"Pleased to meet you Mr Ironside"

I sailed into Whittier on the second cruise ship ever to visit the port. It was the time of year where the sun never really sets and we had to make do with a couple of hours of dusk from around midnight to 1.30 am. The ship docked at around midnight and, while the passengers were mainly in their cabins sleeping off the prime rib and baked Alaska dinner, myself and Brad the Canadian sound operator ventured ashore. The dock consisted of a slab of crumbling concrete and absolutely nothing else. We walked through a gap in the sagging perimeter fence into Main Street which, in fact was the only street. The best way to describe the vista was 'post apocalyptic'. The town was dominated by what looked like a massive soviet era apartment block where, I was to learn later, almost all of the town's 214 population lived. A handful of low level buildings clad in timber and metal sheeting lined the streets, including the fire station which was  a burnt out shell.  The town's arsonist ...

John and Carl were my favourite production carpenters. John was usually accompanied by his spaniel Ben and when he wasn't using the skill-saw, he was either rolling, relighting or smoking a fag. The pair used to turn up at venues in John's battered old Land-rover full of tools. He was once pulled at customs travelling back from Europe. The sniffer dogs were all over the car and drug enforcement officers virtually tore the vehicle apart in their search. It was after an hour or so that John pointed out that ropes which he always carried at least one shank of in the back of the land-rover was made from hemp and given that this was the same plant family, may explain why the sniffer dogs were going beserk! We were on stage at the Blackpool Opera House during the fit-up of 'Oh What a Night!'. Set in New York in the 70's, the show had been commissioned by Apollo Leisure to play the summer season in Blackpools permier venue. 70s icon David Soul and Take That's Jason...

A Production Manager is a Jack of all trades but the master of none (or so people think). They can rarely build a flat, weld a joint or paint a cloth, however, they 'know a man who can'! And therein lies the skill. John Ashworth or 'Gypsy John' could build, borrow, fudge, steal or plain beat into submission with a lump hammer, practically anything you cold ever need to get a set built and a show on. John Ashworth is a prince amongst Production Carpenters A combination of skilled craftsman, artisan and northern cub comic, he was my lucky charm and get out of jail free card and I would not embark on a fit-up without him. There is more than a touch of bromace about this post but I have to paint this picture for you. John arrived at the venue in a 1970's Landrover stacked to the gunnels with tools, timber and enough re-apropirated gaffer tape to keep the Royal Ballet in lino tape for 10 years...and there was a dog called Ben. I make no bones about this, John...

I walked out onto the stage of the Alexandria Theatre Birmingham. It was dress rehearsal day and the band-call was due to start at 9.30. 'Snow White' was my first professional engagement as Lighting Designer. We had plotted the show and had spent a couple of days doing technical rehearsals so I was confident that the lighting looked good. To be honest, Terry Parson's set was so sumptuous, you only needed to turn on the working lights to make it sparkle. Several members of the band were setting up their gear in the pit. We had all woken up to the news that Roy Orbison had died in the early hours of the morning at the age of 52. Back on top thanks to his involvement in the Travelling Willburys it was a tragically young age to pass. The MD arrived at the rail clutching the band-parts "Did you hear about the Big O?". A few responses of "Yeah. What a shame" "He was one of a kind". I was walking upstage checking that none of my cross lights...

There are some places that inadvertently feature as a key location in your life. The Steak & Kebab Restaurant. The name just screams prawn cocktail, steak & chips and the obligatory Black Forest Gateaux, or, as a friend of mine always calls it, 'Dark Forest' which I always think gives the desert an air of RR Tolkien. In fact, this time-warp restaurant situated in a leafy square in the Manchester suburb of Didsbury, managed to serve up a great European menu alongside the  steaks. 1981 - I climb the narrow curving staircase leading from the main restaurant to an upstairs room. Joyously crammed with a long trestle table. The white linen looking cream in the candle-light. I join the party for after-dinner  drinks. Marion, my house mate of only a few weeks is 21 and this is her celebration party. The other guests include Marion's parents and sister and a good number of young friends. An open Methusala of champagne helped me overcome...

It's a cliché to say that life is wasted on the young but, looking back I wasted some opportunities and, of theses this is the one I regret the most. When I was 18 I was working the pantomime season that the Palace Theatre Manchester which featured a great cast and a particular comedy hero, Eric Sykes who played Alderman Fitzwarren in his inimitable surreal style. Although a great comedy writer, I always thought of him as a wonderful physical comedian in the Buster Keaton / Stan Laurel style. Supported by now sadly missed Roy Kinnear, Andrew Sachs who was at that time best known for his role as Manuel in Fawlty Towers playing  Sarah the ship's cook and The Great Soprendo, the show was packed with comedy set pieces. It also featured my favourite corny gag ever when the hero's are all captured in Morocco and herded into the throne-room of the Sultan. The characters  fall to the feet of a grandly dressed courtier and the dame bows proclaiming "Salam, Salam!". Th...

When I was about 8 or 9 my mum took me to Blackpool for the day. It was November. Freezing cold and horizontal rain that made your face sting. We went on the pretence of seeing one of my mums old friends who was working in the cash booth of the amusement arcade  on the North pier. As soon as we got off the train at Blackpool North the wind cut straight through the pair of us and so we jumped into a taxi and headed  to the promenade. We found Woolworths and my mum bought herself a crazy (even for the 70's) bottle green knitted hat and scarf. The scarf was about 6 foot long and wouldn't have looked out of place on Tom Baker. The prom was deserted like a film set waiting for the extras to be bussed in. The waves crashed over the railings and the strings of light bulbs between the lamp posts swung like they would be wrenched away any minute. The Grand Theatre had closed as a live venue some years previously. This Frank Matchum jewel of a venue was patiently waiting to be sa...