Millom in the Dock Read online

  And what of the Golden Fleece? That’s actually a nearby pub at Calderbridge which has a replica of the actual fleece hanging on the wall outside (local sheep, drugged and sprayed gold). The pub is very popular playing host to reams of Jason and the Argonaut digitally remade actors with veeery realistic, really fresh looking amputations.

  I may bend the truth like Beckham bends a ball but I don’t lie that often. The pub did some especially good business with The Argonauts widescreen digital remake of a remake … with a two hour extra fight scene involving the entire crew and several quite unwilling Greenpeace members and … a surprised lobster! Which is quite a film to see and beats Rocky Horror hands down, (because Christopher Biggins isn’t in it).

  Actors are rife in Claderbridge because of the number of times the crab scene has to be reshot using Brecht and Stanislavski conditioned and struggling new thespians. They can’t get Brad Pitt I’m told maybe that’s cos he’s a good actor. Or doesn’t like genuine imitation plastic crabs or something? That’s the magic of Sellafield beach M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader.

  (NB: since I started writing this brilliant piece, Calder Hall has closed down).

  Between the two halves of the plant is a middle bit (well fancy that!) a river … The Calder. This is a clear freshwater river because it is a clear, unpolluted river it (if you can believe that? It’s easier to believe that women have a sensible logic system ... LOL! Joke) contains healthy fish and, because of its unique positioning (the massive planet and I end up living in this stretch of river … syndrome), these fish are ‘specimens’. Baby! …These fish are B-I-G! If you choose to go fishing on this particular part of the river don’t climb the fence because it’s naughty and the site police will get you, tie you to a post on the beach then throw bricks at the crabs, gracefully dozing between feeding takes. Ask permission at the main gate.

  You will be given a fishing permit and a free ‘I’ve been to Sellafield’ T shirt but, your rod and tackle will be taken from you. “Oh charming” says you … “oh sensible” says I. You will then be taken to the fishing lodge. Here you will be kitted out with the equipment necessary for the landing of such local specimens: a pair of thick soled rubber wellies, a powerful Plasma Cannon and, a little green (for camouflage) folding chair. These cannons are similar to the ones they used in the Ghostbusters film (I’ve seen it in Millom’s cinema). There is a lead attached to each one, this lead is very long, un-commercially long for a change. You are at freedom to choose your fishing plot … although behind a bush is recommended. The procedure is then as follows.

  Set up the little folding chair and then walk one hundred metres to the side of a reactor, with a modified three pin plug in hand, comes complete with 3000 amp fuse! The Starship Enterprise’s three pins are fused for a mere 2600 amp surge-protection and that is enough to manipulate time, never mind stop a ‘tiddler’. Plug in to one of the available sockets of which there are plenty and you are ready to angle. (Since the reactors were shut down … power packs have been provided to anglers).

  If it happens to be Summer whatever you do, do not be tempted to walk to the river’s edge, sit on the bank and remove your wellies in order to dangle your hot sweaty feet in the water while holding the cannon casually under your arm … ready for the big one coming under the bridge at a good rate of knots towards you, ‘lunch’ playing heavily on its fishy mind. If you should decide to ignore this warning and you have a mobile phone, place it about twenty metres from yourself, especially if it is one of those expensive diddly doo daa WAP ones with photo technology. There is absolutely no point in vaporising that too, may as well leave it for the site police. By the way if you do this silly trick your next of kin will be billed for the Cannon, expensive at 1.2 million quid each, minus sights and VAT. If however you do manage to land … sorry, stop a fish, usually a salmon or a trout (don’t stare into its eyes pre-stop by the way, it’ll have you, they can hypnotise their prey, a bit like Kaa in the Jungle Book) and, it is too big for your wall, the canteen will purchase the meat, even on such a grand scale. If you have a big wall, the fish can be stuffed and fitted with singing capabilities. This will take seven car batteries wired in series to operate. The fish can be very loud so be warned, don’t crank up the volume after 11 p.m. Also if you require the tail to move, don’t let your friend/neighbour sit near it … they may end up with a surgical collar and sue you.

  Yes, the Millom lot stand there staring through the wire at the Cooling Towers watching the steam billow from the tops. The tour ticket says (if the traveller still has it) …

  SPECIAL!!! MILLOM EXPRESS TOUR DAY TRIP TO THE CUMBERLAND CLOUD FACTORY!

  Well it’s something to tell their grandchildren. It’s cruel telling an untruth but that’s tourism.

  Of course, some of their loved ones work there, so shouldn’t they know that it’s a bomb factory? Well no, because that official secrets act requires them to make up another story about what the place does.

  THE CLOUD FACTORY IN FULL PRODUCTION MODE – COURTESTY OF B N F L

  (They don’t make clouds any more)

  Well then …

  Brick and Togo, refreshed from drinking with the actors in the Fleece but unsurprisingly without cameo roles (don’t want to scare the crab and frighten it off), then seesaw like mad to get the passengers home in time for tea …

  Menu: Rabbit and banking allotment veg sarnies with Sellafield trout, Manky caught it/fought it, didn’t need the gun. Brick yearned to put it on his wall and sing along with it but got it jammed in his porch. That’s SIDETRACK(ed) M’lud.

  M’lud: “Thank you Mr Lassut, you never know, I may one day purchase a ticket just for the experience. Court will now end for today and begin again at 10.30 tomorrow morning”.

  “All rise for M’lud”.

  ***

  M’lud: “Good morning everyone, what’s on the agenda today Mr Lassut?”

  Well M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader … self-entertainment! If you will excuse the entendre temptation. Graham Keeley of the Daily Mirror says … “In the evenings and at weekend, they have to find their own entertainment”. Yes, oh yes M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, they do too! M’lud how about this as an example of self-created fun! May I ask you M’lud, do you like to boogie?

  M’lud: “Oh by Jove yes, crank up the volume and you may easily mistake me for Travolta”.

  Thank you M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, I really do fail to see the problem with making your own entertainment? Hasn’t it been said that television ruined the art of conversation? Making your own fun is creative and causes the fizzy energy called enthusiasm to dance through the trillions of cells comprising the body. It would also nurture the minds of many a child if the parents did not count so much on outside influences to take away their responsibility of reminding their children just what brilliant little creators they are. It would also aid our planet if people chose to think for themselves and therefore create their own reality rather than letting someone else lead the way, especially if it is destructive and therefore non-serving to the whole. Here then is one way some of the people of Millom have a knees up …

  On Saturday nights in the Workies (Working Men’s Club), everybody jives to JR’s 78s disco. The 78 doesn’t actually refer to any year it refers to the playing speed of the record collection which came with the record player. The speaker horn was made a little louder by nicking another piece of corrugated iron fence from someone’s allotment down the Banking, cheers once again Sharps old chap (he’s definitely in this area!”) and of course, not forgetting Fireblade (“and so is he”), who kept watch. This acquisition exercise was followed by a group of local handy lads getting busy with hammers and kicking it into the required shape, then riveting it to the original horn. A good modern tradesman’s job they did too because, unless you look really closely, it is easy to spot the join. But, it works; in fact people can even hear it in the lounge next to the dance
floor.

  Top local DJ, ‘JR’, is once again the man with the patter and the crank handle. He is the guardian of possibly the only set of 78s Slade ever made … ‘especially’ for the HMV disco. They actually dress down out of their space gear and into a disguise made famous in Saturday Night Fever (especially Dave Hill) and sometimes join the crowd that is if they’re not flitting around this, or any other, infinite dimensional Universe, banging out still popular hits. Time is irrelevant with superb music.

  Well, they’re entitled to enjoy themselves a bit, even Martians like a pint and a dance. They did Millom a favour as well didn’t they? By bringing Brick and Togo back from certain vaporisation.

  John (JR) even has a dazzling light show and bubbles! Spherical ones without hair … no corny old jokes in this text M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader! The lighting rig consists of a candle either side of the stage, one either side of the disco and one centre stage. The bubble blowers are sat at ground level either side of the stage, their job sounds, and is, easy. It is usually done by two local footballers who, relative to the Rugby mob, are used to blowing into small round holes. As with the Rugby there are girls who like to play football too. These are the more feminine ones who like to wear things like make-up and pretty dresses and during a game, keep their kit nice and not get it mucky. They don’t have seasoned moustaches either, just a slight shadow, easily covered by a little dab here and there of Boots No 7 (how do I know about No 7 … read on).

  The lighting technicians again sat either side of the stage, one either side of the disco, plus one directly in front (JR has a big display). Each technician has a piece of A4 card with little windows cut into it, over these windows are stuck those nice transparent coloured sweet wrappers (from Fergie’s pick ‘n’ mix counter). They simply hold these in front of the candle flames … hey presto! … A psycho..delic light show. The guy in the middle of the disco unit is the strobe; he simply pendulums his piece of card very quickly across the flame. He generally has lots of ‘quick wrist’ techniques … this job is usually done by some sad git who can’t get fixed up … I was strobe for a while … years in fact. I was so frustrated that I could have frozen a humming bird’s wings mid sweep in a panic flight. This speed was possible for me because as I’ve already mentioned, I didn’t play Rugby so I had about as much chance of pulling as a plastic flower has of experiencing osmosis (okay … water travelling up the bloody stem with no muscles to speak of … okay?). But rapid wrist strobing is a useful talent and the qualification can take you all around the world. Yes you can get a job just about anywhere at all, such as testing the speed of people’s record decks using a small Mag torch! Balancing tyres using the same torch! Upsetting people with epilepsy … using the same torch with a more powerful bulb! Doing Morse Code for sailors who talk fast. Salt and pepper shaker in a restaurant; snowstorm shaker for lazy upper class people. Yes, you can get a proper job even if you don’t want one, a common illness, I would much prefer a life of leisure … please buy my writings … friend.

  What about Dry Ice? Smoke you mean? Yeees! Easy Peasy!

  Steel drum either side of the dance floor, few bits of driftwood and dry grass inside, light it, get it blazing and then throw in a sufficient amount of damp grass from up the park (over the fence, but don’t let the cops see you) … hey presto as much smoke as is needed and probably quite a lot more in fact that isn’t. A ‘wafter’ with a standard wafters plywood board 3’ x 3’ is employed at each barrel. It is usual practice to open the windows a little as it can get a tad stuffy and hard on the lungs, also if anyone is eating smoky bacon crisps they tend to lose their flavour which can mean quite a few bags being returned to the baffled maker with notes saying … “shouldn’t these plain crisps be in a red bag?” Be warned if you visit, eat salt and vinegar. At times the smoke production has been so good the Fire Brigade has turned up after one of the bright sparks in a moment of melancholic staring at the stars while lying on the Fire Station roof thinking of a 40% pay rise plus, in the meantime, gizza a job to break the boredom notices that the moon has gradually disappeared behind a cloud which is emanating from Millom Workies … again! Mind you they can only come along if Peg is available, which she will be … for double time of course.

  There you have it, JR’s ‘78s’ psycho..delic Slade HMV disco. A couple of pints of alcoholic slush and you will think you are in Peter Stringfellows. Millom hasn’t got any real professional entertainment? … I somehow don’t think that’s true, so there!

  M’lud: “Thank you Mr Lassut, Court will now end for today and commence tomorrow, the final day, at

  11 a.m.”.

  “All rise for M’lud”.

  ***

  FRIDAY 11.00 – THE FINAL SESSION

  “All rise for M’lud”.

  M’lud: “Ah, good morning Mr Lassut, good morning everyone. What a splendid week it’s been, learning about little old Millom town out there on a limb on the Cumbrian West coast. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much since we sorted out the camp management at Nuremburg. What’s on the menu today then?”

  Well M’lud, I’d like to carry on with, on this the final day, my painstakingly researched defence of the self-entertainment industry. I am now going to talk about what were the town’s cinemas.

  M’lud: “Really, I am a little bit of a Barry Norman myself you know, I like a good flick, I recall back in the seventies going to see ‘Slade in Flame’. Ohhhh them kind of a monkeys can’t swiiiing! And them birdies can’t siiiing … Oh sorry! Got a little carried away there … carry on, carry on”.

  The Court applauds M’lud’s vocal efforts; he stands and takes a bow. Well M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, I can’t deny the closing of the two cinemas in the town, I can though tell you a little about them and the reason as to why they were closed. One cinema was located above the Co-op, it was called the Ritz. My fondest and earliest memory there is going to see Bambi with ooooh, the bit where the adult deer told him … “Bambi, you’re never going to see your mother again”, very sad, no more nagging Bambi, no one to confiscate your mucky mags, no one to tell you which girls you can date, no one to show you up in front of your mates, no one to tell you you’re the black sheep of the family but … still very sad. The other was in the Palladium, the home of Millom amateurs, an extremely mad bunch whom I shall talk about next. My knowledge of the nuts and bolts of the cinema industry is very intimate because I worked for a short time (a couple of frames from the movie which is my life), on the actual projectors, with the brilliant Stan Twiname, the shaw kite lighting engineer. I have also seen projection rooms since, in places where electricity is taken for granted.

  The projectors in these places were large beasts, about 6’ x 4’ (an educated, faded memory guess ... wrong as I saw them thirty odd years later, a lot smaller, but powerful). These modern animals were powered by two carbon rods, set horizontally with a gap between the ends of about one quarter inch. The electrical current flowed across this gap and formed an arc light … very, very bright. Because this light is so bright, it is viewed through a deep green glass window, such as that of a welders mask. There have to be two projectors because, when one reel of film runs low, the second one has to be turned on and the two films ‘merged’. This is done by the projectionist watching the top right hand side of the screen for the O which lasts for about a second on the film. The first one is the warning, to turn on projector 2. The second O gives the signal to open the metal flap between light and film. Projection one is then turned off and the spool of film taken out and rewound onto another spool, before being replaced in the can. During the process where it is rewound onto another reel, via a rig set up on a bench, the projectionist’s helper puts their index finger and thumb of the left hand on either side of the moving film. This was to feel for rips around the sprockets. If a rip was detected, a frame was cut out and the film then cemented together again, using a mixture of one part sand to two parts … fascinating … BUT …


  What do you do in Millom when technology is not your mastermind subject? No carbons? No electric arc? No modern projector? … You make the best of what you already have, improvise, use your noggin, you Apollo 13 it. We of course had two projectors and a screen per cinema. It is amazing what you can do with two second hand wardrobes and four bed sheets stitched together. The films come already on reels so we needed only one empty for each projector and one for rewinding. A couple of highly sophisticated crank handles were geared up using modified fishing reels which fitted onto the mechanism through holes in the closed doors. Hey presto! You have yourself a cinema. The films were acquired by Freddie and Peg, who would take a quick flight across the estuary to Barrow in Furness, returning with John Wayne type saddle bags loaded with the cans containing the reels of that week’s films … borrowed from my beloved ABC cinema (now closed).