Rabbit, Rabbit and Rabbits At The Town Show.

The Dagenham Town Show was a good experience, despite the gale force winds and the looming threat of rain. There were lots of stalls in the community and society tents, there was a fun fair and you could even get a ride on a helicopter (if you had the money).

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We'd come to see Chas 'n Dave who were second on the bill from Aswad. It was an odd experience to be excited about a band that wasn't exactly at the apex of its fame, but the battered, tarnished gleam of old school celebrity seemed to shine all of a sudden. They were playing live! At a Town Show! In our area!!! This somehow made all the difference.

But Dave wasn't going to be there. The local paper had reported that his wife had died, this now being relevant since they were PLAYING! THE! TOWN! SHOW! so Dave dropped out and Chas had to press on alone. I was curious as to how that might work. I also felt rather miserable for Dave. It didn't make the national media and there were no vapid celeb-obsessed Heat readers discussing it in the pub. His loss wasn't considered worthy of 'proper' attention. But perhaps that was a blessing?

Life carried on though. There were slightly over-priced hot-dogs to savour and a cocktail tent too! (No proper beer tent, though. They didn't want to give the proles ideas.)



We went to the youth club tent. We went past some St John's Ambulance cadets as we went in. They were clad in sinister black paramilitary uniforms and berets, like a sort of junior fascist paramedic cadre. Inside, the local boxing club had gloves and punch bags. I pounded one bag while imagining it was the face of various twats I'd run into over the years. The world was full of them. It felt good.



The local city farm had a fine array of animals to look at.



The rabbits, guinea pigs and Shetland pony all seemed quite sanguine, despite all the enormous pink and brown hairless things gawping at them while making a dreadful racket.



A toddler fired his bubble pistol at a pedigree goose, who just trotted off for a drink. Idiot humans? Comes with the territory.



The show was also a good way to see all sorts of different people who would normally never meet. Chavs rubbed shoulders with middle class art society members, emos casually strolled past army recruiters in field uniforms, young and old wandered in the midst of one another and even those strange, seldom seen and almost mythical creatures called 'the police' made an apperance.



The best part of the show was the Dagenham Idol, or rather a straw and wicker homage to it. The original was a wooden figure from the Bronze age, Excavated in the local area c. 1922, and possibly a symbol of fertility. The artists who were assembling the homage claimed there was a tug of love over it between another local park and the museum where the real idol resided. No violence was involved, but the idol had no doubt roused primal and savage territorial instincts.

In the end, I had to miss Chas and go home to look after someone who was feeling ill. For all the wind, it felt like a good experience, if a little truncated.