First refusal

Sadly, I must now announce that the exciting looking envelope turned out to be our first ever written refusal:

Dear Mr and Mrs Main

SPONSORSHIP PROPOSAL

Thank you for your recent proposal to sponsor your walk from York to Edinburgh. We have considered your proposal carefully but unfortunately our sponsorship programme for this year has been decidde with budgets and resources already allocated.

I am sorry that we can't help you on this occasion. Can I wish you every success with your holiday.

Now, this raises two issues. Firstly, we didn't want them to sponsor us! We don't want anyone to! We hate people doing sponsored things as much as, if not more than, the next person! You see, sponsorship involves saying to all your friends and colleagues "We're going on holiday. Please therefore give us some money, a large proportion of which we will use to pay for our holiday." An entirely different proposition from "We're holding an enormous contest. Would you be interested in donating a prize and/or entering it?"

And the other issue: surely if the resources etc had already been allocated, there would have been no need to consider our proposal carefully? Ha - try and escape from that one!

But there's no need to go further with this churlishness. It was genuinely nice of them at least to take the trouble to write back.

Oh well.

MacAulay and Co

Our cause has now been broadcast across Scotland.

At about 9:45 this morning I spent five minutes talking to Fred MacAulay and his co-presenter on BBC Radio Scotland. Sadly I never found out who the co-presenter was, but she seemed very nice.

It was an unusual kind of conversation, really - not so much because it was being broadcast live to literally hundreds of people, but more because they kept making bow and arrow sound effects at me. I suppose it's quite gratifying that somebody went to the effort of finding a sound effect especially for our segment. They seemed quite interested in the whole thing, and quite entertained, although the conversation did end up with Mr. MacAulay describing his throwing crisp packets full of water at York Ghost Trail guides. And that was without his even knowing that I am one of such guides.

All in all, quite fun, really. Sadly I never managed to mention the website, so I doubt if we'll get any more competition entrants from it - but it's nice to think that a few Radio Scotland listeners might be supporting us as we march steadfastly across the border.

2006: A Funk Odyssey

Now THAT was a brilliant, brilliant evening.

Last night, in case you haven't been keeping up, was the Supa-Fi event in York City Screen, featuring the excellent Funkate. Now, when we've mentioned them before, we've generally said "the excellent" because we'd seen them play for the odd few minutes and enjoyed it. But really, I can now say it with full vigour and emhasis, they really were excellent. The photo below, sent from my mobile, sadly doesn't really capture it. That event was the best £4 I've spent in a long time, and I highly recommend their next gig on November 18th.

But back to the cause. The reason our connection with Funkate emerged was that they offered us a signed T-shirt and CD to add to the prize pot, as well as the chance to come along and promote what we were doing. As more emails were exchanged, it emerged that the plan was that they'd give me the microphone at some point to explain it to the audience. But we never imagined it would happen the way it did.

It's pretty hard to describe, and probably even harder to imagine, but let me try: an 8-piece funk band, playing a funked-up version of Richard Strauss's Also Spracht Zarathustra (known variously as Thus Spake Zarathustra, the music from 2001: A Space Odyssey, or "that space one". You know the one - duuuuuurrrr duuuuuuurrrr duuuuuuurrrr...... DUR DUUUURRRR). Not only that, but I was given specific instructions to raise or lower their volume according to my whim, for extra dramatic effect, by raising or lowering my hands. The overall majesty of this somewhat took over my capacity for words, resulting in my speaking mostly in phrases like "People of York..." and "Fellow citizens, the time has come to lay down your anger..." and even "Join with us today...". Obviously, there were appropriate pauses for the most dramatic parts of the music. Sadly, I really can't remember exactly what was said, but it went on in that vein for quite some time and evoked a lot of spontaneous applause.

If you've never made a proclamation of peace, on a stage, accompanied by a funk band playing space music, I highly recommend it. I can't say it had been number one on my list of life ambitions, but in retrospect I do now see that my whole life had been building up to that moment.

Afterwards we met a bloke called Ash, who shook me enthusiastically by the hand, saying "That was brilliant! I was sitting there watching with my mate, and I said to him, 'Now this is entertainment.' Excellent - well done". When I asked him to sign the pledge, he asked what it was. "To be honest," he said, "I was talking to my mate on and off - I didn't really catch it all."

Without having a clue what I was talking about, he still thought it was brilliant entertainment. Whether that says something about our proclamation, about Funkate or about him, I've no idea. But probably the latter two.

Stardom (slightly)

OK, I have now seen the Press article (page three, no less!) and, well, I think you'll agree, it's a very attractive photograph. I've saved a copy of the online version - you can see it by clicking here. In the next day or two we'll replace it with a scan of the newspaper article - somehow, newsprint just looks funnier, don't you think?

Not a bad article, really, but it's a shame there was no mention of the contest or of the support from Funkate. We told them all about it, honest!

It is done.

I have just spent a rather ridiculous twenty minutes with a very nice photographer from the local paper. He showed me the photos he liked best and, well, let's just say there's a comedy fake arrow and a silly facial expression involved.

I don't know when our story's being published though. It's probably better that way.

Rather entertainingly, though, I went into the Yorkshire Museum on the way, to buy a small wooden sword. The salesperson asked if I wanted a carrier bag, and I replied "No thank you - I need to brandish it now."

That's the kind of conversation that I wish I had more of.

Good grief.

It's organised.

On Monday afternoon I shall be meeting a newspaper photographer, to be photographed. In a kilt.

A kilt which I still don't have.

There's no other adequate phrase, so I'll say it again: good grief.

I'd tell you exactly when and where it's happening, but I'd worry that you might come.

Can anyone lend me a kilt?

Hmm, a bit of a tricky problem here.

Shameless publicity seekers that we are, I've just been speaking to The Press, the local newspaper in York. They're interested in writing about our effort, which would of course be excellent. But, newspapers being what they are, and local newspapers being what they are, we need to produce an entertaining photograph to illustrate it. The upshot is that I've got until early next week to find a kilt that fits me. Preferably a very cheap one.

And then I need to wear it.

For a photograph.

In a newspaper.

Can anyone help?