{"id":3204,"date":"2020-11-05T08:17:33","date_gmt":"2020-11-05T08:17:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/?p=3204"},"modified":"2020-11-05T08:17:35","modified_gmt":"2020-11-05T08:17:35","slug":"the-baum-report-by-michael-higgins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/2020\/11\/05\/the-baum-report-by-michael-higgins\/","title":{"rendered":"THE BAUM REPORT by Michael Higgins"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

THE BAUM  REPORT<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another folk \u00b4n poetry night<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sunday, February 12th<\/sup>, 2012,<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Baum Public House, Toad Lane, Rochdale, Lancashire.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

by Michaal Higgins<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

As this is a poetry report and the poet has to get to the Baum somehow there will be plenty of bus travel and beer as well as poetry in this report. The disgruntled should cease reading now. However, Susan dropped me off to see Mum in the morning via car. And she picked me up after visit and church at noon (no bus here). Mum OK but not really all there. She said a lot of rambling things. Not far removed from this report and the evening\u2019s proceedings I suppose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The remarkable thing about the service at Mum\u2019s church was a) the heating had conked out and it was FREEZING, so much so that a reference, and a petition, was made of it in the Intercessions.  b) a lady of Affro-Caribbean origin sang a song at the end to advertise an evening of \u2018Gospel Rock\u2019 next Saturday (Amazing Grace sung to a completely different tune). This was remarkable for two reasons. One this is a High Anglican church more in tune with sedate, or certainly uncharismatic, hymning. Two, the lady explained that she was brought up a Muslim but had seen the light and converted to Christianity. Now, not only is this a mortal sin at the best of times in  the Muslim world, with severe repercussions in some parts of the Caliphate, but also St Marks sits in the middle of Oldham\u2019s  Islamic neighbourhood, where one can sometimes hear the \u2018Immam\u2019s call to prayer\u2019 in the middle of the sermon. A brave lass. But our toes were freezing and we really did want to wave our arms and dance in the aisles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After completing my usual Sunday tasks I went through my repertoire to choose readings for the evening. I thought I would also sing the medieval lyric Blow Northern Wind from the original archaic language of the Harley Manuscript, as it is a love song and St Velentines\u2019s Day is imminent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ah, thought I, I will use my own translation that I used when I first set it to music in 1976. When I could not find the translation I was faced with retranslating it, which took some time as the poem employs not only the then very new Rhyming facility, but also employs the older Northern English alliteration on at least two stresses of each line. It is thought to be an old \u2018carole\u2019 or singing dance but as I have danced myself out over Christmas I shrugged that crazy idea off. I then took Bullseye or \u2018Bully\u2019 as Susan often calls him, for a ramble over the snowed- up golf course while I practiced my singing in the fresh air. Not a single golfer out and no \u2018thwack\u2019 of iron and whiz of ball past ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Regal Moon, Rochdale<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Then it was a rush for the bus and a repast at the Regal Moon in Rochdale (a Wetherspoon\u2019s establishment in the old Regal cinema). Arriving in Rochdale is unique as it is built on the widest bridge in the world. A quarter of a mile of the Esplanade covers the old highway bridge and a corresponding stretch of the River Roch (rhymes with brooch- whereas the town on its banks rhymes with \u2018crotch\u2019).\u00a0 The town was also deserted with many shops boarded up. Nonetheless the Regal Moon was warm and welcoming with the only hint of human company for miles. I had a pint of Bravura light ale with my meal. It was at this point I found my original translation in a page of my Harley Lyrics book. Oh well, go with the latest I sighed, not wishing to waste an afternoon\u2019s work. Then it was a depressing walk up a deserted Yorkshire Street past the boarded up McDonalds and surrounding empty or boarded up shops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
St Mary In The Baum<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

photo 3<\/strong> Afterwards it was the secret route through the Baum Passage, the ghostly profile of Mary In The Baum church, and the mysterious pub itself, ostensibly named after the old \u2018balm\u2019 or herb meadow, but seemingly confused with the German word for tree, judging by the pub\u2019s sign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The upstairs room was not quite full but we were earlier than usual and got a seat nearer the organisers. The room soon filled up.  I had a pint of Talisman Ale followed by York Brewery\u2019s Decade ale later on. Susan chided me on my pronouncing the latter with the accent on the first syllable (undoubtedly a holdover from my Toronto days) But, did the brewery really want customers to drink \u2018decayed\u2019 ale?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan had Hoegaarden  throughout (which is not hard to pronounce, though it is Dutch). Susan puts the average literary critic in the shade sometimes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here beginneth the Readings and Warlblings so look away now.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There were over thirty readers and \/ or singers, which caused the timetable to go awry and the memory of names, faces and titles to blur somewhat. In any case I found the person I was calling Phil is actually called Bill, and the stage name of one lady, which I thought was Christina de la Cruz is actually Carolina de la etc. Carramba!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Robin Parker<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Robin Parker, who co-hosts the events, began the evening with another Lancashire dialect poem from his Edenfield Scrolls. This was pretty good as he is from London and normally has the accent to match. <\/em>The Wedding At CAMRA paralleled St John\u2019s Gospel somewhat but here a wedding party ends up with no cask ale.\u00a0 Faced\u00a0 with an evening on keg, the local Campaign For Real Ale branch rushes in to save the day for the groom with an eight handpump miracle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later Robin performed a spoken duet on marriage tasks with a lady sat opposite me (Lorraine Charlesworth?), a litany of cross-purposes and disappointment. Val Chapman turned to matters romantic with A Valentine For Val(would she get one?) Paul Jelen brought things down to earth with an air to earth Freudian piece of all but sixty seconds: rather deep but arresting with lots of shadows and shade. He had the same young lady with him that I saw him with in Tandle Hill Woods last week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Carolina de la Cruz<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Carolina eschewed her Hispanic persona to read a poem about the therapeutic nature of cats in the sickroom. Robin muddied the waters by mischievously introducing her in German. Marian Tong followed with one about one\u2019s loving pet terriers chewing up favourite hats. Somewhat on a tangent Des Lexic followed with reprise of There\u2019s Life In The Old Dog Yet.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

His partner in the Nearly Dead Poets Society, Alvin Sawdust, read an essay by his 13 year old grandson, full of words such as \u2018moreover\u2019 and \u2018albeit\u2019. It more or less exhorted overpaid and unsportsmanlike football players to grow up, act like men, learn some skills and earn their keep or find employment elsewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Alvin read a poetic recounting of old girlfriends (which Norman Warwick said should not take long). After some heckles he asked the audience for a B…an O…..an O…..which he got and was cheerfully booed off. Many witty and humorous digs at either Norman or Robin came from Michael The Further (against the far wall) and Peter, in well crafted poems. Pam Ashton read one of her own and got a friend to read another but my mind had gone blank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Don Parry<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Don Parry and Bill sang\/played on guitar. Bill was introduced as the inevitable thing that comes in the post every month. His piece was about an old girlfriend but, unlike Alvin, he missed her. Don sang a new song\u00a0 Streets Of My Lifewhich he has entered into a song-writing competition. Then he sang an updated version of the Fields Of Athenray, <\/em>a song I was not familiar with. Des was enraged, saying he had spoiled a good traditional song.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Many new (to me) faces were there and known to Norman (co-host with Robin) who was familiar and deprecating in announcing them as reprobates and bad poets. They all took it in good sport.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Michael Higgins
poet and reviewer<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

photo 8 michael<\/strong> When it was my turn I was introduced as Michael The Nearer (because I was). I read my poem There\u2019s Nowt Like A Cup o\u2019 Yorkshire Tea, <\/em>explaining that as one of the few good things to come out of the shire it warms the heart, and body, of the meanest Tyke misanthrope. Norman said I should send it to the tea company. When I Sang Blow Northern Wind, Don picked up the key and managed to strum the basic melody. Everyone sang the chorus and it felt like the first time I tried out the song at the Ring O\u2019 Bells in Middleton all those years ago. Afterwards Don told me I sang it in the key of A, which was strange.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After me, Julia McKay baffled everyone with her Coatbridge accent. A poem on Scotch pancakes I think. She used the word \u2018Scotch\u2019 so perhaps it\u2019s politically correct again? Norman said it was a pity we would have to deport her after Alex Salmond\u2019s referendum. He coyly said she was from \u2018somewhere north of Carlisle\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Norman ended with a reminiscing poem accompanied by Don playing a blues background. Fortunately for me we had run way overtime due to the number of readers and we were too late for the penultimate bus home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I like to wind down and socialise after the readings, Susan likes to get in quick, listen hard, and get out as quickly as possible. Cheered up I ordered a pint of Oscar Wilde Ale which had miraculously appeared among the handpump labels. It was a rather good dark ale, brewed in Essex. Wilde\u2019s motto: \u2018Work is the curse of the drinking classes\u2019 was on the label.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan\u2019s patience soon ran out however and she left \u2018to make sure the bus didn\u2019t leave without her\u2019, urging me to drink up soon. Reluctantly I said a few goodbyes, with Des again bitterly lamenting Don\u2019s treatment of the Fields of Athenray<\/em>. Then it was the closing door, the echoing footsteps down the secret lanes and byways and the welcome sign of the 409 bus parked near the stop, the driver dismounted outside smoking a quick fag. And so, at the appointed hour, fuller than usual with about a dozen passengers in the below deck, heaven knows how many upstairs, we roared out of Rochdale over the world\u2019s widest bridge, like one of the speculative new trams in one young lady\u2019s poem, finally arriving in Rochdale just in time to take everyone out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

End of report.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

M Higgins Esq,  Ars Poetica (Hons)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A couple of days later Michael a few side-lines to his report in the following paragraph.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is a first in the growing fame of the Baum Report as it spreads worldwide. But it is brief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I forget to mention that the newly renovated Co-operative museum and shop will reopen in a few months. Just Poets, (right) <\/strong>mainly Robin and Norman, have been commissioned to write and perform on opening day. One of the Baum poetesses, Eileen Earnshaw, works for the Co-op and she read a poem about Rochdale\u2019s decline since the fall of King Cotton and the old fashioned days of \u2018co-operation.\u00b4 She also referred to the closing of McDonalds and wondered whether if and when the Metro does come\u00a0 to the town would anyone be on the arriving trams. And would they be full of Rochdalians getting out?.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Also one of Norman\u2019s \u2018bad poets\u2019 read a wonderful pastiche of Albert and the Lion, where Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom enjoy their last evening on holiday by imbibing at the local seaside pub called the Pig aAnd Manic Depressive. While they are out young Albert messes with their last condom, blows it up, gets it stuck round his head and turns blue.  After Mr Ramsbottom cuts the thing off the lad Mrs Ramsbottom says, \u2018Eeh I am<\/strong> vexed !\u2019. After all it was their last of the packet and they weren\u2019t planning on rearing any more like Albert. Why couldn\u2019t he have taken his \u2018orses \u2018ead \u2019andle  down to the zoo and poked the lions ears  with it like all good youngsters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was an ugly rumour spread that one of the Michaels had moved his seat just to bugger up the roll call but this calumny was soon exploded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

End of supplement<\/p>\n\n\n\n

MH\u00a0\u00a0 Esq.\u00a0 A.P (Hons) etc.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Wedding At CAMRA paralleled St John\u2019s Gospel somewhat but here a wedding party ends up with no cask ale. Faced with an evening on keg, the local Campaign For Real Ale branch rushes in to save the day for the groom with an eight handpump miracle.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3214,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,6,20],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3204","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aata","category-performing-arts","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3204","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3204"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3204\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3215,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3204\/revisions\/3215"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3214"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3204"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3204"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3204"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}