Sheila Reid's Showcase

Sheila's tribute to Arf'ur manager of The Annex.

'Arf'ur'

As he bounces along singing a song
the blonde trou'badour of the West..
His viking good looks..skin without
plukes!..rates him along with the best!

In his office retreat..with a client he'll
meet..and in low honeyed tones he'll
explain..the "do's" and the "dont's"
the "wills" and the "wont's" and the
meaning of ..."playing the game"

As they enter his door!...comic turn!
crashing bore!.......with his smile he
embraces them all!...in a high pressure
meeting!...or a pipe that is leaking!...
Ar'fur's the one that they call!

Though the stresses are great..and some
people berate!.....he's no problem in
smoothing their feathers!...using skills
and his charm..a unique Ar'fur balm
he will soon put an end to their "blethers!"

His silvery hair!...gives him the 'air'
of a rich man from the Bahamas
Has the right shake of 'tan' the colour
of 'bran'..all that's missing is silken
pyjama'as!

In this cynical world..where problems
abound..it's heartening to find an Ar'fur
around!...never too!busy to stop for a
chat..he came into this world as a born
Diplomat!......(By Partick Pilgrim)

Another poem from Sheila Reid - an some information about what she's been up to down in Partick at the Annex

One in a crowd!

Walking along the road in Partick on a blustery rainy
February day.....I am amazed at all the sun-kissed.....tanned people who pass by.
Feeling rather 'anaemic'I dash into a chemist shop and buy a deep shade of foundation cream
in the hope that my pale face will merge more readily with the local inhabitants

The sun-bed craze is here to stay...despite all the dire
warnings of health problems...funny thing is!....if you watch
the Aussie 'soaps'....they! seem to be getting pale!
.... despite the awesome sun.....and we! in our dreich wet
climate are turning from our normal blue white shade!..... golden brown!

Mind you .it does have its downside no more!..on our return
from su--drenched beaches can we show of' our
glorious not quite pain free ta.....trouble is....everyone has one!
....that raises the problem for those amongst us who are natural posers
....how will they manage to 'stand out'?...
it's a tricky one...unless!.....but I would'nt be brave enough to do it!
add bleach to the bath water....very pale!....but very interesting!.......at least you;d stand out!

What Sheila's been up to

I've written a new play about a Health Club called.."Standing Room Only"...it will be performed..early part of May....it's a comedy and the research material for it was very funny!!....only hope I have managed to convey this in my script!

The production is in partnership with the Partick Community Association ...and will be held in the Annexe..Stewartville Street Glasgow..... again! the cast will be drawn from local people.

The Annexe itself goes from strength to strength hosting a wide variety of activities for local people to suit all ages...each week brings yet!. another new activity on board. Mr Arthur McGough the centre Manager has plans at the moment to assemble a 'choir'so all you 'warblers' out there come along and join it!

Give Arthur a ring at 0141 357 6747 and he will be delighted to let you know the full range of activities taking place.
The choice is impressive!

S. Reid

Travesty

Sheila is passionately opposed to the 'sport' of fox hunting, currently a major political issue in Scotland and the rest of Britain . Sheila makes this the topic for her latest poem:

The Killing Fields.

Just two fields to cross and he was home. His plan seemed simple enough but, he knew the danger of an open field: no trees to give cover: his bright orange coat stood out like a flame against the dark brown of the earth.

He could hear the barking of the hounds : the sound of galloping horses thundering towards him. He could see flashes of scarlet as the 'Hunt' relentless and merciless bore down upon him!

The strident tinny sound of the horn pierced the morning air. The hot smokey sweat of the horses reached his quivering sensitive nostrils. Nearer! and nearer!: the ground trembled beneath him.

He had got his second wind..but, somehow he could'nt run any faster. Gone was the fluidity of movement he once had. His heart thumped and bumped against his small chest. He was losing ground!....images of home engulfed him with a great sadness, making him stop momentarily in his flight.

His amber eyes widened with fear at the oncoming scene. Horses, men, hounds....noise.....all bearing down on him. So many of them!......against!...just him! Would this be his last run?

He had been in this sort of scrape many times before and managed to survive. However, he was'nt young any more and the punishing rigours of past encounters with the 'hunt' had left him with a weakened back leg. Despite this handicap he had always managed to out-manoeuvre the pack. An icy finger touched his heart. This time he was'nt so sure!

He lay against the stone wall...too exhausted even, to lift his head...his little heart visibly pounding . There was no where else to go!.. He was finished!

He watched turn the corner. The snarling howling mass! He closed his eyes. The killing began.

Cruel!..barbaric!....and bloody!......his beautiful tail cut off with a flourish!....part of the ritual..'blooding' of a child.....new to the sport!...

What a travesty!........to use the word 'Sport!' ....and still it continues today!

S.Reid.

Ikea - November, 2001

I awoke with a great feeling of anticipation. The day had finally arrived when I could at last!...visit the 'temple' of the houseproud.....'Ikea'

Like hundreds of other faithful worshippers I entered the 'hallowed' doors at Braehead and could scarcely contain my excitement as I viewed all the 'goodies' beyond.

My conversion to 'Ikea' had been a gradual one.....glowing reports from friends ....browsing through their Catalogue all convinced me that this was a life-style change I just had to make.

What to buy? there seemed so much....such variety. Straight away I procured a trolley and selected a comfy Duvet and attractive blind. Further on I found a bookcase perfect for my needs and took careful note of the number.

Making my way downstairs to the Market Hall became a bit of a challenge...no cash points on the floors so, all payment had to be made down at the furthermost point of the building. However, on arriving downstairs I realized that when I found the 'flat' pack containing my bookcase I would require a much larger trolley than the one I was pushing.

Things became just the teeniest wee bit stressful as I rushed up and down the aisles looking for my bookcase. At last I located it and transferred my previous purchases along with the amazingly heavy 'flat pack' onto the trolley which did allow me to move through the crowds quicker as I tended to use it as a 'battering ram'.

At last I reached the checkout and when I finally managed to maneuver my trolley and purchases through; I felt quite fatigued. Resting for a few moments I soon noticed the area provided by Ikea where customers could wrap and tie up their purchases. Although the area, as expected, is most adequate for this purpose. I did find wrestling with a duvet and a large sheet of brown paper rather irritating. The blind I decided could stay unwrapped.

Out in the cool air I began to feel a bit better and the walk to my car with the trolley seemed quite reasonable...I had blocked from my mind the effort I would require to get the flat pack in the boot. However, bollards on the perimeter of the pavement meant that I would have to leave the trolley, bring the car to the door and hopefully, be able to load it from there.

People are kind..and I was fortunate enough to get someone to 'mind' the trolley till I dashed rather breathlessly to where it was parked and brought it round to the front entrance.

I find 'Flat Packs' in general require a lot of concentrated effort and above all patience. I am rather short on the latter and so, two days of trying to work out what went where proved rather tiresome. The bookcase is now in place but the appearance of three screws and a black thingamybob makes me think it might not prove as reliable as I hoped!

In this day of technical wizardry..would'nt it be lovely if someone opened a shop where you just walked in and said " can I buy that please" and in the example of say a wardrobe..a few days later you have the piece of furniture...and!!! it's all assembled ready for your clothes......magic! I think something like that would catch on!...don't you?

I don't mind too much the wrapping of my own purchases, or the lugging of the larger ones, but it could set a dangerous precedent....for the future.......what if you were handed an axe!.... and asked to chop down your own tree?

Sheila Reid - Partick's Playwright

The Belly Dancer - October, 2001

I took to Madam Shazeen at once when I saw the bells, tulle and satin: I instinctively knew this! was my scene. I have always been a bit of an extrovert so the opportunity to wriggle my body about draped in an exotic costume appealed tremendously. I just had to join her "Belly Dancing Class".

To become accomplished dancers she insisted from the start that we look the part. My first purchase was the material for the diaphanous skirt. Being, of generous proportions, I required seven yards of pink tulle.

The top of the costume posed a bit of a challenge, how to achieve the right "Effect" with just a hint of sensuality. I adapted an old "brassiere" with built up shoulders and decorated it tastefully with plastic flowers I had in the house. Having only two pink tulips this proved tricky. They had to be carefully placed to avoid looking like overblown nipples. Sequins liberally scattered over the straps and tassels stripped from a lampshade completed the stunning garment. It was truly eye catching......from a distance.

The jewel for my navel posed quite a problem. No matter what type of bead I tried to put in...it fell out! Until in desperation...I remembered I had a brooch with a large amber "Cairngorm". I carefully prized out the stone and what luck! It fitted perfectly.

Having to leave off my girdle was rather embarrassing at first, as my stomach muscles have somewhat deteriorated and the excess flesh tended to hang down in folds, but as Madam Shazeen complimented me on having so much to "Swing" about! I soon gained confidence with by broad garland of bells resting firmly on my hip bones. Unlike the others, I do not have to "Swing" from side to side to make them ring...I just have to walk to make them jangle uproariously.

One mature lady, a new member, spent two nights making blue satin slippers with curly toes: Madam Shazeen had to explain to her that it was Sheherazade we were emulating not Aladdin .

We also wear tiny bells around our ankles, which draw attention to our little imperfections: corn plasters and bunion protectors....but Madam Shazeen does insist we dance barefoot. I must admit the soles of my feet have toughened up beautifully and look exactly like my leather handbag.

A sour note was struck in the class last week when Maud, my friend, was so entranced by the diamond in Madam Shazeen's nose that she decided to copy her. She visited a little known jeweller to have her nose pierced. Unfortunately.... he positioned the sapphire too low on her nostril and unless one is standing very close to her, the jewel can be mistaken for a 'bogie'.

The dancing itself is excellent and promotes greater control of the body. I now find I don't require large quantities of 'fibre' for healthy elimination of waste, the rhyme swaying and squeezing of the 'innards' makes going to the 'loo' a very efficient act.
A further benefit I have found is doing my domestic chores, such as...making my bed with a coin held firmly between my buttocks, this does wonders for tightening the "anus" muscles, No more embarrassing explosions of 'flatulence'. Like a piece of 'high tech' equipment, the wind can be controlled so that it escapes only in quiet dignified jets.

Regretfully, there was one particular sequence of movements, which had to be stopped... as it was proving injurious to the members. The thrusting gyrations of the chest.... combined with the shaking movements of the breasts...were dislodging quite a few dentures. Trying to identify whose teeth belonged to whom! was also very impractical

Three weeks today is the Annual Display. We have been asked by Madam Shazeen to contribute towards extra incense and Joss Sticks. The reason being, that performing before the public...could possibly over activate our sweat glands. She tactfully suggested we remember to use our "Immac" as an abundance of under arm hair could detracts from the sensuous significance of the arm movements.

I am looking forward to getting my first term Certificate' as I have with dogged determination perfected my 'pelvic thrusts'. At I may add, no small cost. During the hours I have practised at home I have demolished: two half tea sets and a china 'Loch Ness Monster. Shaking them all from their place on my Welsh dresser. A sacrifice worth making for the sake of my 'Art'. Sheila Reid - Partick's Playwright