Drew Struzan might not have been a household name, certainly in comparison with Robert Redford and Diane Keaton, most recently featured here... but even if you don't recognise the name, I can guarantee you will know his work.
Struzan was surely the leading movie poster artist of his generation, and many of his designs are arguably even more famous than the films they promoted. In fact, Steven Spielberg once remarked (about his "favourite movie artist") that “I had to almost live up to the art that we later were going to ask Drew to create for the poster.” It could probably be argued that certain film-makers were unable to live up to that promise, and the best thing about some of those flicks was the poster promoting it.
Below is the one I had on my bedroom wall. Why the poster for the sequel, rather than the original movie? Because I wanted both Marty and the Doc done by Mr. Struzan, not just Michael J. Fox on his own.
French actress Catherine Deneuve welcomes you to ten songs with French titles. She will provide the translations, since I gave up French in the Third Year...
Last week, Sam and I had a few days away in North Yorkshire, staying in a Travelodge near York, and visiting Fountain's Abbey (above), The Forbidden Corner (highlight of the trip), The National Railway Museum, Jorvik Centre and a few other places of interest. It was a great boys' holiday and the weather held up most of the time. All good, all good. But being the Cnut I am, I couldn't help but get wound up by a few things...
The first I'll mention is when we stopped for tea on Wednesday afternoon at an upmarket burger chain. Luckily we'd booked a table, because it seems in the post-Covid world, you're out of luck if you try to turn up without a booking. A number of people were turned away without one, despite a fair few empty tables.
The last time we went to York was exactly two years earlier, and back in that wonderful pre-Covid age, we didn't pre-book anything. We maybe had to queue a little, but we got into whatever we wanted. This time: no booking, no joy. The most ridiculous example of this was at the Railway Museum where we had pre-booked our visit... but then were told we would also have to pre-book a place on the kids' mini train ride. When we went to the booking desk to do this, we were told they didn't have any free rides for the next three hours. By which time we were pre-booked at our next attraction. It won't be long before we'll have to book to use the toilet... and with advancing years, that'll be a lot of bookings.
But back to the burger restaurant, where we had a pretty good meal... until it came time to pay and I reached for my wallet... only for the waitress to stare in horror at the £20 notes I tried to pull out.
"Oh no! I'm very sorry," she spluttered, "but we're card only. (Insert name of chain here, or just say The Establishment) don't take cash anymore. We are a cashless restaurant."
And here I am, shouting at the sea. The last two years has fast-tracked us into a cashless economy, but call me old-fashioned... I like the paper folding stuff. I like to have some note in my wallet and not pay for everything on card. I like the choice. But now that choice is being taken away from us. And the thing that winds me up the most about this is that there was no warning. No signs, as you'd get in a sandwich shop that didn't have a card machine, so identified themselves from the moment you walked in as a "Cash Only" shop. The expectation that I would pay on card - and that I would be able to - was never in question. But what if I hadn't been able to? What if I didn't have my card on me, or there was nothing left in my account, or I'd cut up my credit cards to stop me spending what I didn't have? Would they still have refused my cash then? It's still legal tender, isn't it? Do they have the right to make that choice for me?
I already feel like this column is in danger of making me sound like an angry Daily Mail reader, but this wasn't the only time this happened during our break. Another establishment also refused to accept payment via a £20 note. "I can't take them any more," the lad behind the counter told me, "I got in trouble the last time I did... have you got anything smaller?"
I'll leave it to the conspiracy theorists to tell you why They don't want us to have cash any more. Me, I'm just lamenting the passing of the old ways. We lose a little more of them every day.
Caught a bit of Cerys Matthews on 6music on Sunday morning and in the studio she had the above band, 77:78, the new side-project from a couple of members of The Bees. What you'd expect from those guys, definitely worth a listen.
All of which brings us to Number 77 on the Hot 100 Countdown, and my desperate attempt to avoid songs about the year 1977... if at all possible. Always open to year-based suggestions though, and Charity Chic kicked off last week with a belter...
(Personal bugbear: if you're going to write a song with the word seven in the title, you should henceforth be forbidden from rhyming it with the word heaven. Hard not to though, I guess.)
CC also gave worthy honourable mentions to a couple of great albums - 77 by The Talking Heads and 1977 by Ash.
Next up was The Swede, who offered a raft of great suggestions that sadly don't yet live in my record collection, starting with...
...although it does commit the above-mentioned rhyme crime... then again, that's the least of Marc Bolan's crimes against rhymes, something I've discussed here before and given him a pass over. This is a great track though, and sadly, as both TS & RD point out, it was the last T-Rex single released in Bolan's lifetime.
...which is about someone who was born in the queen's silver jubilee year. There was a time this would have been in serious contention, but I'm going through a phase where I can't listen to any of Damon's Cockney Geezer songs without grinding my teeth to the gums. I'm sure I'll get over it.
Alyson win's this week's booby prize though with her suggestion...
...but it's not so much a song as just Prince mucking about in the studio for 3 minutes. Admittedly, that's more interesting than a lot of people mucking about in the studio for 3 minutes, but still not winner-worthy.
All of which leads us to this week's almost-winner, which was suggested by Jim Dubai (not quite sure if you're from Dubai or just Dubai Jim: enquiring minds need to know, Jim!)…
This was my first choice this week, mainly because I try to automatically rule out year songs by not searching for anything with a 19-- in front of the number. However, on reflection, this is almost certainly a year song because it has that apostrophe in front of the sevens. Which means that I had to consider whether or not - much as I like it - I really thought it was a better song than The Clash. OK, it doesn't rhyme seven with heaven, but... but...
No, if I'm going to break the year rules this week, I'm gonna have to give it to (as CC puts it) "the only band that matters"... I mean, come on, it's only one minute thirty eight seconds long, but it does everything it has to in that time, and more.
76 next week, folks. The one you've all been waiting for. Except...
No trombones allowed!
There may be another year song in contention though... unless someone can persuade me of a better idea.
Always a good idea to take the lens cap off before you take a picture, Eric.
What a Strange Brew there was in this week's pile of Snapshots. Well done for guessing them - you all did Wonderful Tonight (well, yesterday morning). By my reckoning, it was a dead heat between Lynchie and Alyson this week, with 3 points each... though I'm tempted to award the tie-breaker to Lynchie for his amazing claim to fame at being the first journalist to ever write about The Sutherland Brothers & Quiver. (And that is why you ought to have your own blog, Lynchie.)
10. Rabbits in discount top hats for lil' Jeff and Bev.
Pulling a rabbit from a discount top hat would be a Cheap Trick.
Jeff Lynne & Bev Bevan were founding members of ELO.
