The Council elections. Have your say on local government….and a nosey round a primary school

This week’s local elections invove a record number of candidates standing as independents. We provide some of them with an opportunity to get their message across:

DODDIE ESSLEMONT, Radical Independence Campaigner, asks for your vote

In stark contradistinction to the small-beer, cheap rent, vision of independence peddled by a certain well-fed First Minister ourt who I COULD mention but certainly won’t, I, ME, Doddie Esslemont of that ilk, offer you all the real deal.  Where others prpose a referendum on the breaking up of the Union, I actually promise to break up the Union, with a series of explosive charges along the line of Hadrian’s wall, down the Great Glen Fault, up the line of the A90, and along the garden wall that forms the boundary between myself and THAT BALLOON AT NUMBER 20.

No man is an island?  I beg to differ.

 

TANYA SOUTER, Lifestyle Guru, asks for your vote

I widnae say I’ve eyewiz fancied bein’ a politician – but I think I’ve got fit it takes tae mak a difference.  I’ve nae idea aboot yous, but I’m fed up seein’ wir female cooncillors lookin’ so frumpy!  Yer Jaeger suit might be knockin’ them deid in the planning committee, but yer nae going tae generate much interest in yer hustings if yer covering up yer main electoral assets. Da get me wrang, my grunny sweers by her twinset – but if she tried tae attract the young male vote dressed up like yon, she’d lose her deposit!  And the men are nae better. It’s a choice between baldie mannies in blazers and spotty loons in their first suit fae Slaters. Fit ivery elected chamber needs is a bittie Tanya Souter makeover mugic. So, if elected I’m gan tae bring some much needed glamour tae the cooncil, an’ I’ve got ma canvassin’ outfit back fae the dry cleaners.  I think thigh-high PVC boots, leopard-skin hot pants, an’ a spungly boob-tube will let everyone see fit Tanya his tae offer!

 

DAVINIA SMYTHE-BARRAT, Ordinary Mum, asks for your vote

I’m sure I’m not the only ordinary mum who has had enough of our ordinary issues being ignored by our local representatives.  Every single day I seethe with rage when dropping Fidel and Emmeline at school.  It’s a nightmare, and not at all safe. Who is responsible for these infernal zig-zag lines that stop me parking the X5 at the door?!  I’m forced to pull over on the only part of the road that doesnt have lines, the zebra crossing.

Obviously, as a lifelong supporter of the underprivileged both here and abroad (We sponsor a little boy in South Africa. It’s only a few pounds a month to us, but what a difference it makes to them. His name is Joost Van Der Beek. Not so little now, as it happens, he’s an engineering consultant.) I was all in favour, in principle, of last year’s public sector strike. It was clearly unjust that the government was forcing a unilateral variation of their terms and conditions of employment. But what they failed to consider is that Wednesday is our recycling day. Our utility room was packed for a fortnight with old copies of the Guardian, empty bottles of fair-trade Peruvian Malbec and Palestinian olive oil. I did consider putting it all into the stables, but Emms would have had an absolute meltdown!

Anyway, vote for Davinia – keeping it real.

 

JOCK ALEXANDER, Host of Mtv (Meikle Wartle Television) asks for your vote

If elected tae Aiberdeenshire Cooncil, I will dae my damnedest tae rid oor village of the scourge that is motorists, tourists and ither unwanted visitors fae the big city, or as we cry it, Inverurie. They jist get Ethel in the village shoppie a’ raivell’t fan they come in askin’ fer directions tae Auctherless. I propose diverting the funds currently being squandered on education, housing and enviromental services intae oor top-priority infrastructure project; movin’ Meikle Wartle 20 mile further inland. There’s a rare lookin’ blasted heath o’ a place at the fit o’ the Cairngorms fit wid be ideal

We shall also be seeking funding fae the private sector, by attracting the world’s top entripeneers. On that topic, I note Donald Trump has been complainin’ aboot bein’ lured tae Scotland under false pretences. I can confirm that the good folk o’ Meikle Wartle did consult wi him on the feasibility o’ bringing his Golf Course here, and yes, we did attempt tae lure him. Weel, it wiz Feel Moira hersel’ that did the actual lurin’, but I wiz ahin’ a dry-steen dyke, eggin’ her on. Unfotunately it didnae work, he showed nae interest in the raw meat she wis birlin’ aroon her heid. She’ll maybe hae better luck wi’ Richard Branson.

 

HELENA TORRY, The Union Terrace Gardens One, asks for your vote in her own, distinctive voice:

“   “

And finally, in the interests of political balance, here is a brief statement of the platform of each of the main parties standing in the election.

SNP  “Vote for us, it’s all the other lot’s fault”.

Labour  – “Vote for us, it’s been ages since it was our fault”

Liberal Democrat  – “You’re not going to vote for us, this time, are you? Can’t blame you really.”

Conservative  – “Vote for us, please? Someone? Anyone?”

The panda is an endangered species, but it’s not all black and white

“CAVA” KENNY CORDINER, the football pundit who kicks back!

What a weekend we have just had for sport. Grand National Day is always a favourite in the Cordiner household, as it’s the only time I can stick a bet on without the lovely Melody giving me the three degrees. Melody always has a punt too, and this year was no different. I sits for hours with the Racing Post, checking the form, the jockeys and the going and eventually picks Viking Blond. Melody looks at the paper and says, she says “I like’s Neptune Collognes cos he’s got a kind face”. I tells her “that’s no way to pick a winner!” but she never learns.

Speaking of picking a winner, I was caught between the devil and a hard place on Saturday when my old club, the Dons, graced the Hampden pitch in the Scottish Cup semi-final against another of my old stamping grounds, Hibs. I didn’t make it to the game myself. I had been waiting for the call from the BBC to be their neutral pundit, but it never come. No doubt my old clubs thought the same, because I never got no invite to go with neither of them neither.

Most readers will have fond memories of my extinguished Dons career, but I still sometimes get asked all the time why it was cut so short. Well, when Fergie arrived at Pittodrie, he was faced with a dressing room full of big personalities. Straight away I could tell he had the potential to do great things but he might feel intimidated by my presence and as long as I was at the club would remain something of a shrinking violin. So, to make sure that he went on to be one of the top gaffers in the history of the game, I put in a transfer request. Obviously this started a bidding war. Dumbarton, Clydebank and Hamilton Accies were all after my signature, but it was Hibs what I plumped for. I didn’t last long there though, because Melody got homesick. She never settled in Penicuik. It was a culture shock for her, I think. That and the smell. Hot Weetabix still makes her cowk. Still, I enjoyed my 3 appearances as substitute.

People ask if I have regrets but I’m glad I stood aside to let Fergie have his 35 years of 15 minutes of fame. I know he appreciates it too, because he once says in an interview about his Aberdeen days ‘The first thing I had to do was get shot of that idol Cordiner”. I seen Fergie at a dinner not long ago and thanked him for saying something so nice as that. ‘No problem, Kenny’ he says to me ’Even after all my years in football, you is still the idolest player I ever managed’.

What a gent.

 

PROFESSOR HECTOR SCHLENK, Senior Research Fellow at the Bogton Institute for Public Engagement with Science.

As a scientist, I’m always being asked questions such as ‘How did the universe begin?’ ‘Is time travel possible?’ and ‘Would you mind blowing into this bag, sir?’

But recently, a lot of people have been asking me about Pandas. ‘Well’, I say, ‘while I’m not an expert in that particular field, I understand that they are a form of musical-comedy theatrical production traditionally performed during the Christmas season’. And then we laugh. Albeit briefly.

The black and white bear native to South Western China has been in the news as we all waited with breath bated to see if the two currently shacked up at Edinburgh Zoo would get, as evolutionary biologists would say, ‘jiggy’. Alas, while clearly good friends, Yuang Guang and Tian Tian were unwilling to allow their relationship to get all complicated. Admirable restraint in a human; a game of extinction roulette for Pandas.

For while, with their big eyes and slovenly posture, they are extraordinarily anthropomorphic (a Giant Panda up close looks exactly like Boris Johnson in eye-liner) there is one enormous difference between them and us. We are the most successfully adapted life form on Earth; while they are what we scientists call, ‘rubbish’. Seriously, if it weren’t for our Herculean efforts they’d have gone the way of the Dodo yonks back, and while the erosion of their habitat is a big part of the problem, they’re not exactly doing anything to help matters.

The Darwinian model is often referred to as ‘survival of the fittest’. And so it probably helps to think of the Panda, in evolutionary terms, as Eric Pickles. This, after all, is a carnivorous bear that wilfully refuses to eat, not just meat, but anything at all apart from a particular strain of bamboo, which tastes terrible, but makes hard-wearing floor coverings. It can barely digest the stuff, and so has to spend 18 hours a day eating it to get up enough energy to sit still and look photogenic. It’s a wonder they ever have the energy for sex, and it’s nothing short of a miracle if that event coincides with the 36 hours a year when the female can conceive. That’s not a big window. In fact it’s not a window at all. It’s barely a cat flap.

In short, the future of the Panda is very much like St. Nicholas House. No matter how you approach it, it doesn’t look good.

Meet a conscientious objector. In fact, he’s practically a workaholic.

“A Bee in Your Bonnet” – One Man’s Struggle, a Blog by TIM BEE.

There are many things that anger me. Pot-holes, bus-fare hikes, wind-farms, the Haudigan roundabout, traffic jams, golf courses, bypasses and the new size of the P&J . “Some” people describe this all this upheaval as progress. Me? I call it “No-gress”.

Someone needs to take a stand against this – for want of a better word – “change”. Take the City Gardens Project.  I don’t have time to wait in traffic because the council has closed roads to develop “Gardens” which a significant minority of the population voted against (fact!). I wrote a letter to the P&J once a week, each week for 36 months, setting out my objections. And how many were published? One. That’s the kind of censorship I object to.

And the same goes for the Western Peripheral Route. We don’t want road-works in Stonehaven or Milltimber diverting rat-run drivers and clogging up our roads! I mean, for goodness sake, the city traffic is bad enough already – why would we want to build a “bypass” which will simply create more road-works and make it worse? Madness.

I also objected to Donald Trump’s golf course. It’s outrageous that such a development could be given the green light in an area of special scientific interest. That dune-grass doesn’t grow on trees you know! In fact the only thing I object to more than the Mennie development is the wind-farm that threatens the Mennie development. Or is it the Trump Organisation’s objection to the wind-farm that threatens the Mennie development? I forget, but whatever it is, it must be stopped!

Most recently I’ve been to Aberdeen City Council’s highly objectionable new offices at Marischal College to protest the proposed demolition of St Nicholas House. I’m as fundamentally opposed to that as I was to the building of the thing in the first place!

I’ve had it up to here (if you could see me now, I am currently sitting with my right hand exactly level with my widow’s peak. And I have a furious expression on my face) up to here, I say!

THEN…my so-called “employer” issued me with a final warning for writing letters, building placards and project managing a multi-million pound legal campaign on company time. Well, I object to that too. If they fire me then I will have my day in court and, appeal after appeal, I’ll take his pizza delivery franchise all the way to “Strasbourg” if I have to!

I’d actually enjoy an overseas trip, putting to one side my objections to the Eurozone. I haven’t been on holiday with the wife since she commenced divorce proceedings. She’s citing Unreasonable Behaviour. All I did was remortgage our house to pay for a team of Edinburgh lawyers, 700 cans of spray paint and a full size squirrel costume. How could she possibly object to that?

 

JOHNATHON M LEWIS, Local Headteacher, on “Muck up day” – when 4th year pupils who are leaving at the earliest lawful opportunity bid a fond farewell to their Alma Mater.

Some dissenting voices have declared “muck-up day” an embarrassment and a damning indictment on the state of modern education.  We at Garioch prefer to focus on the increasingly creative and ingenious ways our more practically-minded pupils choose to express themselves on the day they leave school.

Indeed, I said as much to the fire investigator while we combed the smouldering remains of the science block.  How many 15 year olds are capable of synthesising and detonating TNT?  It is heartening that these young people, while perhaps not the most academically gifted at the school, are taking away some tremendously useful practical skills.

Many local residents have been in touch to provide feed-back regarding the 20-foot mural depicting myself and Madame Dupont, the French assistante, painted on the side of the main building. It’s very exciting when artwork by one of our pupils provokes such a strong reaction.  Disappointingly, some of the feed-back has been negative. But putting to one side the subject matter; and the fact that, facing the main road as it does, it has caused two or three car accidents, it’s very encouraging that there have been no complaints about the quality of the work. Anatomically, the detail is startling (two thumbs up to the Biology department!) and I detect something of a cubist influence  – so ‘bravo’to the Art teachers! This is the kind of flair that we seek to instil in our youngsters at Garioch.  There is no tedious cling-filming of toilet seats at this school.

I know that Mr Kinnear, head of History, was particularly touched by the salting and burning of the school playing field.  A clear homage to the sacking of Carthage. Mr Grant, the groundsman, was equally moved, if his tears and subsequent letter of resignation were anything to go by. And Ms Sinclair will no doubt make positive use of the message permanently carved into the chalkboard in her English class – as both the spelling and grammar of “CLASS O 2012 WIZ ERE YE BAMS!” neatly exemplify some common mistakes.  Not that this should be taken as any kind of criticism of the pupils; there is no spell-check feature on a stanley-knife!

The panda is an endangered species, but it’s not all black and white

 

“CAVA” KENNY CORDINER, the football pundit who kicks back!

What a weekend we have just had for sport. Grand National Day is always a favourite in the Cordiner household, as it’s the only time I can stick a bet on without the lovely Melody giving me the three degrees. Melody always has a punt too, and this year was no different. I sits for hours with the Racing Post, checking the form, the jockeys and the going and eventually picks Viking Blond. Melody looks at the paper and says, she says “I like’s Neptune Collognes cos he’s got a kind face”. I tells her “that’s no way to pick a winner!” but she never learns.

Speaking of picking a winner, I was caught between the devil and a hard place on Saturday when my old club, the Dons, graced the Hampden pitch in the Scottish Cup semi-final against another of my old stamping grounds, Hibs. I didn’t make it to the game myself. I had been waiting for the call from the BBC to be their neutral pundit, but it never come. No doubt my old clubs thought the same, because I never got no invite to go with neither of them neither.

Most readers will have fond memories of my extinguished Dons career, but I still sometimes get asked all the time why it was cut so short. Well, when Fergie arrived at Pittodrie, he was faced with a dressing room full of big personalities. Straight away I could tell he had the potential to do great things but he might feel intimidated by my presence and as long as I was at the club would remain something of a shrinking violin. So, to make sure that he went on to be one of the top gaffers in the history of the game, I put in a transfer request. Obviously this started a bidding war. Dumbarton, Clydebank and Hamilton Accies were all after my signature, but it was Hibs what I plumped for. I didn’t last long there though, because Melody got homesick. She never settled in Penicuik. It was a culture shock for her, I think. That and the smell. Hot Weetabix still makes her cowk. Still, I enjoyed my 3 appearances as substitute.

People ask if I have regrets but I’m glad I stood aside to let Fergie have his 35 years of 15 minutes of fame. I know he appreciates it too, because he once says in an interview about his Aberdeen days ‘The first thing I had to do was get shot of that idol Cordiner”. I seen Fergie at a dinner not long ago and thanked him for saying something so nice as that. ‘No problem, Kenny’ he says to me ’Even after all my years in football, you is still the idolest player I ever managed’.

What a gent.

 

PROFESSOR HECTOR SCHLENK, Senior Research Fellow at the Bogton Institute for Public Engagement with Science.

As a scientist, I’m always being asked questions such as ‘How did the universe begin?’ ‘Is time travel possible?’ and ‘Would you mind blowing into this bag, sir?’

But recently, a lot of people have been asking me about Pandas. ‘Well’, I say, ‘while I’m not an expert in that particular field, I understand that they are a form of musical-comedy theatrical production traditionally performed during the Christmas season’. And then we laugh. Albeit briefly.

The black and white bear native to South Western China has been in the news as we all waited with breath bated to see if the two currently shacked up at Edinburgh Zoo would get, as evolutionary biologists would say, ‘jiggy’. Alas, while clearly good friends, Yuang Guang and Tian Tian were unwilling to allow their relationship to get all complicated. Admirable restraint in a human; a game of extinction roulette for Pandas.

For while, with their big eyes and slovenly posture, they are extraordinarily anthropomorphic (a Giant Panda up close looks exactly like Boris Johnson in eye-liner) there is one enormous difference between them and us. We are the most successfully adapted life form on Earth; while they are what we scientists call, ‘rubbish’. Seriously, if it weren’t for our Herculean efforts they’d have gone the way of the Dodo yonks back, and while the erosion of their habitat is a big part of the problem, they’re not exactly doing anything to help matters.

The Darwinian model is often referred to as ‘survival of the fittest’. And so it probably helps to think of the Panda, in evolutionary terms, as Eric Pickles. This, after all, is a carnivorous bear that wilfully refuses to eat, not just meat, but anything at all apart from a particular strain of bamboo, which tastes terrible, but makes hard-wearing floor coverings. It can barely digest the stuff, and so has to spend 18 hours a day eating it to get up enough energy to sit still and look photogenic. It’s a wonder they ever have the energy for sex, and it’s nothing short of a miracle if that event coincides with the 36 hours a year when the female can conceive. That’s not a big window. In fact it’s not a window at all. It’s barely a cat flap.

In short, the future of the Panda is very much like St. Nicholas House. No matter how you approach it, it doesn’t look good.

MI5 want to read everyone’s emails. What a dull episode of ‘Spooks’ that’ll be.

STRUAN METCALFE, MSP

In a bid to tackle crime and terrorism, the state will soon be able to monitor the calls, emails, texts and website visits of everyone in the UK.  Well, I say ‘able’; I suppose I should say ‘allowed’.  I’m not convinced that Francis Maude could watch a clip of a kitten falling off a piano without significant IT support.

Now, I will always back Super Dave to the hilt on pretty much anything, regardless of what I really think. But, crikey, as a keen user of the New Media I’m pretty bally ticked that some MI5 spook is going to read all the utterly inappropriate texts I send to my researcher at half 2 in the morning.

The interception of personal communication is horrid. I should know. In my second year at Gordonstoun I sent a letter to Wet-Bed Walkinshaw containing my objective views on his physique – in particular the beautiful architecture of his perfectly formed calf muscles as he ran cross-country in the pouring rain, the moisture falling from the sky merging with the salty perspiration dripping from his adolescent brow. That note found its way into the hands of the 6^th formers and from then on I was known as Pansy Metcalfe. And that hurt.

There’s been talk about the erosion of civil liberties, 1984 and Big Brother. Quite frankly, I have no idea what this has to do with George Galloway pretending to be a cat, but as a society we need to ask ourselves some tough questions. Tough questions like “Will deleting my Internet browser history still stop people seeing which gentleman’s websites I have been on?”

VIEW FROM THE MIDDEN – Rural affairs with MTV (Meikle Wartle Television) presenter, JOCK ALEXANDER

Weel, michty, fit a wik it’s been!  Nae sooner hid we seen the back of that unseasonal heatwave then we wis plunged intae Arctic conditions; heavy snowfall, sub zero temperatures and jam roly-poly with ice cream in the middle for pudding.

Nae doot readers fae the mair metropolitan settlements such as Tarland and Edzell prefer it fan it’s 21 degrees. They enjoy wearing sandals wi’ their biler-suits, and listnin’ tae Mungo Jerry whilst cruising aroon in a convertible Massie Ferguson, but it’s nae fine here in Meikle Wartle. A wik o’ fine weather jist gets the midden a’ heated up, and there’s nithin pits ye alff yer breakfast like the smell o’ warm sharn waftin through yer windae.

Happily though, wir freakishly balmy March didnae last, and we’ve noo hid ten feet o snaw blaw in an’ entirely cover the village, and michty it’s niver looked better.  It looks jist exactly like the Christmas card ye get fae the EU in the envelope wi’ yer Single Farm Payment.

This is nithin, of course.  WInter o’ 74, the village hid 50 fit o’ snaw overnight. Noo that wiz a bit on the frosty side. I can mind Feel Moira marchin oot intae the drifts tae find a lost Cheviot wearing nithin but a look of grim determination. She’d come straight oot of her monthly bath, ye see. Took her siven hoors, but back she came, in triumph, wi’ that calf on her shooders, safe and sound, jist in time for tea. Some delicious veal escalopes, if I mind right.  Fit a woman!

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY – the Minister of Holburn North North East, THE REVEREND EDMOND EVEREND reflects on Easter.

Easter is my favourite time of the year, but I fear, the one where my own vision departs most dramatically from that of the general populous.  Where I perceive a profound tale of human experience: sacrifice, death, hopelessness, rebirth and joy – who needs “The Twilight Saga” when you have the Gospel of John!? – others see an opportunity to eat their own bodyweight in confectionary.

Looking for new ways to drive home the Easter message, I sought to pep up my sermon with what I understand is known as a “visual aid”.  And so, as I addressed my congregation on the topic of the crucifixion, as Christ’s fateful journey reached its denouement, I produced a hammer which I had secreted about my cassock, and nailed my hand to the pulpit.

I had hoped that this dramatic gesture would emphasise the real and visceral nature of Christ’s suffering.  I must confess, however, that the results were not all that I had wished for.  Betty McPhee, who had been bringing in the offering, found the spectacle more visceral than she could handle, and fainted onto a pile of hymnaries.  I instinctively leapt to her aid, forgetting that I was still nailed to the pulpit and ripping the nail through an artery, causing a great gout of blood to arc out, spattering wall, ceiling and parishioner alike.

But, from out of the darkness, new life emerges.  We had long wondered if the time had come to redecorate the sanctuary; the enforced closure of the church, on public health grounds, will give the project fresh impetus.  The four pints of blood which I received upon my admission to A&E constituted a gift more consonant with the true Easter message than the gaudiest chocolate egg.  And, as the nurse providing my bed-bath reached down and washed my feet, I was reminded of the service that Christ, in his humility, had provided to his disciples on Maunday Thursday.

Truly, He moves in mysterious ways.

Lemon Tree Studio – 2004

‘Never short of gags or imagination.’

— P&J

‘Bristles with imagination and originality.. another winner from the Flying Pigs.’

— Evening Express

Pausing briefly to get married (Greg & Susan), move house (John), move to Glasgow (Steve), and, somewhat inconveniently, emigrate to Australia (Oli & Chrissy), the time was right for Flying Pig to return with an all new production.

Replacing Oli was no mean task, but as luck would have it, Moray Barber, experienced performer and long time friend of the Pigs, had returned from his years of exile in deepest darkest Edinburgh, and was quickly recruited.

Returning to the Lemon Tree for what was to be the last time, we made, for the first time, full use of video projection to stage Robbie Shepherd’s attempt to better David Blaine’s feats of endurance, relate the untold story of Jimi Shand’s psychedelic adventures in 60s London, and to allow Oli to continue to play Ronnie in spite of being on the far side of the world. We also saw the return of the Liar after a two year break and the creation of our political heavyweights, the Licensing Board.

Cast
John Hardie
Moray Barber
Craig Pike
Susan Gordon
Steve Rance
Elaine Clark
Greg Gordon
With
Andrew Brebner

Script
Greg Gordon
Andrew Brebner
Lyrics
John Hardie
Andrew Brebner

Directed by
John Hardie
Musical Arrangements
Steve Rance
Craig Pike

Sponsors
Ledingham Chalmers
CMS Cameron MCKenna

Previous show: The Madness Of Kingswells – 2002

Next Show: Best Back – 2004

HMT at Hilton –  2004

‘The Best of Flying Pigs does everything it says on the packet. If you can beg, borrow or steal a ticket, do so. Your sense of humour depends on it.’

— Evening Express

An invitation to perform at HMT’s temporary venue at Hilton led to Best Back, our second outing of 2004 and our second ‘Best Of’ production.

Opening announcement: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is Flying Pig Productions. Welcome to ‘Best Back’, oor ‘best of’ compilation. So if ye think this is bad, you should’ve seen the dirt we left oot!”

Initial concerns that our fanbase might balk at being asked to again fork out their hard-earned cash to see material which they now seemed to know better than us proved to be ill founded; enough of you wanted the proverbial another chance to see The Mither! Wedding saga, The Buckie Drifters, Ghengis Khanna and The Liar; Mother Theresa to enable us to sell out our first great muckle venue. Even a couple if feet of snow couldn’t deter the diehards, and as we gathered at Greg and Susan’s for the traditional wine and stovies, we were all agreed that the concussion suffered by one of our number inadvertently head-butting an opening car boot while loading props out of the theatre was a small price to pay for another successful show.

Cast
John Hardie
Moray Barber
Craig Pike
Susan Gordon
Steve Rance
Elaine Clark
Greg Gordon
With
Andrew Brebner

Script
Greg Gordon
Andrew Brebner
Lyrics
John Hardie
Andrew Brebner

Directed by
John Hardie
Musical Arrangements
Steve Rance
Craig Pike

What the Papers Said
Aberdeen Evening Express

In just six years, the Flying Pig has travelled from its launch pad at Aberdeen’s Lemon Tree to the stage of Her Majesty’s Theatre, earning itself a good few air miles – and a theatre full of fans – in the process. This latest show reminds us of their journey so far, presenting the eight talented comedy actors who started out in Student Show and now find themselves perfectly at home on the stage of the city’s largest theatre, where it looks as though they might be tempted to stay. As a “Best Of” show, theatregoers will have seen some of the material before, but predictable it certainly is not, as you reacquaint yourself with such classics as Mither and Archie and Davie, and laugh all over again at the hilarious lines you certainly won’t remember from last time. Characters retired a few shows back make a welcome return – The Liar, Oor Faither, Ghengis Khanna and the boys from The Cruel Sea provide some side-splitting moments, while rewritten lyrics for some of the best-known pop songs vary the pace and become classics in themselves. The Best of Flying Pig does everything it says on the packet. If you can beg, borrow or steal a ticket, do so. Your sense of humour depends on it.

Previous show: The Hunchback of Walker Dam – 2004

Next Show: The Seagull Has Landed – 2005

His Majesty’s Theatre – 2005

‘Flying Pig reached the pinnacle of their success with their awesome debut on the newly refurbished stage of His Majesty’s Theatre.’

—Evening Express, 29 December 2005

After managing to lure a good number of hardy souls out to darkest Hilton in the bleak mid-winter, a long-standing ambition was realised when, in an unguarded moment, those in charge of HMT asked if we’d like to come and play in the Big Theatre. Being the sharp, professional operation we are, we checked the contract, hummed, hawed and kept ’em in suspense for a number of tenths of a second before saying yes in a thrilled, but slightly feart, collective voice.

Selma and Eddie added a fresh twist to the Mither and Faither saga; Minker TV Gold made it’s debut, Hilton John’s candid confession was a musical highlight and Aberdeen’s bid for the 2016 Olympics provided both a setting for a host of old favourites and new characters and a suitably grand (and daft) finale.

They asked us back you know. Some folk never learn.

Cast
John Hardie
Moray Barber
Craig Pike
Susan Gordon
Steve Rance
Elaine Johnston
Greg Gordon

Script
Greg Gordon
Lyrics
John Hardie
Moray Barber

Directed by
John Hardie
Musical Arrangements
Steve Rance

Sponsors
Sparrows Offshore
Town & County
CMS Cameron MCKenna

What the Papers Said

Aberdeen Evening Express 12/11/05

Flying Pigs Root Out Crackling Comedy.

Anyone following the progress of Flying Pig Productions knows they reached the pinnacle of their success this weekend with two sell-out shows at HMT. The local comedy group’s popularity has exploded since its first show at The Lemon Tree in 1998, later moving to the Arts Centre and finally alighting at HMT at Hilton last year. Now the company makes an awesome debut on the newly refurbished stage of His Majesty’s Theatre with The Seagull Has Landed. The beauty of the Flying Pigs is its ability to fit any venue, and please any audience. Last night, with its familiar pink sets and costumes, and carefully blended comedy and music, it finds the perfect home on Aberdeen’s largest stage. Greg Gordon’s side-splitting scripts reacquaint audiences with old favourites Mither and Faither, Archie and Davie and The Liar, while introducing Scotland The What?-style characters Selma and Eddie, the jobsworth Doctor’s Receptionist and Aberdeen City Council’s Licensing Board. With Aberdonian Pavement Dances taught by a line-up of couthy experts, and music fro The Buckie Drifters, Glen Camphill and Hilton John, local comedy has found a home in a new generation. Pigs might fly – only time will tell us how far.

Previous show: Best Back – 2004

Next show: Desperate Fishwives – 2007

2007 – His Majesty’s Theatre

‘Fabulously funny, outstanding’

– Press and Journal

‘If you have a ticket – hold on to it tightly… you’ll love every hilarious minute.’

– Evening Express

‘A week at HMT’ – the fantastical ambition first voiced in the Lemon Tree bar after our first show became a reality in 2007 with ‘Desperate Fishwives’. A small preview tour (or ‘Tourette’) took the nascent production to the good people of Aboyne and Laurencekirk, raising funds for local good causes and providing the cast with a couple of slap-up home-baked post-show feeds. It was all new stuff, bringing Minker TV Gold and the Planning Officer to the stage for the first time. Not to forget Mither and Faither’s coach trip to Paris and our requiem for Grampian TV.

Gallery

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A live recording of ‘Desperate Fishwives” is available on CD from the Flying Pig Shoppie.

Cast
John Hardie
Moray Barber
Craig Pike
Susan Gordon
Steve Rance
Elaine Clark
Greg Gordon

Script
Greg Gordon

Lyrics
John Hardie   Moray Barber

Directed by
John Hardie

Musical Arrangements
Steve Rance

Sponsors
Sparrows Offshore
Ledingham Chalmers
KR Steel Services Ltd
Esslemonts
Gavin Bain and Co
The Marcliffe Hotel
CMS Cameron MCKenna

What the Papers Said
Press and Journal 8/3/07

DESPERATE FISHWIVES PROVES A BRILLIANT CATCH

There was a time when the comedians calling themselves the Flying Pigs performed in the smaller, less grandiose venues of Aberdeen. In the early days of the performers’ career they found time for humble critics and would of occasion even write my review for me and print it in the programme. Now of course the Flying Pigs are in a different orbit and packing out HM Theatre to the ceiling every night until Saturday this week and I have to write my own review of their fabulously funny, outstanding show Desperate Fishwives. Still it’s the least I can do in exchange for a fantastic laugh. I’ve said this before but it seems even truer now – the Pigs have grown into the realms of HMT, they are the inheritors of ‘Scotland the What?’, in more ways than one since John Hardie, one of the principal Pigs, is Buff Hardie’s son. Now I’ve made the comparison you’ll know what the Flying Pigs are all about. Basically about helping North-east folk laugh at themselves. In a sense last night’s audience were onstage in the many, colourful, daft and couthy characters written mainly by Greg Gordon. Poor Torry gets a ribbing, as usual, but then so does Milltimber. Even the programme is a hoot. The show runs until Saturday and should not be missed.

Evening Express 8/3/07

FLYING PIGS KEEP THE LAUGHS COMING

Laughs were flying last night, as the Pigs played their first night at His Majesty’s Theatre to a sell-out crowd.This, the group’s 10th show, sees them back at HMT for the second time in as many years, playing to full houses for five nights. Quite a jump from their humble beginnings, when in 1998, their first show Last Tango in Powis played two nights at the Lemon Tree. Now, they’re exactly where they were headed, with a show which has snowballed in popularity but remains the same blend of irreverent songs, skits and hilarious characters guaranteed to have you in stitches. Often likened to Scotland The What? for a new generation, the group certainly comes from the same comedy stable. John Hardie (yes, Buff’s son) and Craig Pike share some of the show’s funniest moments on a pink park bench, with the musings of instantly familiar old boys Archie and Davie.Meanwhile Susan Gordon and Craig Pike take their well-loved characters Mither and Faither on a coach to Paris – accompanied by a troublesome prostrate and a pair of unwanted friends. With Greg Gordon’s Andy, the jobsworth jannie, sharing the laughs with Craig Pike at the council planning department lamenting the building of the Kepplestone flats, Desperate Fishwives goes where most of us fear to tread – and emerges laughing. If you have a ticket – hold on to it tightly. As ever, you’ll love every hilarious minute.

Previous show: The Seagull Has Landed – 2005

Next show: How To Look Good Glaikit – 2009

2009 – His Majesty’s Theatre

‘Hilarious’

– Evening Express

‘An absolute must for anyone in need of a good laugh’

– Press & Journal

After the success of Desperate Fishwives in His Majesty’s Theatre, Aberdeen, in 2007, we returned to HMT with a new show in June 2009, for a slightly mind-boggling two week run.

Punter – “I’m coming to see your show!”

Us –          “Great! Can you bring 10,000 friends?”

As if that challenge wasn’t enough, our directors, John and Gayle, (demonstrating that in comedy, timing is everything) chose opening night to expect the arrival of their first born. Happily, their daughter showed the team great consideration when she turned up just a little bit early, (not something that could ever be said about her father) and while her mum took notes, slept soundly through the dress rehearsal. Everyone’s a critic.

How to Look Good Glaikit previewed at Montrose Townhall, before bedding in at HMT from 18th until 27th June.

Highlights included the first stage appearance by the Ruaridh Duguid, telephoning the Caledonia Bank, childcare advice from Minker TV Gold and Moray’s moving tribute to the sadly defunct Bon Accord Baths.

A live recording of ‘How To Look Good Glaikit” is available on CD from the Flying Pig Shoppie.

Gallery

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Photographs by Graham Read of PhotoGFX Media.

Cast
John Hardie
Moray Barber
Craig Pike
Susan Gordon
Steve Rance
Elaine Clark
Greg Gordon
And
Scott Christie as Mr Wyzorski

Script
Greg Gordon
Simon Fogiel
Lyrics
John Hardie
Moray Barber

Directed by
John Hardie
Musical Arrangements
Steve Rance

Sponsors
Sparrows Offshore

Ledingham Chalmers
KR Steel Ltd
Esslemonts
Gavin Bain and Co
The Marcliffe Hotel
CMS Cameron MCKenna

What the Papers Said

Evening Express 19/6/04

Aberdeen comedy group The Flying Pigs make a habit of ruffling feathers among the good and righteous of our fair city. How to Look Good Glaikit flies in the face of the local institutions we hold dear – Aberdeen City Council, Seaton Bowling Club, Robbie Shepherd and even the Evening Express. All come in for a bit of stick from the irreverent laughter-makers who started out in the student show and who have successfully followed in the footsteps of Scotland The What? Writer Greg Gordon pulls out the stops introducing some hilarious and colourful new characters along with old favourites. With some great lines for Archie and Davie, the liar, and Mither and Faither, and some brilliant new songs for the Buckie Drifters and Hlton John, the show is packed with belly laughs that left this first night audience in stitches.

The HMT website also allows punters to post their own reviews and that’s where, if you click on the ‘reviews’ tab you’ll see we got this notice.

Previous show: Desperate Fishwives – 2007

Next show: The Silence of the Bams – 2011