So here’s the thing, I was reflecting on that last posting where my fab grandson Sam, and mate Chizz, were interviewing me about things gone by. I thought to myself it was fun to reminisce but it’s raised some thoughts within me. When you get to my age the temptation must be to look back fondly on all those memories because your life is no longer cool. But mine is still vibrant. So what?
I seem to be in a reflective mood at the moment. Now I think about it, it may not be such a bad idea actually to log some memories down before I lose many more marbles. Certain things I see on tv are triggering memories from when I was young, especially about my mum and dad. I’ve done postings about each of them recently and here’s another about my mum which I’m certain you’ll find slightly intriguing…
Well the last posting was about saying goodbye to our great friend Sheila, tinged with guilt and much sadness at missing her funeral. This one follows a similar path; a farewell coupled with a hint of sorrow and some regret but I hope this will be more uplifting. Here perhaps we have something to celebrate and smile at. Unless I’ve really fucked up. Continue reading
Well yesterday was a great day really. I headed in to London to see my old friend J who runs a very funky graphics design agency. We had a great meeting on how I might be able to help build awareness for him and his creative work now that I’ve sharpened up his online presence. All very exciting. En route to meeting up with him near Waterloo, I drove in to north London and parked up my car very close to where we used to live on Muswell Hill Rd. It was lovely to walk through Highgate Woods again on the way to Highgate underground station. Now you may not know it but because of the hilly terrain, the station was built in a deep cutting excavated beneath Highgate Hill. During the war, the deep-level platforms at Highgate were used by many as a shelter from the bombing of London by the Luftwaffe, and, later, V-1 and V-2 missiles. The entrance is a long way down. You can in fact get an up escalator to the surface from the booking hall but there’s only one way down via a steepish path. I’m not sure these pictures do it justice….
Now you know you’re getting old when your children hit middle age, right? Well tomorrow we’re having a party for our lovely, beautiful, eldest daughter Rebecca who had her 40th birthday earlier this week. It’s a cliche but it really does seem like yesterday when we were waiting to take her home from the hospital after her birth. Where do the years go eh? I’ll stop with the well-worn phrases now.
I had a bit of a surprise this week. No it wasn’t seeing Rob Brydon canter over the zebra crossing with his kid right in front of me this morning. Nor was it the guilty verdict handed down to that dirty old git Max Clifford, a man who made a fortune exposing the perverted little peccadillos of many a sleazy celebrity. Isn’t life ironic eh? It will be sweet justice for his victims I guess to see him banged up for a long stretch knowing the lads who will make Max Mad will be lining up in the shower block. No the real surprise was a telephone call from an old colleague, A, from Cellnet days who I hadn’t heard from in almost 25 years. It was an early morning call and he asked about my health and the family, which was decent, but it quickly became apparent that his main purpose in calling was because he had an issue with what I’d written in this blog posting back in 2007:
Well David Beckham’s gone and announced his retirement now but surely the biggest news item in this week was the publication of yet another of my postings in the fabulous high50 site. Alright David might have stolen the front page headlines but it was big news in this household I can tell you and I’m sure old Clarkson must be quaking in his Sunday Times boots at such an amusing new columnist. Long-standing readers may remember this posting about one of my early public appearance successes heading up the marketing function at mobile network Cellnet. I still blush today at the memory but you’re welcome to enjoy my indignity:
Time to move on eh. One of the few bright moments in a very dark couple of weeks was a little e-message I got from the editor of a great online magazine called High 50, confirming that I’d won an amusing story competition (using an old blog posting) and would have the entry published. Well you could have knocked me over with a quill. After nearly 700 postings and well over half a million words I’d finally managed to get a piece of writing recognised. Continue reading