Campervan dreams...

Blinking heck, January 3rd already! So far this year all I’ve done is go on about what I’m going to do this year and at some point I’ll need to get a grip and do it rather than just talk or think about it. Mind you I have put my new calendar up and pushing that drawing pin into the solid pine back door was quite a struggle. This year’s calendar – a present for MCW – is a selection of VW campervans again. It has been for the last eight years or so and I think that with each flipping over of the passing months I become ever more desperate to own one.

I used to get a calendar of lighthouses every year (I always fancied being a lighthouse keeper and I even researched it as a boy, mainly through watching Blue Peter), but then, alas, one by one they were all automated and another dream was dashed. The campervan on the other hand remains a very real possibility – at least in my head.

I have this fantasy of owning one and then going on a year-long road trip around this magnificent isle of ours. MCW is more than welcome to come along, but the lack of an internal toilet and my ‘horrendous, stupid, bloody snoring’ - which apparently I do on purpose – makes this highly unlikely. Alas! How will I manage all those pubs without her? My aim would be to cover all of the UK (apart from Northern Ireland and those bitty bits in Scotland), visit one pub in a different town each night and get chatting to the local ‘character’. Of course when I say ‘character’ I actually mean ‘loony’. Well, loonies always seem to have the best grasp of reality and some great tales to tell. I once got chatting to a chap in a pub who insisted that he’d once seen a shark coming up through his toilet as he was sitting on it. He even offered to show me the injuries that the shark had caused. NaturaIly I declined his kind offer.

I would of course blog and vlog my experiences and at the end of my travels write a best-selling book that would be turned into a major movie starring Martin Shaw even though he’s not quite as macho as me. I once had a Bodie perm and very fetching it looked on me too, in fact it looked better on me than it did on him, so I think that it could work.

So there you have it. The 2017 calendar is up and I’m determined to buy a campervan this year and start my grand adventure – and if not this year then next, or the year after. All I need is permission from MCW.

Maybe I should apply to become a lighthouse keeper after all.

Game of life...

Blue skies today. I got up even later (9.00 am – shock horror) immediately thinking (worrying) about commencing with this new New Year and making a start on that huge list of requirements MCW has planned for me in 2017. I don’t actually need resolutions when I have her, or the internet to answer my questions, or any need for hobbies to fill my time, or even a requirement to think for myself come to that. 

MCW seems to always know exactly what I should be doing and when and why and who I should be doing it with at all times – which is why I spend so much time washing up I guess. Of course the BIG LIST (the one that contains jobs that have needed doing for twenty or thirty years or so) has now grown so long that they resemble the chains that bound Jacob Marley’s ghost and then some. Still, it’s a New Year and I have the love (and boot) of a good woman behind me, so it will all get done – just not today.

It was at this point that I realised that it was officially a Bank Holiday Monday and doing anything at all on a Bank Holiday was a crime against the great god Pan (my preferred deity of choice). So with a merry whistle (my pipes were unavailable) and a spring in my hooves off we went to the supermarket to buy the neccessaries. Today these consisted of some vegetables, prawns and biscuits for Princess Luna (who must be obeyed and fed prawns at all times) and of course our wine allowance for the day. It seems that my trolley driving has deteriorated over the holidays and I have become 'so bloody dangerous'. Fortunately MCW was with me to give me instruction and point out every tiny mistake I made or even was about to make 'if I wasn't careful'. Even so - careful as I was - I still managed to 'only just miss' a display of fruit by a very slim margin of about three feet.

I have to admit to making yet another mistake yesterday. The TV was rubbish last night - I know it’s hard to believe given that it was New Year’s Day and the fact that we have more than two channels to choose from – so we ended up watching a repeat of Endeavour which ‘we’ had never seen before. The mistake wasn’t so much that I had seen it before and for once remembered the plot clearly whilst MCW hadn’t. No. my mistake was pretending that I’d never seen it before and then going on to solve it half way through the program claiming that it was ‘obviously the wife’ and detailing the reasons that led me to this conclusion – the affair, the dress, the fake suicide (which was actually another murder) and the fact that any woman Morse has the hots for is always going to get locked up in clink – or dead - or both.

Of course I was ‘without doubt deluded' and really should stop trying to be 'so bloody clever’. Sadly,  I became even ‘bloody cleverer’ when ‘without doubt’ I was revealed to be right after all (well I had seen it before). I’ve always wanted to be called ‘a know-it-all, smartarse, so bloody right, clever little Andy’, and for once I got my wish. I expect my ‘to do’ list to grow even longer today.

Despite this tiny faux-pas New Year’s Day was generally okay for a Sunday. So much better than those of my childhood and youth. There was no ‘big light’ on in the living room, no ‘Sing Something Simple’ on the radio, and of course I no longer have to worry about homework or indeed work of any kind  these days apart from my list and an awful lot of what MCW describes as 'thumb twiddling' it seems.

We played a board game with MLD and her beau after dinner. Fortunately it didn’t include exposing your teeth through a plastic mouth guard or getting your face covered in whipped cream. It was more a souped-up Monopoly called Game of Life and I of course got the yellow car. Now who on earth drives a yellow car with so many other colours available? I also, rather ill-advisedly, won which made me an even ‘cleverer Andy’ apparently. Maybe yellow cars ain't so bad after all.

Oh well, I’ve been at this game of life for a long time now, so if I can’t win at that what can I win at?

Please don’t answer that.

Soul Resolution...

My first verse of 2017.

Soul resolution

Where’s the glue?
Gotta fix my soul.
Do you have a hammer?
Gotta fix my soul.
Any spare nails?
Gotta fix my soul.
Have you seen my soul?
It’s full of holes.

Need some cotton.
To patch up my soul.
A strong needle and thimble.
To patch up my soul.
A new set of eyes.
To patch up my soul.
Have you seen my soul?
It’s not quite whole.

There’s a hole in my pocket.
Might lose my soul.
There’s a hole in my shoe.
Might lose my soul.
There’s a hole in my soul.
Might lose my soul.
Just how can I find it?
Take off this blindfold?

Gonna need all my strength.
To find my soul.
Gonna need some help.
To find my soul.
Gonna need my soul.
To find my soul.
Have you seen my soul?
I'm outta control.

A new year..

New Year, new start and to help me do that I’m going to start furiously peddling away at that blogging wheel again. Who knows it may even help me lose a little weight.

I've always fancied myself as a bit of a hamster even though I’m probably more rat than cuddly puffy-cheeked fur ball of fun. In the past it was my blog that sustained me when all else failed and last year - through circumstances beyond my control – I neglected to recognise that I may need it more than it needs me. Besides, despite what some people occasionally think (including myself) I am not Jesus - although the water to wine thing would come in really handy sometimes.

So New Year, new blog and I’ve got this yearning to make it a bit more of a diary. Of course me being me it’s unlikely to be totally factual and - although I like to shop -  a daily entry of: ‘Went to Aldi and bought three bottles of red for tonight’ is likely to quickly become a bit repetitive. Still I can give it a go and if you don’t like it I’m sure that you’ll let me know.

I saw the New Year in more to say ‘bugger off’ to the old one than to welcome the new, so I didn’t get up until eight-thirty on this rainy New Year’s Day morning. I have to say the New Year didn’t feel that much different to the old year, but then does it ever? Perhaps it takes a while for it to kick in and it is Sunday apparently which is always a slightly empty day with only Antiques Roadshow to look forward to. So it’s Sunday bloody Sunday and New Year’s Day all in one and it’s likely to be as boring as the New Year’s Days of my childhood - although I’m sure that Bono (a survivor of God's 2016 pop idol cull unfortunately) would approve.

My early morning plan to go for a five kilometre run had to be delayed due to the rain and lack of suitable footwear and the gym isn’t open today, so I’ll join tomorrow. I had planned a nettle shake for my dinner but apparently we are having roast turkey with all the trimmings and (not wishing to start the New Year on the wrong foot) I found myself reluctantly acquiescing to partake or face the wrath of MCW (my charming wife).

Meanwhile MLD (my loving daughter) is probably comatose in her bedroom after spending New Year’s Eve playing games on one of those console things with her beau and may not emerge until Tuesday. Just what’s wrong with celebrating New Year’s Eve in a normal way I ask you? We do have a very large TV and Jools Holland does a very good Hootenanthingy – so who needs really Rambuster III, Zombie Ashopalypse with bells on?

Talking of television I need a cunning plan to detract MCW from finding out that Dirty Dancing is on Channel 5 yet again this afternoon. Much as I am a Patrick Swayze fan (once bearing more than a passing resemblance to him before I gained a few pounds and decided to go grey) I’m not sure that I want to hear him warning people not to put baby in the corner because whenever I hear it I inadvertantly hear Arnold Schwarzenegger saying that immortal line for some reason and not Patrick Swayze at all. Perhaps I can create a diversion. Set fire to the kitchen maybe?

Happy New Year’s Day all – see you later droogs.

2016 and all that...

This is it, the last day of 2016 and I can almost hear the cumulative sigh of relief as this awful year passes. What a year eh? We lost so many idols, we came ‘out’ of Europe, a man named after a fart will soon hold the most powerful position on the planet and I still don’t have a flying car.

This has to be the worst year ever. Worse than the years of plague in the middle-ages, worse than the pointless devastation of life in World War One, and far worse than all those innocents killed - almost in my lifetime - in the concentration camps of the Nazis. Bloody hell, we lost David Bowie, George Michael, Prince, Princess Leia and so many others, small acts of terrorism killed hundreds (particularly in Paris), Nigel and Boris hoodwinked a nation, and our Prime Minister adorned her very long legs in leather…

Yes, probably the worst year ever - can you see the toungue in my cheek?

I'm not making light of this year's disappoinments and tradgedies, I know that I've found it a very hard year. But like most years I find myself on the cusp of the new thanking my god that the old one is over and like most years I tell myself that the New Year will be different, better, a year of change, happiness, and peace. Like most years I really know that this may or may not be true and it is just as likely that 2017 will be ten times as bad as 2016. After all it wouldn’t take much. Maybe a fart will drop one and some other fart drop another. Perhaps a new virus will stand up to our antibiotics and wipe out half of the population of the world. Could that meteor hit and… well you get the idea.

So what am I saying? I guess I am saying that life is chance, our world is chance, even chance is chance and that there is nothing we can do about it. If we get on the bus that explodes we won’t know until it happens, if we contract that flu virus that has been expected for so many years the Night Nurse (and let's not forget 'nothing' is stronger) may not cure us, and if Elton departs along a yellow brick road - never to return - that’s just life playing out its hand like a wonky candle in the wind.

In 2017 we will lose idols we love, there will be senseless murderous acts, illness will kill our friends and family (maybe even us), prices will rise or fall, politicians will politic rather than do what is needed, and our worst fears may be realised or not. So, rather than just wish you a Happy New Year in the face of chance, I wish you the strength to continue no matter what with a smile on your face, with determination and with as much happiness as you can grab.

So thanks. I value you my friends.

Swimming or drowning...

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I’ve been trying to write today but nothing will come which is strange as when I am asleep my mind is so full of thoughts and themes. It’s become harder and harder to write anything in the last twelve months. It’s as if I no longer know what I think and even Trump just seems to be an inevitable joke that is being played on us all. There was a time when my words would have raged with him, but why should I bother. A few million flies can’t be wrong can they?

It’s cumulative isn’t it? These small shocks and defeats that seem to come from nowhere but were there in the shadows of age and experience all along. It’s been a confusing and bitter year with not much accomplished and what few answers I have found have been deep at the bottom of a bottle – many bottles actually. Too much change, too much loss, too much realisation of the inevitability and powerlessness that I feel at times.

I can’t remember the last time I picked up a pen or a brush other than to sweep the floor and I find myself wondering if it really matters. I’m not going to matter in a few years anyway and who will care for my words and scribbles? Oh, I still have the odd flash of insight but it’s so much easier to concentrate on the next drink, the next meal, the next episode on TV and thinking is so very hard: far, far too challenging, so best not to do it.

I pretend that it will all be different next year and that I will hit upon a great idea, build bridges, lose weight, smile more, try to be better, write and paint and think – but will I? Can I? I seem to be ‘enjoying’ myself far too much to be bothered. I’ll have to see and hope, but hope is found in pretty small measure at the moment. 

Maybe it’s the time of year.

There was a time where I saw contentment as apathy and I think I may have been right. In my laziness I have become apathetic to the world, content to just accept whatever will be. What can I do? I’m tired of being the king of lost causes, weary of fighting for nothing. It’s time maybe to take off my Canute crown and let the waves roll over me, get wet and swim or drown.

I have no idea where I would swim to though.

Christmas Eve...

Another Christmas Eve and what a difference from the last. So many ch-ch-ch-changes. Last year there was always the slight hope of a Bowie tour and a new single Prince to listen to. I would have sworn that my mother in law Joan would be around the tree Christmas morning apologising for the presents she’d bought – and of course there was never any need for her apologies. I was looking ‘forward’ to being a European for some time in the future and a nuclear showdown was not even on the agenda. Ali might not have been punching but it was comforting to know that he was still around. Snape was still mixing his potions, Wogan was still Woganing, Gill still being outrageous, Mrs Merton was still being far too forthright, Manuel was still confused, Cohen was still being deep, Vaughn was still thinking he was Napoleon, Hilda was still singing, Burns was still spinning around, R2D2 was still beeping, Victoria was still tinkling her ivories, Daniels was still liking it (although not a lot), it was still goodnight from the last surviving Ronnie and… Should I go on?

I really did think that, with Christmas Eve so quickly approaching, it could get any worse and then an old friend and colleague left us as well leaving me with yet another hole that will never be really filled. What a bitter blow at the end of a bitter year. But life goes on and being bitter gets me nowhere.

So it’s Christmas Eve and I’m wondering what’s coming next.

Marley’s ghost maybe?

(Afterword - But as it turned out the Status Quo was not maintained)

(Afterward two - and George Michael on Christmas day.)