Friday 16 August 2013 Then went to library. Well, Google have taken away the ‘we have detected unusual activity on your account’ suspension. I suspect that the ‘unusual’ is just that I sign in to the service on lots of different computers. So the email works again, not that anyone has sent me any. No photos from the photographer and no video from the group music video. Also Twitter has unbanned me, with the same lack of information on unbanning me as they had on banning me. So something routine that I did got me banned and now I am not banned and never to know what it was. (Kafka anyone?) Not that tweeting is of any use when no one reads them. Twitter want me to follow various famous, or perhaps not, persons. I click on ‘follow’ and then their inane trivial banal drivel arrives on my screen. Reading a couple of those tweets is enough for me to ‘unfollow’ them which means that they dissapear from my inbox. I tweated and included this text: #beachdancer
That is a way of creating or refering to a specific topic, and I was amused to see that I am the only person to ever refer to ‘beachdancer’ in a tweet. So, “Abuelo S B Chdancer” has a youtube channel, a google+ page, twitter account and a facebook page. I was mildy pleased that they all work again. Don’t ask me why. But, still, no one knows about any of them and no one watches my music videos, but every so often someone watches my dance on the prom in Javea.(173 views) Feeling a tad stressed I headed for the beach with the intention, especially of forgetting that I am going to have blood tests next friday. Danced a bit lacklustre. A well rounded blonde woman of maybe 40 (perhaps less) walked from the beach huts towards me. I pushed my headphones back and said hello. “I have a beach hut and have watched you dancing past for the last week, and now I have got up the courage to come and speak to you.”
“Oh, yes.”
“We enjoy watching you.”
“Oh, good, that’s nice.”
She asks me something and I explain how I enjoy dancing, good exercise and so on. She asks me where I am from. “From?” I respond, “in what sense?”
“You’re not english,” she tells me.
“Yes, I’m english I live here.”
“Oh, well you have an accent of someone who has travelled. Do you do this on other beaches around the world?”
A boy arrives and she turns to him, “We like watching him dance, don’t we?”
He sort of acknowledges this, but I was not entirely convinced. I think we chatted a little longer and then she took her leave and as I turned away a man was hovering nearby. He seemed a little reluctant to speak, but after I said hello he began…
“I have a beach hut nearby and have admired your dancing over the last few weeks. My name is Chris Mower…” Now this is unusual. It isn’t normal that someone introduces himself by name so my brain has already deduced that this is going to be some kind of business proposal, or at least that jumped into my conscious. So what is it to be? “I don’t know if you have heard of Hot Radio, its a local radio station and I present a program on Sundays. Would you be willing to be interviewed on my programme?” I felt a touch nervous at this. Now of course I have not heard of ‘Hot radio’. I don’t know if it actually exists. I took a few moments to wonder about this, but I had been assuming (and Noel also assumed, and Ann expected to read about me in the local newspaper) so it wasn’t a huge surprise. He said something about my being a local feature or having become an item locally or something. I said okay. “Good. We could do it now if you’re interested. It would be better away from the sea where it is quieter, if that’s okay.” As we walked towards the beach huts he asked me why I did this and started to be pleased by my responses, but cut me off with, “let’s wait till I can record this.” In this pre-interview I told him that I used to be a business consultant and he tells me that his day job is as a financial advisor. “The things we do,”I chuckle. He got out his iphone, explained that it is great for interviews, that there is no need for messing about with microphones and that the file can be edited and drag and dropped into the program. He explained that he would have a pre-amble and then would go into the interview. I suggested, “I was watching this nutter on the beach..” I explained that I didn’t want to use my real identity, that If I were to become known for something that I wasn’t sure that I wanted it to be this. So he refers to me as ‘Beachdancer’. His first question is something like, “So beachdancer tell us about what you do,” and I have very little idea what I said. I hope that I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself or say anything that will haunt me. He asked 2 more questions and I think that I spoke calmly and warmly about the joys of dancing. At the end he said, “That was great, I will edit it a bit and probably broadcast it Sunday week between 9 and 1 (10 and 1?)” [That would be August 25, I think] Now, I have a feeling that this ‘Hot Radio’ is an internet entity rather than an FM ‘real’ radio station. Do I want to be interviewed on the radio? Do I have a reason to do this or to avoid doing this? Do I want to find that when I dance on the beach people shout out, “Oy! Beachdancer, ‘owz it goin’?” Back at the chine I was doing my encore and one or two youngsters were jumping around sort of imitating or perhaps the word is ‘aping me’. As I rested against the railings one of these teenage girls asked if it would be okay for a few of them to come and dance with me. I said sure. She had been copying me. She seemed to stammer and had lots of acne and spoke in this modern almost ghetto style. She and two or three boys joined me. It was tough because I try to simplify and slow things down and then I get bored and I think they do too, so then I speed up and they get completely lost. After a while they drifted away. It being friday was wondering what the time was. My aim was to get back, have dinner and then head to the Pavilion to catch part of the open air dance lesson (if it was happening). Got back to flat at about 7 so couldn’t leave until nearly 8 after a rushed and badly cooked dinner. Arrived at very early the end of the class which was African, but not run by Natasha, who it turns out is off due to child labour (isn’t child labour outlawed?). It looked a touch boring and I was reluctant, but slowly got sucked in and then spat out. I like the idea of learning and REMEMBERING a few steps, but classes are a chore. At the end they encouraged individuals to dance so I did, was applauded (but then everyone gets applauded, it means nothing.) I was of course entirely drained and lacking in energy after the beach and the walk. I have no idea how I looked, but I felt lousy. As I danced out of the ring into the crowd a woman stared at me. I don’t know why and didn’t enquire. It was not like last Friday which had been wonderful. Therefore it was a bit of a downer. Once you get used to something being very good, the okay is the new bad. As the crowd broke up a person (I cannot tell you if male or female, a person of obese proportions and a high pitched voice) said, “Nice dancing old man,” which isn’t how I like to be addressed even though the description is perfectly accurate. We shook hands, or more exactly a limp extremity was shaken by my hand. A retort passed through my mind, but I will not commit it to text as it is vulgar and politically incorrect. Went down to the pier to wait for the fireworks and the batteries went flat on the CD player, and the backups I almost always remember to take with me turned out to be flat too. Oh, I didn’t like that. Fireworks were good. Walking home some fellow in a car found himself impelled to call out to me, “Loner,” which again is accurate to a ‘T’, but why does someone feel it worth calling that out from a passing car? Some 10 minutes later someone else felt the same kind of need to just shout, “huh” or some such noise as he passed. (I wasn’t even dancing.) These pathetic idiocies need to be compared to the waves and shouts of ‘We love your dancing,’ which I have also experienced. So, to recap-
People ask to be photographed with me.
One asked for an autograph
People want to dance with me
Some ask for lessons
They video me
and now I have been interviewed for radio (well, internet radio) and amusingly this was the first day that a queue formed to talk to me (the woman and then the radio man) It is now 1 am and tomorrow is saturday. oh, as I walked home I thought of a comment for the interview, “From Bournemouth beach you can see Old Harry Rocks, and now you can say, “Old Beachdancer rocks”.


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