How Deep?

Tonight Matthew I'm going to be Chris Tarrant, a Stormtrooper, a Pirate and CW Stoneking

2010-11-30T22:44:00.000Z

CAMBRIDGE FESTIVAL

AN UNHAPPY PIRATE PATRICK

NO IT'S NOT ANYA ON THE RIGHT

DRUNK ME A CAMBRIDGE

A DRUNK ME IN EDGEBASTON

EYE EYE

ON TOP ON THE STREAM

SIBLING BRIBERY

HAPPY EU

When I grow up I want to be a fireman

2010-11-30T22:33:00.000Z

Looking at my blog for the first time in ages and I have realised that I haven't been on here since the summer. The real reason for this is because of the photo above. I seem to have spent a most of this year sat on airplanes. Whilst some would say the jet set lifestyle is one to envy, I don't agree and think that the only real reason anyone should every fly is when they go on holiday. We certainly shouldn't be flying as much as we do because it's generally unnecessary, bad for the environment, dangerous, uncomfortable (unless you are in business or 1st class) and quite unhealthy. If I had to list all my flights for this and how productive or useful all the travelling actually was, I think that this year has been quite unproductive and stressful.

The best thing about flying is the view out of the window when you can see the earth below. Although let's be honest after 5 minutes above the clouds, it all - Seen one cloud, seen them all.

The best aspect of travelling anywhere in the world is getting there and experiencing the things you see and the people you meet. This has to be the case.

If Michael Palin had travelled around the world in 80 days and seen nothing or no-one of interest I am sure the BBC wouldn't of given him another 20 years worth of travel programmes to star in. I am lucky I have seen a lot of interesting things, and spoken to people who were interesting and funny. But in reality when I am travelling the globe most of my time is spent travelling (airports, planes, taxis and hotels) and not actually being there and seeing things.

Ok, ok, I have been fortunate to see some very interesting hotel rooms, eat some very nice food and drink some very expensive wines. Some would say I have had a little too much of the last two. I have also been fortunate enough to meet some very boring people, talk endless mundane small talk over and over again, and pretend to be interested in people who aren't interested in me either. When I arrive at any hotel in the world the three most important things are:

Does it have free Wifi
Does it have a good shower & vanity kit
Does it have tea and coffee facilities with lots of supplies

I don't care if it has a gym. I've never been in a hotel gym in my life. That probably says more about me than anyone else. I don't mind if it doesn't have tv, bath, herbal teabags, swimming pool, room service, atm, babysitting, business centre, gift shop, ice machine, chapel or safe. All I want to do is sleep (I have assumed that every hotel room has a bed), email, shower and drink a cuppa.

Due to the fact that they don't tend to build power stations in lovely locations, it is very rare that I actually travel anywhere that is distinctly beautiful. Genoa above was one of the exceptions. It is a fantastic city with great architecture, culture, food and friendly people. they even have a wall just of plates. How fantastic is that!

In reality the real reason that I am not enjoying travelling at the moment is that travelling is only fun when you can share the experience. I tend to travel alone, which is good for some people and probably good for me also. I get tired and grumpy when I travel, and even when I have travelled with other people for work, we mainly spend most of our time in separate hotel rooms on the email. Maybe it's not the travelling I hate, maybe it's the email. No I definitely hate the email.

But the most important thing about travelling alone is that issue of not being able to share the experiences. When you go on holiday you do it because you enjoy spending time with the people you are with and also because you have chosen the destination for the holiday.

Most of all when I am away I miss being at home.

Immodium, Ibuprofen and a flight to Cairo

2010-07-07T22:03:00.001+01:00

Below is a short review of the last 24 hours:

Arrived at the airport, running late and a bit hot and cold.
Checked in really easy at the desk then walked through to departures.
Choices. Choices. Beer, wines, sandwiches, hot meals, shopping and lots of people. Chose water and tablets.
Drink water ans take tablets.
By this time I had lots of emails to send, but honestly felt unable to be bothered.
Flight.
Late.
Food (no food).
Lots of watér.
Film (rubbish)
Landing (bumpy)
Visa (no money)
Cash machine for money
Visa (money hurray)
Baggage (one hour wait)
Taxi to hotel (seat belt but no buckle)
Hotel (check in)
Hotel (still checking in - asked if I wanted a double or twin. Decided on double, then pursueded to take a twin as it had a Nile view that is impossible to see)
Hotel (sleep)
Sleep (maximum 45 minutes at a time)
Wake up (every 45 minutes)
Dress
Meet Haleem and drive to Suez
Drive to suez (long drive - seat belt hurray)
Have meeting (4 hours)
Get dizzy and thirsty
Drive to Cairo (long drive)
Have tea (soup)
Back to hotel
Phone work (talk sternly to people)
Read (book)
Watch football (Espania 1-0)
Go to room (turn down aircon - too cold)
Try to do poo (No! immodium still working)
Go to sleep
Wake up
Phone call from Christof (painting the kitchen - her not me)
Write blog
More sleep.

Thank goodness for Blogger to allow me to record the most important records.

camping, sleep deprivation and oyster point - new jersey

2010-05-26T03:42:00.001+01:00

Last week my family and I went camping for the 1st time is around 3 or 4 years. We have had a tent for a long time, but the Kyham 8 berth has sat idle in the rafters of the garage for a long time. When we eventually lifted it down, we were pleasantly surprised that it was still in one piece and ready to be used. The real fear was that the garage mice had climbed into the roof and eaten the fabric, or worse, had babies (or little mice poos) in the tent fabric. None of the above seemed to have occurred so - believe that the garage is probably a mice free zone (MFZ as the cool kids call it).

So the big day arrived and the sun shone and shone all weekend long. I turned up in a field in Derbyshire (urghh) at 12 noon on Friday and met Martin who was mt fellow tent erector for the day. We had been thrown together by our weak wives, who felt the only way to get us to go camping was to offer us an afternoon without the kids and with a pub within 2 minutes. We put the tent up in an hour (easy) and then went onto the pub for a long lunch of sandwiches and pedigree. Aahh, beer on a sunny afternoon.

Later in the day the kids arrived and the tranquil adult beer fueled afternoon ended in the sound of hyped up kids. It was great fun and we all had a really good Friday night. Everyone went to bed too late and everyone had too little sleep. We all woke up too early on Saturday, cranky, tired, hung over and hungry. We all enjoyed the Saturday, the highlight of which was the row boat ride on Carsington Water.

The rest of Saturday was spent water fighting 5 year olds and having a great time. I think we all need to grow down a bit.

Saturday night was much more tranquil and full of middle aged people trying to pretend they were not over tired. We were all over tired and eventually went to bed early.

Sunday morning we all got up too early again due to the strong sunshine burning the tent before 7am. The smell of bacon in the air was strong and lasting. We had croissants, tea and theb I managed a bunch of kids to punch rockets in the air. Bliss.

Sunday afternoon and we all got home, tired, emotional and in need of some. TV. Especially the kids.

I enjoyed the weekend and hope that we can go camping again, as long as the sunshines and we have a friend to put the tent up.

Check and go

2010-03-25T07:16:00.000Z

I was in egypt all last week for the regular visit to the usual clients and subcontractors. I stayed in Cairo for 3 nights at the ever predictable Ramsis Hilton and then for 1 night in Alexandria at the Windsor Hotel. The Windsor has the worst breakfast buffet I have ever experienced. Whilst the quantity of food laid out is plentiful, the quality and hygiene leaves my stomach in a state. Last week for breakfast I mainly ate lots of bread, although I did push the boat out on Friday and sampled a boiled egg.

Anyway, one airport is much like another and this morning I was up at 540am to travel to Birmingham Airport for an early flight to Dublin. What a difference though to my last flight to Dublin 2 weeks ago. Last time I flew from Liverpool at 620am, which meant I had to leave home at 420am. When I got to the airport at 520am the bar was full of people drinking beer. AT 520AM! Curse you Liverpudlians! But in reality most were Irish Manchester United fans who hadn't been to bed after the game the previous evening. This morning at Birmingham things are a lot more refined. Costa is making the money today, whilst the bar is empty.

The flight is due to board any second, and there are lots of people milling around the announcement board waiting for the gate number. Whilst waiting for the gate a woman on a phone started to have a very heated discussion with her son telling him to get up for school. 'Kieren, it's 720am. It's time to get up for school' she shouted. Most people ignored her, but she continued to shout at her lazy son to tell him to get out of his bed because he was late for school. Now I don't know which school he went to or how old he was, but I clearly remember getting out of bed as late as was physically possible in order to make it to school, partially dressed and nearly awake. Maybe kids have changed in the last 20 years or so, but I'm sure they are as lazy as ever. And if they are not then I am disappointed.

Gate J has now opened and more cueing and bunching has started. Thank goodness for ipods.

Heroes

2010-03-16T19:18:00.000Z

I slept badly last night. One of those nights when you wake up every hour or so, not really knowing why and then find it hard to get back to sleep. Only when you do get back to sleep you wake up again pretty soon afterwards.

In addition to not sleeping well, I also didn't go to sleep till midnight UK time, which is 2am local African time. Then I was up early, feeling dehydrated (air con I think) and not at all hungry for breakfast.

I made it down to the lobby of the hotel only a few minutes late, and then had to wait for my Egyptian client who was running a lot later than me. In reality my Egyptian client was running around 4 hours late, but I was met an hour later by Mohamed, the young engineer who had been sent to pacify me and fill the intervening few hours with a tour of Cairo (hurrah, just what I wanted) and a lunch of KFC (without the C) and Costa Coffee, which is a new popular thing in these parts.

On the positive side I did manage to finish my Chris Evans autobiography. I actually enjoyed reading it, a bit rushed in parts and lacking on gossip, it was pitched right I think. Read on twitter recently he is finishing off the next book, which will start when he bought Virgin Radio.

After finishing the book, I attended a couple of meetings and made lots of promises to do things which will be difficult given the timescales. But today (unusually for me) I was in no mood to argue. Lack of sleep I think.

The wifi in my room does not work, so I have no access to my laptop. This is a good thing as I have enough emails on my blackberry to keep me going. But I know that by the end of the week I will be inundated with filing and backlog. Hey ho, how did we manage before all this technology.

My next book is called The Lunar Men and I am hoping to finish it a little quicker than the Chris Evans book which took me 3 months, although probably only a few days of actual reading. Most probably spend too much time reading blogs and tweets.

On the subject of heroes, not mine by the way. I watched about 30 minutes of the Michael Jackson movie 'This is it' on the plane last night. Why? Not sure. But man it was awful. Awful and sad at the same time. My over riding memory is that he was terribly thin and had awful dress sense. Unfortunately I only posses one of these traits, and whilst we could all do with losing a few pounds I get the feeling that he was not in the best condition to launch a worldwide tour.

Tomorrow I am going to Ain Soukhna and then to Giza. At least the humous is good.

Terminal 3 (spell check version)

2010-03-15T21:22:00.000Z

It is 1130pm and I am sat in a taxi speeding along an elevated highway which runs around the city of Cairo.

Cairo is one of the worlds biggest and growing cities. Look it up. It's massive.

Tonight; like any traveller; I am here and tomorrow I will be back on a plane to the UK. I think the point I want to make is that middle aged men don't really want to travel. Most would much rather be at home in their own bedroom and being woke up by their usual noises of kids or dogs, or alarm clocks and a cup of tea.

You can't really (in my experience) drink tea in Egypt as they only have condensed milk. It's not good.

So, for all of you worldly travellers I bid hello. For all of you home lovers I bid masalam.

Good luck to you all, except the one's in Cairo. As it is too hot and the lifts are rubbish.

Website Suggestions #1

2010-03-08T22:21:00.000Z

running from camera (2 seconds)

The rules are simple:
I put the self-timer on 2 seconds, push the button and try to get as far from the camera as I can.
If you would like to see the full set of photos from this absolute genius click here .

I challange everyone to do their own twist on this idea of leaving the timer on the camera for two seconds and then do the same thing over and over again.

If only I had a camera to capture my bottom gaffs.

Blackberry Blogging on the sofa

2010-03-07T19:49:00.000Z

I am trying out the life changing experience that is mobile blogging. I am currently sat on the sofa watching Antiques Roadshow and also typing this out at the same time. Who said men can't multi-task? Probably some bloke, as women's opinions are never given the oxygen of publicity and respect. Ofcourse I am joking..... Or am I?

No I am joking. Or atleast trying to.

Anyhow, back to the sofa blogging. It isn't quite as easy as conventional blogging, but mainly due to the fact that the keys on my blackberry are very small and my fat thumbs (who has thin thumbs?) haven't managed to be filed down into a point yet. Come on evolution, sort it out!!

The main dissadvantage of mobile blogging is that there are no photos or spell checks. Nevermind eh?

Say Cheese

2010-03-07T19:24:00.000Z

After too many months of dormancy I am finally going to give my bogging life another go.

I have been shamed into this by the constant high quality entries by my wife, and also by recognising the benefit that you get by sitting down for 10 minutes a day and registering your recent thoughts and experiences. I also have been spending more and more time reading other peoples blog, so it must be the thing to do............

As the title of this entry suggests, I am re-entering the blogging world with small steps only. Above is my favourite photos of the day.

Favourite quote of the week is:

"You can have a threesome if you need it" - Band Leader from SteamChicken

Favourite dance move of the week is:

The Gypsy

I hate lifts (sorry elevators)

2009-12-08T21:25:00.000Z

I wish that someone would try and dabble inside my brain. A lot of people would say that there is not a lot in there, but I think that maybe some times I am shut to the outside world and that my brain is still active. I hope that is the case anyway.

Let's be honest, even some of Paul McKennas friends are fat, smoking, kangaroo eating weirdos.

Ok, the thing I want to mention is lifts. British lifts. Not elevators, they are lifts.

I hate lifts.

People ignore each other, and don't even talk. How crazy is that? It spans the multi-cultural expanse of life. Put a Budhist, an American, an African and a Chinese man (or woman) in a lift and they will still ignore each other for the period of acsending or descending. It's completely mad.

Well I've had enough. I would like to ban lifts. Take the stairs. Except for disabled people. But I expect they would probably ignore each other too.

Damn those lifts!

Around the world in 80 days with 2 pairs of socks

2009-12-06T17:25:00.000Z

The world of the international traveller is a lonely one. Over the last couple of weeks I seem to have been away from home a lot. And whilst people may dream of the jet setting liftsyle, and seeing the world at someone elses expense, in reality it is early mornings, grotty airports, flying next to people who smell (and snore and use your arm rest), poor quality (but high quantity) food, faceless hotels, dirty hotel bathrooms and dodgy wifi.

Ok, I don't want to lay it on too thick, but I'm not really enjoying travelling at the moment. Some of the enjoyment of travelling (as with everything else in life) disappears over time. It's natural and I understand that. Most of all though, I think that I am not enjoying travelling as I know that my family are growing up at home and I am not there. A little soppy I know, but even us blokes get a bit hormonal every now and again. Thankfully Christof is pretty good with her blog, so I catch up with family life and photos on the internet. When I can get a wifi signal that is.

Anyhow, I am currently in Egypt for the umteenth time in the last few years, so for me it's nothing special. As it is early December the weather here isn't anything to write home about. This evening it is raining, windy and a bit chilly. On the plus side, my hotel room windows nearly shut, so most of the weather is staying outside. The hotel I am staying at in Alexandria is actually quite nice and full of historic character. It was built in 1906, is called the Windsor Palace and has rooms named after the British Royal Family. Later I might go for a pint in the Prince Charles bar, or maybe have a meal in the Queen Elizabeth restaurant, and maybe finish the night off in the Prince Albert gym. Or maybe not. The room is OK, although I hate beds without duvets, as I just can't convince myself that the bed spread is new for every visitor.

In order to give a lasting record of my view of travelling and Egypt especially, I have looked on the internet and downloaded some photos which represent the parts of Egypt that I get to see with my job. I can confirm that I have borrowed most of the photos from Boots In The Oven for which I whole heartedly thank them for, even though they don't know it. I wish to make it clear that this is of course a slightly biased view of Egypt, but in reality it purely demonstrates that I have not been fortunate to experience the other side of Egypt which I am sure is beautiful and exists somewhere outside the realms of my routine business trips. I really believe that there is a part of Egypt that is tranquil and clean, beautiful and full of relaxed people ready to lend a hand, not chop it off. OK, lets get into it before I get accused of being too bitter.

P1 - Egypt By Air

P2 - Cairo View From Mosque

P3 - Cairo Street

P4 - Cairo Street 2 (The Return)

P5 - Cairo Street 3 (Honey I sold the Donkey - to some Kids)

P6 - Cairo Traffic P7 - Egyptian Museum (with the Hilton Ramsis hotel I normally stay at in the background, just off the October ther 6th Street)

P8 - I am Sailing

P9 - The Real Pyramids

P10 - Windsor Palace (don't be fooled by the photo)

P11 - A Stoning (Are there any women here today?)

Bucks with Granny in August 2005, Anya in Belgium 2006 and Euan in a Tube in 2009

Man Alive!

2009-10-02T20:27:00.000+01:00

Another strange but very quick week. Since last weekend I have slept 7 times, had some quite vivid dreams (for a change) but I am struggling to remember what happened during the days. Let me think....

Saturday - Tried to have a lie in, quite successfully if I may add. The secret to it in my house; I think; is to look like you are actually getting up and out of bed, but just do it very very slowly over the period of about 3 hours. When you have kids and a hard working wife who needs a lie in just as much as you, you'll understand. The 16 year old me would be quite disgusted looking at the nearly 36 year old me trying to secretly have a lie in. When you are 16 life is one big lie in and there's nothing to get up for part from maybe to change your crispy pyjamas.

Also went to the local wood flooring shop and signed our life away on some nice solid wood flooring for the front room, and some replacement flooring for the stinky bathroom carpets. Lunch at Old Mcdonalds Farm and back home for some more quality relaxing time and arguing with the kids. Watched Strictly Come Dancing (urrghghhhhhh!!) and then fell asleep in front of a DVD at about 11pm. Rock and Roll!

Sunday - Tried to have a lie in, quite successfully if I......Oh that was Saturday wasn't it. Sunday was another quite relaxed day. Rolled around the house in the morning with the kids. Had lunch and then we went swimming as a family in the afternoon which was good fun. Got back and the weather wasn't great so we watched a movie in the kids room. Fantastic 4 and the Silver Surfer - 2.5 out of 5 if I was a movie critic, which I am thankfully not. Kids had a dreaded bath, whilst Anya had a shower after much difficult negotiation. Took Ruby out for a walk early evening and then watched the Grand Prix highlights.

I fear I am boring myself with this review of the week, although I actually quite enjoyed living it at the time.

Anyhow Monday came, as Monday's do, and then it was straight back into work. Lot's to do, emails to read and file, phones to answers, purchase orders to authorise, tenders to calculate and produce, people to talk to, meetings to have. Yada yada yada yada. Work is fundamentally interesting for me when I am doing it, and I would actually go as far as to say it really motivates me, but the in's and out's of most peoples work lives is inherently boring to everyone else. There are obviously some exceptions, and I'm obviously thinking about strippers, judges and Gordon Ramsey. Unfortunately I am none of the above.

I went up to Middlesbrough on Thursday for meetings with clients and also to chair a sales meeting/management meeting. It's not the nicest place in the world, but most of the places I go with work aren't. I was tired when I got to the hotel about 7.30pm and I decided I would go to the bar for an hour or so, have a beer and read the new Dan Brown book. Dan Brown is an easy author to read and the novels from him previously have been quite enjoyable conspiracy type trash. I am not a literary critic either as you may notice. I spent most of the evening trying to get into the beginning of the book, but eventually gave up as I obviously wasn't in a reading mood. Even though some people wouldn't class Dan Brown as actual reading. So I rang my wife and had a chat about flooring again and also our terminally ill cat. The conversation wasn't that bad really, but it also went to places that would literally bring a tear to your eye, especially if you were a man. After saying goodbye to my ever slimmer (and lovely) wife, I decided to ring a friend I had not spoken to for a long time.............

I have rung this particular friend on many occasions over the last 4 years and the phone has never been answered. I have left texts and voice messages and still no reply or acknowledgement. Personally, I didn't phone this person because I particularly wanted to talk to them, it was just because I am very nosey and I had time on my hands and a free mobile phone. So, I rang the number and nobody answered. I left a message, a short message of HELLO and HOW ARE YOU?, then I had another call. It was the person I was leaving a message calling me BACK!

So I took he call. And the conversation went a bit like this:

HELLO (ME).

hello.

HOW ARE YOU?

ok.

OK? REALLY? WE HAVEN'T SPOKEN FOR AGES

oh, you know just the same

THE SAME? REALLY? IT'S BEEN 4 YEARS

yeah, you know just the same still doing the same type of work. still have the same house from the old days. still just the same. and you how's things with you?

ME? OK, WELL I'VE HAD ANOTHER BABY, WE'VE MOVED TO A MUCH BIGGER HOUSE IN THE COUNTRY, I'M A DIRECTOR OF THE FIRM I WORK FOR, I HAVE A VINTAGE SPORTS CAR IN THE GARAGE, I'M WORKING REALLY HARD, DOING LOTS OF TRAVEL BUT I'M ENJOYING MY LIFE.

that's good............................................ my god how did you get to be a director?

anyway, the conversation went on for some time and to be honest it was difficult because the reception was poor and I sort of lost interest after 5 minutes of the one way street of asking questions. I was constantly trying to pry information out of an old friend and they were constantly trying to deflect answering any type of prying questions. All I gained from a 20 minute call was that this person was still alive, still doing the same type of job (but in a different location), they had been unemployed for some time early thing year and they still didn't have a significant other (partner). I also learnt that this person and their friend (whom I also know) had fallen out with me and my mate Rich some time ago. But neither me or my mate Rich new anything about it. Bizarrio?

The call ended and I looked at my empty pint class, not knowing why I had phoned my old friend and knowing that I wanted another pint more than I wanted another call like that.

So I went to the bar and ordered another beer, looked at the Dan Brown book and then started to scroll through my contacts list on my phone for old friends I had not spoken to for a while.......

Curse you Dan Brown!

How many rolling-pins ?

2009-09-27T11:09:00.000+01:00

It has been a few weeks since I have put fingers to laptop for a blog entry. Whilst I have all the excuses needed for not getting around to it, it also feels difficult to get back into the swing of writing something that is interesting and that I am interested in.

With all that in mind, it's now nearly the end of September and another Autumn approaches. I actually quite like September, and whilst it is not my favourite month of he year, it is a good interesting month with lots happening. This month has certainly contained a lot of interesting happenings.

After we got back from our fun packed holiday in France, I was straight into dedicating 2 weeks of my life to Jury service. Out of the 2 weeks I had to make myself available I was only actually in attendance for 1 day. That was the first day when everyone had to attend and register for expenses etc. I arrived bang on time and was ushered into a room containing all my jury peers. there were around 40 people in total. We sat there like school children and had our names called out on the register and then we spent the rest of the morning giving in our expenses forms. Ofcourse there was lots of whispered complaining about everything happening too slowly, and that the food/drink expenses were not sufficient, but I suppose that's Human nature. After the morning of paperwork and form filling, things picked up in the afternoon. There were two trials presented in the afternoon, but I was not selected at random and missed out on both of them. I left the court early at around 4pm on the first day and was told to ring the phone line at 4.30pm to see if I was needed for the next day.

I dutifully rang the phone line everyday for the next week and a bit, but was never needed back. Quite unforfilling really, but at least it meant that I could attend all my work based commitments. Work based commitments such as having my phone stolen in Manchester, when I should of been in a court room in Stafford. Curse you justice!

Other interesting things that have happened this month include:

Patrick's 1st day at school

Cocktails in Stoke on a sunny Saturday afternoon with Chris

Seeing Dave Gorman in concert

Presenting at a Power & Lifting Seminar in London

Winning a bottle of champagne at a freight forwarders event (and having someone drink it for me)

Dad's 60th brithday

Visiting Co. Wexford for the day

Attending a black tie casino event

Missing out on a golf day, but still making the evening dinner and presentation

All in all it's been a pretty busy and tiring month. I'm not complaining about it, but I suppose it's down to all things in moderation. Whilst this month has been busy for me, there has also been the sad deaths of a number of famous and interesting people. Les Paul, Keith Floyd and Patrick Swayzee. Now that would be an interesting dinner party.

Looking forward to October and my 36th birthday

Manchester Blackberry Disaster 2009

2009-09-08T00:25:00.000+01:00

I spent most of today in Manchester looking at canals and road signs with very nice Japanese people. We had been looking at roads and bridges, ports and street furniture, all the stuff that a man in his mid thirties normally does for money on a Monday. Then this evening I was walking along Princess Street (which doesn’t exist – so I am lead to believe) to get some money from a cash machine, and I was as per usual, on my phone, talking to someone and idly passing the early evening away, not really paying attention to anything that was going on around me.

Suddenly a deft hand grabbed at the phone and snatched it out of my unsuspecting hand. It took a moment to register what had occurred. I'd been looking at my phone and then suddenly I was looking at my hand and my glasses which had been thrown to the ground in the struggle. Though to an alien race the human hand might be the more impressive gadget, to me my own human hand was a lot less interesting than a tiny machine that could take photos of my kids and keep me up to date with emails and texts from across the globe. Or even from my wife, whose number I do not know off by heart (sorry).

I looked up and saw that a man on a bicycle was quickly cycling away with my phone, the very phone that I had dropped countless time and that did not ring properly. But the same battered phone that had lots of photos of my kids on it and also countless other important things such as photos of canals and emails from work. .

Could he not have ripped out my heart and stolen that instead? It would have caused me less pain and consternation.

I suppose I reacted within a second though it felt like it took an age for any emotional or physical response. I was surprised and disgusted, I felt despondent and foolish. Most of all though I was aware that I was watching my phone disappear into the distance.

I made a vain attempt to chase after the perpetrator. But he was on a bike and had a head start and I was on foot and haven't been going to the gym. At all. To be fair I don't think I would have been fleet of foot enough to catch him had I been twenty years younger and being trained by Olympians.

I gave it a go though, my heart already bereft, my brain already cursing me for being so foolish. But it was early evening and there were loads of people around on their phones, talking drivel to their friends and even though I am aware that such things happen, it was unlikely that I could have anticipated it. I take very good care of my phone, almost to a paranoid degree and in fact never bother with insurance as I am so convinced of my own obsessive desire to protect it. But aside from always holding on to it with a iron grip and attaching it with unbreakable wire to my wrist (which would probably have caused me to lose a hand today) there is not much you can do to stop someone coming up from behind with speed and dexterity and just grabbing the thing from you.

I wasn't thinking about trying to get a description of the man and even if I had been I doubt I could come up with much. I had only really seen him once he'd gone past. I knew that he was on a black bike, dressed in black with a black hooded top. I didn’t notice the colour of his skin, and the racist me probably thought he was black, but in reality there was no way to know as I never saw his face or even the colour of his socks.

Anyway I was too shocked and too angry and already too deeply in mourning to try and get all Crimewatch on this. In any case my heavy heart knew that there was no way that I would be getting that phone back. All was lost. My phone was disappearing out of sight. If I believed in God I would have made a contract with him there and then that if he could strike down this robber and give me my phone back, I in turn would give Him my next child as recompense. How could he do this to me?
The bike was accelerating away and I was scratching around on the pavement; like Millhouse in the Simpsons; trying to pick up my glasses which were knocked off in the tussle. I wanted to cry “Stop him. Knock him off his bike! Stop that guy!" But all I heard were a few people comment that I the biked man had stolen my phone and no one would give me eye contact.

I ran for a few steps and then easily gave up, as the biked man cycled away and turned right up Clarence Street, and into the distance. His audacious and dastardly act had been a total success.
I felt sick, but had resigned myself to never seeing that phone again and decided to back to the hotel and try and ring the office to report the phone stolen. But it was 6.30pm and everyone in the office would be at home, or at the gym, so I just walked around for fifteen minutes and tried to piece together the last few minutes in my head. Whilst I may live in the heart of the country, I am not unaware of my surroundings, and actually this evening noticed the inordinate number of people haplessly wandering around the street texting on their phones. “Crazy fools” I thought as I walked down the street fully aware of my phone and talking to a friend at work.

I got back to the hotel and borrowed an identical looking phone from my work colleague and then headed out to make a few calls. The surprising thing was that after I got over the fact I had just been robbed in broad daylight by the ‘masked bike thief of old Princess Street (doesn’t exist by the way)’ the next emotion was one of being completely cut off from the outside world. I considered using a public phone for a second to phone home or the office, but quickly came to the conclusion that I didn’t have any cash and that I don’t know any numbers because they are all stored in the memory of my phone, not the memory of my brain. Damn you bike thief.

After phoning work and home, I decided to phone Greater Manchester Police and report the phone stolen. After being passed through a switchboard or two, a policeman took over the situation and asked me many questions about the incident. The policeman who had taken my initial details told me that that the crime would be followed up and CCTV footage would be checked and I'd get a call in a couple of days. Except I couldn't because I didn't have a phone and don't know my home phone number as I never use it. So I guess they'll email me.

I was also told that I would need to visit a local station and speak to an officer who would deal with the complaint. I have a feeling that this is a common crime in this part of the City, and they seemed to talk about it as if they were trying to do something to stop it.

Within minutes I had received another call to my new phone. It was a police woman asking for me. She explained that I didn’t have to go to the local station, and that I didn’t need to be inconvenienced by going to the local police station and that I would receive a call over the next few hours from an officer who would carry out a phone interview and issue me a Crime Number. This didn’t happen.

Later in the evening I saw the biked man again. I knew that this was a possibility, but I was really surprised by the fact that he cycled up to me with so much confidence. Although he was camouflaged and wore his hooded top down, had his trousers rolled up to his knees and was cycling slowly talking very loudly to himself in order to bring attention to himself. I looked at him a few times and even slightly doubted the few things I had thought I'd seen about him. I had only really seen him from the back. All I knew for sure was that I recognised the white stitching of his hooded top, with that being my only piece of definite information.

I couldn't say how tall he was, whether he was light or dark skinned, what his bike was like or even how old he was. Was he stocky or slim or athletic? I didn't know. All I knew was that he had my phone. Plus the little boy inside me was a bit excited by seeing him again. Although I felt humiliated to be defeated by this crafty stranger, I was already consoling myself with the fact that despite the inconvenience and the slight fear he might look through the contents of my phone and find my home phone number and ring him me up and tell me he had my phone. But was he really a fucking idiot (actually that would make it all worthwhile).

I feel the slightest amount of admiration for the man who has done this. It had been a skilful (!?) and risky manoeuvre. He plucked the phone from my grip like a bird diving into the sea, catching a fish and thumping me in the cheek. And there was the danger that he could have mistimed it or I could have held on too tight or managed to grab him or catch him or that someone might have sent him smashing to the ground.

If I looked at it objectively it would be hard to sympathise entirely with the ostentatious man parading around with his expensive gadget and not at least empathise with the dispossessed individual who likes a modern day Artful Dodger relieved him of some of the unfairly distributed wealth that he was displaying.

I have to admit that I was also wishing that I had caught him and pulled him off his bike, or that someone had invented an application for the phone in which you could cause it to explode by remote control, severely injuring the thief (and I now know that if you're on mobile me you can track the phone and remotely wipe its data, but that isn't enough, I wanted him to hurt). I replayed the scenario where I got the better of my nemesis and where I humiliated him the way that he had humiliated me.

So I am torn between woolly liberalism and Daily Mail style vindictiveness. I am fully aware that stealing is wrong, try telling this to the millions of illegal music downloading that goes on every single day. Whilst I understand this, I bet the Artic Monkeys never got hit in the cheek by the last 13 year old that illegally downloaded there new album and then rode off into the dark laughing. Who are the real thieves in this so called society? So maybe this is all just karma.

It had been an exciting and upsetting day. I am ultimately sad and a bit shaken by it all. It made me nervous and suspicious for the rest of the day. It's a shitty thing to do to someone, even though in my case I can cope with the loss. It's no excuse for people behaving in this way and it's horrible that it changed my view of the world, like an evil version of art.

Good news about the Bee Gees reforming though.

Sorry, Sorry Sorry

2009-09-04T21:57:00.000+01:00

The photo above says it all to be honest. If there was ever any doubt that Paul and Jacko were more than good friends then I think I have the evidence right there m'lud. Can you slander a dead person? Probably.

Anyhow, I am quite sorry, but I have just literally fallen over this awful Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney video (do we still call them that ?) on youtube.

this is Bad, and not in the MJ sense. This is really terrible. Start cringing now........

Say, Say, Say

What does it matter to you, when you've got a job to do you got to do it well.........

2009-09-04T20:45:00.000+01:00

In between the calamity in Paris and the car problems in Calais, it is important to remember that we had a great holiday in the South of France. The weather was pretty much blue sky perfect for the week, apart from a cloudy but warm Tuesday by the pool, followed by beers and pizza in the rain on Tuesday evening.

Luckily the downpour on Tuesday evening and the red wine paved the way for the rest of the week to return to normality of blue skies and 35 degrees. Perfect pool weather. If not a little hot for us lobster red British men.

A week on and as with all holidays the arguments and tantrums have pretty much all been forgotten and you are left with the happy memories and wealth of photos that you will probably never look at again, until maybe early December when you have to pull together the family calender for 2010. 2010? Really?

Below is a selection of my favourite photos of a really laid back holiday spent by the pool with good friends, lots of kids, and a couple of rogue pool poo's. I also wish to mention that it was the loose women that got told off for their drunken exploits (not the men), but that'll probably spoil it for everyone.....

live and let die

I am the real Quaid

2009-09-02T22:29:00.000+01:00

After 13 years of safe motoring (not including wheelie bins, or other stationary objects) I have finally been involved in that unfortunate event that is an RTA. But to really compound my many years of driving without incident, this crash just happened to take place in my favourite city of Paris, France. We were travelling through France on our way to the lovely Ardeche region, on the first day of our holiday. Luckily there was no harm done as the crash was relatively low speed, but from looking at the photos you could not tell this. The SMax crumpled up, whilst the robust Peugeot 407 that was driven into hardly had a scratch on it. No one was hurt and the kids continued watching their DVD not really knowing what the fuss was about.

Why were we in Paris? I have no idea, except that the satnav decided to have a spaz attack and send us through the centre of the 'Worst city in the WORLD for driving' on what it classified as the FASTEST route to our destination. How did it ever believe that driving through the centre of Paris would provide the fastest route to anywhere, except maybe Paris. And to be perfectly honest if I wanted to go to Paris I would probably choose to drive to somewhere close to Paris (like and airport) and then decide to go somewhere else. It's not that I don't like Paris, I just don't like driving on any of the roads in Paris, when there are perfectly good toll roads that can get you to you destination faster and also potentially safer. Chris commented whilst on holiday that I had quite a few 'blond hairs' popping up at the back of my head. I put these grey, sorry blond hairs solely down to driving in Paris for 8 hours.

What is so implausible and what I do not understand about this bizarre satnav event is that last year we programmed the satnav exactly the same to go to the same destination. And it sent us on what it felt was the FASTEST route via the toll roads, without going near lovely Paris. This year we enter the same destination and it navigates us to a completely different route.

To cut a very long story short, the car was undrivable after the crash and so we had to phone the AA 'International Rescue' and ask them to make lots of arrangements for us, so that we could continue our holiday. This involved the following:

Tow truck for SMax and me to recovery garage
Taxi for kids and Chris to recovery garage
Hire car at Gare de Lyon station (with the help of Paula at work)
Taxi for me to go from garage to Gare de Lyon station
NO hire car at Gare de Lyon station due to Europcar screwup. But they did kindly offer me a Nissan Micra for the family
New superdooper Hire car at Chales de Gaule Airport (honestly)
Taxi for me to go from Gare de Lyon station to CdG Airport
1 hour waiting around for the hire desk to confirm that they had a car, as yes it wasn't a Nissan Micra
VW Touran for 1 week to continue our journey to Ardeche region from Paris (hurrah!)

By this time it was around 7pm on Friday evening and we had spent 6 hours stationary because of the crash. We were well behind schedule and I wasn't sure whether my wife and three kids were alive still, and if they were, whether they were still talking to me as I'd left them with no money and not really spoken to them for 4 or 5 hours whilst i was trying to sort the mess out (and getting a little stressed). Luckily for me the AA had been helping out on this side also, by giving Chris regular updates on my progress around Paris trying to find the elusive MPV hirecar.

Luckily by 8pm or so we were the proud temporary owners of a VW Touran. A 7 seater MPV that would be our car and overnight accommodation for some of the holiday at least.

I actually picked he hire car up at CdG airport at 6.30pm, but due to another satnav disaster it sent me to the wrong part of Paris, when I was trying to navigate back to the garage to pick up the family and all our luggage. Damn you satnav, I am the real Quaid.

By 8pm on the Friday evening I could have been happy to ride a camel to the south of France, but didn't have to as we had our trusty German VW. So after a 7 hour pit stop we started off on our journey once again. A little frayed around the edges, but still just about happy to be on holiday. I think that this was mainly helped by the fact that we knew what lay ahead of us was a week of relaxing by the pool, getting a healthy tan, whilst eating a mainly cheese, ice cream and wine based diet. To be honest it was that thought that spurred me on. Mainly the ice-cream I think, and the triple espresso I had at a service station around Dijon.
The VW Touran, whilst our trusty German friend for the week, it did throw us a little problem at about 11.30pm when we stopped at the first service station. We pulled up to the pump and I jumped out to fill up with Diesel, as you expect to do in these circumstances. Only problem was that I couldn't open the filler flap on the car. I pressed it in and it wouldn't open. I then went back to the driver' seat and looked for a handle or a release mechanism. Couldn't find one. I went back outside the car and gave the filler flap another press just to make sure that I hadn't done it wrong in the first place. I hadn't. I then went back inside the car again and put the interior lights on a looked around the seat, on the door, on the dash, on the passenger seat or door. Nothing. By this time I was a little nervous and concerned. I think I actually might have even gone back outside and given the filler flap another little press just to make sure that my previous two attempts hadn't accidentally been a bit shit, and that the third one was going to sort the problem out. It didn't. I returned to the inside of the car again and decided to drive off and worry about it later.
I started the car and drove forward about 2m. But, to be honest, I was worrying about it then and I couldn't put it off till later, so I stopped the car and had another look around the dashboard and under the seats and the centre of the console. Still nothing. By this time a French lorry driver was asking if we needed help. We did, we needed a miracle.

Then we opened the glove box and pulled out the instruction manual looking for clue. OK, I wasn't holding out too much hope, as my French is awful (D at GCSE, although this probably equates to an A these days) and my German is worse. Luckily for us the instructions were written in Spanish?!? This didn't help either, but eventually we found a diagram pointing to the release for the filler flap being at the bottom of the drivers door storage compartment at back. Result! By this time it was midnight and we'd been on the road for only 19 hours.

At 2AM or so we were south of Lyon and we parked up at a parking area for some sleep. The kids were already asleep and had been for some time, so we woke them up, put them in the front with the adults and tried to get back to sleep. It was hit and miss for a couple of hours until the camper van next to us started up at about 4am. About 7 or 8 people, plus a dog emptied out, had a pee and whatever, and then they drove off. Finally got to sleep after that.

We woke at around 6am and had a quick snack in the car before leaving our overnight parking spot. You would be surprised how busing it was at 6am. I would be lying if I said it was the best nights sleep I'd every had.
Then after another 2 hours driving we arrived at the resort in Ardeche. The sun came up, the views over the hills and valleys were stunning and it was 20 degrees centigrade by breakfast time. We were in for a hot week away. And it was hot and a little wet, but we had fun and I'll go into that another time.

The trip back through France was OK, we diverted away from Paris and were involved in no road incidents. The only part of the journey that got a little hairy was when we tried to fit all our kids and luggage from the VW Touran into a Vauxhall Corsa. This didn't work. Although the AA came up trumps again and sorted us out with a hatchback each for Chris and I. So we split the kids in two and made a made dash back from Calais to Home. I think Chris rather enjoyed the trip back, probably because of the way we split up the luggage and kids, rather than the fact we had matching Chevrolet Auras.

Anyway, once we got back and unpacked it didn't take long for the talk to turn to next years trip. Although I did hear Chris say she would quite like to fly............ God bless the AA

Thanks also to Chris and the Kids for not losing it, because we've all seen National Lampoons European Vacation and we got very close to it. XXXX

Boomtown Rats

2009-08-20T21:49:00.000+01:00

Just incase you are interested. Yes you. I am trying to out-do my favourite 'wind tubine loving' sister in law in the photo-stakes. Must admit i'm not too sure that wind turbines are the answer to global warming, but they keep a lot of people in work and keep a lot of other people raging inside. I like that!

FYI the words below isn't completely all my work but .......

........forget about plastic bags and turning down the thermostat - the real cause of global warming is, as you may have heard before, cow farts (don't tell them, but I don't think it's just the cows - I might be partially responsible). Basically it seems (from skim reading the piece) that the profligate luxurious living of our generation is taking down the environment, and unless we all cut back on meat and milk and go back to the ways of our grandparents.

Good luck persuading people about this one. Once again I can only conclude that the world is fucked. We've got used to living like medieval kings, eating meat every day and getting exotic fruits flown in, for us to let go rotten in the bowl and then throw away. I just can't see people going back on this. Not just the consumers, but is Macdonald's really going to cut back on the beef? Are you going to be happy drinking a litre of milk a week? Would you go back to rationing? No you won't. Not even to save the world. Because you've got too used to consuming stuff and then chucking it away when it breaks and you're not going to change even if the sky starts falling in (which by the way, won't happen even in the worst case scenarios).
Perhaps the credit crunch will hit us so hard that we'll be sent back to Amish times and by 2010 we'll be driving around in carts and using grain towers as methods of execution. Who'd have thought that the Amish had the right idea all along. The Amish and the vegetarians. Though we'll probably have to get rid of the animals all together, which I don't think is what they actually wanted.

Maybe we should just start with the flatulent men. Because my guess is it is them who are eating too much meat and rich food. So if we just take them out then the atmosphere will clear up and food will be simpler and maybe a few of the cows and sheep can live.

I don't know why I am advocating this policy, because if they start killing flatulent men then I will be first against the wall. Though with a bit of luck I'll manage to blow a hole in the wall and escape before they shoot me.

Nothing much happened today.

Action This Day

2009-08-15T21:54:00.000+01:00

This week I have been travelling again and I have been fortunate enough to have a little time on my hands. Below is a short list of the things I have been reading or listening to on my Ipod

Reading
Heart Shaped Box (horror book)
Richard Herring blog (lots of news and reviews about the Edinburgh Fringe Festival)

Listening
Queen Live (again, but with renewed interest)
The Shee - Cambridge Folk Festival discovery
Carpool - Podcast/Vidcast hosted by Robert Llewellyn
Adam & Joe - Podcast of Songwars

Go on and enjoy......

Curse you Gin & Tonic

2009-08-15T20:09:00.001+01:00

Picture the scene......

A barn miles from no where.

10pm on a cool summer Saturday evening in August.

50 middle aged men standing a large circle holding hands together in the dim light. All the men are a little nervous about what is about to occur, but they are also a little excited, some men very excited for good reasons, some for the wrong reasons.

What happened next was unpleasant and messy. In the dim light of the barn the men started to dance, some men danced badly, some very badly.
I was taking part in a barndance in Tixall. A surprise to me I can tell you. But at 35 years of age you need to take a chance or two!

The evening started at 7.45pm, leaving the babysitter at home with the kids and crossing my fingers so they would sleep through. Which they did and always do. 10 minutes later we had arrived at the farm in Tixall, parked the car in a field and taken the short walk to the barn. It was a clear and warm summers evening, which there haven't been too many off this year. the views of the Staffordshire countryside were fantastic and it reaffirmed my opinion that the UK is a lovely and beautiful place, although when it rains that is hard to see sometimes.

A further 10 minutes later and we had found our table and been introduced to everyone. I can't remember any of their names, but this is OK, everyone was very friendly, very different to us and all had the same sober reservations about dancing in a barn in the middle of nowhere. There reservations took a little time and lots of alcohol to subside, but once they did we all had a great time. I think that over the course of the evening I danced at least 4 or 5 dances. In the early dances I very quickly became competitive (as did Christof) and a little annoyed that some of our more mature dancing group were unable to remember the moves. This inability to remember the moves I put down to age and alcohol. Both of which caught up with me (and Christof) a little later in the evening.

After a few square dances, the odd 'dosey doh' and a strange dance of musical 'grab a ladie' nobody wanted the evening to end. Unfortunately by this time it was after 11pm and a lot of wine had been consumed and some of our more mature dancing partners were happy to tidy up, wash their glasses and then leave in an orderly manner and let the designated driver take them home. Unfortunately Christof and I still had a bottle of gin and tonic left, so we were going nowhere. Well not for an hour at least. We spent the rest of the evening in good company with a great couple of people. Now names are my strong point, so we won't worry ourselves too much about these.

At around twenty past midnight we made our way out of the barn and down the long road home. We had a quick stop off on the way to look at some stables which belonged to one of our drinking partners. Not sure why we looked at them, but they were very nice non the less. Due to our large intake of alcohol we were walking back the 2 miles to home. It was a lovely evening, quite warm, the sky was pretty clear and no one else around apart from us. Those 2 miles took around an hour to walk, which even at a cautious inebriated pace is slow. None the less we made in back in one piece (apart from Christof's hic-ups), paid the baybsitter, locked up the house and went to bed.

Not too many hours later the kids emerged into our room fully dressed and ready for tennis club. Whilst we of course support physical activity for the kids neither of us were in the mood. Although I'm sure the parents of Venus and Serena never went to a drunken barndance. Christof took A&P to tennis whilst I lounged around and woke up slowly with number 3 child. the rest of the day was taken at a slow pace, but even though the hangover was grim and I swore off alcohol forever, I enjoyed the barndance evening so much it helped to make things feel a little better.

I think we are on the look out for the next barndance, but I still have my concern that the next one we turn up at will involve less dancing and more throwing your car keys in a bowl.............

Grab it with both hands and don't look back

2009-08-03T20:24:00.000+01:00

Whilst I don't believe I am as shallow as a muddy puddle, I have never held myself as a great philosopher. I am more from a school of thought (although not too much thought admittedly) that one must remember the past, enjoy the present and plan for the future. I don't live my life strictly by this code, but it basically explains my approach to the day and all it brings.

As John Lennon very famously and succinctly put it, “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans”. How pleased was he when he came up or found that quote? In reality I believe that that one quote above all so closely sums up todays modern, internet tweeting, facebook surfing, life that you have to remember that he wrote it over 30 years ago in the song Beautiful Boy, for his son Sean. But in reality are things really that different in 2009 to how they were 50 years ago? OK, we have the sat nav, television & DVD, fast food, credit cards and there is of course the internet and all that comes with hours of time in front of LCD screens wishing that your broadband was faster.

All the stuff above, whilst very specific and indicative of the way we chose to communicate, spend our leisure time, eat, shop and pay for our purchases, it is only demonstrative that we embrace modern tools of life, not that we are different people or even better for it. Without waffling on too much, All Mod Cons do not change who were are, just how we get to where we are.

The real difference between then and now is that the speed we live our lives today is so much quicker than that 50 years ago. Travel was slower, expensive and infrequent. Food was more expensive, less varied and based on local, seasonal produce rather than the generic supermarket shelves that sell us bananas, apples and fresh salad everyday of the year. Communication was slower and again more expensive, with letters being the primary way people kept in contact, and phone calls were for the privileged only. We did get a phone at home eventually, although it was the early ninety's and even then it was phenomenally expensive. I suppose today is just faster and more disposable than back then. The colour brown is less popular and postman would be pretty worried about their future if it wasn't for online shopping.

The last week has been a very busy and difficult week. I went back to the Isle of Man for a family funeral without my family, which was difficult but probably for the best. Funerals are of course very personal and strange affairs. It is important to respect how different people cope with grief and the events of a persons death.

Remembering the person who died is the most important action and natural reaction to some one's death. Whether these thoughts are positive (which they usually are) or other, it doesn't really matter, it is the act of remembering that it is important. It allows you to recall your memories of that person and remember what was individual about them. The funeral itself was not pleasant, but it was not unpleasant. The music played meant a lot to those who knew my uncle as it would of meant a lot to him if he was there himself. The service was very personal and the poem; written by my dad; and read out by the vicar was thoughtful and very emotional. After the service we layed flower and earth in the ground and then hung around not really knowing what to do. It was interesting and a little strange to meet my half brother and other family members from a long time ago. Not really knowing what to say, everyone acknowledging the situation and not sure where to go next with the conversation.

But then as with everything the moment was over and we all went our separate ways. The evening of funeral came and went as is the passage of time. I think that we could of spent a little more time remembering those who were not there, rather than drowning sorrows and trying to forget.

My own inevitable demise is something I acknowledge, but I choose not to focus on particularly. I think that at times of grief we have to acknowledge it is there, but we are all too busy making plans, eating fast food, planning a day out with the kids, listening to our favourite songs on the radio, buying a book on amazon or maybe even having the odd glass of wine for a treat.

We need to respect our memories and not dwell on the past too long. One of my favourite blogs recently informed me that,

"I thought I would be sad that my babies were growing up, but I am really enjoying living in the present. That involves moving on and not looking back over my shoulder yearning for the past.
Sometimes I do wish I could hold onto a moment, it would be lovely to be able to pop into photos and visit special times. But I would only like to visit not stay there - I guess this means I'm truly happy (bluerrhh!!). Remind me the next time I'm screaming at the kids!"

This is the point I am trying to make and that is it. And on that bombshell I will give you my choice of quotes about and life and death:

“Dying is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing to do with it.” - Somerset Maugham

"It hath been often said, that it is not death, but dying, which is terrible." - Henry Fielding

"The only thing I regret about my life is the length of it. If I had to live my life again, I'd make all the same mistakes - only sooner." - Tallulah Bankhead

"Live long and prosper" - Mr Spock

Goodbye

2009-07-24T20:33:00.000+01:00

After a very difficult week I would like to end it with a little light relief. Below is a list of facts which I am reliably informed are all true. I always believed everything he told me..........

3/4 of the world doesn't drink milk

The surface area of a human lung is equalivlient to a tennis court

Wetwang is a great name for a real town

In the weightlessness of space a frozen pea will explode if it comes in contact with Pepsi.

The increased electricity used by modern appliance parts is causing a shift in the Earth's magnetic field. By the year 2327, the North Pole will be located in mid-Kansas, while the South Pole will be just off the coast of East Africa.

The idea for "tribbles" in "Star Trek" came from gerbils, since some gerbils are actually born pregnant.

Male rhesus monkeys often hang from tree branches by their amazing prehensile penises.

Johnny Plessey batted .331 for the Cleveland Spiders in 1891, even though he spent the entire season batting with a rolled-up, lacquered copy of the Toledo Post-Dispatch.

Smearing a small amount of dog feces on an insect bite will relieve the itching and swelling.

The Boeing 747 is capable of flying upside-down if it weren't for the fact that the wings would shear off when trying to roll it over.

The trucking company Elvis Presley worked at as a young man was owned by Frank Sinatra.

The only golf course on the island of Tonga has 15 holes, and there's no penalty if a monkey steals your golf ball.

Legislation passed during WWI making it illegal to say "gesundheit" to a sneezer was never repealed.

Manatees possess vocal chords which give them the ability to speak like humans, but don't do so because they have no ears with which to hear the sound.

SCUBA divers cannot pass gas at depths of 33 feet or below.

Catfish are the only animals that naturally have an ODD number of whiskers.

Replying more than 100 times to the same piece of spam e-mail will overwhelm the sender's system and interfere with their ability to send any more spam.

Polar bears can eat as many as 86 penguins in a single sitting.

The first McDonald's restaurant opened for business in 1952 in Edinburgh, Scotland, and featured the McHaggis sandwich.

The Air Force's F-117 fighter uses aerodynamics discovered during research into how bumblebees fly.

You *can* get blood from a stone, but only if contains at least 17 percent bauxite.

Silly Putty was "discovered" as the residue left behind after the first latex condoms were produced. It's not widely publicized for obvious reasons.

Approximately one-sixth of your life is spent on Wednesdays.

The skin needed for elbow transplants must be taken from the scrotum of a cadaver.

The sport of jai alai originated from a game played by Incan priests who held cats by their tails and swung at leather balls. The cats would instinctively grab at the ball with their claws, thus enabling players to catch them.

A cat's purr has the same romance-enhancing frequency as the voice of singer Barry White.

The typewriter was invented by Hungarian immigrant Qwert Yuiop, who left his "signature" on the keyboard.

The volume of water that the Giant Sequoia tree consumes in a 24-hour period contains enough suspended minerals to pave 17.3 feet of a 4-lane concrete freeway.

King Henry VIII slept with a gigantic axe.

Because printed materials are being replaced by CD-ROM, microfiche and the Internet, libraries that previously sank into their foundations under the weight of their books are now in danger of collapsing in extremely high winds.

In 1843, a Parisian street mime got stuck in his imaginary box and consequently died of starvation.

Touch-tone telephone keypads were originally planned to have buttons for Police and Fire Departments, but they were replaced with * and # when the project was cancelled in favor of developing the 911 system.

Human saliva has a boiling point three times that of regular water.

Calvin, of the "Calvin and Hobbes" comic strip, was patterned after President Calvin Coolidge, who had a pet tiger as a boy.

Watching an hour-long soap opera burns more calories than watching a three-hour baseball game.

Until 1978, Camel cigarettes contained minute particles of real camels.

You can actually sharpen the blades on a pencil sharpener by wrapping your pencils in aluminum foil before inserting them.

To human taste buds, Zima is virtually indistinguishable from zebra urine.

Seven out of every ten hockey-playing Canadians will lose a tooth during a game. For Canadians who don't play hockey, that figure drops to five out of ten.

A dog's naked behind leaves absolutely no bacteria when pressed against carpet.

A team of University of Virginia researchers released a study promoting the practice of picking one's nose, claiming that the health benefits of keeping nasal passages free from infectious blockages far outweigh the negative social connotations.

Among items left behind at Osama bin Laden's headquarters in Afghanistan were 27 issues of Mad Magazine. Al Qaeda members have admitted that bin Laden is reportedly an avid reader.

Urine from male cape water buffaloes is so flammable that some tribes use it for lantern fuel.

At the first World Cup championship in Uruguay, 1930, the soccer balls were actually monkey skulls wrapped in paper and leather.

Every Labrador retriever dreams about bananas.

If you put a bee in a film canister for two hours, it will go blind and leave behind its weight in honey.

Due to the angle at which the optic nerve enters the brain, staring at a blue surface during sex greatly increases the intensity of orgasms.

Never hold your nose and cover your mouth when sneezing, as it can blow out your eyeballs.

Centuries ago, purchasing real estate often required having one or more limbs amputated in order to prevent the purchaser from running away to avoid repayment of the loan. Hence an expensive purchase was said to cost "an arm and a leg."

When Mahatma Gandhi died, an autopsy revealed five gold Krugerrands in his small intestine.

Aardvarks are allergic to radishes, but only during summer months.

Coca-Cola was the favored drink of Pharaoh Ramses. An inscriptiion found in his tomb, when translated, was found to be almost identical to the recipe used today.

If you part your hair on the right side, you were born to be carnivorous. If you part it on the left, your physical and psychological make-up is that of a vegetarian.

When immersed in liquid, a dead sparrow will make a sound like a crying baby.

In WWII the US military planned to airdrop over France propaganda in the form of Playboy

magazine, with coded messages hidden in the models' turn-ons and turn-offs. The plan was scrapped because of a staple shortage due to rationing of metal.

Although difficult, it's possible to start a fire by rapidly rubbing together two Cool Ranch Doritos.

Napoleon's favorite type of wood was knotty chestnut.

The world's smartest pig, owned by a mathematics teacher in Madison, WI, memorized the

multiplication tables up to 12.

Due to the natural "momentum" of the ocean, saltwater fish cannot swim backwards.

In ancient Greece, children of wealthy families were dipped in olive oil at birth to keep them hairless throughout their lives.

It is nearly three miles farther to fly from Amarillo, Texas to Louisville, Kentucky than it is to return from Louisville to Amarillo.

The "nine lives" attributed to cats is probably due to their having nine primary whiskers.

The original inspiration for Barbie dolls comes from dolls developed by German propagandists in the late 1930s to impress young girls with the ideal notions of Aryan features. The proportions for Barbie were actually based on those of Eva Braun.

The Venezuelan brown bat can detect and dodge individual raindrops in mid-flight, arriving safely back at his cave completely dry.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

2009-07-20T20:17:00.000+01:00

It was with sadness that death of Henry Allingham was announced to the press on Saturday. Henry died at the ripe old age of 113 and was described by staff at his care home as 'an amazing character'. Henry was born in 1896 and went on to become one of the founding members of the Royal Air Force and also one of the last surviving people to have fought in World War I.

Whilst I am sure; rightly or wrongly; that Henry was an outstanding member of the armed forces, a great hero, a man of spirit and determination and also great family man, I am also sure that most people will not care about his life and the great struggles he has obviously been through.

Mr Allingham once attributed his grand age to 'cigarettes, whisky and wild, wild women'. And whilst I hope it was not all three of these vices that kept him going right till the end, I am sure the sentiment is true that 'everything in moderation is OK'. Especially the cigarettes.....

But in these days of the Internet, Twitter and Facebook, I wonder how many friends Henry had on his MySpace page or how up to date his Wikipedia page was. Did he even have an ipod or a blackberry?

Anyway, I hope that with the use of the internet people will be able to investigate his life a little more, understand what he had been through and see exactly what he had to say for himself.

In the foreword to Mr Allingham's autobiography, Kitchener's Last Volunteer, Prince Charles wrote in 2008: 'He has witnessed so much of our history - including the sinking of the Titanic, the Great War, the Depression, the Second World War and the building of the Welfare State - taking in six of my forebears, as well as 21 Prime Ministers. 'We should all be humbled by this quiet, genial man and his desire to extol peace and friendship to the world, despite all the horrors he witnessed at such a young and impressionable age.'

An article in the Daily Mail states that Henry managed to hold the crown of World's Oldest Man, Guinness World Records confirmed in min June this year that he had become the world's oldest man after the previous record holder, Tomoji Tanabe, died in Japan aged 113. The article then continues to inform the reader about Britain's oldest man. He is only 111 and called 'Patch'. Thanks Daily Mail.

I suppose Henry Allingham's death will probably not receive the focus that his life possibly deserved. With the current daily news of deaths in Iraq, Afghanistan and with the Swine Flu pandemic gripping us all, I suppose death is to much part of everyday life. Maybe it's becoming too common and people therefore don't feel it's significant enough anymore.

Without wishing to end this blog entry on an entirely morbid note, there are a couple of news headlines today that caught my attention:

Baby falls 20ft out of second-floor window... and survives without a scratch

Knife sales plummet as diners choose to eat with just a fork

'This is how God created him': World's fattest boy, 9, whose mother won't let him diet despite health warnings

Maybe it's the credit crunch.

Living la Vida Loca

2009-07-10T20:30:00.000+01:00

I think that I am addicted to Come Dine with Me.

It's Friday evening and I'm listening to some music, trying to relax and enjoy the approaching weekend. But at the back of my mind I'm secretly looking forward to meeting 5 perfect strangers and enjoying 5 meals with them at each of their houses. Lovingly prepared, although the quality is never guaranteed. What is guaranteed though is that someone will do a prawn starter, someone will do a lamb main course, someone will do a tiramasu (paah!) and someone will act a total nitwit. Add to this the perfect dry and sarcastic humour of Dave Lamb (http://www.channel4.com/food/features/interviews/dave-lamb-interview_p_1.html), then it's another perfect night in for me. Cancel the babysitter!

In reality, I don't think that I could volunteer for a week of eating and drinking with people that I didn't know and that potentially would irritate and annoy me. It's not that I am intolerant, it's just I'd rather not take the risk. Plus I'm shit at cooking. No, I am really awful, although I suppose it's all about the effort, and maybe the 'work me' would secretly like the challenge of giving four annoying strangers the best damn meal of their lives. I've not really thought this through, but I suspect that I would cook a meaty fish, as the veggies never win with their exotic mix of carrots, nuts and lentils.

Starter - Leek and Stilton tart and salad or creamy garlic mushrooms and fresh homemade bread

Main - Tuna steak marinated in something or other, with roasted vegetables, cous cous and a fantastic rich fruity jus (don't really know what this is)

Dessert - Lemon and cointreau tart, homemade ice cream with icing dust

Plus lots and lots of nice strong booze, so that they score me highly in the taxi on the way home.

One thing I don't like about the show is the fact that they aren't able to play music at the dinner party. For me this is a real big issues, as I think that it would seriously affect the mood of the evening. Whether you are inside or out, a little music helps to improve the whole evening. Favourite dinner party music? Leave this for another time.

What score do I think I would get from my fellow contestants? I haven't a clue, but I doubt I'd win. Probably because I'd constantly be popping up stairs to ask Chris advice on how to do cooking stuff. Yes that's right I'd keep Chris up stairs as my cook advice slave.

On the topic of music, I have just stopped listening to the album Jazz, which seems to have been in constant rotation in the Smax for the last 2 or 3 months. Due to my exceptionally short term memory, I always forget to remember to take more cds from the house into the car. I hate only having 1 cd in the car, but inevitably due to laziness, grow to love every song on the album. Favourite currently is 'No More Of That Jazz' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45gRQOBrEFk).

Finally, I wish to ramble on a little about the sad death of Michael Jackson. Whilst not being an out and out fan, I did own an album and ofcourse grew up with his music. The death of anyone is very sad, but with MJ (as I'm calling him) it was ofcourse a shock because in the eyes of the world (and Paul McCartney) he was purely a Peter Pan child/man. My underlying memory of MJ is not the music, but the dangling of a baby over the balcony of a hotel (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0aiAqR5jF2s) from a few years ago, which made him look like a loony. Favourite song? Probably Say Say Say or Liberian Girl. Said with a straight(ish) face.

Anyway I looked today on YouTube to see what was the most watched post. I half expected it to be Thriller or another MJ video, but he's not even in the top 10. Number 1 is a video about a little boy being bit by his baby brother (107 million views). Number 2 is the lovely Leona Lewis with Bleeding Love (87 million views). Number 3 is mad, fat and dangerous to know - Susan Boyle (70 million views).

I hope Susan Boyle doesn't croak it.

Toffee Crunch I think

2009-07-06T19:26:00.001+01:00

A typical view of the Douglas Harbour - Tower of Refuge (built by Sir Edmund William Hilary) on the left and the IoM Steam Packet vessel Manannan on the right

With less than 24 hours left of my holiday it is difficult not to be in a reflective mood on what must have been one of the most challenging weeks of my life. Although let's make it clear, I think that we had a great holiday in the Isle of Man, it was just quite a challenge getting to the end result.

We decided early this year it would be nice to spend a week or so in the Isle of Man. We hadn't been for a long time (sorry Mum and Dad), the last time we visited it was Christmas (very cold and wet) it's a great island with lots to do and see, and we were sure the kids would love it. So off we went to the Isle of Man. I believe that it is OK to tell this story now, but I have been reliably informed in future not to blog about going on holiday as people could read the blog and then decide to burgle the empty house. This id not concern me too much as I'm not really sure that more than 4 people know about the blog and atleast 3 don't even live in the UK. If we do get burgled in the future I'll know who has arranged it and I'll be onto Crimewatch Ba Bags!

Travel
I'm not that keen on travel normally. The 'work me' completes an inordinate amount of travelling per year on flights to far flung corners and also countless hours driving the roads and motorways of the UK. But then again the 'work me' has the luxury of travelling alone (most of the time) and an Ipod with headphones. When you add three young children, Christof, Ruby (the dog) and Martha (the cat) the whole travelling experience takes on another few dimensions.

We left home on Saturday morning at around 7.30am and arrived all in one piece at the cottage in Fleshwick at around 3pm. So far so good. After unpacking we went shopping for food and supplies. This was not a good idea and I am quite confident nearly got all the kids deported from the Island due to intolerable bad behaviour in Marks and Spencers. In review I think that the parents were probably to blame as our children seem to suffer from some form of starvation based behaviour disorder. I will look this up on t'internet later. Anyway, after sugar and carbs had been consumed by the kids things calmed down a little and the rest of the day as we enjoyed even a short trip to the beach before bedtime.

Bedtime
I hate bedtime along with the kids. We had seven on this holiday and they got progressively worse, up to the peak on Thursday evening. Although by the time Dave and Judy arrived we had talked them down from the 'roof'.

An Isle of Man Horse-Tram on Douglas Promenade. We never managed a ride on one of these, although Granma and Granpa did sponsor the the kids a Horse/Donkey each

Beaches

The Isle of Man; as it's name suggests; may be surrounded completely with water, but there are not too many good sandy beaches. Port Erin and Peel were the best we found, but that is not to say that there are not a lot of good beaches. There are lots of very good beaches.

Due to the exceptional weather over the week we spent everyday on the beach. Playing in the sand and paddling/swimming in the sea. This being my 36th year on this earth I was surprised that the last time I remember I really spent any reasonable period on an Isle of Man beach was 1982. It's not an enjoyable story.

After spending all day on Douglas beach (without anything in the way of modern suncream) I arrived home back to my Nana's house with a very red back. The back got progressively worse over the period of the evening and I have a vivid memory of not being able to go to Cubs because of my burnt back and having to put the hair dryer on 'cool' and my Nana aiming at my back for the evening.

Anyway, the beaches we spent time at were good, clean and quite busy given the time of the year. Even Douglas beach was OK given the circumstances. Although I will write to the Isle of Man Tourist Board and suggest they remove the seaweed from Douglas beach. This is not a middle age rant, purely an observation that would make the beach easier and nicer to access and enjoy.

Only thing that may have caused an issue was the on going question of whether Jellyfish actually sting. Fortunately we never found out the answer personally, but from the sobbing in Port Erin I think that the live one's sting, yet the dead ones don't.

A dead jellyfish on Peel beach doing nothing but minding his own dead business.

I Scream

During the entire holiday we must have single handily sponsored the Manx ice cream industry, with a little help from Dave Burnett and Granma and Granpa.

Without a doubt the best ice cream to be found anywhere in the British Isles has to be Davison's http://www.davisons.co.im/index.php/our-flavours they have an extensive number of flavours, which only confuse and compromise your ice cream purchasing experience, but which ultimately never disappoint. Throughout the week various flavours were tried and tested, then re-tried and re-tested with different cones and toppings, and some were even triple re-tried TWICE just to be sure. The result at the end of the week was as follows:

Anya - Bubblegum, chocolate waffle cone, with a chocolate flake

Bucks - Malteser or Cookies and Cream, chocolate waffle cone, with a chocolate flake

Juan - Any flavour with a cone (not for long)

Christof - Not sure really, maybe mango or chocolate orange with a normal cone

Me - Toffee crunch (aka - Hokey Pokey) with a normal cone

Whatever the result I have finally managed to put to rest the ghost of Manx Ices. Manx Ices got me to where I am today and helped Silverdale to the height of popularity back in the Day. If only someone would spend a bit of money and put some investment back in Silverdale s i am sure it would be a happier and busier place for it. Come on Davison's. maybe I need to email them and the IoM tourist board.

Eating and drinking
Don't eat out in the Isle of Man.

It's not that the food isn't good. some of it is fine and a little pricey, but mainly because the kids would gain more satisfaction from eating cardboard with ketchup on it.

I know there is not intentional malice, but every meal we ate out was a little tarnished.

Favourite places are:

http://www.bushys.com/ - great beer

http://www.niarbylcafe.com/ - great food and views

Greens (Vegetarian Restaurant)North Quay , Steam Railway Station, Douglas, Isle Of Man IM1 4LL01624-629129

with a special mention to the island's first Queenie festival, which I thought was well organised, quite diverse and well attended attended by locals and the odd tourist. Try your sea food.

http://queeniefestival.com/

I think everyone enjoyed the holiday in the Isle of Man. I know the kids enjoyed seeing their grandparents and I'm sure this is reciprocated. The weather was great and it was great to see Dave and Judy. Whilst we didn't really do too much I think that we did more than enough, and everyone went to bed tired.

The cottage was exactly as I remember and it was great fun to be back there again.
While I am sorry to let the side down on not eating 1 single toasty during the trip I blame this completely on the kids. Although on the plus side there's plenty to look forward to next time. ............................

Summer Holidays

2009-06-24T21:27:00.000+01:00

It is nearly time to pack our brand new brown bags, fill the car with kids, dogs, cats and go on holiday. Well that is what you do in the summer.

Today was a hot and sunny day. In my office you can't really tell what it is like in the outside world. This is due to the air con and the terrible view from my office window. I left the office at around 12.30pm and walked accross to Accounts and couldn't believe how warm it was. So at 1pm I went home and jumped in the MG and went for a quick drive around Hixon. This is probably only the second time in a year I have gone to work in the MG. Not sure why, as it's a lot nicer to drive than the SMax on a hot and sunny day.

I am really really looking forward to our week away in the sunny Isle of Man. I also really like holidaying in Britain. I think that there are so many great places and most people never get to appreciate them as they are too keen to catch that flight to Corfu or Magaluf.

After reading a blog written by SilverTiger I made a promise to eat toasty everyday of the holiday, although I'm not sure I'll stick to this promise.

There are plenty of good things to do on the Isle of Man. As the kids get older I am excited about them enjoying some of the things I enjoyed as I was growing up. They are still young enough not to find it too cheesy or boring, although I know this will come. Plus now that they have been abroad I think that they secretly like the weather being hot and sunny everyday so that they can play in the pool.

I know that now I'm in my 36th year I have turned into a boring old hippy. I remember when I was about ten years old I was playing in Poulsom Park in Castletown with a friend of mine. We were hanging around not doing anything exciting when we got talking to a couple of other kids. We didn't recognise the kids from school and so were quite interested in where they were from. When one of them explained they were on holiday from England, I remember thinking to myself that their parents must be weird to come to the Isle of Man when they could to loads of better places to go, like Blackpool.....and Alton Towers.

Who said 10 year olds dont know what they are talking about.

Manchester United 10 - Tottenham Hotspurs 2

2009-06-23T21:22:00.000+01:00

Last night saw the final United/Spurs match for a long while. I was hoping that United's loss of Ronaldo and Tevez over the last couple of weeks would play in favour of the Super Spurs, but I couldn't of been more wrong. If anything it forged a much stronger team with Rooney playing out of his skin. 10-2 was the worst result of the two games, with 9-2 being the other. There was some concern that both managers had been drinking, with the Spurs manager quite unreasonably even drinking a glass of red during the game. I don't know how he will explain that to Ledley King.

Of course I'm not waffling on about a real game of football, it was last nights FIFA07 on the PS2 between two old friends. Over the years this has become a sort of ritual between us. Not sure how or when it started, but over the years the results have tended to be reasonably even. In general I would say that United have probably won more games, and the games that Spurs have won tended to be smaller goal victories. The games have been played on various versions of the FIFA game with last nights 2007 version being the worst version I have ever played! Of course I would say that bearing in mind the thrashing that occurred.

I'm not too sure exactly why the game turned into the crushing United victory. I have a belief that United had been secretly practicing for months just on the off chance of one final Spurs game. I also have a belief that lots of lager may have numbed the usually razor sharp senses of the Spurs team. Whatever the reason, it was probably a fair result and one that will haunt me forever. I have done some basic research and I don't think that United have ever beaten Spurs by such a large margin, but after this seasons 5-2 drubbing I assume that Spurs are getting used to the humiliation.

Aside from the football the rest of the evening was short, but good fun. I am glad that I had the opportunity to have one last beer in Hedge End.

There are too many stories I could write here about Richie and myself from the lest 15 years, but I won't do them justice so I'm not going to try. I'm also sure that there are too many stories I have forgotten, which would probably be the really interesting ones.

I wish Cathy and Rich (and the cats) all the best for the brave move to Canada. I will miss both of them and hope to see them again sooner rather than later. Be sure though I will be practicing on FIFA everyday from now till then!

Good riddance guys.

Fight Club

2009-06-19T23:36:00.000+01:00

The first rule of blogging is never to write an entry whilst under the influence, tired, stressed and moody.

The second rule of blogging is never to write an entry whilst under the influence, tired, stressed and moody.

Below is an edited version of last nights ill fated 'Reflections' post. Apologies to anyone who read the meaningless bilge, including me this morning.......

"I think that there are a lot of things that I have enjoyed over the last few weeks in writing this blog. One thing that does seem a familiar theme is the routine that life sometimes falls into if you don't watch out. This at the moment consists of being woken up, working too many hours and then home late and before slumber calls us all to inevitable unconsciousness.

..................although we all communicate using the same language, we don't always seem to hear the same words. Our development allows us to learn to speak, but also to forget to listen? This really is mad. But unfortunately I am very good at talking and pretty poor at listening sometimes.

Now the 'work me' has been really really busy over the last few weeks. This week especially has been crazy, and yet again the week ends without the 'work me' achieving anywhere near half the things on my very long 'to do' list. I think i may be worry about the list a little too much, but hat's probably because I've also got another 'to do' list of things that probably will never get done.

I have been recently quite annoyed by the Jane Fonda advert on the TV. It tells me that Jane is an older lady (72 I think), but at the same time she remains youthful and sexy because she uses some revitalising face cream from L'Oreal.

Now there is no denying that the 72 year Jane Fonda does indeed look good for her age, but I can only assume that this is not all down to her choice of face cream. It may have something to do with the trappings of her millionaire lifestyle.

I will cut it short at this point as I can't do any more editing of the drivel produced last night.

Please, please, please remember the 1st rule of fight club.

Touch the Truck

2009-06-18T20:19:00.000+01:00

Fame at last! Please make an orderly queue. I'm on my way up and no-one's going to stop me.

The widely known and highly read 'Diesel and Gas Turbine Magazine' has printed an article quoting me (on several occasions) as an expert in the industry of moving large diesel and gas turbines. Which of course I'm not. but anything for a bit of profile for my fledgling blog. Do you think they would sponsor this?

I haven't really listened to much music for a while. I seem to have become addicted to podcasts. Podcasts are great. They seem to have taken on an entertainment format all of their own. Some of my favourites are Collings&Herrin and radio 4's FridayNight Comedy , but mainly anything funny. I especially enjoy podcast when the work me is travelling and I'm being miserable not having to speak to anyone. I just sit there and laugh to myself, usually about juvenile bumming jokes on the Collings&Herrin podcast.

When driving today I put on a cd and listened to a couple of songs at full volume and was really surprised how much I enjoyed it. I think I've been depriving myself of music, and never mind vitamin D, give me some vitamin M. Ok that doesn't really work, but you know what I mean. Diving songs are best on a sunny day, with the windows open and the roof down if you are fortunate to have a car without a roof.

Favourite driving songs? I'll leave that for another day, but I think I'll give the podcasts a miss for a while and listen to a few of the 5000 songs on my ipod while I'm out with the dog. Girls Aloud........ok, as long as it's Biology.

5 against 3 doesn't make 6

2009-06-18T00:54:00.000+01:00

I woke up around 19 hours ago and yet I can't seem to sleep tonight. This is quite unusual for me as I am normally a very shallow person and also a good sleeper (in the good old fashioned sense of the word).

Today or yesterday (depending on your pendanctics) was a really hard day. It started bright and early with Anya's 6th birthday. I was proud of her, but not really properly focused. It was the trees, not me being rubbish. We had breakfast and presents, and cakes with candles, all before 8.30am. Amazing.

She is the best 6 year old I know. Smart, caring, curious, challenging, fun, funny, demanding, gorgeous and totally wrapped up in being a 6 year old girl.

Unfortunately for me, I am the worse 35 year old I know . The list of issues is long, so I won't go into it, but I dissappointed myself today because I let the trees become more important than the birthday of my little 6 year old girl.

Birthdays are something that you are immensely proud of when you are young. I think of myself as still young, but the fact that every year I look forward less to my birthday is maybe a little telling about my age. When you are 10 you can't wait to be a year older, whether it is purely for the party I'm not too sure, but life is full of unpredicatable excitement behind (and around) every corner and we look forward to that with unbridled enthusiasm. We could all do with some of that now and again.

I sat with Anya on Sunday and we looked at all the famous people who shared her birthday on the 17th June. The list was pretty pathetic, although Venus Williams and Barry Manilow meant a lot to me, but she wasn't even impressed by Lee from Blue. Kids today!

After all my self depreciation of the last few lines, in our house we now have a rule of not having just a birthday. You have a 'birthday week'. I like this invention. Whilst I am sure that it was created to elongate the present giving and cake eating process, it has also allowed the importance of 1 single day to become less relevant. Within the 'birthday week' you should go to atleast a couple of pub lunches, have atleast 2 or 3 birthday cakes, open many many presents and hopefully see granny and grandad, plus all the aunties, uncles etc.

OK, so I may have missed most of today, but I think Anya's 'birthday week' will probably end on Sunday. There's still 4 more days to go. Plenty of time to enjoy ourselves.

On the matter of trees I can confirm we got a result. Although we had to sit through stories of airships, imaginary rivers and imported dutch lime trees. And I never got to meet the Lickorice.

Anyway, tomorrow's another day and it's still Anya's 'birthday week'

Trees Trees Trees and Michael Mcintyre

2009-06-15T21:21:00.000+01:00

This week has all the markings of a week from hell. So far Monday has been OK, but I believe that this is just a curve ball to lead me (or lull me) into a false sense of security.

Waking up these days always falls into the same familiar pattern. You can usually set your clock to the time that Patrick (95% of the time before 6am) will magically appear in the room, standing next to the bed, telling the world 'he is not tired'. Then begins the daily ritual of persuading him that it is:
A - the middle of the night and he must go back to sleep
B - the crack of dawn and he must go back to bed
C - too early and he can play with his toys in his room

I'm not too sure whether Patrick actually likes the toys in his room, because he never wants to spend the early hours of the day in there. Maybe father Christmas could bring him some interesting toys. Come on Santa!!

At sometime between 6am and 7am, Euan will start his morning wake up call. It starts in a low mumble, occasionally gurgling, then some chattering, possibly a bit of singing, before the inevitable sobbing starts. Now we know that there is nothing wrong with him, just his way of telling the world it is time to get out of bed and be cute. If only he could speak.

Finally Anya. She is the most unpredictable riser in the house. There appears to be no routine to when she will arrive in the morning, but as always she is a little sleepy and you get the feeling she would rather have an extra 5 or 10 minutes. Although be aware, once she's awake then she is on the prowl for food. Like a modern day hunter gatherer looking for cereal.

Once everyone is up there is the usual mayhem in persuading people to get dressed, brush teeth, put socks on, stop fighting, turn the TV off, get downstairs for breakfast, etc. etc. etc. Most of the moaning comes from me, but I see that as my role in life a the great organiser.

Anyway, after the first hour of the day at home the rest of the day is usually quite uninteresting in comparison. Apart from the trees, oh the trees. They are starting to haunt me in my waking and sleeping hours. Let's hope that common sense and justice prevails. Watch this space........

At least it's better than watching Michael McIntyre's Comedy Roadshow.

Sleep Debt

2009-06-14T08:17:00.000+01:00

I read on the internet recently that one can survive and function on as little as 5 hours sleep. I am not one of those people. I think I'm more along the lines of a 10 hours a night man, if you know what I mean. Although I love sleeping, the act of waking up is the most feared and hated, especially if I oversleep, then wake up and have to immediately get out of bed. Ahhh, curse you sleep, you are a cruel yet addictive and comforting mistress.

When I was a child, maybe 5 or 6, I remember going through quite a long spell of sleepwalking. Not that I went for long walks, more that it happened again and again over a number of months/years maybe. Now this was the 70's, kids could play football in the street, the sun always shone, there was no internet and life was pretty much comprised of old wive's tales and flares. I'm sure parents and families believed that most things that children did they would grow out of. Well I did with the sleep walking atleast, so no harm down there. But I wonder why it happens? And how can we function whilst asleep? There are unfortunately a few too many stories i could tell about sleepwalking out of hotel rooms in little or no clothes, but I'm not going to. I have read an article about a man from Philidelphia who was on trail for alledged lewd conduct. His defence was that he was sleep 'perving', sorry walking.

It is well known that some people with sleepwalking have very complex behaviors at night. And believe it or not, some have been found to be driving, eating, preparing meals. Most of us miss out on sleep, but only 1 percent to 2 percent of people suffer from "parasomnia," or actions while sleepwalking. This would maybe provide an insight into some poor driving on the M6.

Somniphobia is the fear of sleeping or going to bed. How frustrating must it be to have that as a phobia? I assume that as with all phobias the irrational fear of anything must be annoying, embarrassing and potentially debilitating. My phobia is probably one of the most common out there. Spiders. I've never liked them in anyway. The size, texture of their epidermis, number of legs, number of eyes, the way they scuttle, the fact you never see them eat or drink, and also the arrogant way that they never ask to move into you house or warn you that they intend to live in the bath, they just crack on, move in and wait for you to find out. There are plenty of other phobias out there in real life. Here are a list of some I quite like:

Pteronophobia- Fear of being tickled by feathers.

Pediophobia- Fear of dolls

Rectophobia- Fear of rectum or rectal diseases

Russophobia- Fear of Russians

Sinophobia- Fear of Chinese, Chinese culture.

Zemmiphobia- Fear of the great mole rat.

Consecotaleophobia- Fear of chopsticks.

Dendrophobia- Fear of trees.

Dextrophobia- Fear of objects at the right side of the body.

Eleutherophobia- Fear of freedom.

Epistemophobia- Fear of knowledge

Ereuthrophobia- Fear of blushing.

Euphobia- Fear of hearing good news.

Eurotophobia- Fear of female genitalia

Genuphobia- Fear of knees

Geliophobia- Fear of laughter

Graphophobia- Fear of writing or handwriting

Geumophobia- Fear of taste

Helminthophobia- Fear of being infested with worms

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia- Fear of long words.

Hobophobia- Fear of bums or beggars

Hylophobia- Fear of forests.

Ithyphallophobia- Fear of seeing, thinking about or having an erect penis

Koinoniphobia- Fear of rooms

Leprophobia - Fear of leprosy

Leukophobia- Fear of the color white

Levophobia- Fear of things to the left side of the body

Linonophobia- Fear of string

Logophobia- Fear of words

Lutraphobia- Fear of otters

Melophobia- Fear of music

Nosocomephobia- Fear of hospitals

Oneirogmophobia- Fear of wet dreams

Panophobia or Pantophobia- Fear of everything

Papaphobia- Fear of the Pope

Although I'm not too sure the name of the phobia associated with having your bottom tickled by a great mole rate with chopsticks and an erect penis. I'll come back to you on that one.

It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining, so it's time to go and enjoy it instead of being stuck behind the laptop.

Post from a website on 1900 and 1980's TV programmes:
Horace 1982 - does anyone remember this series. it was about a simple child like man named Horace. i think it was set in the north of england. Does anyone remember the actor who played him?

Sounds a great programme, I'm sure they'll bring it back on ITV.

During and after the rain................

2009-06-07T19:24:00.000+01:00

Rain above in Shrewsbury

Rain below in Laos

It appears that this weekends constant raining has been payback for last weekend constant sunshine. And who said there is no such thing as karma/Yin&Yang/what goes around...........

The weekend; as always; has gone by quicker than any of us wanted. It's been another interesting one, but now Sunday evening brings with it the usual routine of preparation for Monday, but more importantly tonight the final of The Apprentice. Yes Sir Alan.

This series has been good, a lot better than last year for sure. I can hardly remember who won last year (Lee I believe? - he didn't make it and went on holiday after a few weeks and never returned. If only). Aside from Nick and Margaret becoming a little more animated in this series, I have also noticed some things which warrant review:

1 - Why does Frances (Sir Alan's Secretary, sorry PA) get up in the middle of the night, dress and have breakfast, then drive to the office, just to phone up the contestants at the crack of dawn to tell them to be at Battersey Dog's Home (or wherever) in 30 minutes? She must either, get paid a fortune or be incredibly driven. Also, once she's phoned up the contestants, hat does she do then? There can't be a lot of 'PA ing' that needs doing at 5.30am, although I suppose there's always emails to read and file. Damn that work me!

2 - Francis always instructs the contestants that the cars will arrive in 30 minutes. Then the contestant who has answered the phone then goes and wakes up the others. How do they manage to get themselves ready in 30 minutes? I struggle to get myself out of bed and ready for anything in 30 minutes and that's without having to iron clothes or share a bathroom.

3 - I notice that both Francis and Sir Alan have ditched their AMSTRAD phones with the big LCD display and texting/email capability, and these have been replaced with ultra slim desk phones.

I hope that in these credit crunch times that this doesn't mean the end for Sir Alan's multimillion fortune. I assume that Francis didn't like the look of the useless machine and recommenced to Sir Alan that he used an IPhone to email or text her whilst listening to music. I hope that as a result of this outspoken gesture from Francis, Sir Alan doesn't utter the immortal line 'Your Fired' and we lose her from the next series. She's my favourite. And remember all those early mornings Sir Alan.

Anyway, I don't really care who wins tonight but I suppose I should favour Kate as she is from the Midlands and has nice teeth.

I am quite surprised about the direction this blog entry has gone as I was going to keep it short and focus mainly on reading about the 'Nightingale and the Chamberlain' with my daughter. Maybe next time.

Looking forward to a dry and sunny week. I'm off to do some ironing before the Francis Show starts.

Blog #1

2009-06-06T20:38:00.000+01:00

I have never made any attempts to keep a diary, except back in my teens when I was full of angst and hormones. That initial attempt at diary keeping lasted for a matter of days and quickly fell into a rhythm of who I fancied and how much my parents annoyed me.

Deep stuff indeed.

For this my new blog I am hoping to I take one incident, thought or encounter from a previous day, week or even year and then write about it. This I hope, will improve my writing and to force myself to think about how things have made me feel. So there will be mistakes and things that are frankly rubbish and embarrassing. But little more than most expect of me I am sure.

I also like the idea of trying to turn around the ravages of the last 35 years on my brain. By recording the day to day minutia that usually gets quickly forgotten, the odd characters, bizarre thoughts, quiet reflections, and of course the family growing up, I hope to produce something worth reading and turn the clock back on the old grey matter.

I will undoubtedly reveal stuff about my mental state which is OK. I think.

I am sure that it is quite hard to think of anything to write about and I am concerned that my motivation will quickly wain, as the 16 year old me reminds of my failed attempts at diary writing back in the early 1990's. Damn that 16 year old me!

Much of my life is spent at work. I do not plan to write about the ins an outs of my demanding work life as a high flyer. If I did, I am sure the work me would chastise me about the quality of the blog entries produced and get me to stay late at work to bring them up to scratch. Damn the work me!

This is not going to be a record of everything about my day, rather just a second of reflection or memory. As long as the work me gives me some time off.....