'Hobberdy Dick'. How I became famous around the world and never even knew.

Ever heard of 'Hobberdy Dick'? Sadly, not many people in the UK have. And as it's a rather dangerous title to Google, let me tell you all about it...

In 1955, when I was still in nappies, Katherine Briggs wrote a children's book called Hobberdy Dick. It was set in a country house, during the English Civil War. In this house, as in all houses, lived a house elf called Hobberdy Dick. The book is all about his adventures and his battles with the wicked witch - Mother Dark. It's a good read, actually.

I'd never heard of it until 1994, when a company called Kino Productions approached me and asked me to write a demo for the title song for a cartoon series based on the book. I asked for £200, (you could get payed for demos in those days - a different world.) and they agreed. There was even a contract, of sorts, but heaven knows where that is.

They gave me an outline of the story and charactors and left me to it. I came up with a short folk rock song (think Fairport Convention) and knocked out a quick backing track. Then, because it was only a demo, I recorded myself singing the song and all the harmonies. You may be aware that I don't have the best voice in the world and some of the harmonies were distinctively dodgy, but it got the idea across well enough.

I then copied it onto an audio cassette (1994, remember) and delivered it to them.
"Very nice", they said. "Just what we're looking for."
"Thank you," I said, "That'll be 200 quid."

It took months to get that money. I won't list the endless letters & phone calls, but in the end my wife Sara - who's good at that sort of thing - doorstepped their office in Soho and I got a cheque.

After that, I registered the song with the Performing Rights Society (PRS) and forgot about it. They never got back in touch.

Then, a couple of years ago, the song popped into my head. So, on a whim and rather bravely, I Googled it. Most of the results were about the book, but then I saw a listing in Chinese. And underneath the Chinese writing was written, in English...
'Hobberdy Dick is fairy born, he keeps us safe and sound.
He's never been seen by a human being,
But you always know when he's been 'round.'

"Bugger me", I thought, "I wrote that!" So I started to search in earnest.

It turns out that those lovely folk at Kino Productions had made a 26 part cartoon series. They used my original demo, with the dodgy harmonies and a nasty 'wow' from the audio cassette. They even put my name in the credits!  What they didn't do is register me on the contracts with the networks that I was the composer. Now composer's get paid everytime their music is played on TV or radio and this means that I missed out on thousands and thousands of pounds of revenue over the years. Let alone the fact they should have paid me much more than £200 for the rights to use it at all.

The show never aired in the UK. If it had, I'd probably been aware of it. But it went out everywhere else. Everywhere. China, Japan, Russia, Germany, Greece, USA, Canada, South America, Iceland.
I could go on. It was repeated several times but never made it to video or DVD.

So, I phoned up the PRS and went in to meet them. They said they could do nothing. It was more than 8 years ago and didn't get shown in the UK. Frankly, I wasn't impressed but could do nothing.
I looked up Kino Productions and discovered they'd just gone out of business. I'd missed them by less than a month!

So, there it is. No way of getting paid for a worldwide 26 part series with 4 minutes of my music per episode. No way of getting back the 20 years when that could have been on my CV and showreel.

But - and it is a big but - my silly, out of tune, song was (and still is) loved by a generation of children. There are dozens of blogs & websites praising the series and especially the music. They quote (always wrongly) the lyrics. Everyone moans about the fact that you can't buy the series. You can't even get it illegally. It's gone. There used to be a really bad copy of the title sequence on YouTube. That's been taken down. Who by?

I tell you what. If you can think of a way to get my money, I'll give you 20%. But I bet you can't...

Here's the original:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfVcQvpU4ok

And here's what some South American dudes did with it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIt4_To5Xq0
Great Animation, I think.

And here, finally, is what it should have sounded like:
https://soundcloud.com/rodanderson/hobberdy-dick-theme-song

'VOCAL BOOTH TO GO' with Rod Anderson.

Please check out my video below.
This is for authors wanting audio books, voiceovers or people thinking about recording podcasts or meditations professionally. Have you ever thought about having recording your voice with an experienced sound engineer, but been put off by the cost?

I have recorded politicians, pop stars and people like you for most of  my working life. I know how to gently coach you, to get the best out of your voice and script. At the moment, I’m trying out a portable voice booth to go with my studio. It's made by the very clever guys at http://www.vocalboothtogo.co.uk
Check them out. Whilst I’m in this trial period, I can offer some pretty cheap rates, so now’s the time to get in touch! The trial rate is £30ph, this will be increasing when things are bedded in.

email me at rodanderson@blueyonder.co.uk or leave a message here.

Children's Favourites

Recently, Radio 2's Friday Night is Music Night was dedicated to spooky music. Rather oddly, in the interval, they featured two songs which I remember from my childhood: Sparky's Magic Piano & Tubby the Tuba. Neither of which are particularly spooky but I do remember them well. And then, along with all the other sad deaths recently, I heard that Ed 'Stewpot' Stewart has died. He was, of course, the presenter of 'Junior Choice'. which, although starting in 1968, was the follow up to 'Children's Favorites'.
Children's Favorites, which started in 1954 was introduced by Uncle Mac who's real name was Derek McCulloch 
Some of the first music I can remember was on this programme. And some of it was brilliant...
Anyone remember these? Click the title to listen.

The Happy Wanderer.

Now this is odd. Although I know the English words to the song, this is the version I remember. And, recorded in 1954, it does sound like the Hitler Youth!

 

Sparky's Magic Piano

This was released in 1948. And yet it seems to have a fully-formed vocoder sound which I didn't hear again until Wendy (Walter) Carlos's sound track to A Clockwork Orange. Vocoder's also feature on ELO's Mr Blue Sky. Aparently, the original machine that produced the noise was called a Sonovox 
Amazingly ahead of it's time.

 

The Laughing Policeman

Recorded in 1926 by Charles Penrose and possibly written by his wife. You cannot listen to this and not laugh. Or scream and run into the street!

 

The Teddy Bear's Picnic

Written in 1907, but apparently, this 1932 Henry Hall recording was of especially good quality with a large tonal range. It was used for more than 30 years by BBC audio engineers (up until the early 1960s) to test and calibrate the frequency response of audio equipment.

The 3 Billygoats Gruff

This used to scare the life out of me. Especially the Troll bit! I still find it a bit uncomfortable to listen to...

The Railroad Runs Through The Middle of the House

Finally, this classic. Utterly stupid but I loved the sound FX and, of course the ending!

Those are some of my favorites. Please share yours...

 

Easter with Ikea and the AA.

We're having our fitted wardrobes replaced. We bought them from Ikea, 9 years ago. Dave Hoser and I put them up in the back bedroom - which is now Sara's office - and very nice they looked,too.
But, gradually, the doors (opening, not sliding ones. These things are important.) started to sag and then give way. I know the feeling...
Then Sara remembered that Ikea do a guarantee on their products that last 10 years. So she phoned them up and they said that, yes, they were still under guarantee.
"Great," we said, "In that case can we have some new doors?"
"One problem," they replied, "We don't make that style any more."
"Ah."
"But," they continued, "Would you like new wardrobes instead? We'll deliver and fit them for you. Then we'll take the old ones away."
Good old Ikea. Now that is customer service like it used to be. We were delighted.
Ikea sent a chap round to inspect the wardrobes and he confirmed that the glue on 4 of the 6 doors had failed and so the whole lot could be replaced.
But, of course, nothing's perfect and we discovered that they don't make anything like the big, deep, corner unit anymore.
Never mind, though, we'll keep the corner unit and just replace the other two. They won't quite match but what can you do? Especially as Ikea were offering sliding doors on the new units. Very useful in Sara's, rather crowded, new office. Ikea suggested one 100cm unit and one 50cm unit. That would fill the space nicely.
This, rather impressively, was going to take place over the Easter Bank Holiday. They'd deliver the new stuff on the Thursday and the chaps from Assembly Angels (No, really, that's their name.) would come on Bank Holiday Monday to take down the old ones & assemble the new ones. Then Ikea would come on the Tuesday and take away the old stuff.
People working on Bank Holidays. We were even more impressed.
On Thursday, the van arrived with the new wardrobes. The Ikea men carried it all in and left it in the hallway downstairs. We counted the boxes. 14. There were supposed to be 15. Apparently, a shelf was missing.
Never mind. If that's as bad as it gets, well, who's complaining?
Over the Saturday and Sunday, Sara moved all her stuff out of the old units into the middle bedroom. We'd need that room on Monday evening because our friend Oriana was coming to stay. But by the time she arrived, we'd have the new wardrobes and all the stuff could go back in them. Perfect.
We got a phone call on Monday morning. The chap from Assembly Angels was running early. Early? Yes early. He'd be there in 30 minutes. Excellent. This was going really well.
And there he was. Ready to assemble for all he was worth. Except...
Now we all know that when someone who is doing work in your house says, "Er, can I just have a word?" then it's not going to be good news.
"Sliding doors."
"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"
"Sliding doors. That's a 2 man job."
Apparently, they have to be assembled flat on the floor and lifted into place. Hadn't the Angelic Assemblers been aware of this problem?
Apparently not.
"Could I help?"
"Health & Safety."
Apparently not.
He wasn't even very keen on dismantling the old stuff, until Sara shamed him into it by starting to do it herself. He promised 2 men would arrive tomorrow.
So, Monday lunchtime found us with Ikea boxes in the hallway, dismantled wardrobes scattered about upstairs, and Sara's clothes piled high in the spare bedroom.
A few hours later found us with dismantled wardrobes neatly stacked in the hallway, Ikea boxes neatly stacked in our bedroom, the spare room fit for our guest to sleep in and 2 rather weary people who weren't, in any way, owners of functioning wardrobes.
Never mind.
Today's Tuesday. The two guys from Assembly Angels arrived. A bit late, but they arrived.
Then...
"Er, can I just have a word?"
With implacable logic the man from AA explained to me that we had one 100cm unit and one 50cm unit. I knew that. That's what Ikea said we should have. With lovely sliding doors.
He then explained that with those dimensions and with two 75cm sliding doors, there would always be a bit of the wider unit we couldn't get into. What we needed, he said, was two 75cm units.
He then proposed that I pay him £75 for yesterday's not-putting-up-of-wardrobe. And £25 for the same lack today.
He suggested we contact Ikea and re-order.
I suggested something else altogether.
Never mind. At least Ikea were coming to remove the old units from the hall.
And come they did.
"Er, can I just have a word?"
Apparently, the old units that Sara and I had carefully carried downstairs, had protruding nails and, even worse, glass in the doors.
"That's not glass," I said, bending one sheet into a parabola, "You can't do that with glass."
"Yes it is," he insisted, "And anyway, we've 18 deliveries to do and couldn't fit it all in the van."
He then took some photos to show his boss what idiots those AA guys were...
Never mind.
I went to buy some beer and now have a sore head.
Not from the beer.
On the way back into the house, I cracked my head on the old units that are still in the hallway.

Night Boat to Bari...

Let there be Light....
When you last heard from us, Sara was describing us sitting in the New Port bar in Corfu town. I was nursing a pint. Sara had a cheeky Ouzo. It was midnight and very warm...
We had been told to be at the departure gate at 01.00, so we were there somewhat before that. I love to be early, so I lie blatantly to Sara about the time. This time, however, she didn't mind, as joining us on the boat was a Classic Car rally. There were polished cars of every type. We spotted Ferrari, Lotus, Bugatti and even a little Fiat 500. All shining under the harbour lights. Did I mention that it was hot?
There was just a little breeze, now. Cooling us as we trooped into the departure area. Actually, as I looked around, I could see that we were in the arrivals area. But no matter, just because you have a brand new port building, doesn't mean you have to use it properly. The crowd of mainly young Italian travellers reverted to stereotype by yelling, gesticulating, posturing and generally carrying-on. We were an Oasis of stoic, English calm amongst the Latin maelstrom.
The weather, too, remained hot. And sultry.
Then the happy, relaxed and motivated port staff reacted to the good-humoured hammering on the glass doors by opening the correct departure doors. These were located behind us. The crowd surged back past us and out of the door. We were now very much at the back of the queue. We arrived outside into the hot and rather humid night.
However, we were rewarded by the friendly staff, who repaid our correct behaviour by pointing out that there was actually a bus parked there. It would take us the 400m to where the ship would dock in air-conditioned comfort.
The Italian youth ran down the dock, set on getting to the front of the queue and bagging the best place on the boat to kip down. We sat on the bus. Which then roared into life, as the caffeine-crazed driver lurched from side to side down the rather thin pier, scattered the marauding Italians in all directions and depositing half a dozen rather shaken Brits and a nun (of unknown pedigree) in pole position.
We stood at the end of the dock and watched the breathless youths arrive. We were rather smug
Now, two important things should be mentioned at this point. There was no sign of a boat and it was getting rather windy. There were flickers of lightening in the distance...
I had just noticed that there were two small shelters with thin, slatted wooden sides when the storm hit...
As thunder, lightening, rain and gale-force winds burst suddenly around us, we legged it for the nearest shelter. Fifty people crammed into a space big enough for twenty. Shelter was almost exactly what this structure didn't provide.
I have seen big storms before, but I have never been that close to one that I felt I should offer it a cigarette afterwards and ask it how it was for them.
Rain sprayed through the gaps in the side. Thunder crashed all around us in binaural splendour. Lightening flashed every few seconds. And this was proper lightening. The stuff that looks like lightening drawn by a 5 year old. A helmeted cyclist was wimpering softly. He asked me if we were in any danger. I said that I was sure we would be fine. I lied for the second time that day...
Then Sara had a brainwave. We were carrying sleeping mats that might afford some protection from the weather. We produced these and an odd thing happened. A bunch of frightened Italian teenagers suddenly reached collectively into their race memory and produced a classic tortoise shield formation that the 10th Legion would be proud of. Ave, dude!
However, the rain was now blustering in all directions so we were soon wet and cold. The Cyclist asked me if I thought we would survive. I mentioned some old guff about Farriday Cages and the insulating properties of wood. I assured him we'd be safe unless the Tsunami got us. He looked at the crashing waves and thrashing rain. He then stood on the wooden bench. And whimpered again.
By now, the soaking legionaries were getting desperate. One woman tried to borrow the nun's brolly. We shouted her down. I mean, you can't go around robbing nuns just because you're wet, scared and want your mamma.
Another couple tried to persuade us to run back to the terminal building. We declined. We'd seen that movie. They get nearly there and then the lightening/T Rex/Sharknado/Alien gets them.
I was convinced that the boat would not be arriving and had told the cyclist we were stuck there. He was just asking if anyone had any Rosary beads when the boat suddenly appeared out of the maelstrom. From nowhere. Backwards. Talk about showing off!
So on we piled. The wet legionaries, the nun, the catatonic cyclist and about 50 vintage cars in need of a good polish and, in the case of a couple of convertibles, now offering fishing rights.
We found a table with a couple of bench seats and were about to make ourselves comfortable when some spotty oik told us in Italian that he had bagged them for his mates.
That was probably a mistake. Sara was tired, cross, soaked through and desperate for equally large measures of wine and sleep. She explained this to the unfortunate lad eyeball to eyeball and with certain colourful phrases that probably hadn't formed part of the Italian school curriculum.
He fought his corner with sulks and mutters, but his heart wasn't in it. Eventually they all slunk away.
Just as well, within 10 minutes Sara was asleep and snoring happily. Sleep might be difficult for the rest of us....

Fish and Chips - revisited

Sometimes, only Fish and Chips will do.
Not often, in my case, but when you fancy them they are the food of the Gods. We had some last night, on the way back from seeing an art exhibition. We bought them from the 'Sea Shell in Lisson Grove'. And they were very good.
Other times, I rather enjoy making my own. And this is what I do...
First, prepare your chips. Peel and chop some spuds into the size of chip you like. This is very important. With chip-shop chips, there will always be some too big or too small for your taste. And there will always be at least one chip which is a bit 'green' at one end. This is your chance to have chips exactly as you like them.
Now, pop into the garden and harvest about a tablespoon of rosemary. Pull the leaves off the woody stems and put them into a pestle & mortar with some chopped garlic cloves (two or three, depending on the size). Add freshly ground pepper and some Malden sea-salt. Pour in a good slug of olive oil - it doesn't need to be expensive stuff, you're just cooking with it.
Now, smush all that up until you have a greenish paste. Par-boil the chips in salted water for just a few minutes, no more.
Put the oil & garlic/rosemary goo into a roasting tray and heat it on the stove for a moment. Add the chips and mix it all up with a slotted spoon. Another sprinkle of salt & pepper and chuck it into an oven at gas mark 6. It'll be done when the chips are as brown as you like them.
Now, the fish.
For me, it has to be Cod, but any white fish will work. It should be a boneless fillet, though. Bones have no place in fish & chips.
Sprinkle a tablespoon or two of plain flour into a bowl and season with lots of salt and pepper. Dredge the fish through the seasoned flour. Then wait until the chips are almost done.
Now, get a cast iron frying pan and heat some olive oil. When it's hot, lob in the fish. If there's skin on the fish, cook it skin side up for just a minute or so. Then turn it over and watch it like a hawk.
In a very short time it'll start to flake. As soon as it does, the fish is ready. Just a few minutes is all it takes. Don't over-cook it, whatever you do.
That's it. A little lemon juice on the fish, and serve.
Do try it. It's so good.

Gospel Oak to Barking: The Cinderella Line

From my Blog for the Tottenham & Wood Green Journal.

I’m a big railway fan, but I had lived in South Tottenham for 10 years before I travelled on what is usually called the Goblin Line. I didn’t think it went to anywhere useful, to be honest. Well, I was wrong!  It is, in fact, very useful and growing numbers of passengers have, like me, discovered this. And here we have the problem. During rush hour, the tiny two-car trains are seriously over-crowded. People often cannot get on the train at all. So they wait 15 minutes until the next train, only to find that’s full too. Surely there must be an easy solution to this? More trains? Longer trains? Sadly, it’s not as easy as that.

A little background information:  Wikipedia tells me that the line came into being in the 19^th century. It was formed from the Tottenham & Forest Gate Railway and the Tottenham & Hampstead Junction Railway. It pootled on over the years as a sleepy and under-used suburban line. It managed to avoid the Beeching cuts of the 1960’s. It became part of the North London Railway and then Silverlink.

Then, thanks to Ken and Boris, came Transport for London and the Overground. Smarter stations, more staff and trains every 15 minutes. And we realised that it’s a really useful little railway. From South Tottenham, you can be walking on Hampstead Heath in 14 minutes. With one change you can get to Southend, Richmond, Clapham Junction, Olympia & Shepherd’s Bush. It’s great for commuting too. The Goblin line, almost overnight, became very popular.  And very crowded.

So, what can be done? Well, sadly, there’s not really much capacity for more trains. The Goblin line is not only popular with passengers. Goods trains like it too.  It’s a jolly useful link as a sort of M25; carrying stuff around London and off to the rest of the country. So it’s pretty much full. Not to mention that people in Walthamstow have been complaining about bits dropping off their houses due to vibrations caused by heavy goods trains.

Here’s an odd thing. The Goblin Line is one of very few lines in London that is not an electric railway. You have to use smelly old diesel power. Now, everyone – Transport for London, the Department for Transport, Network Rail, the Goods Companies – thinks that electrifying the line is a Good Idea. But nobody wants to pay for it. There’s been lots of finger-pointing and questions have even been asked in the house, but no money has been forthcoming. They can’t even agree on what it will cost, for goodness sake! The DfT say £90m. Network Rail says £50m. Some bloke in Modern Railways magazine even reckoned he could get it done for £9m!

So, could we at least have longer diesel trains? Well, according to the Barking-Gospel Oak Line User Group, not really.  Even if you could buy them quickly – off the shelf, as it were – they would be expensive and, given new regulations, might not pass emissions tests.

Oh, and whatever powers the trains, if they are longer they won’t fit the platforms. So someone has to pay to lengthen the stations. Any offers? No, thought not.

And then Transport for London issue a press release. This says that they intend to increase ALL Overground line trains to FIVE carriages. Hurray! Problem solved! Good old Boris!

Er, no. Sorry. Bit of a mess-up in the press office. All lines except the Goblin. Obviously.

So there it is. A big, bureaucratic stalemate. Answers on a postcard, please.

It’s still a great little line, though.  It trundles along at a stately 30mph.  The trains are clean and comfortable – outside of rush hour.  It’s well staffed with friendly people. From South Tottenham you can visit the funky Brazilian Cafe in the old station booking office. Or amble over to Markfield Park to visit the Steam Engine and the excellent Cafe. From Harringay Green Lanes, you’re only a step away from Sainsbury’s and the nearby pubs and vibrant Cypriot restaurants.  It’s not far from the marvellous, re-located Harringay Market either. Crouch Hill is technically 50 metres outside the borough, but it’s still an easy stroll down to the delights of Crouch End.

For more on the Goblin Line, visit the excellent Barking-Gospel Oak Line User Group website. http://www.barking-gospeloak.org.uk/ If anyone can sort out this wretched mess, they can.

Where there’s a will there’s a way...