Well after an action-packed horrific return posting on creatures attacking my manhood, this is an altogether more reflective piece about getting old. Sigh.
Hello again dear readers. Well that was a bit of a break; partially inspired by work commitments and also because my last postings created such critical comment. I was trying to be light and amusing whilst making a serious point but I failed on all counts and stood accused of one or two very nice traits, like misogyny and homophobia. Hmm. Not what I was aiming for to be honest, nor what I’m like. So I figured that if my writing was causing so much offence I’d better take a wee break. Anyway I’ve reflected and just fancied getting back being ranty and opinionated again. And as a treat I’ve got a charming little subject upon which to re-open my blogging account. It’s caused me discomfort, a little nausea, some incredulity, a bit of embarrassment and a nasty little after-feeling. Retribution, some might say.
So I’m doing some consultancy for a local marketing company (it’s a great story for another posting) and they’re doing this Secret Santa thing for Xmas in the office and they’ve kindly invited me to join in. They’re all such young guys and I’ve just hit the one age that nobody wants to hit, ever, because you turn into this Old And Past it person. Argh. So I can remember events from back in the Middle Ages and I was drawn to get something interesting for a fascinating young woman who wasn’t even born when Glenn Hoddle lost his job as England manager and Tracy Emin exhibited her unmade bed at Tate Modern. Yes she’s that old.
So last week-end we had a busy old schedule; a drive up to Northwich, Cheshire on Saturday for the marriage of C’s neice which was designed and entirely produced by lovely G and her top husband M on the theme of a retro afternoon tea party – brilliant. Then a blast back down to Colchester in Essex on Sunday to my lovely cousin K and cool husband A’s place as they were hosting a barbie for my dad Bob, who happened to be having a holiday in Westcliffe. It was a bit of a surprise do as Bob wasn’t aware that we and all our daughters and grandkids were attending as well as my cousin C and her daughters. It was a real gathering of the southern and rapidly expanding section of my family. I have to say that at both events, separated by hours of yet more week-end motorway traffic, we had a really super time. Both events were bloody fab. Continue reading
Driving eh. I used to do well over 40,000 miles a year when I was in business (a lot of it the daily 4.5 hour commute from Buckingham to C London and back) and, believe it or not, pretty much enjoyed all of it. I’ve always been a guy who loves to drive. Until the last year or so….
Oh blimey so much to talk about. The European Chammpionships, Adele at Glastonbury, the frigging weather. And what about that Referendum result? I’m still in a state of shock. I’m amazed at a poll in today’s newspapers that says that over 1 million people have come out and declared that they voted for Leave but were shocked to find out that we are actually now having to leave the EU. Apparently they were all secretly hoping for a Remain outcome. Eh?
As you are probably fed up of reading I write for a living now and, as a rule, I get paid if my clients are pleased with the words I deliver for them. Unsurprisingly the reverse is true too, of course. So I try and get things right and ensure, as far as possible, that the client is pleased with the outcome. It’s the best way to put beans on the table I find.