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2030 is still the best part of a decade away, yet it feels like we’re getting caught up in electric car conversations almost every day. Whether you already own an electric car, or you’re sick to the back teeth of hearing about them on the TV and radio, it’s probably fair to say that most of us have the same apprehensions about their arrival. In fact, the guys down at Fairmont Sports & Classics say we’ll be completely bored of them way before 2030 even arrives! Despite recent fuel price hikes, Fairmont tell The Edge that their business of trading sports and classic cars is going from strength to strength and nothing whatsoever seems to be stopping the booming classic car market. In fact, many people now appear to be turning to an ‘old school’ motor to go alongside their daily EV, and even in some cases replacing them entirely. Owner of Fairmont Sports & Classics, David Scarborough, told The Edge: “Many people have bought a Tesla, or an electric Mini, and you know what? They’re bored of them already. They miss firing up the engine and going through the gears on twisty B-roads. People come into our showroom and tell us they need something fun to drive at the weekend, because their electric car simply isn’t doing it for them.” Fairmont Sports & Classics are based in Hutton, Brentwood, and they have an eclectic mix of everyone’s favourite cars from the 1960s through to the 2010s, all beautifully presented and prepared in their workshop. So if you fancy dabbling in a classic car, or you’d simply like to have a look around their showroom, just pop in and say ‘hello’.
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Oh, and do mention you saw them in The Edge too, please!
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RICOCHET
READER’S EMAIL
I used to so love the sound of a ricocheted bullet in both cowboy series and movies when I was a lad. Alias Smith & Jones (as opposed to Alas), The Virginian, Big Country (which was a little bit before my time, but oh what a classic musical score), The Magnificent Seven, A Fist Full of Dollars etc. So you can imagine my sheer and utter delight the other Sunday morning when two slices of toast popped up out of our toaster, followed by another two slices just a millisecond afterwards.
“Hi Sean (yes, spelt incorrectly, despite my email address). I recently had to go to Portsmouth for a couple of days on ‘family business’ and following your recent articles on Gunwharf Quays, I decided we would spend a day there. I have to say, I was extremely impressed by the cleanliness, walkways, artworks, general ambience, not to mention the well organised car parking, numerous choices of places to eat and drink. And, of course, numerous retail shopping opportunities, at which I spent far more than I had intended. Many thanks for the recommendation. Regards, Ray Alderman. Your feedback is most appreciated, sir.
OMG
The Edge Editor’s Column PLASTIC BAGS I honestly cannot believe supermarkets continue to sell plastic carrier bags to their customers. Surely we are all aware that plastic is Enemy No. 1 these days (well, apart from the Ruskies)? So let’s put a stop to both - plastic bags AND that damned war in Ukraine.
COFFEE CULTURE
SPRING As I have mentioned on page 6 this month, Spring is most definitely my favourite time of year as it’s the time you see the most radical change, from grey to bright pinks and yellows. I absolutely adore it, only I wish there was a way of slightly slowing down the process in order to prolong its magnificence.
JOKES There are 33 ‘egg yolks’ on the Jokes Page this issue and watch some herbert complain that they’ve heard every single one.
WELL JELL I don’t mind admitting that I was ‘well jell’ when I found out Edge columnist Jan/Yan was buggering off to The Algarve on holiday this month, but if anyone deserves it, he does. Meanwhile, I’ve got 3 nights in Lyme Regis to look forward to! THE EDGE Chelmsford CM2 6XD 077 646 7 97 44 shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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Speaking of Coffee Culture (read all about it on page 7 this month), I was out in our town recently, meeting an advertiser for a chat and a brew, when a young girl said “excuse me” as she cleaned the surface of our table with a damp cloth before our drinks had arrived. After she’d gone, quick as a flash, this particular advertiser (who shall indeed remain nameless) said, “My god (as she hadn’t made too good a job of such a simple task), I hope she wipes her arse better than that!” The joke was all the funnier as I hadn’t expected such a sentiment coming from his mouth.
I’ve had a trapped nerve or two in my time, or at least what feels as though it might be, but last month I somehow got myself into a worse state than I’ve ever been in. It started with a twinge in my back, low down and about a couple of inches to the left of my spine. This then came through, as opposed to around, to that grove where your leg joins your body and ran down the front of my thigh to a few inches above my knee. I was only comfortable sitting down, while walking was proving to be a positive nightmare. And it got worse, because as I was walking and holding myself weirdly, in order to negate the pain as best I could, halfway up my back, just off my spine, started aching like buggery. Ibuprofen and Paracetamol, which I began taking every couple of hours on a rotational basis, did nothing to help. So eventually I called the quacks and he prescribed a whole bag of goodies for me (all for FREE, now that I’m 60) including Solpadol, Naproxen, Amitriptyline, plus Omeprazole to protect my stomach lining against the previous three, as well as some Voltarol Emulgel to rub into my back, groin and lower spine. So hey, I can but see how they all perform. But so far, very little change.
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As well as there being 10,000 physical copies of The Edge produced each & every month, were you aware that The Edge has over 12,000 online followers? No readers, your editor wasn’t either, as I’m not very au fait with the whole online movement and that’s the truth. But apparently the figures on 20th April 2022 were as follows:TWATTER 5,130
INSTAGRAM 1,121 So what I’d now like to do is increase the number of subscribers who receive The Edge online each and every month as it costs you sweet bugger all to do so. Simply log on to www.theedgemag.co.uk/subscribe and it’ll reach you every month ABSOLUTELY FREE!
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Have to say, The Edge wasn’t impressed at all with the final series of Peaky Blinders. In fact, it bored your editor rigid for the most part. But woah, that final 1hr 20min. episode on Sunday 3rd April. My oh my, creator Steven Knight fully redeemed himself by smashing it way out of the park. Loved it. ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT. And the music at the very end. Do any of you know what that was? It was superb. Now, with its spirits fully restored, The Edge cannot wait for the feature film big screen version, as it definitely must happen one day.
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Because it’s become a bit of a phenomenon, don’t you think? What’s more, many people probably spend around £20 per week on drinking coffee that’s solely for themselves, while plenty more of you fork out perhaps twice that, maybe even three times as much? So is it all about the coffee? The Edge guesses it is whenever you buy a take-out. But what about if you’re drinking in? Do you sometimes prefer to drink the coffee within an environment you particularly like, while actually preferring the coffee of somewhere further down the road who maybe only supply take-out coffee, or their environment doesn’t float your boat so much? And are you at your happiest while drinking your coffee alone - as in having a bit of ‘me time’ - of do you prefer to drink your coffee with friends? Mrs Edge got me into soya milk a fair few years ago, so it’s generally always a soya latte for me, served extra hot (because it can only get cooler and if it starts out tepid to begin with, grrrrrrr!). But do true coffee aficionados - if there is such a thing - only ever drink shots of pure coffee in those miniature cups you’d expect to find only in a doll’s house?
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Let’s be hearing your thoughts on this subject
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We made a decision to go away for the first week of the Easter holidays, staying in a static caravan in Clacton. From the point I clicked ‘confirm booking’ on the website I could have predicted, without fail, that the weather that week would invariably be atrocious, but I don’t think any of us could possibly have anticipated the cyclonic level of wind and rain of biblical proportions that was to befall us. Least of all my poor step-dad, Baggins, who came along for the ride in his tourer and moored up in a somewhat desolate field just down the road from our site. It was a traumatic week for us in more ways than one. For starters, I fell victim to the most violent attack of what I believed to be food poisoning on the second day, which saw me positively begging for death before nightfall. It quickly became apparent, however, that it wasn’t actually food poisoning when two of the kids followed suit within 48 hours, so that was 3 out of 5 of us played caravan toilet relay, which was interesting (and unforgettable) to say the very least. Meanwhile, poor Baggins was bailing out a very different kind of bog just down the road, in a setting reminiscent of Craggy Island from the programme Father Ted. After the tsunami of rain and wind that swept the coast overnight, it really was a surprise to all of us that both he and his tourer remained in situ the next morning. Since losing my mum just over three years ago, I can categorically say that we would have been absolutely lost without dear old Baggins. He regularly does school runs/pick-ups, babysits, and generally runs around after us all, as and when we need him to. We have also been on numerous caravan adventures together where we have all squeezed into his 4 berth tourer (albeit with myself and Dave in the outside awning). What’s more, he never fails to entertain us with his shenanigans and unique approach to life. Not exactly renowned for his high levels of activity, he has recently found out that he needs heart by-pass surgery and subsequently has been put on medication that definitely seems to bring out the doormouse in him. Generally, of late, he can be found either eating or sleeping, by his own admission. Since purchasing his first tourer 3 years ago (and subsequently his upgraded version) he has travelled all over the country towing his second home, sometimes for many weeks on end, even going as far as Skegness (as north as north can be, surely?). However, despite these epic journeys of many, many hours spent on the road, you can guarantee that wherever he goes, he only ever sees wild fields, ELSAN points and the local Chinese take-away. It amuses us no end that he will spend the best part of a day driving to get somewhere, then actually make very little effort to leave the site, unless it is to seek out his
nightly feast. On those rare occasions when he does cook, he has a tendency to cook for at least 4 people, and whilst this means we have previously been the happy recipients of a fair few chicken pies and curries, it also means that he tends to (in his own words) “eat a meal for two as a greedy one”. The other day he sent me a photo of what he was intending to have for dinner, which consisted of two fair sized trout, a pack of potatoes for two, plus an array of veg. When he proudly sent me the cooked version, you could barely see the potatoes or the veg for the large knobs of butter plonked on top of them. He previously dabbled in ‘keto’ (when someone told him it was unlimited sausages and eggs), but it’s fair to say he opted for a more pick’n’mix version of the diet as he explained to me one morning he had breakfasted on a feast of sausage, bacon, eggs, mushrooms and 2 hash browns. Missing his sweet treats, he was thrilled to discover keto brownie mix for sale on Amazon and as soon as it arrived, he promptly made enough for the kids’ entire school. One day he was actually spotted at pick-up handing out samples wrapped in tin foil to people he knew, which clearly raised a few questions, but he also completely ignored the 12g recommended portion size and was, in all likelihood, consuming more carbs than a sumo wrestler in blissful ignorance. His texts also make for entertaining reading as his spelling is quite ‘wobbly’ (the world has just experienced the COVIC pandemic, according to Baggins), so he voice dictates a lot of his messages and the transcription invariably does not match what he has said at all. However, instead of correcting it, he will just send it on and leave the recipient to try and decipher what he actually means. The confusion is further compounded by his android phone sending random question marks instead of emojis to Apple phones, which leads to much toing and froing trying to clarify what he means when he appears to constantly question every message you send him. Baggins is also pretty much our only babysitter for the kids if we need/want to go anywhere. He always turns up early with a Chinese take-away in hand, gets immediately robbed of his chicken balls (by the kids) and wonders why they then go a bit batshit crazy. He’s amazing at putting the younger two to bed and even reads them stories, but invariably he has been known to doze off on the sofa before our 8 year old’s bedtime (even before his doormouse meds). He’s also something of a modern day Inspector Gadget. His house is a veritable treasure trove of numerous gadgets (some infinitely more useful than others) and his regular compulsive purchases definitely help to keep the Amazon fat cats in caviar. To name but a few of his acquisitions in more recent years, there has been: an air rifle, a Halogen oven, several air fryers, a pizza oven, a shower enclosure with built in telephone and radio, an electronic cut-off for the water, a separate oven temperature gauge (because apparently the actual oven thermostat wasn’t to be trusted), a house alarm system and CCTV (that has never properly worked), a wall mounted cling film dispenser, a machine for vacuum packing food (he was so excited by this he actually bought one for my sister and I for Christmas) and not forgetting the bulk purchase of a specialist car cleaning system (that he has used twice). He once made a 2 hour round trip during a caravan weekend away with us in order to purchase a caravan related gadget he just had to have from a shop he found online. On his most recent trip, whilst in the Father Ted field, he clocked a neighbour’s flame style outdoor lights and had them in his Amazon basket quicker than you could say “Is that yet another gadget?” Other caravan specific gizmo’s include an Illuminated flashing flag pole, a Teppanaki plate, solar panels, a satellite dish tracker (?), ‘Happy Bowls’ (allegedly for self cleaning the toilet) and a wider selection of awnings than Camping & General. Despite the trials and tribulations of our week in Clacton, my one big regret is that I didn’t get to observe Baggins, in all his glory, as he attempted to leave his completely waterlogged field on the Friday morning and ended up detaching his tourer and using his motor movers (one of his more useful gadgets) to precariously navigate through the marshes, whilst getting covered head to foot in mud.
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Whilst I was hobbling around Chelmsford with sciatica - and extremely annoyingly debilitating it’s been too - it was grand to pop into Lance James and see one of The Edge’s old advertisers, Antony Rogers, who still looks as fit as a butcher’s dog, even though he’s reached 40. “Thanks for noticing,” he told me. “I’ve never been fitter in my entire life, as it goes.” Yep, he’s gymning it these days, as he’s a dad of two (ten and seven) so needs to be in tip-top condition. Lance James used to appear in The Edge every single month for a number of years when they were Chelmsford’s sole Pandora supplier. Alas, times change, although here’s a cheeky little ad from them on the right. So if you see/read this and it prompts you to pay them a visit, readers, do let them know you saw them in The Edge. If memory serves, I think Antony used to run a nightclub in Brighton, back in the day, and was an ardent, enthusiastic drinker (shock/horror). But these days, and for a number of years, yep, you guessed it, he’s a become tee-totaller. Tut, no doubt that’s why he can still fit into 32” waist jeans and wear tapered shirts tucked in, the bugger. I honestly thought he was a beach-bum/surfer-type dude when I first clapped eyes on him in Baddow Road, many moons ago, when Lance James used to be situated opposite Zagger (remember those days, readers?). “I still used to drink back then,” admitted Antony, “so if things were a bit quiet, I’d sometimes close the store for 20 minutes and go have a snifter in the Nag’s Head.” I’ve also spotted him riding a push-bike up to Chelmer Village a time or two, dumping it into the back of his van, before driving home to Colchester. No doubt there’s method behind such madness!
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BUDAPEST, BUCKS & BLAME My travels recently gave me the opportunity for a couple of days in Budapest, Hungary’s capital that spans the Danube. I arrived by train from Ljubljana, capital of neighbouring Slovenia (more of which another time). It was a pretty basic train, travelling at a most sedate pace, but it was clean and comfortable and at just €19 for the 8 hour journey across the Carpathian Basin, the fare was a bargain. I started my first full day with a stroll along the eastern bank of the Danube, giving me the chance to view the famous shoe memorial a haunting tribute to the estimated 20,000 victims murdered on the banks of the river by the pro-Nazi militia in 1944-45. Then it was on to Hungary’s parliament building, which, like London’s Palace of Westminster, is an example of Gothic Revival architecture. 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’.
all the way out to Heroes Square in the east and up to Gellert Hill in the west, giving me a great perspective of the scale of the city and a glimpse of the main sights. I’d been told that the Great Market Hall (Nagycsarnok) was interesting and a good spot for lunch, so I jumped off the bus near the Liberty Bridge. I wasn’t disappointed and spent a contented hour or so wandering around the stalls before grabbing some tasty street food (paprika flavoured sausage stew and pickled vegetable salad) accompanied by yet another local beer.
BUCKS Mrs C and I have recently joined the great tide of humanity migrating westward. In our case, this takes the form of us spending a greater share of our lives at our ‘second home’ in leafy Buckinghamshire, on grandparenting duties! Conveniently accessed via the Metropolitan Line and nestled in the Chilterns there are many contrasts with our native Essex. I’m not sure we could afford to live there permanently, mind. Feeling a bit peckish, I popped into the local bakers for a loaf of sourdough bread. The tasty-looking loaf was already bagged before I was quoted £7.05. Yeah, you heard me right, seven *@#%ing quid for a loaf of bread! Blame my naivety, or blame my unsophisticated provincial Essex mindset, because uncultured as I am, I’d failed to observe that this was, in fact, an ‘Artisan’ bakery and therefore perfectly entitled to sell one for the price of two. The whole experience was more than a little reminiscent of Harry Enfield’s memorable ‘I Saw You Coming’ sketches. No prices displayed, because if you need to ask, you simply can’t afford to shop there!
Mid-morning I stumbled on an enormous example of urban art in the form of Neopaint’s 6:3 mural commemorating the most famous national team in Hungarian football history. Back in 1953, the Mighty Magyars, featuring Ferenc Puskás, famously defeated a tactically and technically inferior England 6-3 at Wembley.
BLAME Whilst on the subject of blame, have you noticed just how much of the old finger-pointing goes on in society, in politics, and in sport? To my mind, this is yet another negative and corrosive force that flourishes with the aid of modern media. Whether it’s the screaming headlines of the tabloids or toxic accusations discharged under the anonymity of social media, blame is all too readily attributed by enraged lazy types as a quick fix. Yet blame is a gateway drug for hatred, vilification, bile and ultimately division. When circumstances turn against them, or when results don’t go the way they want, the users’ instincts compel them to identify convenient culprit(s) who then suffer as the targets when the masses pile in to vent their spleen. Sometimes the blame even goes through a bizarre mutation process, resulting in the birth of an eccentric conspiracy theory.
Eager to sample some traditional food for lunch, I found a restaurant and chose lángos, which is deep fried dough and is best described as some form of naan bread/pizza/doughnut combo. Hearty and rather sweet tasting, I had mine topped with venison stew, washed down with some local beer.
There are many recent high-profile episodes where blame has led to some thoroughly ugly conduct in the aftermath; England’s penalty shoot-out defeat to Italy in the Euro 2020 final; Trump’s 2020 election defeat; the emergence of SARS-CoV-2 virus in China; and even The Hammers’ move from The Boleyn Ground to The London Stadium. All serve as reminders that it’s seldom justifiable to crudely apportion blame in its entirety to a sole party - life’s just too complex for that and ideally accusers should first look at themselves and consider their own motives. Some hope!
After all my walking throughout the day, I reckoned I’d earned a few more beers that evening, so I headed out determined to sample a few different styles. I found a comfortable bar in the city’s Pub Street (Gozsdu udvar) and set about downing a few glasses, including the memorable dark and sweet bottled Dreher BAK 7.4%.
Finally, I should mention that I recently received some positive comments about my April column from a Norwegian reader. If we ever need it, here surely is evidence of The Edge’s burgeoning reputation as an esteemed journal with truly global reach. It’s only a matter of time before Chelmo’s traders are ousted by international luxury goods brands competing for advertising space in The Edge’s glossy pages.
On my final day I decided to bus binge Budapest by buying a ticket for one of the ubiquitous Hop-On/Hop-Off services. The route took me
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Sticking to an exercise routine is easier said than done, but investing in some quality home fitness equipment certainly takes the hassle out of enjoying a healthier lifestyle. Of course, you want to feel confident that you’re purchasing the best equipment available, no matter the price range - including products that are premium, reliable and functional. Helpfully, Fitness Superstore Chelmsford - one of the largest of its kind in Europe - is packed full of equipment to suit every need and budget. Whether you’re a fitness fanatic or passionate about powerlifting, the range of cardio-machines, strength essentials and functional fitness accessories are sure to house the perfect product for you. Plus, with exclusivity on several products and brands (including renowned names such as Schwinn, Bowflex, Powertec and more), you’ll find equipment you can’t find anywhere else in the UK. Fitness Superstore Chelmsford pride themselves on providing an unbeatable in-store shopping experience and offer a premium service from start to finish. Every visitor to their Chelmsford store is greeted by a member of their expert, fully-trained team, who go the extra mile to ascertain your goals and requirements before helping you to select the right equipment that supports both you and your training. When you’re there, you’re free to browse the unrivaled range of products at your leisure. Want to get to grips with a certain machine before you purchase? No problem. Just jump on and put it through its paces. All of the equipment on display is available to ‘try before you buy’ and if you have any questions, Fitness Superstore Chelmsford staff are always available to assist you. Whether you’re fitting out a new build, looking to transform a garage, convert a spare room, or completely renovate a building to accommodate your fitness goals, the design and layout of your home gym is just as important as the equipment you choose. Fitness Superstore Chelmsford’s gym planning service does exactly that, creating an aesthetically pleasing and functional layout for you that maximises the space you’re working with. What’s more, it’s a free, no obligation service!
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With more and more people choosing to train at home, rather than at a commercial gym, there’s no better time than now to plan and build the home gym of your dreams, with ‘Fitness Superstore Chelmsford’ being your first port of call (see this month’s front cover).
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They also offer a variety of finance packages to help spread the costs and make the most of your budget, so you don’t have to compromise on what you know will help set your training area apart. Interest-free monthly payments ensure you can purchase exactly what you want without any financial headache. And when it comes to post-purchase support, you can rest assured Fitness Superstore Chelmsford have that covered too. Their friendly Customer Services team are always on hand to assist with any order queries you might have and if you ever experience any issues with your new equipment, you can contact them directly and they’ll be more than happy to get you back up and running just as soon as possible. What’s more, all of their products are sold with a warranty to give you that extra added peace of mind. The Chelmsford store can be found in New London Road, just above a canteen. With ample parking nearby and just a short walk from the High Chelmer Shopping Centre, they are ideally positioned for home gym users across Essex. So why not stop by their store soon to meet their team, browse through their product range and start hitting your fitness goals from the comfort of your own home.
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theEDGE
The Edge thinks it’s a positive belter and had never stayed in one before, until very recently (the end of March, to be precise). And yes, readers, you really do get an armchair in the corner and a proper leather swivel chair beneath a desk. But the main thing is, it’s definitely a step-up due to the fact that it’s a lot less purpley (The Edge isn’t really into purple at the best of times). The beds are always super-comfy and the TV is always easy to operate, but the bathroom is also a huge improvement as the shower-door is hinged, thus allowing ‘FEA’ (far easier access). Oh and what they provide us guests with to soap our booties in a Premier-Plus room is also of higher grade quality than mere ‘cattle class’, which still remains acceptable in The Edge’s eyes. However, readers, the trick is to have a Monday off work and book one of ‘TLB’ (these little beauties) on a Sunday night to receive the ‘deal of the week’ (oh yes, they’re always cheapest on a Sunday). I treated Mrs Edge to one recently in Northampton town centre for just £48, which appeared to be one of their newer designed hotels. What’s more, the overnight parking was just a couple of quid. So just think what a bargain you’ll get if you go even further up north!
Good question. Fact is, I was curious about a place called Stoke Bruerne, which is simply a village a few miles south of Northampton. It’s mentioned in the Domesday Book in 1086 as ‘Stoche’, meaning ‘an outlying farmstead or hamlet’. Its main claim to fame, apart from its cuteness, is it being situated on the Grand Union Canal and also being featured in ‘A Fish Called Wanda’ (1988). There’s also the Blisworth Tunnel on the towpath, which is the ‘longest wide freely navigable tunnel in Europe’ (me and Mrs Edge had a quick peep inside and it looked reet dark) - open to ‘powered craft’ only. But sadly, Stoke Bruerne somehow just wasn’t for us, as a potential place to live, once I do eventually hang up my quill, so to speak. We do keep looking at places, every now and then, as there must be somewhere we’d feel comfortable living. But as yet, that particular ‘certain somewhere’ continues to elude us.
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So when we left Northampton, on the Monday morning, we drove over Downham Market/Thetford/Diss way without really knowing what we were doing, other than just trying to ‘get a feel’ for a county, this one being Norfolk. Only straight up I made a massive boo-boo by heading for a place called Brandon, on a whim, and for miles all we saw was ‘Scenes from Colditz’ as we passed the massive RAF Lakenheath. When we eventually spotted the Fart & Buckle pub on the A1065 at Hilborough, it was a sheer and utter relief to pull in and get our bearings (particularly as they had Moretti on draught, which is the wife’s favourite beer, along with Peroni...she’s a woman, what can I say?) and to share a ploughman’s lunch with some chips on the side, which we’d been told were ‘real’ chips, only were they buggery, they’d come fresh from their freezer (how do pubs get away with lying like that?). Anyway, do you know what, readers? We actually got held up at one point behind a tractor laden with carrots. Yes, carrots, which is something you never, ever see in Essex, is it? The land’s really flat in parts of Norfolk (and, I’m surprised to say, in parts of Cambridgeshire too) and there are many ultra straight roads that seem to go on forever, only then there’ll be a 90 degree turn before the whole process starts all over again. Sure, we need to visit the likes of Brancaster, Holkham, Wells-nextthe-Sea and Holt, but Edge columnist Motco has already warned me, nice as it may well be up there (apparently), it’s also what is termed Islington-on-Sea and priced accordingly. So instead, we headed for Diss, in Suffolk, once again on a whim (we’re a nightmare, there’s no bloody rhyme nor reason to us) and it was, you know, okay. But we don’t want ‘okay’. We’re after ‘to bloody die for’, without the price tag to match. Have any of you readers got any suggestions for us, for the day when we do eventually say our goodbyes to Chelmsford? Have to say though, on our way home we stumbled across a little place called Nedging Tye and immediately fell in love with it. Greenstreet Green, Naughton, Bildeston, Chelsworth and Monks Eleigh were also lovely, while we think living in Lavenham might be a complete and utter pain in the arse, due to all the tourists. But we seriously need some help, Kirstie & Phil style. Odd as it may seem, our next port of call might well be Whitby, on the East Yorkshire coast, and a place called Staithes a little further up, which looks absolutely stunning. Because surely you’ll get ‘more for your buck’ up north, won’t you, readers? Aye, maybe. But then there’s also the weather to consider?
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history. Cinemas up and down the country will be showing each Bond movie in order, starting with Sean Connery's first outing on 15th April 1962 and finishing, at the end of October, with No Time To Die. Will I be watching them? Oh yes, of course I will! Yes, I have them all on VHS. Yes, I have them all on DVD. And yes, I have them all on digital download. So why would I go and pay to watch them all over again, I hear you ask? Well, because some films just need to be seen on the big screen to fully appreciate them and all the Bond movies, to my mind, fit into that category. Well, maybe not Die Another Day, with 007 driving around in an invisible car. Tut!
YOU HAVE TO THINK TWICE BEFORE ADMINISTERING THIS KIND OF MALARKEY NOWADAYS...
POLIT INCO ICALLY RREC T
GOOD SERVICE I’M OFF ON HOLIDAY NEXT WEEK! That sentence always sounds great when it leaves your own lips, doesn't it? Well, by the time you crazy kids read this month's issue, I will be pretty much repeating that very sentence myself and I can’t bloody wait, let me tell you. Like most of you out there, finally feeling confident enough to book a flight to chip off overseas feels soooooo good. We shall be heading out to Portugal for a little bit of sun, sea, sand and, you guessed it, Super Bock, which is a lovely Portuguese beer.
T
he name Jamaica Blue comes from the majestic Blue Mountains of Jamaica - one of the best coffee producing regions in the world. It’s from there our cafés source the exclusive coffee beans for our famous Blue Mountain award-winning Jamaica Blue signature blends. The world-class beans used in our coffees are expertly roasted to bring out their unique flavours. Once these beans reach Chelmsford’s Jamaica Blue, highly-trained Baristas work their magic, using their expertise to brew the perfect cup of coffee every single time.
The wife has a check-list which is nicely getting more and more ticks against each item that's a ‘to do’ before we depart and it even has a little clock with the countdown displayed until we go (I think she might be even more excited to get away than me, if that’s possible). But hey, who doesn't get excited by the thought of the moment you land on foreign soil and they open the ’plane doors and as you approach the steps, you immediately get hit by the overseas heat and THAT SMELL which tells you you’re finally there and it's time to chill and leave all of your troubles behind. Ruddy lovely.
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THE EUROPEAN DREAM CONTINUES Well, well, well. Semi-finals, here we come. ‘Dreamland’. As a West Ham fan we seem to be on an extended run of finger-crossing as we got through two legs against the French and now we hopefully have a Wednesday night finale to look forward to. It would make a nice change not to have fortune hiding for once. Come on, Moyes and the boys, you can do it (fingers-crossed).
HAPPY BIRTHDAY It's 60 years since Dr No came out, marking the beginning of the longest running franchise in movie Page 14
It’s almost a rare thing these days, so when it is provided, I think we should make sure everyone knows about it, don't you agree? Just today my daughter’s iPhone developed some serious screen issues and it was immediately panic stations all round as it wasn't that long ago since she’d had the screen replaced due to dropping it and subsequently smashing it. So being as she really needed it that day as she was meeting people and couldn't (didn't really) want to be without it for too long, I headed straight to Tech Kingdom (just around the corner from Giggling Squid in Bond Street) as I had used them before when they were situated in Baddow Road. Funnily enough, I'd only recently recommended them to Ye Olde Edge Bloke a few days previous for some repairs to his laptop. Anyway, I popped in and Mr Sahaf was working hard behind the till, as per usual. However, as soon as I walked through the door he stopped what he was doing and greeted me with the biggest smile and I immediately knew my daughter’s problems would be solved. I cannot stress how very polite and friendly he is enough - it’s something you need to experience for yourselves. After I’d told him what the problem was and my daughter’s desperate situation, he took one look at the ’phone and said, "No worries, sir. Come back in half-an-hour and everything will be fine." So I left to pick up a cheeky sausage roll from Greggs (well, it was free with my O2 app, so how could I not?) then headed back exactly half-an-hour later and do you know what? True to his word, the iPhone was as good as new. Brilliant. So for any issues you might have with laptops, iPhones or gadgets, head straight to Tech-Kingdom, or ring them on 01245 901561 or 07402 817517 for good old fashioned service with a smile. ’Til next time, The Polak x The Edge 077 646 797 44
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Trust your editor on this, readers. You do. You most definitely do. For instance, I am more than happy to listen to the likes of Rick Stein and Monty Don prattling on about their chosen subjects these days, as I find their voices are so very relaxing. I don’t always necessarily take in what they’re saying, but merely listening to them I find has a most calming effect. In fact, the nearest thing Chelmsford’s got to a voice like either of those guys is Robert Sacre. Do any of you readers know him (of Sacre Associates, opposite Chelmsford Police Station)? I first met Robert, ooooh, probably about 40 years ago, not long after I’d first arrived in Chelmsford, after obtaining my very first mortgage. I was advised to go see him with the view to setting up a personal pension plan, and to this day I am mightily relieved that I did. He’s a really great guy, is Robert, with a voice like melting chocolate (and you can quote The Edge on that). When he said “sign here” I’d have signed anywhere, as I was off with the fairies after listening to him for half-an-hour. Another thing you do as you get older is drive more conservatively; more sensibly. There’s no need to be dashing about and accelerating for the sake of it any more, as you’ll eventually get there, wherever that is, even if it takes you 10 to 15 minutes longer. Furthermore, at the age of 60, I now also find myself appreciating those very clever Saga adverts on TV, staring the actor Nicholas Farrell (no, I didn’t know he was called that either, but you’ll recognise him - see right - upon sight, even without knowing his name). Those new ads are all about changing the way people think about age (i.e. 60 being the new 50 etc.) and feeling more positive about, well, being older, which is definitely what folk my age need to be hearing. These days, I also feel a lot more strongly that younger folk should respect age far more. Saying that, they never have, so I guess they never will. Anything more would be wishful thinking. The older you get, the more of a home bird you become, where all of your pleasures are, such as the wine in the cupboard beneath the stairs, the cookie jar, the chocolate etc. The merest thought of not getting home until 10pm Monday to Thursday is preposterous. No, no, no, no, no. These days I like to be in bed by then. What’s more, garden centres start to excite you. Don’t scoff, they do. Because planting something new and seeing it grow and bloom is a truly wonderful experience (and far cheaper than having kids).
Another newbie The Edge is impressed with in Chelmsford (I know, I know, it must be those pills I’m on) is the Brick Lane Bagel Co. in the Meadows Shopping Centre, of all places. I’m bringing you this recommendation because in the opinion of Mrs Edge and I, what we had was ‘over and above’, if you know what I mean. Yes, over and above what we’d expected, in terms of both taste and quality. Have to say, we wouldn’t fancy eating whilst sat at any of their plastic tables in the Meadows, as that’s not the best of surroundings so far as we’re concerned. So what we did was take them home with us and served them up with a bit of salad on the side and some crisps. We bought a Salt Beef with dill pickle and Coleman’s English mustard and an Oak Smoked Salmon & Cream Cheese from their signature range in poppy seeded bagels and had half each. And let The Edge tell you, readers: Delicimo! Aye, reet proper they were. And as it’s springtime, you could always buy yours during your lunchbreak and go eat them whilst sitting in Bell Meadow Park (opposite the back of M&S), perhaps with one of those crafty cans of white wine. Just a thought.
Another place Mrs Edge and I are pretty partial to is the fantastic M&S store at the Clock Tower Retail Park in Chelmsford. Mrs Edge often surprises me on a Friday evening with one of their excellent ‘Meal Deals’ and their Chicken Kiev is a particular favourite of ours, served with dauphinoise (dolphin noise) potatoes and some mixed greens. Sometimes you’ll walk in there and a member of M&S staff will even greet you with either a cheery good morning or a good afternoon which makes all the difference, don’t you think? Then you can pop over to Costa, order a brew and pick up a copy of that particular months Edge magazine, if such takes your whim. But I can’t keep on bigging Chelmsford up like this, can I, readers? Whatever’s happened to me constantly moaning this month? Maybe I’ve eventually seen the light? Or perhaps it was walking up Northampton High Street that’s done it! www.theedgemag.co.uk
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EDGE
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The printing rates to publish The Edge genuinely went up by over £300 this month. It’s a joke, but an incredibly bad one. And that’s what this Edge campaign is all about - quite simply you, the readers, helping me, Ye Olde Edge bloke, out a bit. If I could simply ‘make do’ with the advertising revenue The Edge generates, then believe me, I would. But it’s gone beyond that these days, as in the past we never had Brexit, did we, and what with the paper The Edge is printed on being imported from Europe....you can guess the rest. Which is why I am asking you to donate a minimum £1 per edition and do that on a regular monthly basis, or at least each and every time you pick up a copy of the The Edge. Or, if you’re feeling flush, feel free to donate whatever you feel you can afford, or whatever you feel is appropriate, under the circumstances. Honestly, that’s about as much as I can say on the subject. Only please understand that this is an ongoing situation, rather than any ‘flash in the pan’. The problems I now face aren’t going away. Which is why I am trying to explain the situation to you fair and square as best I can. Have to say, I have been proper touched by the donations some of you have already made and your messages of support. Not everyone likes The Edge, I’m well aware of that. But those of you that do really seem to like it a lot and that honestly warms the cockles of my heart and makes it all worthwhile. So here’s to the next edition and the one after that and the one after that, if you don’t mind playing your part in helping to keep the good ship HMS afloat.
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search: editortheedgemag@gmail.com Oh, and do it as ‘Friends & Family’ (wink) !
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Personally, I don’t think I dream a lot. Either that or I can never remember them. But I woke up having had one the other night after I’d appeared to have flown a helicopter single handedly across the English Channel and ended up somewhere in France. Only the odd thing was, I knew for an absolute certainty that, not being a qualified pilot, there was no way I could get it back to Blighty. That was crystal clear (i.e. it would have been a non-starter me even thinking about sitting in the cockpit as I wouldn’t have known what to do or which buttons to press). So the question begs, how had I flown the damn thing over there in the first place? And pray, where had I got the chopper from? They reckon, do dream psychologists (what sort of a job is that?) that all of our dreams mean something, don’t they? But what on earth can you fathom from a dream such as that? As dreams go, it was alright though. It’s the scary ones I don’t like, as sometimes they proper freak you out. Now and again, I’ll go to bed and actually try to have a dream, by thinking about, say, me and Kelly Brook before I go to sleep. But unfortunately, it usually doesn’t work.
Unbelievably, your editor is 60 these days and sometimes I feel every single day of it. But one of the worst things is, my jeans are forever slipping down my butt and I’ve read it might be because, after the age of 50, a man’s ass starts to gradually flatten out, due to lower amounts of fat in the buttocks. Only I’ve also read that drinking full fat milk is said to restore a man’s bottom to somewhere approaching its former glory, only then it said ‘after working out’. Bugger, as I’m inclined to do that way less than I used to in my younger years. Very much doubt Kim Kardashian will ever suffer with such a hideous problem though.
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The other weekend, the missus said we needed to get some manure to put on our soil (that trees and plants grow out of, obviously) in our garden. So that’s what we did. What’s more, I didn’t question her motives as what a man’s wife says is gospel. Right, chaps? Only bugger, did it smell. And for two whole weeks afterwards too. However, The Edge does like horseshit as it’s kind of inoffensive, so far as shit goes, don’t you think (unlike cat shit or dog shit)? Horses somehow manage to poo lovely oval balls of shit in what appears to be a slightly shiny jacket, so that each parcel almost looks like a waxy Barbour coat (without sleeves). Something like that at any rate.
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EDGE
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Ale
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LYON AWAY By the time you are reading this, West Ham will be preparing to play in their first European semifinal game in almost 50 years, after an unbelievable 3-0 victory away from home against Olympique Lyon (winning the twolegged tie 4-1 on aggregate). At 39 years of age, I am yet to see West Ham (or England, for that matter) win anything and just to reach the Europa League semifinal stage is quite some achievement, especially when you consider just how much time has elapsed since I have been supporting the club and the time we have spent in the Championship (the old division two).
Up next is a difficult tie against a strong Eintract Frankfurt side and whilst domestically they are having a mixed season, they have just dumped out the tournament favourites, Barcelona. But us fans are all dreaming of a European Final on 18th May and are cautiously optimistic that we can beat any team on our day, having already beaten the likes of Man. City, Man Utd., Liverpool, Chelsea, Sevilla and Lyon this season. The reason for my caution is because this is West Ham we are talking about and despite those great wins, we could just as easily go out to Germany and lose 0-4. The other semi-final sees Rangers, who have also done a brilliant job to reach this stage, versus the new tournament favourites, RB Leipzig. That means we could see an allGerman tie in the final, or hopefully an all British tie between the Hammers and Rangers (or something in between). All 4 clubs are well supported and it makes for a very difficult situation. Most of the flights and accommodation in Seville (where the final is being held) have now sold out and to
have any chance of booking a trip out there, you must start looking now. The problem is, anyone with an ounce of superstition doesn’t want to book tickets for a game they are not yet in and tempt fate. Trouble is, the other side of the coin is to miss out completely. I wrote in my column a few months ago that anyone outside of West Ham may not fully appreciate just how good Declan Rice is and that he will one day go on to be one of the best footballers in the world. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that both West Ham and England have been performing far better with him in their respective sides. The away leg in Lyon showed Rice at his brilliant best. He protected the back four superbly, used the ball well, showed athleticism with his nonstop running and chipped in with a goal too. He is a true leader on the pitch and a player that we fans adore. It’s a double-edged sword though, because these higher profile games will naturally attract much more interest in him and it now seems a case of when, rather than if, he leaves the club for pastures new. Which is yet another incentive for us all to want to win this competition; hopefully that, coupled with Champions League football next season, might coax him to stay for one more year. Irrespective of the semi-final
Billy Hinken result, our European journey has been a great experience for all West Ham fans who, for many, have never had the opportunity to support our team abroad. It’s certainly been one chalked off the ‘bucket list’ for me personally and I couldn’t have asked for a better city to visit than Lyon. The place is massive, with lovely restaurants and smart cafes at every turn and a lovely central plaza in the city centre. We were lucky enough to ‘set up camp’ alongside the river and with the mixture of some nice food, a few drinks and the sound of ‘Bubbles’ echoing around the streets, I was in dreamland. So please, West Ham, please don’t let this epic adventure stop anytime soon.
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Spot the tourist
David Moyes is doing an incredible job with a small squad and owners who are unwilling to invest commensurately to the levels we are currently performing at.
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ONLY JOKING! B.T.F.
Couldn’t find my phone this morning. Last night I put it under my pillow, only I woke up to find a shiny new one pound coin instead. Fecking Blue Tooth Fairy.
LITTLE BIG HORN Just found out that my Great Great Great Uncle Jebediah died at the battle of Little Big Horn. Yes, how about that? To be fair though, he wasn’t actually involved. He was camping in the field next door and went to complain about the noise.
THE HONEYMOON: DAY SIX Day six of our honeymoon arrived and the missus was proving to be insatiable. “Please,” I begged her, “please, please can you leave my willy alone tonight?” But she was having none of it. “Darling,” she countered, “we’re married, so I think you’ll find it’s now our willy.”
FULL-TIME POSITION A young lady had reached the final round of a job interview selection process and the panel brought to her attention that she might be required to do the work of two men. "That’s very disappointing indeed,” she replied. "I was hoping for a full-time position.”
BEING A BUS DRIVER Being a bus driver definitely has its perks. For instance, I can say quietly to myself: "You lot are a bunch of w@nkers.” Then check the interior mirror, tap the brakes twice, and just watch as all the passengers appear to totally agree with me.
HUSBAND & WIFE Husband: "When I die, I’d like it to be whilst I’m having sex.” Wife: "At least it’ll be quick then.”
SHE SAID I don’t want to contradict the Old Wives Tale that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but the fact is, I have found it far quicker to drill straight through the ribcage.
TOUGH When things seem to be getting especially tough, ask yourself this question: "Have I shit myself today?” No? Well then, think yourself lucky, as you’re clearly having a far better day of it than me.
ALL YOU CAN EAT ‘All you can eat’ restaurants should surely be allowed to turn away chubbies, the same as bars can refuse to serve drunks?
BIRTHDAYS You do realise that every time you celebrate a birthday you are also celebrating a time when your parents had unprotected sex?
FAIRLY ANGRY Cross??? Me??? Just because I started an email with: “Listen, shit for brains…“
PESSIMISTIC I was going to make a point of trying to have a little less pessimistic day at work today, but I’m probably wasting my time.
DISPOSITION DIET When the missus goes on one of her ‘all bacon, chocolate and gin diets’, amazingly her whole disposition changes and she can actually be approached without the need of an upturned chair and a whip.
24 HOUR TIME TRIAL I wonder whether I can go the entire day without maassssttttttuuuurrrrrrrbbbaaatttttiiiiiggggggg??? Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.
FAIRYTALES To those who say ‘white privilege’ is a myth, answer me this: who is the heroine in Goldilocks & The Three Bears?
PERSPECTIVE Remember not to hate your life. It’s usually just a matter of perspective. For instance, I have a mate who exercises every single day, has sex at least twice a day and gets to read a couple of books every week, yet he constantly complains just how much he hates being stuck in prison.
SPERM CLINIC Had my first appointment at the Sperm Clinic this morning. The young nurse present asked me if I’d care to masturbate in the cup. I said, “Oh, I didn’t think I’m ready for tournament play just yet.”
STEP-MUMS Disney teaches us to hate our step-mums, where as Pornhub appears to have a completely different agenda.
SWEAR WORD 3YO: "Mum, what’s a swear word?” Mum: "Erm, well, it’s not a very nice word that should ever be said aloud.” 3YO: "You mean like damn?” Mum: (phew) "Yes, exactly. It’s not a word that Mummy would like to hear you say.” 3YO: "F cking knew it.”
*
YOUNG LOVE My boyfriend told me I was fickle. I wasn’t having that. So I got a new boyfriend.
A CHIVALROUS ACT So let’s get this correct. When you open a door for someone, it’s called ‘being chivalrous’, right? Yet when I do it, everyone on the submarine starts yelling at me.
PRETTY CHILLY I’m not saying it’s cold out, but heaven’s above, I just saw a Scouser with his hands in his own pockets, bum-bum!
THREE LITTLE WORDS After my prostate examination, the doctor left. Then a nurse entered the room and whispered three little words that every man dreads: “Who was that?”
DING-DONG, AVON CALLING As I answered the front door dressed in high heals, stockings, suspenders, a short leather mini skirt and bright red lipstick, the Avon lady asked: "Hello, sir. Is your wife at home"? To which I replied: "Take a wild f cking guess, * love?"
SIZE MATTERS Otherwise there’d be products such as three inch dildos being advertised in the classified section of newspapers, wouldn’t there?
SPAM BOX My mum advised me to check my junk, then shortly afterwards slapped me, saying: "You knew I meant your spam emails.”
BREAK-IN Detective: "Can anyone corroborate your alibi?” Baddie: "Haha. Nice try, copper. As if I’m gonna tell you who helped me with the break-in.”
MORNING COFFEE Did you know that by replacing that first cup of coffee of a morning with a cold glass of refreshing water can leave you far better hydrated and in a god awful mood until lunchtime?
AUTOCORRECT Autocorrect can be such a bitch. I’ve just texted my mate and asked him if he fancies going for a wank beside the river. Damn it, I meant to say canal.
SEX MACHINE My girlfriend just called me a sex machine. Well, actually, she said I was a ‘f cking tool’. * But hey, I know what she meant.
WEIRD? How weird is that? Yet another invoice from something calling themselves the Memory Erasure Clinic? I’ll ignore it. It’s probably yet another scam.
All jokes published are supplied by Edge readers. Please send your ‘egg yokes’ to shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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During the current Ukrainian invasion, it has become apparent that here in the west we are involved in an information war to counter the continued Russian denials that are persistently being played out on the TV and internet. With the removal of Russia Today from the European/US/British TV platforms, the Western News Channels have had free reign in reporting the atrocities occurring in Ukraine and they’ve done a brilliant job. The most effective news has come from CNN which produces accurate and chilling reports from the front line in Ukraine, closely followed by SKY. What is important is that CNN is not only widely screened into most homes in Europe and the US, but also throughout the Middle East and Asia and into just about every hotel room throughout the world. CNN claim that CNN International can be seen in more than 150 million television households and hotel rooms in more than 200 countries and territories worldwide. The same may be said for BBC News and BBC World, though probably on a lesser scale. SKY News, now partnered with NBC News, like CNN now has a significant global news presence. So, the upshot is, western led news channels can directly transmit the images from Ukraine to a worldwide audience, thus effectively negating the lies and propaganda emanating from the Kremlin.
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Yet despite this, The United Nations (UN) watches impotently on the sidelines, debating, debating, debating, and doing nothing, AS IT ALWAYS DOES. Have a look at what it did in the Balkans Conflict – NOTHING; Yemen – NOTHING; Darfur in the Sudan – NOTHING. So, what is the point of the UN? They don’t go after the criminals responsible for committing the genocide; that’s left to the International Criminal Court in The Hague which prosecutes those accused of War Crimes and genocide. This, however, may take anything up to 25 years before a case is finally heard and prosecuted. So, what does the UN actually do? Not a lot, it seems. Many years ago, the UN used to send in a peacekeeping force known as The United Nations Protection Force (UNPROFOR) into troubled areas, but that fell apart in the Balkan Wars of 1991-2001 where UNPROFOR was a complete and utter failure in preventing both genocide and ethnic cleansing. So again, what is the purpose of the UN? It doesn’t even provide aid for the now millions of Ukrainian refugees who are fleeing their country - that burden is being shouldered by those Eastern European Countries, specifically, Poland, Rumania, and Moldova. So, Page 24
where oh where is the UN Refugee Agency (better known as the UNHCR)? Well, its website states it can be contacted at its office in Kyiv. That’s it. ‘Contact the Office’! Really? And what –-report that 10 million Ukrainians are fleeing their towns, cities, their country? During the UN vote condemning Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, 141 nations voted against Russia with only 5 voting in Russia’s favour (together with 35 abstentions). But guess what action was taken? NONE. And who do you think chaired the Security Council of the UN during March? You guessed it - RUSSIA! So, every time a major security issue was debated, Russia blocked any proposed action. So once again, what does the UN do? Talk, Talk, Talk, not even trying to set up peace negotiations - that’s been left for Turkey and Israel to organise. So again, what is the purpose of the UN? The International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague is now preparing a case of Genocide and Crimes against Humanity with the aim of prosecuting those Russian leaders responsible. The ICC is a separate and independent entity from the UN. Cases are referred to it from a variety of sources such as National Police Forces, Individual National Governments and from the UN Security Council - but as if that’s likely to happen with Russia and China occupying chairs on the Security Council. Wait a minute. Peace negotiations are starting. Let’s hope they’re more successful than the last round held in early March, when the delegates appeared to have been poisoned - I wonder by whom? Surely not by sectors of the Russian Secret Service (FSB and GRU) - I mean, aren’t they innocent of previous poisonings? Currently, as I write, NATO is not involved, but I fear that as more of Ukraine is flattened and the number of refugees rises to the tens of millions, NATO – well, at least those European countries being threatened - will enter the fray and where will that lead us? One thing is sure, the UN will do nothing other than talk about it. The Edge 01245 348256
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OMG theEDGE
figured it had pretty much seen everything.
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How wrong can you be?
shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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Gosh, being a woman - well, being anyone - these days is tough. There’s just so much to be aware of, be cautious of, and it's all a bit much, don't you think? The 80s and 90s were definitely easier times. Nothing was taken too seriously. You just went about your business. No-one took offence too much. You know, we just lived. Trouble is, I’m going off-piste as regards want I actually want to address. Which is, nobody warns you. No-one actually warns you just how very tiring being a woman will become. Why is no-one speaking about this? I'm talking for ‘normal folk’ here, not those who have everything at their disposal and have got a relatively fabulous life. I am a 34 year old born-and-bred East Londoner, now living in Essex. I met my now-husband aged 18 and got married at 29, which is something you barely hear these days. I come from Islander parents in a catholic household, which meant the usual ‘no boys, study hard’ mantra and so forth. Yet 40s/50s women were mainly housewives with numerous kids, looking after the home and the children, which was a job in itself. Only fast-forward to 2022 and we now all want a career, a husband, a job, a sex life, a personal life and hobbies. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Working full-time, pleasing your man/woman, keeping a tidy house, meeting friends and having a hobby quite truthfully is all a bit draining. So how have we been wired to think this is all so very, very normal and right? We've adapted, yes. But it still isn't easy, is it? I just feel there needs to be a little more transparency to it all. Because there has to be a reason why divorce rates have reached sky high levels? And is this why we have more singletons aged over 35? Or is it somehow dependent upon location? Has social media affected what we want and how we see life these days? Everything seems to be easy access for everyone, what with all of these ‘love shows’ on TV. Questions over questions, yet nobody talks about it. Well, not freely at any rate. Before you enter marriage and have kids etc., ask yourself how is this going to affect your mental health? Yes, really. We have one child and we constantly get asked when's the next one due? Yet I hardly have time to brush my hair, let alone have another child. It's not easy, it never will be easy, but we will always rise above it. But my goodness, honestly, after so many years, if you ever catch your other-half having fun on their own, while watching something or other, then leave them to it, simply because you haven't got the energy and you know they are happy. Yes, it is great, being a mum and being married into the bargain. But there definitely needs to be a wider talk and a reality check when it comes to the things I have attempted to address, because parenthood and marriage really does take its toll on everyday folk. Francesca & Christina Founders Ava Grey Marketing avagreymarketing@gmail.com Page 26
The 2022 Oscars may now only ever be remembered for the ‘the slap heard around the world’, yet amongst the memes and ruined careers there was actually an awards ceremony that took place. The Oscars is often maligned by the general cinema going public for the academy being out of touch and awarding films gongs that nobody actually sees or cares about. But is this fair? Do the films that walk away with the golden statues deserve their day in the sun, or not? So let’s take a look at this year’s winning films and see if the academy got it right. CODA (Best Picture / Best Supporting Actor) Watch on Apple TV I reviewed CODA back in The Edge last summer, saying that it was a great film, so I wholeheartedly agreed with the win on this one. It’s just a shame then, that this coming of age story, in which a young girl grows up around her deaf family, will be missed by many as it remains hidden away in obscurity on Apple TV. My Oscar verdict: Winner. Dune (Best Cinematography / Best original score / Best visual effects) Watch on SKY / NOW TV Dune was never going to win Best Director or Best Picture, due to it being half of a 2 part saga. So hopefully next time, as Dune absolutely deserves the high praise and was my number one film of 2021. Its amazing visuals and music bring the hard to read book alive on the big screen in some style. A $200 million budget art house sci-fi masterpiece of the likes I didn’t think we would see at the cinema any more. My Oscar verdict: Winner. The Power of the Dog (Best Director) Watch on Netflix Most Oscars deliver an award that leaves you scratching your head, and this is the one. I knew it would win off the back of its BAFTA haul, and yet to me and most people I have spoken to, The Power of the Dog is a very average movie. It’s a neo western in which ranger Benedict Cumberbatch doesn’t’ take too kindly to his brother’s new wife and son-in-law….and…well, not much else really happens. It looks nice, I guess, but it is oh so ponderously slow. My Oscar verdict: Loser. Drive My Car (Best International film) Rent or buy from Amazon The fact is, I have no problem with slow movies in which not much seems
to happen. Case in point, Drive My Car, a 3 hour Japanese movie in which we follow the life of a stage director who is coping with the sudden loss of his wife not long after finding out about her infidelity. I say not much seems to happen, as in fact there is a lot to unpack in this thoughtful and contemplative movie that draws you in and becomes a beautiful work of escapism. And you will also have a strange compulsion to go and buy a bright red SAAB 900 after watching it too! My Oscar verdict: Winner. King Richard (Best Actor) Available to rent or buy I must admit, I wasn’t really looking forward to this one, feeling it would be overly preachy. Yet King Richard, based around the lives of tennis superstars Venus and Serena Williams and their coach and father Richard Williams, is a classic tale of triumph over adversity and is undeniably well acted from its main star, Will Smith. It’s such a shame then that his overreaction on the big night took away from all the hard work he had put in here. My Oscar Verdict: Winner. Belfast (Best Screenplay) Available to rent or buy I thought this was a shoe-in for best picture. It has everything the academy loves about Oscar winning films. It’s black and white, it’s full of classic British actors, it celebrates the golden age of Hollywood and it’s set around true life historical conflict. So surely a must win? But no. It went to CODA instead and I feel deservedly so, as I found Belfast to be lacking in that special certain something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it was all just a bit too dull for my liking. My Oscar Verdict: Loser. Encanto (Best animated feature) Watch on Disney Plus Diney has a story telling problem. So desperate are they to get away from traditional fairy tales and instead push their female empowerment agenda, that classic tales of good vs evil and heroic quests have been sidelined for non-stories such as Encanto, in which there are some magical powers, some songs and, erm….something else happens. Utterly forgetful. My Oscar Verdict: Loser. The Eyes of Tammy Faye (Best Actress) Watch on Disney Plus We Brits are not too familiar with the US phenomenon of the so called televangelist, so most of us will never have heard of Tammy Fay. Still, this intimate look at the extraordinary life of the popular preacher follows her rise, fall and eventual redemption it what is a fascinating true story. Jessica Chastain is truly transformative in the role and has a strong supporting cast in Andrew Garfield and Vincent D’Onofrio. My Oscar Verdict: Winner. The Edge 01245 348256
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Max Headroom’s
BIZARRE NEWS
THE MOST BORING PERSON IN THE WORLD Scientists have discovered what they believe to be the most boring person in the world. If you live in a small town and you’re an accountant who likes watching TV, then we’re afraid you’re at the extreme risk of being a total snooze inspiring bore. Religion, bird watching and canoeing are now seen as the dullest hobbies known to mankind, whilst working in data analysis, cleaning or banking are also signs you might not be a very interesting person to have a convo with. Some weirdly named doctor who led the study said: “Boring people are generally disliked and avoided by others. The irony is, studying boredom is actually quite interesting and has many real-life impacts. Perceptions can change, but people may not take the time to speak or interact with those perceived to have ‘boring jobs and/or hobbies’, instead choosing to give such creatures an exceedingly wide berth. “What’s more, they don’t get a second chance to prove people wrong or break such negative stereotypical views, while the fact that people choose to avoid such folk can lead to social ostracisation and increased loneliness, leading to a negative impact on their lives.” The study, carried out by the Department of Psychology, also revealed that being perceived as boring means people are also likely to be viewed as having low competence and a lack of interpersonal warmth. Sadly, the knock-on effect is that those judged as being boring may be at greater risk of self-harm, addiction or mental health issues. The Doctor/Quack added: “It was very interesting to me to see the study showed that boring people were not seen as competent, because I would have assumed that accountants, although dull, might be seen as being ‘boring, but effective’ and the perfect people to do a decent job on our tax returns. But the truth of the matter is that people like bankers and accountants are highly capable and have power in society, so perhaps we should try not to upset them by stereotyping them as being boring and cut them some slack?”
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Apparently, the most boring jobs are: Data Analysis Accounting Tax/Insurance Cleaning Banking Whereas the five most exciting jobs are: Performing Arts Science Journalism Health Professional Teaching But it’s all bollocks. So really, the advice of the Max Headroom crew here at The Edge is if you are an accountant, or keen on data analysis, tax, insurance, banking, or indeed cleaning....hey, just roll with it. Page 28
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MOTCO
Man on the Clapham Omnibus CRISPS
So here we are once again with a scenario that leaves us looking like we are having more comebacks than Elton John and Frank Sinatra. For the record, big Frank ‘retired’ in 1971, was back in 1973 and gave his true final live concert in 1995. As for Elton, well, he’s on his final farewell tour right now. The man tried to say farewell decades ago when he announced in 1977: “I haven’t been touring for a long time and it’s been a painful decision whether to go back on the road … but I’ve made a decision and this is the last show I’m gonna do.” Before he was back on tour in 1979! However, I digress, because this month I will be mainly talking crisps. Yes, it’s the most happiness you can get in a 30gram serving! Figures from Mintel reveal that we here in the UK munch our way through a tonne of crisps every three minutes. But what does that translate to in the real world? Well, that would be enough to fill a telephone box every 43 seconds or an Olympic size swimming pool every fourteen hours. I was thinking that 43 seconds is about the time it takes me to eat a standard bag, let alone a multi-pack version. Also, have you ever wondered why everything is compared to a sodding Olympic size swimming pool? Lovely, savoury, salty crisps. Truly classless and fit for any occasion. Firstly, to our overseas readers, and there are a few (please see page 10 for confirmation of the fact), we are talking potato chips, which are known as crisps in the UK. We may be a small island, but we have a BIG APPETITE for the humble potato crisp, to the tune of £2.7billion pounds worth, in fact. That is potato crisps and potato-based snacks for the record. And in the ‘snacks’ part we include all manner of shapes and discs and tubes and bits, but are all flagged under the crisp banner. How does that work out in tonnage? Well, between March 2020 and March 2021, it was 163,000 tons. But no, I don’t know how many individual bags that is! I mentioned to a work colleague that I was going to write about crisps in The Edge and he replied, “Ah, a worthy topic. The food of kings. In fact, I’ve just eaten two bags of Walkers S&V after my lunch out of sheer boredom.” Naturally I responded approvingly and mentioned the fact that yes, crisps do rather lend themselves to boredom eating, and therein lies a problem. Because it doesn’t take a long time to eat a standard bag of crisps and it doesn’t relieve much boredom in real terms, despite the immense enjoyment. A family bag of crisps will certainly take longer to eat, but still there’s no significant dent in one’s boredom threshold as a result of. Now I have to make a reference here, as I have discovered, online, something called the ‘Museum of Crisps’ and this is where some of my tasty crispy facts have come from. The first crisp recipe was made around 1817, but we had to wait a while to see a print reference. That was believed to be by Charles Dickens in ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ in 1879. It refers to the snack as “husky chips of potatoes”. Sadly, the world had to wait until 1920 for the first commercial crisp company to enter the world and start a love affair that shows no sign of ending. Crisps remained crisps for a serious period of time and its just plain fried potato slices for the masses. We had to wait until 1954, can you believe, before the first flavours were added. But things have been busy since then and there are now over 1,300 flavours to tickle our tastebuds. The humble crisp can certainly divide. There were members of my family, my dad included, who enjoyed a crisp himself, but were decid-
edly against the crunch. The death stare could come your way for any excessive crunching. But surely that is part of the pleasure and is a key part of the experience. A fresh, decent crisp, such as Walkers, have a decibel rating of 70.6. In comparison, that is slightly louder than the sound of a car passing you by at 65mph from a distance of 25 feet, or the noise of a vacuum cleaner in full flow. A scientific study showed that consumers who eat crisps with headphones become bored with crisps more quickly. Now I have an issue with that. I mean, how quick is quick? Is it one or two hours, possibly, because I eat plenty of crisp while wearing headphones under scientific conditions, yet my boredom threshold does not diminish one jot with all of the salty, savoury goodness going on. The mighty Cheese & Onion were the first flavoured crisps, the process developed by an Irishman who owned Tayto crisps in the 1950’s. His process was licensed all over the world an, of course, made him a good few quid in the process. By the way, Tayto are a particularly good crisp and are available in London, so if you ever see them, you have it on good authority (mine) that the C&O flavour are superb. Salt & Vinegar remain a close and constant second in the flavour stakes, and rightly so. Whilst we are on the subject, here is a flavour joke to tickle your tastebuds. A man walks into a bar and says, “Do you have any helicopter flavoured crisps?” The barman shakes his head quizzically and replies, “No, sorry. We only have plane!” Ouch. As part of my intensive research for this article, and no, it wasn’t a family size meaty flavour multi-pack, I looked at some trade journals. They report that despite the much greater range of healthier snacks available nowadays, not to mention government campaigns, we still prefer the humble crisp to any other snack. In fact, we take our crisps very seriously indeed, as yet more industry studies tell us that we demand continued flavour development. Eight-in-ten of you crisp scoffers out there think that it is fun to try new crisp flavours. What’s more, despite our unbending loyalty to standard, no frill crisps, crisp addicts request products combining both different flavours and different textures. Then it becomes exotic and daring as a mix of flavours appeals to 47% of eaters of crisps, while combinations of ingredients with different textures appeal to 37%. Crisps are the true Martini of the food world - any time, any place, anywhere, which is a joke for those of a certain age. There was another version of that gag, but as a family-friendly magazine, of sorts, I really daren’t risk it. However, I guess, as I per my norm, I should end on another cheesy gag - not a cheesy & onion gag, but definitely a cracker. Three bags of crisps were walking down the street when a car pulled up and a man shouted out, “Hey, do you want a lift?” “No thanks,” came the reply. Wait for it... “We’re Walkers.” Yours aye,
Editor’s Comment: Have to say I’m a big fan of Tesco’s Finest Prawn Marie Rose crisps (150g) and can easily scoff the entire lot in one go! shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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birthday and I used to sleep in that and zip it all the way up like a shroud with just a tiny bit of my face showing. Icicles used to hang from the guttering and my Nan would go out there with a broom and knock them down, all the time telling us that if they fell off they could go through your head and kill you (because she knew a woman who knew a woman that it had happened to, or so she told us).
When I was a child I was always scared of the dark, but after this month’s ‘electric shock’ increase, now I’m more scared of the light as it’s enough to give anyone a heart attack! They keep on telling us that this Global Warming stuff is going to kill us, but surely a few degrees of warmer weather is better than us all dying of hypothermia? But have we all become just a little too accustomed to sitting around in flimsy t-shirts and shorts and expecting to be warm? The growth of male underwear nowadays far exceeds the women’s market. It’s alright for the likes of David Beckham and Dave Gandy to be sprawled out in adverts with just their designer underpants on, watching TV, because they can afford it. But for the rest of us, without 5 layers of clothing on, Netflix and Chill has taken on a whole new meaning. Back in the day, my Nana would wash and hang my Grandad’s Long John’s on the line each week, along with his thermal vests. It was simply a case of having to back then. People talk about today’s winters being worse, but I am not so sure, as growing up, not many houses had central heating. Central Heating only really got going in the 1980s. Before that we had electric bar heaters with pretend ‘plastic coal’ that used to light up, or if you were dead posh, you had a gas fire! Growing up, our house was always freezing. We would always light the gas oven for 10 minutes in the morning, open the door and stand there, just to get warm, before washing ourselves in the kitchen sink.There was regularly ice inside on our bathroom windows, which was single pane glass - none of your trendy double glazing back then. As kids, we would find it great fun to scratch pictures in the ice. People used to buy stick on window film to try and mimic double glazing. Blimey, I can even remember our toilet freezing one year and my Nan rushing upstairs with a kettle of hot water with my Grandad in hot pursuit, screaming: “You will crack the pan, you soppy old moo!”
One Easter it snowed hard, the temperature plummeted and the electricity went off. The whole family were stuck at ours, so we all decided everyone would sleep in the front room with the coal fire on. We kids thought it was the best thing ever as blankets, pillows, cushions and coats were all hastily gathered to make a sort of a camp. My mum and my Auntie began boiling water on the gas stove to make tea. With the power out, the gas stove would not light, so my Auntie lit it with a match and singed her hair and eyebrows. Everyone kept ‘emergency candles’ in the drawer back then - scented candles hadn’t even been thought off. So with all 20 of us in the room, and the dog - the grownups taking the chairs and us kids laying at their feet - the grown-ups began telling us kids ghost stories - until they remembered the loo was outside and none of us would go out there alone. By the morning my Uncle had burnt his feet on the coal fire embers and the dog had somehow managed to get itself in pole position in front of the fire. What’s more, everyone was as stiff as a board. The cold used to rise from underneath the floorboards and on a windy day, the carpet would lift up as no-one could afford underlay. My Nan used to nail the carpet down in places. But despite it all, we kids loved it. My farmhouse was always cold too. I eventually got used to it being only 9 degrees in the kitchen in the mornings. Log fires might sound romantic, but believe me, when you’re sweeping up the mess in the morning from the night before and then trying to get the fire to light, you soon realise you hate your other half. None of that ‘50 Shades’ tied to a beam nonsense in a farmhouse. The only safe word we had was ‘hypothermia’. You used to have to dress up in multiple layers before going to bed.
Because if he was, The Edge would really fancy our chances in Qatar this December. But as things stand, I guess Raheem Sterling will simply have to do - oh and his ‘goal’ against Liverpool at the Etihad last month didn’t look as though it was offside so far as this publication is concerned. As we all know though, ‘it’s the hope that kills you’ and one thing’s for certain; an England team without Harry Kane in the starting XI is a truly depressing thought, same as it was without Beckham or Rooney in the past. Harry Kane simply gets better and better and better. The Edge has never known a striker quite like him. So what say we wrap him up in cotton wool right now until just before the start of the competition as a precaution? The thing of it is, there’s always a certain ‘magic in the air’ in December, isn’t there? After all, it’s Christmas (which surely qualifies as the earliest use of the ‘C-word’ in the Edge’s entire history), so there’s bound to be even more of the stuff floating about this year. Because add to the proceedings the honey pot that is the World Cup with England actually one of the favourites to win it and you’re taking magic to a whole new level. In fact, you’re completely smashing it out of the ball-park. Obviously The Edge wouldn’t got so far as to say we’ll win it, because as much as it is a Gareth Southgate fan, he’ll never be an elite manager, we’re still a bit flaky in defense, and Jordan Pickford has always appeared to be ‘a liability waiting to happen’. But, we might, just might, fluke it, like we did with ‘the goal that never was’ in the final at Wembley against the Germans in 1966. Whatever happens, I’ll be glued to the TV, urging our boys on and willing Harry Kane to deliver some of his very own special magic.
I’ve now moved into my new home which is a state-of-the-art heat sealed house with no carbon emissions. It’s also undergoing a total refurb, so the heating has not been on at all yet. I appreciate it hasn’t been that cold, but even so, I have invested in an electric blanket, which are cheap to buy (Amazon £14.99) and less than 20p a week to run. These new ones even switch on and off once your desired temperature has been reached. However, on the plus side, nothing burns calories and fat faster than being cold, so if you want that summer beach body in a few weeks time, turn off your heating!
Unfortunately, I guess we are all stuck with huge energy bills and high inflation We used to sleep under eiderdowns and for a long time to come. But maybe two blankets - duvets weren’t even a thing in can live as cheaply as one and it’s time to those days. And I am talking about the invite a neighbour round to be a platonic 1970s, by the way, not the 1900s! bed buddy for their body heat? I remember I got a sleeping bag for my Page 30 tracie123@aol.com
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www.athomewithtrishinteriors.co.uk 2a Trinity Road, Chelmsford, CM2 6HR
INDIAN CUISINE
BILASH Indian Cuisine
ELECTRICAL
“Your MAN with a VAN!”
www.newmslandscapes .co.uk
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shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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Page 31
204208 Print Acumen The Edge 32pp May(3682) 2022/04/26 18:26:21
Why not refurb your existing conservatory?
CLADDING
Approved Installers