The Gladstonbury Festival

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Well, the Gladstonbury Festival came at last on Sunday and what a day it was! Rides, amusements, cultural displays, bands and a selection of home-grown and imported nutters, wandering aimlessly and randomly shouting at people.

I had a busy day that day, what with the washing up and the ironing, but I did manage to canter past and how it warmed my heart to view the happy throng! Hundreds of happy faces, basking in the sunshine and in the light of their own communion.

“Lovely day, dear!” said the old duck from Chichele Mansions.

“Beautiful!” I replied, “and so wonderful to see you!” I reached out and grasped her hands warmly.

She obviously felt the strength of the sharing which, I believe, in Gladstone Park is more intense than in any other place in England. Scientists attribute this to the presence of the Pleasure Gardens which imbue the surrounding playgrounds with that indefinable sexual spark. Feeling overwhelmed, she hurried away to a place of solitude where she could reflect on the moment.

Mr Jones, despite his forty years in boiler making, I’ve always considered to be a kindred sensitive soul and so I was not surprised when he sought time for reflection almost immediately upon seeing me, so strong was the shared energy in the Park that day.

These are the things which can be found and enjoyed in the hearts of our fellow travellers at Cricklewood – no time more strong than during Gladstonbury and at no place more intense than Gladstone Park.

Apparently, there is another festival held elsewhere in the country which has been named after Gladstonbury. I took a moment from drinking in the communion of souls to survey those at the Cricklewood festival on how they felt about this development. Here are some of the things they had to say:

“Glastonbury? Never heard of it. You sure someone hasn’t just made a mistake and said it wrong?” Jim 48, Cricklewood Lane

“I don’t know about that, love. People are always wanting to mess about with things that work. I’ve been coming to this festival for nigh on five years and I’m not changing now.” Dot 75, Willesden High Road

“If they want another festival, let them have one. Not everyone can afford to travel up to Cricklewood. Especially country folk. Live and let live I say. We can still have ours here.” Barry from Barry’s Cricklewood Electrical.

“Piss off!” Shelly 30ish, address unknown.

For this correspondent’s part, I am glad that the warmth and love that we feel at this time of year can flow from Gladstone Park in Cricklewood to Willesden, Dollis Hill, Brent Cross and West Hampstead. And if what we do in NW2 can bring joy to the lives of those as far afield as Somerset then so much the better. We in Cricklewood have always believed in joy and sharing… and the special secrets only we can know of the Pleasure Gardens in Gladstone Park.