to me that she would decline any form of a relationship, which I had to accept, although I told her that I would welcome any contact from him and that I would not turn him away if he did. She assured me that Jack was given my basic details at birth and if he did contact her (through the adoption agency) she would provide him with my up-to-date contact details.

So I waited, secure in the knowledge that if Jack wanted to contact his birth dad, then he could, safe in the knowledge that our very first meeting would not be on the Jeremy Kyle Show.

But what I did not know is that Jack did indeed contact his birth mother via the adoption agency shortly after his eighteenth birthday and that she duly replied to say she did not want any contact with him, only to add that she no longer had any contact with me whatsoever and that I was simply a ‘one night stand’!!! (I really don’t like to use exclamation marks in my writing, but that warranted a few, don’t you agree, Ed? EE: “No, Deaks, but it’s your column, so fill your boots.”) She also added that I was a bleeding used car salesman of average intelligence (I swear this is true, as Jack has since shown me the letter). With all due respect to car salesmen and one of my best pals Nick is one of them - I might be a lot of things, but I am not a bloody used car salesman!

And so begun Jack’s search for his birth father, which he tells me included trawling the internet and social media and even having a front page article in The Bexley Times entitled ‘Please help me find my birth father’. All he had to go on was that my first name was Graham and that I had 2 sons by the names of Gary and James. Oh, and I was a bloody used car salesman of average intelligence.

So at this point I’m going to say 3 things. (1) Whilst I’m prone to the odd joke or three, I know first hand from Jack that the past 7 years have been really tough on him. (2) I am probably the only person that will defend Jack’s birth mother in all of this, and Jack certainly won’t thank me for saying that, but she had a really tough time all those years ago. She was a young, single, expectant mother, pregnant by her boss. In fact, she was actually in denial that she was pregnant until literally days before she told me and even then only at her mother’s insistence, after she finally wheedled the truth out of her daughter. And (3) Jack does read my column in draft before I pass it on to EE and if he has inherited anything from me and his half-brothers, then it is definitely our sense of humour.

So hey, girls, who’s the good guy now, eh? You still need convincing?

OK, let’s push on.

More than 6 years passed, during which time Jack continued to be rejected by his birth mother and continued his search of the second-hand car lots of Essex and Kent for a drooling, dumb car salesman of limited intelligence by the name of Graham (or probably spelt Grayum).

Sometimes I think my life should have some background music to make it easier to follow.

Then Jack had a stoke of luck when he hit upon my cousin, Linda, on Ancestry.com who’s DNA matched his. Jack was on the site looking for me while my cousin Linda was building our family tree, dating back to the Stone Age (she’s very thorough, is cousin Linda). So Jack contacted her to enquire whether she knew a guy called Graham (with 2 sons called Gary and James) and the rest I’ll tell you about in the January 2021 editions.

Yes, I accept I’m milking this for all it’s worth, but I am so loving my bulging bag. (Can I say that Shaun? EE: “You just bloody well did.”)

Blimey, I’ve barely left any room to talk about Christmas. Assuming, of course, we are still having it this year? It’s a really bitter-sweet time for me right now, what with having no mum for the first time ever. Literally, it’s the first Christmas we will not spend with mum, although on the positive side, it’s my grandson’s very first Christmas. So if ever we needed to demonstrate how life goes on, then I guess this is it, folks.

EDGE

the Page 20

And on that sobering thought, I shall wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a very Happy New Year. Let’s just hope 2021 is a vast improvement on 2020.

TTFN Deaks.

Email: gmdeakin@gmail.com Instagram: gmdeakin

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 10:03 Page 21

PRESIDENT-ELECT? I somehow managed to pick up a DVT working from home last month, so I was laid up with very little to do, other than watch TV. My time off coincided with the US Presidential Election, which I found strangely gripping, and it served as a crash course in the US Constitution.

I didn’t have a horse in the race and was free of any confirmation bias, so I can say, without my judgment being clouded, that something very suspicious indeed has gone on.

I had seen the news rush to declare Joe Biden as the President-Elect, which seemed to be the most likely outcome, whilst at the same time rubbishing Donald Trump’s claims of Election fraud.

Reading the headlines published by the mainstream media would suggest that Trump is a madman, desperate to cling onto power (he may very well be), but it didn’t report on whether there was any merit in the allegations that had been made.

Reading into matters a little further, it seems agreed on both sides that there has been a degree of election fraud. The dispute, it appears, is centred around the scale of the fraud. The Republicans (Trump,

www.theedgemag.co.uk

mainly) think this is the biggest scandal in US history, whereas the Democrats seem to suggest that if there was any fraud, then it was limited to a few hundred votes and certainly not enough to overturn the outcome of the election.

I totally get the fact that the media don’t particularly like Trump, while for many, Biden will be a far more traditional President and undoubtedly bring some stability during these uncertain times. However, I also think the media do have a responsibility to cover, in greater detail, some of the allegations and legal cases being brought about by Team Trump.

It may be that such claims are desperate and completely unsubstantiated, but it would be good to have some actual reporting on the allegations, rather than Sky News et al simply dismissing them out of hand.

There were certainly some irregularities on election night, while the election itself was like no other in history, given the sheer volume of postal votes. So how did a ‘glitch’ cause votes to move to Biden from Trump (and back again)? Why did the polling stations announce that they would stop counting, only to re-start in the middle of the night?

Are there any links between the voting systems used and the Democrat Party?

I completely understand that people are calling this a conspiracy theory, but there does seem to be some legitimate concerns being raised, so why aren’t they being reported on?

Personally, I don’t think we have heard the last of this story and I think there will be a few twists and turns still to come. Having said that, I don’t think it will change the outcome of the election once certified, but it will certainly make any transition difficult and may even galvanise Trump supporters for another ‘tilt at the title’ in 2024.

WONDERFUL WEANING My sister-in-law, Michelle, recently started a support network for Mum’s to help with weaning for their little ones. The idea was to support people during this pandemic, as it is a time where the usual help and advice simply hasn’t been available.

Billy Hinken there, I know a lot of parents have felt totally left in the dark, given the lack of health (visitor) visits, baby groups and weighing clinics, as they are normally the places where you would discuss or pick up tips.

Michelle says: “It’s vital for babies to try a variety of different textures, flavours and smells to expand their tastebuds, alongside their ever so important breast milk or formula.

“It can be hard to think of different ideas for mealtimes, but I assure you, there are many to try!”

Weaning can be an overwhelming experience for many and although there is plenty of guidance out

For those of you seeking some extra support, more information can be found @wonderfulweaning on Instagram.

Page 21

The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:16 Page 22

ONLY JOKING! EASY LIFE

Rioters have it so easy these days. It was way harder to run off with a widescreen colour TV set back in the seventies.

SMOKE How is it I can throw a single cigarette butt out of the car window and create a mini disaster by starting a forest fire, yet two boxes of matches, an old Sunday newspaper, a box of fire lighters and a 500ml can of lighter fluid and I can’t even get the barbecue to start smoking?

FUNERAL Things you wouldn’t expect to hear someone you barely recognise whisper into your ear while they’re hugging you at a funeral: 1. I think of you every time I shave.

2. Yessssssssss.

3. Tonight, it’s you.

4. You’ve just made me go moist.

5. Soon.

LOCAL MP The local MP wanted to get his house painted, so he spoke to the civil servants at Westminster who told him that if he were to put it down as ‘re-decorating his office’ he’d be able to claim the full cost back on expenses.

"How come?” the MP asked.

"Well,” says the insider, "you can claim certain expenses for upkeep. As long as you get three quotes you’ll have no problems. Just make sure they are local people and you’ll be creating work in your own area. Then simply send the bill in.

It’s a win-win situation for all concerned.”

So our honorable gentleman invites three local builders round to give him a quote.

The first guy measures the job up and gives the following breakdown: "£500 to pay my workers. £300 for materials. Two hundred and fifty quid profit for me. Total: £1,050 all in.”

The second person, a girl, measures the job, explains that she employs an all female crew, and offers the following breakdown: "£400 for my staff, £300 for materials and fifty quid profit for me. Total price: £750.”

The final guy, a total sleazeball, has a quick deco and says, "£2,750 pal.”

"What?“ says the local MP. "But you haven’t even looked at the job to see what it entails.

How can you...? £2,750? How? How on earth did you come up with such a figure?”

The fly-by-night looks up to the heavens before giving the local MP a knowing wink and recites patiently, "A grand for you, a grand for me and seven-fifty to get the girls to do the job.”

FOOL Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice....

Hey, you’re pretty damn good at this, aren’t you?

SIX YEAR OLD 6YO: "I figured out the tablet password and simply by-passed all the parental controls to download all my shows and reset the password so that only I can use it. Simples.”

Same 6YO later that day: "HELP! I put both legs in the same panthole and now I’m stuck!”

SHREDDED WHEAT Husband: "I’ve cleaned the bathroom.”

Wife: "Aw, thanks babe.”

Husband: "Remind me why we keep the toilet brush in the shower?”

Wife: "What?”

Husband: "The toilet brush. Why do we keep it in the shower?”

Wife: "What the hell are you talking about?”

Husband: "That Shredded Wheat thing.”

Wife: "MY LOOFAH?” Husband: "What? You’re telling me you named the damn toilet brush?”

BYPASS SURGERY - BRIEF REVIEW I slept through it.

Only one scar.

POT KETTLE BLACK 8 yr old son: "Shit!”

Mother: "Hey, watch your mouth. There is never a good reason to use such foul language.”

Husband: "Whoa. My parents just turned up.”

Wife: "Shit!”

FIRST RULE OF ‘OCD’ CLUB 1. There has to be more than one rule so we can place them in order of importance.

ANGELS I was getting ready for my first trip into the big city. My mate took me to one side and asked if I was going anywhere near Soho.

I told him yes and he told me to look out for a club called Angels.

"Okay,” I said. "Why?” He said, “It’s brilliant there. As you go in, you get a free drink. Then you go out the back and get laid. Come back into the club and get another free drink. Then get laid again. And so it goes on. Pretty much all night long.”

I asked him if this was really true and when had he been there?

He said, “Well, I haven’t actually been there myself. But my sister has.”

eat the damn thing!”

My boss started texting me about a meeting scheduled for 10.00am.

Mother-in-law wants to finalise arrangements for the weekend.

Honestly, I’m nearly at breaking point.

Then my 6 year old asks, “Do I have to eat the beak?”

BEST FRIEND Diamond: "I’m her best friend.”

Orgasm: "Ha-ha. Yeah, right!”

SUSPICION I think my therapist is seeing someone else.

EATING HEALTHILY Every time I try to eat healthily, along comes Christmas, Easter, Spring, Summer, the weekend, the following weekend...

JURASSIC PARK Judging by the size of the gates at Jurassic Park they were always planning on the dinosaurs escaping.

MEN ARE LIKE TIGHTS Running.

Clinging.

Generally not big enough in the crotch area.

POOR HANSEL & GRETAL What?

Aw, give me a break.

What about the poor old biddy who saved her whole life for a little retirement cottage, only for two obnoxious kids to turn up and eat her out of house and home.

OLD HAG LIVES MATTER too, you know.

THUMBS-UP Wow. So when you give a double thumbs-up, it’s OK? But when I do it, I’m struck off the Proctologist’s Register.

Where’s the justice in that?

TWEET Lady (when seeing an inspirational Tweet): "OMG, that's so beautiful.”

Same Lady (when seeing an inspirational tweet when her period is due): "OMFG. WHAT A LOAD OF HORSESHIT, CRAP & BOLLOCKS. LIFE ISN’T ALL FLOWERS & BUTTERFLIES, FFS. GET SODDING REAL.”

X-BOX So I’m on the X-Box and her and her mates are chatting. I overhear: "Married ten years?” says her friend. "What’s the secret of your success?”

My wife says (dripping with scorn), “Some bird called Amanda, apparently.”

HECTIC It’s been a hectic morning.

First off the alarm didn’t go off.

Then my son can’t find his homework/tie/shoes/ socks. Pretty much anything, in fact.

Then my daughter decides she wants to be a vegan and how come there’s no suitable food in the house?

Meanwhile, my 6 year old is whining his boiled egg isn’t fresh.

“I only bought them last week,” I tell him. “Just

All jokes published are supplied by Edge readers. Please send your ‘egg yokes’ to shaun@theedgemag.co.uk

The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 23/11/2020 18:17 Page 23

Do you ever get a real hankering to watch an old movie (although to my mind, true ‘old’ movies are all in black & white)?

I do. The one I’m pining to see at the moment is Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway as Clyde Champion Barrow (I’ve never heard of a middle-name like that before) and Bonnie Parker, released all the way back in good ole 1967, when your editor had just turned 6.

I’ve been a bit of a Beatty fan in my time and I absolutely loved Shampoo (1975) and Heaven Can Wait (1978) when he was in his adorable pomp.

Upon its release, Bonnie & Clyde broke cinematic taboos and prompted future filmmakers to be far more open when presenting both sex and violence in their films. The movie’s ending (see below) became iconic and was one of the bloodiest death scenes in cinematic history (surely The Edge hasn’t now spoilt it for you, for how else could it ever end?).

Clyde first met Bonnie in Texas in January of 1930, during The Great Depression (a bit like right now) when he was trying to steal her mother’s car. Bonnie was 19 at the time, already married to an imprisoned murderer, and was bored shitless with her life as a waitress. She was immediately intrigued by Clyde, so decided to take up with him and become his partner in crime. They then proceeded to pull off some minor hold-ups, but their amateur efforts, though exciting, weren’t particularly lucrative.

They shifted into a higher gear when they hooked up with a dim-witted gas station attendant called C.W. Moss, while Clyde’s older brother ‘Buck’ (played by Gene Hackman) and his wife Blanche, a preacher’s daughter, also join them. But the two women disliked each other upon first sight and their feud escalates throughout the movie as they transgress from small-time heists to robbing banks.

At the time of their deaths, in Louisiana in 1934, Clyde Barrow was believed to have committed 13 murders, several robberies, and was also suspected of killing 2 police officers, as well as a few kidnappings.

They were eventually shot to death by a posse of police officers who had been tracking them for some considerable time.

There’s absolutely no doubt that this particular movie considerably simplified the lives and times of Bonnie & Clyde and makes no mention of the fact that, for instance, while on the run, they suffered a horrific car accident in which Bonnie was severely burned and left a near-invalid. But hey, this is Hollywood, and this is Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway we’re talking about here, so what do you expect.

What’s more, when all’s said and done, films are a creative piece of art in which facts are often cherry picked, while others tend to get omitted, such is the filmmaker’s persuasion.

For all of that, I loved this movie, although it’s years and years since I’ve seen it, so I’m wondering whether I’ll love it all over again.

Only why, in an era of the likes of Netflix, can I simply not log on and find the damn thing?

Chr istmas

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 10:06 Page 24

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The Edge Christmas 287 new_The Edge 172.qxd 24/11/2020 15:42 Page 25

W

ell that was a marathon. We’re talking about the US election, of course. After four years of chaos, incompetence, lies, boorishness, arrogance, self-adulation, plain old stupidity, and did we mention lies already, we have finally got rid of the Orange Ignoramus.

Maybe. Of which more in a minute.

the military. He said, “I don’t get why anyone would sign up? What’s in it for them? They must be losers and suckers”. Yet that didn’t seem to lose him a single vote. Unbelievable.

First though, let’s concentrate on the great day of liberation that was Saturday 7th November 2020.

It was the day that, after 96 hours of painful suspense, during which supporters of both candidates went from despair to optimism several times, that Joe Biden finally emerged as the next President.

Here’s how. We’re in the culture war again. It’s not that all the 70 million liked Trump so much, although a significant proportion of them do, but that they hate the ‘liberal elites’ even more. It’s tribal. Trump might be a prat, but he’s our prat.

That’s the thinking.

As the result was called on TV mid-morning, out here on the west coast you could feel the city of San Diego breathe a huge sigh of relief. Finally, finally, it was over. The count that had gone on for days was done, but most of all that huge exhalation was that of a person seeing the sun after years in prison. Trump has felt like a burden we’ve been carrying around for 4 long years.

Irrespective of your political viewpoint, the sheer ugliness, noise and two fingered salute to common human decency of his rule cannot be denied.

Immediately, images of hundreds of thousands of people in the cities of this country spilling spontaneously into the streets in utter joy were beamed into our living rooms. Quite literally there was dancing in the street. It became clear to anyone with a soul that this was a moment in time, history even, that you could and should be a part of.

So what was a man to do but find the San Diego version of what was happening in New York, Chicago, Philadelphia - in fact, every big city.

It wasn’t hard. Wherever you live you know the places where people are likely to gather after a World Cup win or something of that ilk. This was something like that on steroids. It was a slow moving traffic jam of horn tooting, sunroof standing, fist thrusting, flag waving, whooping, joy. What an experience.

So why were there no Trumpies in opposition to offset all this celebration, you might ask? Well,

How can you see all that and decide, “Yeah.

Count me in - I want four more years of stupid”.

this election is a graphic example of a nation divided. Two utterly alien cultures. In rural areas, the population is thinly spread over a large area and the people are overwhelmingly older, whiter, conservative and Trumpy. In the cities, the population is younger, multi-cultural and progressive.

If you look at a big map of the USA and colour the Trump counties red and the Biden counties blue, it would be a huge sea of red with isolated spots of blue. But it’s those isolated spots where half the population lives.

OK, so while the city dwellers and anyone else who quite likes living in a democracy where you can throw your leaders out every few years were rejoicing, what was going on in Trumpland? Well, this is where the ‘Sort Of’ part of the title to this month’s column comes in. Out there they were following the Chief Toddler in his temper tantrum and saying “it’s not fair - boo hoo - you can’t have my toys”.

The fact is that although 75 million-and-counting voted for Joe Biden, there were still 70 million that voted for Trump and they aren’t going anywhere. Some of us find that staggering. How can 70 million people look at the last four years and not see it obvious that Trump was totally out of his depth and has none of the qualities expected of a president? He is clearly ignorant, creates chaos, has no policies apart from giving tax cuts to the rich, unashamedly uses the presidency to enrich himself and does nothing but watch TV all day. Worst of all, he committed what used to be the cardinal sin for a politician and had a go at

As this is being written he’s still not conceded that he lost and his party are having to give the toddler some time to whinge about how unfair it all is and come to terms with the fact he’s a loser. What’s that about not being fit for the job?

Anyway, the Biden win is good for America and the world in general, but here comes another ‘sort-of’ caveat. It’s not so great for the UK. Why? Well, Johnson is seen by Biden’s Democrats as a racist Trump-lite. He’s lumped into the same barrel as Trump (ugh). Brexit is deemed an act of stupidity. Biden is proud of his Irish roots and had a hand in the Good Friday agreement. Johnson’s blatant disregard for it has not gone down well.

The Spaffer’s past ‘witticisms’ are coming back to haunt him too. Remember he demeaned Obama for his Kenyan ancestry. In fact, one of Biden’s top aides tweeted about a call from Johnson and called him a “shape shifting creep”. Ouch. While another said, “If you think Biden dislikes him, you should hear Kamala Harris’ view”. Doesn’t bode well for that trade deal the Brexiters were relying on, does it?

It’s hard to know exactly where the twin evils of Covid and Brexit are going to leave the UK, but the suspicion here is that one word will suffice.

Buggered.

JOE KAMMY

shaun@theedgemag.co.uk

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barefooted behind rows of terraced housing there. I’ve never seen so many Bentleys in one town. It’s all Georgian architecture, huge expanses of verdant manicured lawns, boutique coffee shops and cosmopolitan restaurants.

Maybe this all fits in with the 2019 election of countless Tory MPs to smash the Red Wall.

Based on this evidence, my conclusion is that the North/South divide is very clearly a myth.

My next trip away was a five-day, 365 mile bike ride in the company, at various stages, of an assortment of middle-aged Lycra buddies (Jim, Des and another Phil).

Edge of the World travel correspondent.

Embarks on assignments in a futile effort to preserve his sense of youth, always acknowledging that he ‘Won’t pass this way again’.

Surely the most ardent of Brexiteers wouldn’t have wished for the total demise of freedom of movement we’ve witnessed in 2020. But, with very limited prospects for the resumption of international jaunts any time soon, it’s something we’ve all had to get used to. So, with wanderlust suppressed, my quests for summer fun and changes of scenery were confined to domestic shores.

I shouldn’t really complain though. I spent very little time at home throughout August and enjoyed a trinity of travels.

First up was an expedition with Mrs C up the A1 (no, that’s not a euphemism) for a week at our friends’ cottage in rural North Yorkshire. A routine enough 210-mile journey in geographical terms, but one that demanded we traverse that treacherous social abyss known as the North/ South divide. The more miles beneath our belts, the more the trepidation mounted, because if anything was destined to reinforce just how thoroughly desperate and desolate life was going to be, now that we’re denied global adventure, not to mention having to struggle to get by in the grip of a plague and relentless economic decline, then that was surely going to be it. Because, not to put too fine a point on it, it’s grim up north, isn’t it?

Except, of course, it isn’t. Well, certainly not in rural North Yorkshire it isn’t. If it’s supposed to qualify as grim, then I now know where the fairytales come from (Grimm pun courtesy of John Cooper Clarke’s classic work ‘Twat’ - look it up on YouTube).

It was all blue skies, green pastures, welcoming local inns, ruddy faced farmers dressed in ties and waistcoats, as well as posh types astride horses or upscale carbon framed bicycles.

What’s more, they all unfailingly extended a friendly greeting while we were out on walks or bike rides. And did you know that there are commercial vineyards in North Yorkshire? I kid you not. Leisure time doesn’t appear to be in short supply either. Maybe they employ people, or have A1 solutions for tending the pigeons and whippets these days. Oh and have you ever been to Harrogate? There’s no sign of dark satanic mills or ricket afflicted children playing Page 26

Day 1 - The Grand Départ from Writtle and then the 75-mile ride to Saxmundham where we lodged overnight in a less than salubrious apartment above the Prince of Bengal (no prizes for guessing the establishment’s line of business).

Sadly, we weren’t able to devour discount dhansak courtesy of Rishi Two Snack’s ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ offer, as we’d received a very kind invite to a BBQ in nearby Snape from another old mate. It was approaching midnight when, having ingested far too many beers and sausages, we had a fun ride back to Sax along some all too dark country lanes.

Day 2 - The best day’s cycling of the tour.

Deepest Norfolk boasts some of the quietest roads I've ever ridden. Seventy three miles with no vehicles, no people, no dwellings; just deserted lanes, fields and hedgerows.

Unfortunately, there weren’t any cafes, pubs or shops either, so it took nearly 50 miles before we found somewhere to eat. The Red Lion in Caston finally appeared like an oasis, but one serving beef baguettes and fine local ale.

Accommodation that night was a converted Victorian schoolhouse in Shouldham (nr Kings Lynn). But we rode a few extra miles to The Jolly Brewers for our evening refreshments and found ourselves in an extremely quirky pub, the bar of which also operated as a farm shop.

Day 3 - A 73-mile ride west to Grantham. My second experience of cycling along the straight roads that cross the featureless billiard table landscape of the fens and, true to form, we encountered a merciless headwind. This thus rendered it our least favourite day of the tour.

Our hotel that evening was incredibly cheap (£22 including breakfast), but there was little to suggest that the enhanced cleaning regime demanded by the pandemic had been too rigorously observed. This was my first ever visit to Grantham, so I was minded to observe any vestiges of its most famous daughter - aka Britain’s greatest post-war PM, or the milk snatcher, depending on your political hue - and I easily located the shop above which the Iron Lady was born. It was rather unassuming and decidedly unshrine-like, but for a very modest plaque.

The route took us right through the historic centre of Cambridge (one of the country’s most cycle-friendly cities), thus long stretches were on bike paths or car-free roads. I’d never seen Cambridge quieter, but I guess this is what no tourists or students looks like.

August then concluded aboard a narrowboat (and bugger me if EE didn’t beat me to it with his fine account of Llangollen Canal capers covered comprehensively in the November issue of this esteemed publication).

It’s difficult to explain just how the simple act of taking to a boat on our canal network transports you to a totally different world, but it does. It’s evident in the decidedly ‘alternative’ trappings and habits that go with the lifestyle of those who reside permanently on the canals. If you’ve enjoyed a canal boat holiday before, you’ll know exactly what I mean. Maybe it’s because the canals transport you back 200 years to an age when life moved at a different pace. Or maybe it’s simply that being on the canal provides a unique vantage point, one from which the world looks decidedly different. There’s certainly plenty to see and the English countryside and industrial canal-side architecture are absorbing as you pass by serenely at just 3mph.

My only previous trip was on the Rochdale Canal, but this year it was the turn of the Grand Union Canal and a one week 90-mile out and back trip between Linslade and Braunston.

Our small flotilla was crewed by three, normally respectable, Writtle couples, but the canal’s transformative quality must have been at play as we all sensed a morphing back to youth and a more carefree life. During one of the hottest weeks of the summer we totally relaxed, had some proper belly laughs and some idyllic extended evenings of chilled al fresco eating and drinking sat on our camping chairs along the towpath. Dutifully we also felt obliged to sample the fare (half price, remember?) served at many of the fine historic canal-side pubs. Add in the copious daily rum ration (a spectacularly failed experimental attempt to convert us all to seasoned sailors) and it’s a wonder that we managed to negotiate 54 locks and pass twice through the dark narrow one mile plus length of the Braunston tunnel. Fortunately, the concentration levels required (at 3mph) are far from taxing and are rather therapeutic. Likewise, the procedure and physical effort of opening and closing the locks is rather invigorating and a welcome punctuation to all that sloathing about.

I’ll conclude with my Travel Correspondent reflections on an August sans FoM. Abroad is an enticing place full of surprises - and I’ll definitely be going back just as soon as I can - but Blighty ain’t totally shitey, while Britain really is called ‘Great’ with a certain justification. wontpassthiswayagain@gmail.com

Day 4 - A pleasant, rural 74-mile ride from south Grantham, Lincolnshire, to Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire, via the counties of Rutland and Northamptonshire, punctuated by timely stops at farm shop cafes to refuel on pots of tea and scones. The overnight stay was the historic George Inn in Huntingdon where the calorie void was amply replenished with half price ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ fare and far too many pints of ale.

Day 5 - Yet another beautiful sunny day, once again blighted by another bloody headwind, making the modest 70 miles back to Essex seem a lot harder than it should have been.

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W

e’re fast approaching the silly season and even if restrictions are temporarily eased so we can spend time with our families, I think we all know that this isn’t going to be your typical Christmas.

KiNGPiN The Kingmeister reports

If you are struggling, then please, please don’t feel ashamed to admit it. You’re not weak and you’re not less of a person for needing help. If you sprained your ankle, you’d lean on someone if you needed to, and your mental health is no different. And if you’re living with these feelings yet still carrying on, still working, or looking after your home and/or your kids, then you have my utmost respect and admiration.

LOOK AFTER YOURSELVES

While the festive season is, or should be, a time when we can celebrate with both family and friends, for many it’s a gruelling ordeal under the best of circumstances, yet we’re a million miles away from that at the moment.

While the recent vaccine news has revealed a light at the end of the tunnel, that end is still months away, and for many of us the damage of the pandemic has already been done. With so many of us facing concerns about our own health, the health of our loved ones, and continuing economic uncertainty, it’s not surprising that millions of people are suffering with depression, stress and anxiety.

Some of you will have started experiencing these feelings since the pandemic began, while others will have been dealing with them already.

Long-time readers of my columns may remember that I experienced my own bout of depression a few years ago. I don’t want to make this column about me, but I do want to be honest about my own issue to hopefully demonstrate there’s no shame in admitting that you’re struggling, and certainly no shame in asking for help if you need it.

became even more so as we moved to working completely remotely. Add home-schooling on top of some very long hours and almost constant problems was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as I started to feel like I was doing a poor job at both work and home and just failing everyone, which culminated in my first (and hopefully only) panic attack.

From what I’ve learned since, it seems that even that was a fairly mild episode, but it certainly didn’t feel like it at the time. I went from staring at my laptop to suddenly having what felt like the world’s worst case of pins and needles in my arms and I began gasping for breath. The doctor said that was basically my body telling me: “You’ve got nothing left in the tank. There’s a problem here and you need to do something about it”.

But do talk to your friends and family, or if that help isn’t available to you, then talk to one of the many mental health organisations or charities.

And if you go to the NHS link at the bottom of this page you’ll find a list of groups that can help you if you need someone to talk.

In fact, you can even ‘talk’ to me, if you want, and I mean that sincerely.

You can reach me at thekingpin@hotmail.co.uk and if I can help you, I will. If it helps, we can even exchange numbers and have a chat, or if you just want someone to listen, I can do that for you too. My own struggle with mental health was nothing compared to what many other people are going through, but it was still a bloody awful time for me (and probably everyone around me), so if I can help anyone through there own problems, even just a little bit, then I will if I can.

“Long-time readers of my columns may remember that I experienced my own bout of depression a few years ago...”

While I’m ‘better’ now, I know that I still have to watch for the warning signs if my thoughts take a certain turn, and it’s thanks to the counselling I received that I can better understand my own issues and recognise these signs in the future.

I can only speak of my own experiences, but I found counselling to be a great help indeed. We just talked, and while she steered me in the right directions, I felt like she let me work out what my issues were and why I had them, which was really empowering for me.

I’m a great believer in knowledge being power, self-knowledge even more so, and now that I have that self-knowledge, I feel much better suited to deal with things, though that’s not to say it has made me completely immune.

The pandemic has certainly affected me, and I have no shame in admitting that I had to step away from work for a while and took a course of anti-depressants to help get me through the worst of it.

My job is very busy and very stressful, and it

I think one of the worst things about stress, anxiety and depression is that we’re resilient enough to be able to live with these feelings for long enough that they become normalised, and apparently it’s very common for a physical symptom to manifest itself in order to draw our attention to the fact that how we’ve been feeling isn’t right and we need to do something about it.

However, with my own little tale of woe now hopefully over, I know that compared to a lot of other people I’ve been amazingly lucky during this pandemic. While work drives me to distraction at times, I do love what I do and I know my job is secure. My employers have since let me work from home and I don’t have to worry about making the mortgage payments or putting food on the table, so please don’t take the above as anything like ‘woe is me’.

I’m well aware that compared to millions of other people I’m very lucky. I’m just hoping that talking openly about my own past experiences and recent issues might help someone else ask for help if they need it.

Now, I know this next bit isn’t much of a pep-talk, but I think it’s better to be honest. We’ve still got a long way to go before we really come out on the other side of this pandemic and many of us will be dealing with loss or the economic ramifications for years to come.

In one way or another, most of us are going to need help, someone to lean on, or at least a sympathetic ear, so if I can ask you all one thing it’s to look out for each other and look after each other. Sometimes it only takes a little thing to mean a lot, so don’t underestimate how just much of a difference each and every single one of you could make.

And perhaps, more importantly, never underestimate yourself. We all have our limits, but most of us are stronger and more capable than we give ourselves credit for.

I hope we all have as good a Christmas as we can, under the circumstances, and that 2021 is going to be a much better year than this one.

God knows, we deserve it.

Now, more than ever, we need to find ways to stay connected within our community.

No-one should ever feel alone or without the information, support and help that they need. https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/stress-anxiety-depression/mental-health-helplines/ shaun@theedgemag.co.uk

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Max Headroom’s

BIZARRE NEWS

PIZZA CRIME If there's one thing that gets people really hot under the collar, it's pizza.

Is pineapple an acceptable topping? Headroom view: No. Should you really eat a large one all to yourself? Headroom view: Emphatically, yes.

Papa John's or Dominoes? Moto or Pizza Express? Does Italy really produce the best pizza?

There are endless questions to be asked when it comes to the doughy treat.

But if there's one thing that people can be very particular about, it's what should and should not be put on top of this cheesy delicacy. And it seems there might now be a whole new food argument heading our way after a restaurant tweeted a picture of how a customer had just eaten their pizza.

A Manchester pizza outlet immediately took to social media to share a picture of a customer’s discarded plate. It's fair to say their staff weren't too happy, as the customer had avoided eating any of the crust.

The restaurant, which has been dubbed 'Incredible' in rave reviews on TripAdvisor, jokingly tweeted: "Why do you want to hurt our feelings so much?" as staff were left genuinely outraged by the unknown customer's decision to leave all of the crust behind.

One chimed: "People who do this should not eat pizza."

Another joked: "This customer is an absolute monster! What they did is just wrong on every level possible. What sort of a freak does a thing like this?"

Many people were shocked, saddened and dismayed by the customer’s decision to ditch the outer edging.

One even blasted: "Surely this is bordering on a criminal offence?”

But another suggested that the customer might have been following some sort of a diet plan, although still fancied a bit of a treat, adding: "They were probably bawling their eyes out as they walked away."

Meanwhile, some other wise soul advised: "Never trust a person who eats pizza with a knife and fork." Headroom view: Agreed.

BAD SANTA

Kid’s Reading The Edge is stutteringly up and running again, so let’s keep it going!

Simply email your ickle ones entries* to shaun@theedgemag.co.uk *Only please DON’T send any pics in relating to Page 28

Christmas as no-one wants to know about it come January!

A foul-mouthed Father Christmas impersonator made headline news when he reportedly told 50 children to “Get the feck out!” of a Christmas party in deepest darkest Cambridgeshire.

As a fire alarm sounded, he sprung from his grotto, ripped off his beard and launched into a full-on expletive-ridden rant designed to motivate the assembled cherubs into legging it.

While this particular St. Nick may have had good intentions, the alarm was found to originate from a nearby building, forcing the organisers to apologise profusely to the enraged parents present.

Get your own name written down on that ‘Naughty List’, Santa. Bah, humbug.

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MOTCO

Man on the Clapham Omnibus

BEST LEFT ALONE? So here we are in December where EE will at last allow us to use the C-word.

Following on from my Pies article last month, we once again consider food.

“Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun” Noddy Holder will no doubt be telling us from every available speaker by the time you lucky readers are digesting this. Hopefully, you will be, so long as you are ‘free’, hearing it in the shops.

All the big supermarkets have published their Christmas food offerings to tempt us, not that much is ever needed by way of temptation in the Mott household.

I am a simple man to please; sausage rolls, pork pies, peanuts, chocolate, various chicken-based snacks that you can dip into something. You get the drift. Each year there is a race to bring us lots of nice things that we may have never had before, but despite my superficial ‘simple tastes’, this can be a big bonus. Something in the M&S catalogue (other supermarkets are also available) caught my eye. It was small Yorkshire puddings filled with porcine mushrooms, pulled beef and herb crumb.

It is this desire to take a basic and solid item that pleases and feel the need to take it a step further. Mrs Mott likes to make her Yorkshire mix with added garlic, which leaves for a divided household. Peter Kay may have famously been amazed by ‘garlic bread’, but garlic in your Yorkshire’s is a step too far.

A dear friend and solid Yorkshireman who was rumoured to have the fastest legs in South Yorkshire and the firmest grip of a fiver has frank opinions about this. He would be going giddy at the addition of garlic, let alone a herb crust to his beloved ‘batter’ pudding. Maybe some jam on the cold pudding would be as exotic as it gets in Barnsley.

Also in the M&S range are chicken doughnuts. Why? Yes to fried chicken. Life doesn’t get any better. Doughnuts are equally life enhancing. Ring doughnuts in sugar? Mmmm. Jam doughnuts: double-Mmmm. Whereas chicken doughnuts is clearly a step too far. I mean, is it even a doughnut?

Food pioneers must always march on and take the unacceptable food chances that others won’t. If John Montague, aka the Earl of Sandwich, hadn’t famously put some cold meat in between a couple of chunks of bread, life could have been very different for an awful lot of the western world.

There appears a desire to be constantly bringing something new to our rapidly

expanding palates and waistlines.

It now seems that people’s taste and palates have the same boredom threshold as a teenager on a forced visit to see an elderly aunt.

Our food manufacturers, a frightening term in a way, must strive to think the unthinkable and come up with ever new winning ways to draw us in. At the well known chain Iceland, the owner encourages staff to submit their personal ideas to the development kitchen.

This is why you get some ‘interesting’ items in the party food section of their freezer cabinet. Now I am not taking some kind of reactionary stance here, because you are talking to a man who is partial to a bacon and peanut butter sandwich. But, and this is a big but (not just the ‘butt’ I am carrying around due to those bacon and PB sarnies), should we really be taking tried, tested and approved scrummies and endeavouring to improve something that we already know works? We know full well that the wheel works and therefore science has largely not spent a lot of time trying to reinvent it.

Even the brewers are at it, under the label of ‘craft beer’. Giving something a stand out moniker does not give license to butcher everything that has gone before it and then charge twice as much. I was recently offered a taster of a cucumber pale ale. Really? Why the hell would you put cucumber into a perfectly good beer that has been consumed in large quantities using the same basic recipe since around 1700? And no, I don’t mean five o clock!

My dear readers, it has been a bummer of a year and we know there is more to come, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. Enjoy your traditional unmolested Christmas dinner, with overcooked sprouts and proper Yorkshire puddings. But mostly, enjoy it with those you love. Remember those who may not be here and continue assisting the emergence of kindness that recent events have bought back into daily life. Sentimental, yes. Slushy, yes. Apologetic, no.

Keep on buggering on in 2021!

Bless you all.

Yours aye,

Me & Mrs Edge watch this 1947 B&W movie every single Christmas, readers, and if you’ve never seen it before, then we strongly urge you to do so, as perhaps this year it’s more pertinent than ever. Simply because life doesn’t seem to be all that wonderful at all at the moment, does it? So perhaps we all need a little reminder of how things could genuinely be an awful lot worse and just what a lot the vast majority of us really have to be thankful for.

Personally, I’m not great when it comes to ‘looking on the bright side of life’, but this movie is a genuinely good place to start. shaun@theedgemag.co.uk

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JIMMY’S FARM

Norfolk who has been screaming that the vaccine is unsafe and he would not be giving it to his kids - whilst lighting up another roll-up and blowing smoke throughout the house.

Frankly, I don’t know what camp I fall into, but I really do not believe that Bill Gates wants to dominate the world. He’s far too busy churning out Google updates. And besides, his hair is always neatly coiffured.

WHAT IF THE HOKEY COKEY IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT? “On the first day of Christmas an Amazon driver knocked on my door, with 12 bottles of sanitiser, 4 facial masks, and a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka” (well, it’s Christmas after all).

If I‘d written that last year you would have been calling for the people with a straight-jacket to cart me off. Yet as we near the end of this year, I think it is fair to say we will all be glad to see the back of 2020. Not even Mystic Meg (whatever happened to her?) could surely have predicted this utter madness. Who would have thought that I would be shopping for daily essentials on Amazon? Amazon has been a godsend to so many people who needed a bottle of gin, yet were too far ‘gone’ to get out of their chair to go any buy another.

All year long we have played the Hokey Cokey. In - out, in - out. Alas, if only we could shake it all about. But no, we haven’t been able to meet up during November, dance, or even stand within a couple of metres of each other, let alone sing in a crowd.

As I write this month’s column, Boris is back at home, self-isolating and missing his comb. His hair has gone crazy (who knew Covid sent your hair mad?). I mean, come on, this guy is supposed to be running the country, yet he cannot even run a comb through his barnet before addressing the nation. And thank god Trump and his crazy orange hair have been voted out of the White House.

Covid has divided us as a country more than Brexit ever did. There are seemingly two camps out there; those who are following the rules and doing all that they can to stop the spread, and those who refuse to obey and think Covid is a hoax driven by the Illuminati and Rothschild family, all carefully managed by Bill Gates to usher in The New World Order by jabbing us all with a sinister vaccine that will track us and kill us when we reach retirement age.

‘Facebook experts’ have been screaming conspiracy theories left, right and centre. Such as ‘Dave from

Page 30

Meanwhile, I have been observing the rules and regulations and wearing a mask, spraying myself from head to toe in sanitiser and living like a hermit since March, which is draining, it has to be said. Covid seems to be affecting the mind as much as anything else. A few Edge readers have even reached out to me to admit they’re feeling the strain of isolation too.

Christmas, I fear, will be really hard this year for lots of families. I think it is surely a time to be kind and to not think too far ahead. Simply make plans for today as that’s enough to deal with at the moment. But be proud of getting this far and keeping yourself going. So eat the chocolate and Christmas pudding with an extra dollop of cream. Spoil yourself. Buy yourself your own Christmas presents this year and enjoy every minute of it.

The greatest sentence I ever heard was: “And This Too Shall Pass”.

Everything passes. The good times as well as the bad, and we will look back on this and be proud that we triumphed and survived. We all got through a really tough year together.

So perhaps this really is a year where we should definitely decorate the tree and write Christmas cards to our neighbours, and lay the table and eat Christmas dinner, even if we are on our own. Crack open the champers and celebrate the fact that not even Covid can stop us rejoicing throughout the festive period. And let’s look forward to 2021. Blimey, is it really 21 years since the millennium? Time goes by so very, very quickly.

Pull on your Christmas PJs and wooly jumpers, safe in the knowledge that we can’t look any stupider than we’ve already done standing 2 metres apart, wearing homemade masks and tightly clutching our toilet rolls.

Let’s just be happy and thankful that we’re still alive. We’ve survived the virus when others have sadly not. We relearnt how to become self-sufficient all over again, baking banana cake and finishing off all those DIY jobs we promised we’d get round to ‘one day’.

We took up new hobbies and did things for ourselves.

So let’s remember to be proud of ourselves this Christmas, because not even Covid can take such a special day away from us.

Wishing everyone of you a safe and happy Christmas with much joy to look forward to in the years ahead.

tracie123@aol.com

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