I'd say in recent years it should read 'Keep Your Feet On The Ground Geordie Hinnie'. This area does have a reputation of, in it's determination to stamp out pretentiousness and people getting ideas above their station, an in built dislike of people getting on and making waves in other things besides heavy engineering. I have it in built in me even though I'm not from a knacker family. Monty Python's sketch where Eric Idle has gone up North to Barnsley and comes back to visit his parents in London where the whole scenario is turned round from the kitchen sink style pretty much sums up the Northern English attitude pervading throughout the 20th century and it still is struggling to shake off. Mind you it doesn't help when commentators from down South like critics and stuff (anti NUFC football journalists come into this category as well) constantly belittle anyone from North Lincolnshire across to Cheshire and then up to the Scottish border for their efforts and their originality and ingenuity and only accept things if it comes from someone with a received English tone.

Does this mean I have a chip on my shoulder? Of course it fuckin does. That's the thing, if you admit you've got a chip on your shoulder and you're bitter, there's no other stick they can beat you with. Also they can then start thinking about why you've got a chip on your shoulder in the first place. They probably won't though because they'll not be listening. At least up North we saw through the Empire and the monarchy and the Union Jack thing a long time ago after we got screwed year on year with our industry going to the dogs and governments Conservative and (new) Labour constantly neglecting us, I think many in the soulless roundabout towns down South are still weighing it up and might just start to realise it's all a load of bollocks after we've left the Euro and the Scots have broken away and we'll all still be paying tuition fees, getting no state pensions and having to pay tax for getting out of bed whilst having a crap NHS, a crap transport system and a whole load of fuck all else in the fourth largest economy in the world where we return a Tory government every time.

Anyway on to the now rather than the future, I was actually in North East Lincolnshire last night in Cleethorpes. It was a nice gig to only 18 people. My old pal Roger Monkhouse was on. He compered. Suzy Ruffell opened and then I closed. There was nothing wrong with the meagre crowd at the Lit.com festival Cleethorpes. I know I hadn't heard of it either, funny that!! They were a nice bunch. I did a good steady job and it made the drive home despite Newcastle's yearly League cup exit before christmas coming through on my technology phone. One day Newcastle might win cups aye and one day places like Grimsby might have a fishing industry again instead of being palmed off with lit.com festivals. Mind you thanks for the money though and thanks for the gig. I'm off to a dinner tonight in Hetton. Ha ha fuck knows. I don't think there'll be a lit.com festival in Hetton anytime soon. It would feel like it was letting the side down. Speak tomorrow where I'll tell all.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY THE NAME RONNIE. RIDICULOUS.  

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Comments (1)

Super Smeg
written by Dad's Army , October 27, 2011

10 pounds of pease pudding wrapped up in someone’s Harrington jacket and still curl it past the keeper’s far post.
I like it - jackpot!