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IPMS-UK
National Championships 1999 - An alternative view!
The
following report from the Nationals was written by my fiancée Anne, after a
long weekend that would have tried the patience of most non-model making people.
We did come away with some of the old Airfix Bird models though, so we might
convert her yet :o)
BTW
- References to the purchase of a "plastic
need" refers to the Trumpeter MiG 15, and 'fellow modeller' to
John
Wilkes - so I'm sure you'll all understand!!!
Iain
Over
to Anne...
Half
past five, half past five in the morning and I tried hard to think of good
reasons I had agreed to this, as I climbed, bleary-eyed, into the car. Its a
partner thing; its the give and take of relationships; he’d owe me big time,
yep, that was the thought that would keep me content, for the next few hours at
least. The slightest mention of "but I came to the Nationals with you - for
a whole weekend" and he’d be like putty in my hands for the next few
weeks whenever I needed something doing, like completing the redecoration of my
house, moving the furniture, clearing the shed out, and even helping out at my
Guide Unit. Yes, I thought, this weekend could be worth it.
We
collected a fellow modeler, as excited about it all as mine. (I was reminded
distinctly of three year olds going to a party.) His models were loaded into the
car and we set off up to the motorway, arriving at Telford at 7.30 am. Several
unloading trips later and we were in, but were by no means the first! Aside from
traders setting up their stands, other keen competitors were setting out their
entries for the National Championship, and clubs were setting up their stands,
and it wasn’t even breakfast time.
Entries
set up and models set out for the club displays and my two were raring to go -
cheque books at the ready - on the hunt for the elusive, the rare and the
generally unobtainable (at least that’s what I was told when I innocently
queried why they were planning to part with so much cash over the weekend!)
Hannants were there setting up for business so off we shot, to pay for
pre-ordered goodies (and they don’t have to be included in the weekend’s
"toy budget" because they were "bought" beforehand and just
being collected here!) Multiple boxes were exchanged for an undisclosed sum -
but it’s a bargain, honest - and then we were off again, to see if a promised
piece of plastic was at the show. The trader wasn’t there when we arrived but
a likely looking box was, so minutes were spent pondering if "they"
were in there. Reluctantly we left the box, when it became obvious that its
owner wasn’t going to appear imminently. So we perused the other stands in the
Hall, back on the eternal hunt.
"So
how many of the models you bought here last year have you made?" An
innocent question to the outsider perhaps, but not to the ears of a serious
modeller. The excuses come thick and fast ... limited editions and discontinued
stock which he’d never planned to build that year, but would need in the
future, lack of time, lack of space, missing the vital ingredient which might be
here today. Obviously a touchy subject.
Anyway,
off we went again, stall after stall being inspected, with frequent glances to
the far corner to check if the owner of the current "plastic need" had
resurfaced. And then it happened; he arrived and my other half was gone, like a
greyhound out of a trap. I followed at a more leisurely pace to find a
discussion of the whereabouts of promised plastic, how many and exactly which
versions had been brought into the country. Twenty, just twenty in the whole
country and he wanted one. Could he get one now, could he, could he? It was just
like standing beside a six year old wanting to try out his new big bike for the
first time. Yes, he could have one, but he’d have to be patient. They weren’t
unpacked yet, but one would be set aside. Unsatisfied, but temporarily
mollified, we went back to our stand perusal, until he could no longer contain
his frustration at being thwarted from his objective, and back we went. Were
they ready yet? What a relief to all of us, my other half, the trader and me,
when he could finally part with cash in exchange for a few bits of plastic in a
cardboard box, and the show hadn’t even opened!
How
many of these boxes were still available when 10 o’clock came round I have no
idea, but if my partner and his friends were anything like the norm, I think the
answer was very few. For the rest of the weekend, he was telling anyone and
everyone that he was the proud owner of one of the coveted few.
As
the morning went on, the halls quickly filled with modeling enthusiasts - a very
polite, well-mannered group, and anyone who was there and thinks differently
should try one of my craft shows. Shin pads and rib protectors should be
supplied as standard with your ticket at some of the events I attend. My other
half goes in fear of his life and ends up battered and bruised by impatient
ladies determined to get to the bargains and oblivious of what or who may be in
their path.
After
lunch came the judging of the competitions. My other half and his friend, our
fellow traveling companion, were two of the judges, and quickly co-opted me to
do their number crunching, so for the next three hours we scrutinised model
after model, deliberating over the hours of hard work which had gone into so
many items. The difficult job of choosing winners over and they were both ready
for a beer in the members’ lounge.
You
wouldn’t have known what time the show closed by the numbers of people in the
halls, I certainly didn’t. The first I realised that perhaps the day had come
to an end was the subtle hint of the overhead lights being turned out. The day’s
goodies were stacked in the car, good job we have a big boot, and off we went,
back to reality, food and a bed.
Sunday
morning, and I exacted my revenge. By 9.30 am we were in Ironbridge waiting for
a craft shop to open. While he sat on the steps between the floors in the shop
in “bewildered male dragged into shop” mode, I spent a happy hour stocking
up on items for a Christmas project, and digging in the bargain bin. If items
are going to be made into Christmas presents, they don’t really count in the
final bill, so I didn’t spend that much really, honest.
By
11 o’clock we were back in Telford, still needing to pick up a few paints and
other bits and bobs. How many times have I heard that one? And why do I never
believe it? Perhaps because of the sheer number of items we had to get home!
We
spent part of the afternoon taking pictures, leastways he took the pictures and
I followed him making notes. “What was that plane called again, dear?” Why
they can’t all have proper names I don’t know, how’s a person supposed to
remember a series of numbers and letters, and write them down in the correct
order anyway.
Late
in the afternoon came the inevitable. We had to pack the car, as we had to get
it all home somehow. Careful jiggling and manipulation of packets and boxes and
we were packed, another year over. Promises made about models going to be built,
inspiration gained to start new projects, vital bits and pieces bought, more
money than budgeted for spent, new friends made, old friends brought up to date
with news and views ... and next year to look forward to.
Anne |
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