Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881. By Pierre-Auguste Renoir.
The Boating Party is a series of interviews with writers, artists, photographers, filmmakers, musicians, sculptors, designers and the like.
In times of economic hardship the Arts are usually the first things to be axed. But, in my view, the Arts are the most important aspect of our civilisation. Without the arts, we wouldn’t have language or the written word. Without the arts, we have no culture. Without culture, we have no society. Without society, we have no civilisation. And without civilisation, we have anarchy. Which, in itself, is paradoxical, because so many people view artists as rebels to society.
To me, artists aren’t rebels, they are pioneers.
And perhaps, most importantly; without the Arts, where’s the creativity that will solve the world’s problems? Including economic and scientific ones?
This week, I’m delighted to welcome radio broadcaster, children’s author, lyricist and all-round communications expert, Denis Goodbody.
What’s your greatest personal or career achievement?
My greatest achievements have all been to do with communicating ideas. We take communication for granted in our society – we assume that all the verbal conversations, physical gestures and expressions we send out every day are understood. When they are not understood, as often as not, we blame the other party.
I help people communicate their messages for a living and I think that has helped me realize the fragility of a ‘message’. When we communicate we are transmitting ideas, the most precious of all commodities on earth. Once upon a time the ‘wheel’ was an idea. “Will you marry me” is an idea. In my day-to-day life I see beautiful, wonderful, precious ideas go up in flames or sink without trace because the people gifted with those ideas failed to communicate it successfully.
On a personal level my proudest achievement is, somehow, communicating to my wife that I’d be a suitable husband. On a professional level my proudest achievement is to have sustained myself and my family doing something I love – having ideas and communicating them.
What’s been your greatest sacrifice?
God I’m fortunate. I could be pompous and say it’s an aspect of my philosophy on life, to say that I don’t look back or I avoid regret but that would be tosh. I’m one very lucky guy. Like everyone, I have reached the sign post and had to choose between busy thoroughfares and roads less traveled and I have usually taken the latter. I have never known what lay through the traffic jams on the busy thoroughfares because I’ve been too busy with the twists and turns on the less traveled ones. Did I sacrifice going out to expensive restaurants and drinking too much in favor of having kids? No sacrifice. Did I sacrifice my dream of the Parisian garret and the great novel? No sacrifice, my attention deficit and wayward ways would have left me starving in the garret with no important unpublished masterpiece left beside by gaunt corpse. The only thing I can think of that I could classify as a sacrifice was selling my extraordinarily beautiful first house but that wasn’t really a sacrifice. It was a groovy bachelor pad and it worked – the honey-trap helped win me a honey. Anything else I miss or regret would be loss, rather than sacrifice, and among those I would count the loss of my father’s life and my mother’s memory but what they have given me far outweighs their loss.
To whom do you owe a debt of gratitude?
Well I’ve just mentioned my parents so let’s take that as read. I have also mentioned my good fortune. It was my parents who chose the strange and archaic private education I received and it was my good fortune to have had the most incredible teachers. Nowadays half of them probably wouldn’t be allowed to teach because of insufficient qualifications, inability to speak Irish or whatever. I find it hard to think of one it wasn’t a privilege to learn from and that’s not just a rose tinted rear-view mirror. Oh, they were strict and sometimes sarcastic. One could hit your ear lob with a piece of chalk from thirty feet but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t use the skills, techniques and disciplines he taught me. One was a baronet and a racing driver. Another had his face badly burned rescuing a comrade from a tank at El Alamein. Yet another had mysteriously distorted finger nails which, we were led to believe, were the result of being tortured. I owe a debt of gratitude to all of those teachers, among whom I include my parents. As I observe the development of education I worry increasingly that it is becoming merely an ‘information-downloading exercise’ instead of the eye-opening, horizon lifting experience it should and can be.
Who and what inspire you?
Music, visual art, literature and children inspire me because they provide me with ideas and they stimulate the creation of more. Children inspire me because they embody possibility and hope. Seeing children observe things for the first time, trying to see those things as they see them, is a way for the rest of us to rediscover the world for ourselves. The notion that children should be seen and not heard is criminal. Music can speak truth without words, as can visual art. They speak truths in ways that leave everyone to witness their own version of that truth, free of argument or dissent. While I can’t say that of literature, as words are more self-evident, I will say this: fiction often contains more truth than fact. History has to be written from one standpoint from which it tries to recreate events. Fiction, on the other hand, makes no bones about its standpoint and is free to make its point subjectively and clearly without trying to be all things to all people.
What was the last thing that inspired you?
My wife’s singing inspires me, and has done for a good while now, so the last thing? I think The Illustrated Beatles exhibition in Dublin. 42 illustrators digging under the surface of 42 Beatles’ songs and presenting their findings in 42 incredible pictures. As a body of work it combines all of the things that inspire me: Music, visual art and literate lyrics, plus the fact that I heard the songs when I was a child and they helped form my worldview.
What makes you unhappy?
Hatred, war and cruelty and, for the most part, all of those things are borne out of bad communication. If the money that was spent by governments on the development of weapons was spent on finding away to avoid wars, we would have had a solution long ago. The problem is that there is profit in dissent which is why the really evil people in the world are those who foment discord, dividing and conquering for financial gain.
What makes you happy?
As well as music, art, literature and children? Family. When, as adolescents, we distance ourselves from our parents – an evolutionary necessity – we don’t realize how important it is to comeback. I married and bred late compared to many and no day passes without me going dewy eyed at the fact someone as incredible as my wife agreed to marry me, have a child with me and allow me to call the kids she already had ‘family’.
What’s your favourite smell?
Well it’s not napalm in the morning. In fact, the opposite. I love the smell of fresh air in the countryside. It can be a fragrant summer woodland or a winter storm on a beach. If it’s mingled with my wife’s perfume as we stroll together, that pretty much completes the olfactory picture.
What are you reading?
I’m just finishing a book about The Beatles’ visit to Dublin in 1963, a nice context to The Illustrated Beatles Exhibition. My literary weakness? Thomas Hardy. His books conjour the smells I’ve just describe and I think he could have been the world’s greatest cinematographer.
Who, or what, are you listening to?
As well as Carmen Browne? I’m listening to a lot more jazz than I used to but my listening-week is usually ruled by whatever topic I choose for my weekly radio show ‘Roots Musings’. You caught me on a bad week, it was a novelty show about Halloween.
What’s your favourite sound?
Silence. Silence is a canvas and when you have it, you can choose how to fill it. I’m funny that way.
What’s your favourite film?
God that’s hard. Chinatown, probably.
If you could go back in time, where would you go?
The beginning.
What frightens you?
Like any parent the thing that frightens me most is the prospect of any harm coming to one of the children and, by extension, to any children or animals. Intentional harm or cruelty to animals and children is the basest and most perverse human behavior.
What’s your favourite sense of touch?
I don’t want to be to graphic about it but having the skin of someone you love touch yours can’t be beaten in my book. And I don’t mean exclusively carnal contact either. I go to the nursing home to see my mother each week and I hold her hand. With her diminished memory there’s very little room for meaningful conversation but that touch says everything we need to say.
What do you do to relax?
Music, literature, visual art and breathing in that fresh country air, with birdsong spattering the silent canvas.
What do you do when you’re angry?
A lot of internalizing goes on which is unhealthy but it does mean I process stuff rather than let go on reflex. I do shout a bit which isn’t pretty as I have a very loud voice to begin with.
What can’t you live without?
We’ve already got music, literature, art, family and fresh air. To that you could add chilli and red wine, preferably consumed Langkawi restaurant on Baggot Street in Dublin. How are you fixed? [You're on. Next time I'm over!]
What’s your motto?
“Live and let love”.
What’s your Utopia?
I always have to remind people that in Thomas Moore’s original Utopia, they had slaves. This tarnishes the whole concept for me though it does teach me one important lesson. Living your life fairly and without exploiting others, means an element of hard work. To answer the question free of pontification, I would say my Utopia is somewhere in the west of Ireland with all of the things mentioned under the question “What can’t you live without?”
If you only had one year to live what would you do?
I would conquer my attention deficit and finish the novel I didn’t finish in question Two.
What sends your taste buds into overdrive?
Chilli – especially prawns. And I meant that about Langkawi! Mine’s a ‘Sambal Udang’.
Up who’s arse would you like to stick a rocket, and why?
If I were the rocket-suppository-inserting type – and I don’t believe I am – it would have to be Mitt Romney or some other American Tea Party Type. They have no concept or care of the world around them. They are phenomenally selfish. They are racist and intolerant. They embody just about everything the American Constitution – as I understand it – set out to avoid. I know it’s not my country but it is my world they are setting out to destroy. They are no better than the fundamentalists and terrorists they claim to oppose.
Who would you like to be stuck in an elevator with?
Would it be too obvious to say my wife? I have no desire to meet any of my heroes as I wouldn’t want that status diminished by reality. I guess I’d settle for Barrack Obama or Ang San Suu Kyi, both of whom I believe are incredible people.
What are you working on at the moment?
I should be working on a book I’m writing and a couple of advertising projects already overdue.
What is your ambition?
Right now, my ambition is to complete the answers to question 25. Beyond that, my ambition is threefold: finish the novel I started (not the one mentioned above), promote and expand my radio shows listenership, to write more songs with Carmen Browne. Before all of that, however, I’d have to say my ambition is to be the best Dad in the known universe beside which the other ambitions are a piece of cake.
Which six people would you invite to your boating party?
Thomas Hardy, Guy Clarke, Joni Mitchell, Carmen Browne, Barack and Michelle Obama.
What would be on the menu?
Sambal Udang, Sushi and lamb tagine and metzes. We’ll have a couple of bottles of the Chateau Kefraya – failing that, anything else from the Beka Valley.
What question would you liked me to have asked?
Other than what date we’re having that meal in Langkawi? I think I’d like to have been asked to define my concept of God. I am inundated with scientists, atheists, agnostics, fundamentalists and dogmatists telling me that God either does or doesn’t exist. None of them, as far as I can see, have taken the time to describe the God believe does or doesn’t exist. There’s almost 7 billion different concepts of God on this planet alone and I’m not arrogant enough to say that all of them are wrong. In the Judeo-Christian bible there is, I believe, a misprint. Where it says “God Created man in his own image”. The reality is the other way round – we create God in our image.
Thank you, Denis.
My two rascals seal of approval of Denis’ “How the Elk got to the Games”.
Denis Goodbody – Biography:
Denis is a writer and broadcaster living in Dublin. The bulk of his career has been spent conceiving, writing and producing advertising. In recent years he has expanded his love of having ideas producing and presenting 2 weekly radio shows, co-writing jazz songs and writing books.
True, it may not be as ambitious and world-changing as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s. But it’s a dream nonetheless.
To be honest, I wasn’t going to post about it until I felt I was in more of a position to realise this dream. But short of winning the Euro Millions Lottery, it aint going to happen without some serious philanthropic backer.
So, what is my dream?
Well, it’s to build a School of Arts for under-privileged kids.
Kids from low socioeconomic backgrounds in large inner-city estates. Kids who might not ordinarily get the opportunity to explore the more creative aspects of their nature.
What good would that do society? We’re in a depression, don’t you know!
Problems in every field of human endeavour are virtually always solved by creative thinking. Even the great Albert Einstein said so himself. Creativity allows us to look at problems from different angles and apply new thinking to solve problems.
Moreover, I don’t see it as a school that produces an unprecedented amount of artists. But an unprecedented amount of creative thinkers – whichever vocation they choose to pursue later in life. Whether it be mathematics, science, business, computers, product design, or economics.
And yes, a few more more artists too. And what’s wrong with that? Art is seen as a dirty word in this country. If I tell people I write poetry, they shift uneasily in their seats. If I said I write poetry in Ireland the response would be a polite smile and a nod toward the back of the queue.
Do you think the first rocket flight to the moon was dreamed up by a scientist?
Sure, scientists and engineers made it a reality. But it is creative people who come up with the ideas and the original solutions of how they can be achieved.
What will the kids do?
The school will develop and encourage creative thinking and self-expression.
It will foster, nurture and encourage exploration of the arts in all its many and varied forms including: painting, drawing, sculpture, ceramics, poetry, literature, screenplays, theatre, drama, dance, music, design, digital arts, film, photography, humanities, languages, and the classics.
Where is this school?
I quite fancy the idea of transforming a derelict Victorian mill. There’s something quite ironic about that. Though it certainly wouldn’t be a prerequisite. (Salts Mill in Bradford is a good example.)
Initially, an inner-city campus close to urban populations that have a high level of low socioeconomic families. Basically, anywhere across the Manchester – Huddersfield – Halifax – Leeds belt. It’s also sufficiently ‘central’ enough to accommodate children from further afield.
It would also be good to have a rural retreat – somewhere like the Lake District, Peak District or the Yorkshire Dales, where children can attend week-long courses/classes which double up as a holiday.
I would also like to open an international sister school in India or Sri Lanka where people from distinctly different cultures can share ideas. These schools could also participate in exchange programmes. (Then subsequently, even further afield: China, South America, South Asia.)
What about science subjects?
This school wouldn’t be a replacement for existing schools and their curricula – more of an extension to them.
Would it exclude people from non low socioeconomic backgrounds?
Not at all. But opportunities for middle-class families in other schools are much more accessible, regardless of ability.
Intake for low income kids would be based as much on desire and enthusiasm to participate rather than ability. There would be a limited number of places for more affluent children. Sort of like Eton – in reverse.
What kind of courses will it run?
Day-long workshops for visiting schools.
After-school classes.
Week-long courses. (Which would include accommodation for traveling students.)
Weekend classes.
Full-time sixth form courses. (A-levels.)
Masters and PhD courses.
What ages are we talking about?
Key Stage 3, up to, and including, sixth form.
Undergraduate, Masters and PhD courses.
What else does the school have?
Apart from studios and classrooms?
There’d be accommodation for students who are visiting from further afield.
Cafe / restaurant.
Gallery to promote and sell students’ work.
Gallery featuring independent contemporary and traditional art.
Masterclasses from guest lecturers.
State of the art library. (Both on and off-line.)
Book shop.
Art-house cinema.
Who will pay for it?
Well, that’s the biggest question of all.
A like-minded philanthropist would be nice.
Arts Council grant.
Lottery funding.
A percentage of Masters and PhD students’ tuition fees could go towards funding.
Sales from restaurant and galleries.
Fundraising / donations.
An Ideal World School of Arts.
Salts Mill, Bradford.
David Hockney at Salts Mill.
Salts Mill interior.
Studio space?
Any constructive criticism and advice about how to get something like this funded and off the ground would be greatly appreciated.
Filed under Advertising, Animation, Architecture, Art, Books, Brand, Cartoons, Ceramics, Children, Children's books, Children's stories, Classical music, Comedy, community, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Dance, Design, Digital, Disability, Economy, Education, Film, Haiku, Ideas, Illustration, Innovation, Inspiration, Inventions, Literature, Music, Philosophy, Photography, Poetry, Radio, Screenplays, Sculpture, Short stories, Writing
Where do you get your ideas from?
I get asked this all the time in my job.
I usually reply that the ideas come from the information I am supplied with to do the job.
All you have to do is jizz it up a bit in your creative cocktail shaker and see what comes out.
Sometimes it tastes like piss.
Other times it tastes like a Mojito mixed by Mr Hemingway himself.
But there are a few other ingredients that go into the creative cocktail shaker that aren’t in the brief.
These are taken from all the stuff you soak up in your daily life: art; literature; music; ads; news; gossip; film; blogs; tabloids; soaps; comedy, et cetera, et cetera.
What turns your cocktail from being piss into ambrosia is what bits of your own inspiration you put in there.
I came across this quote on the Gutenberg Press II:
I read something similar by Picasso a few years back. But in the spirit of the quote – he probably pinched it from someone else in the first place.
Here are a few bits of graffiti that you may have seen before, but what I like about these are how they integrate their art with the environment, rather than the environment being purely a canvas.
Whilst out for a saunter with my two girls, the eldest, who’s 5, said: Daddy! That looks like a cup!
This is what she was looking at…
Kids get it.
It’s adults who unlearn it.
Inspiration lurks everywhere, if you want to be inspired.
Filed under Advertising, Art, Books, Brand, Children, Comedy, community, Design, Digital, Film, Games, Haiku, Ideas, Illustration, Inspiration, Literature, Music, Photography, Poetry, Politics, Radio, Science, Screenplays, Sculpture, Short stories, Strategy, Writing
All ideas start with a spark of electricity. An electrical impulse which travels through synapses to become an action.
And there you have it: Life.
Congratulations. You are now the proud parent of an idea.
My two children started out as an idea. An idea that I wanted them. And I got two beautiful girls. (Of course, there was a lot of two-ing and fro-ing with the client. Got knocked back a few times, but I persevered.)
I am an ardent believer that absolutely anything is possible. If you can imagine it, it can be done. Time travel, yes. Star Trek teleporter thingamibobs, yes. Less than a hundred years ago, if you had said we would fly rockets to the moon most people would think you a loon. But somebody, somewhere had an idea that it was possible. Not necessarily the person who invented the rocket but way before that. Before Copernicus. Think stone age man staring up at the glowing creamy orb and wondering what it must be like to set foot on it.
That’s how a lot of ideas start. They don’t begin and end with the author. They get transferred to other people. People who believe your idea is a good one. It gathers momentum and before you know it, it isn’t an idea anymore. It’s a thing. A noun. It lives.
Here’s an idea: What if that’s all we are – An Idea? The whole universe, an idea that somebody dreamed up. Who? Perhaps it’s a kid looking out of his bedroom window staring up at a moon. Or a little girl imagining a make believe world, or a scientist wondering what life might be like on another planet. Whoever it was, I think they’ve buggered off for their dinner.
The point? If you can think it, it can be done. If you believe in it, it will gather momentum. You will have to nurture it at first with the tender loving care a parent should give its baby. But at some stage you have to let it go and grow up all by itself. It’s not yours anymore. It has its own friends. It’s own opinions and you might not necessarily always agree with them. Maybe they don’t turn out quite as you had hoped. Maybe they’re more Batley High School than Oxford. But still, it is your baby and you should be proud.
Filed under Advertising, Art, Books, Comedy, community, Design, Film, Haiku, Ideas, Inspiration, Literature, Photography, Poetry, Politics, Radio, Screenplays, Short stories, Writing
Afghan Stan radio sketch
© David Milligan-Croft
SOLDIER: Sarge, can you take a look at my rifle. It doesn’t seem to be working.
SARGE: Give it here, son. What’s the matter with it?
SOLDIER: Well, it doesn’t seem to have a trigger.
SARGE: No trigger?
SOLDIER: Or a barrel for that matter. Or a stock, magazine or bullets.
SARGE: That’s because it’s a stick, Private.
SOLDIER: Yes, Sarge, I can see that. Just wondered how we were supposed to fight the Taliban with it.
SARGE: Use your imagination lad! Like this, (makes child-like shooting noises) terrreerr, p-koo, p-koo, cherrreerrrerrrr.
SOLDIER: Sarge?
SARGE: P-yowng, p-koo… Yes, Laddy?
SOLDIER: Can I get a transfer to the RAF?
SARGE: Ask over there by that Apache Attack Helicopter.
SOLDIER: Sarge? That’s an ice cream van.
SARGE: K-poo, k-poo, p-yowng, (FADE)
SFX: TEDDY BEAR’S PICNIC.
There’s a scene in Cross of Iron where James Coburn’s character, Sgt Steiner, is having a final showdown with his weasely commanding officer, Captain Stransky, played by Maximmilian Schell.
The film is set on the Eastern Front during the Russian counter offensive in 1943.
What has all this got to do with advertising, I hear you ask.
All Captain Stransky wants is an Iron Cross, (Germany’s equivalent of our Victoria Cross or America’s Purple Heart), but he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty getting it.
In fact, he’ll do pretty much anything to make sure he doesn’t have to face the enemy himself.
Including betraying his own men.
Steiner, the archetypal hero, who’d do anything for his men and has faced more bullets than a Mexican firing squad pole, informs him that you can’t just expect to get a medal for turning up. You have to go out there and do something above and beyond the call of duty.
The same should be said about awards.
At one particular advertising awards that I was honoured to be judging, I couldn’t help but notice that rather a lot of “good work” was getting through to the next stage of the competition.
My problem with this was – isn’t “Good Work” what we should be doing as a matter of course?
Surely, producing “good”, or even “very good” work is just having a good day at the office.
To warrant getting a medal it needs to be OUTFUCKINGSTANDING.
To have done something extraordinary. Something that no mere mortal could possible dream of aspiring to. (Even though we do.)
It needs to be valuable. It needs currency.
And achieving that is difficult. Very difficult. For everyone. That’s why it takes hard work, determination, diligence and most of all, desire.
I don’t believe that the best creative people do the best creative work.
I believe the most determined do.
Filed under Advertising, Art, Books, Cross of Iron, Design, Film, Ideas, Inspiration, Literature, Photography, Poetry, Radio, Screenplays, Short stories, Writing
We have 3D cinema, we’re about to get world cup matches in 3D this summer, so what about 3D radio? A few years ago, Colin Murphy and I did this press ad for a radio production company in Dublin called Reelgood Studios. The idea was simple: On radio, you’re not restricted by what you can do. If you want the universe to explode but you only have €100 to spend on SFX, then you can. Considering how creatively flexible the medium is, I’m constantly surprised by how rarely it is used to great effect. Probably the best example of it being used brilliantly would be The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
But it doesn’t have to be Sci-Fi to utilise the medium to dramatic effect, Milton Jones’ sketch show on BBC Radio 4 takes us back and forth in time on far flung adventures that would need a budget the size of our national deficit if it were to be produced on TV.
Credits:
Agency: Owens DDB
Concept: Colin Murphy, David Milligan-Croft
Copywriter: Colin Murphy
Art Director: David Milligan-Croft
Client: Reelgood Studios
Filed under Advertising, Comedy, Ideas, Radio, Writing
You couldn’t make it up. I wrote this radio sketch after a certain budget airline charged me for checking in at a check-in desk rather than checking in online. Subsequently, they have touted the idea of charging people to go to the loo. (Probably just a good PR stunt on the CEO’s part in all reality.) Anyway, here it is…
BUMS ON SEATS
FX: TANNOY BING BONG.
STEWARDESS: (D) Welcome on board flight RF652 from London Heathrow Dublin. In a few moments we’ll be passing through the cabin with refreshments.
PASSENGER: Excuse me, Miss. Can I get a copy of the in-flight magazine.
STEWARDESS: Certainly, Sir. That’ll be two pounds fifty.
PASSENGER: Excuse me?
STEWARDESS: Two pounds fifty.
PASSENGER: You want to charge me for the in-flight magazine?
STEWARDESS: Do you usually get your magazines for free?
PASSENGER: No, but it’s not the same, is it? I mean, it’s not really a magazine. It’s more of a catalogue for perfume, booze and fags.
STEWARDESS: Do you want it or not?
PASSENGER: No thanks, I’d rather read my book.
FX: SEAT BELT UNBUCKLING.
STEWARDESS: Sit down please, Sir.
PASSENGER: Just getting my book from the overhead locker.
STEWARDESS: It’s twelve pounds to use the overhead bins.
PASSENGER: I thought it was included in the fare.
STEWARDESS: No. Your fare is for the seat. Not the seat and the bin. The bin is extra.
PASSENGER: I’ll put the bag on my knee.
STEWARDESS: You can’t. It’s against aviation law.
PASSENGER How about under the seat in front of me.
STEWARDESS: That’s a fiver.
PASSENGER: That’s… reasonable. What if I want to use the bathroom?
STEWARDESS: Two quid.
PASSENGER: And the reading light?
STEWARDESS: A pound.
PASSENGER: The air vent thingy.
STEWARDESS: That’s a pound as well.
PASSENGER: What happens in the event of a crash?
STEWARDESS: Oxygen masks are two hundred and a life jacket is five hundred.
PASSENGER: What are the chances of us having to make an emergency landing?
STEWARDESS: Pretty high, I’d say.
PASSENGER: In that case, I’ll take one of each.
STEWARDESS: Wise decision, Sir.
PASSENGER: Do you take visa?
STEWARDESS: There’s a 25% service charge for credit cards.
PASSENGER: Debit card?
STEWARDESS: 50%.
PASSENGER: That’s quite a lot.
STEWARDESS: Look, do you want the life vest or not? We’ve only got seven.
PASSENGER: Seven! But there must be two hundred people on this plane.
STEWARDESS: Have you read Catch 22?
PASSENGER: Should I have?
STEWARDESS: It would explain a few things. So… one oxygen mask. Do you want oxygen with that?
PASSENGER: How much?
STEWARDESS: Fifty.
PASSENGER: What else do you have?
STEWARDESS: Helium. It’s great for the screaming.
FX: TANNOY BING BONG.
CAPT: Cabin crew… hic… to seats.
David Milligan-Croft
