Mid Life Crisis

Judging by the mail I keep getting a lot of you think that the name game is how my life is reflecting my general mood, OK so sometimes it is and sometimes it's not, but usually it's a song I haven't heard in ages and it sticks in mind, sometimes the song does fit what I'm thinking, but not always and as always that's for me to know and for you lot to wonder about!

The last few blogs have come from what were supposed to be "Buck Naked and the nine stone cowboy" hopefully giving me some breathing space from the crap that is floating in my brain, as just for a change I haven't exactly been the happiest camper for a while, now some of you who actually know me, who have started reading the blog  just lately, you say don't see the person who writes the blog as the person that they know in real life and truth be told I'm not! There is probably some middle ground where you get a little bit of both characters, I try to give people what they see, a normally happy go lucky chap who in reality inside just wants to curl up and hate the world, I need to try and find something that will make me feel the opposite, because its not fair for the few satellites that have to deal with my genuine mood swings.

The song/blog title is just that, a title, I have past the mid life point of my life quite a while ago and if ever there was a time for me to have a crisis it's long gone, I'm trying to squeeze as much fun into my last fifteen years here on the planet as I can, I know I'm failing but I'm going to die trying!

What I need is something for me, does that make sound selfish,? then why not I very rarely do anything just for me! for the last twenty plus years I have tried to be something that I'm not , not in a bad way, just I realised before I met the wife that the real me doesn't quite tick all the right boxes for people to be in my life, I have always been quite insular and for those of you who followed the writings of this particular writer then you will understand why, if you don't that probably means you have stumbled along quite recently, I suggest that you read the blogs that are on here, or read the books that I have published, I really don't wish to make people unhappy I have no desire to see anybody upset or crying, either family or friends but sometimes even those close to me see a different person in front of them somebody who they think is strange, I am not just a product of my random thoughts, but in some ways these people have moulded me for good or bad, these include family, friends and workmates and for those of you who think I'm weird congratulations it took you long enough to work that particular one out!

It's not that I don't wish to be happy, trust me I really do, I'm sick of the misery that runs through these veins, its just there appears to be no known antidote for my particular case of misery, sometimes I feel like I'm a ship on the open seas looking at safe and distant shores but I'm being tortured because the ship never heads that way I'm sure there is a moral in that tale, I'm just not that clever to work it out. some people have messaged me and ask why I air my laundry the way that I do, sometimes it's because I have no other way of dealing with it, the wife even with her particular skill set sometimes wants nothing better than to clag me right in the head and rightly so. However that doesn't mean that she is always right either (ooops), what does it say about me that at the moment I am far happier at work then being in the bosom of family, I am far happier travelling on a bus full of strangers where I can hide in the middle without anyone knowing who I am, than being surrounded by a cadre of troops who potentially are sick of me and miserable ways.

Other people in my life are far from perfect and there are one or two of them I would love to see the back of (fingers crossed), but again some people would say that is me being mean, sorry if that seems to be the case I want to be happy and these people are road blocking happiness, they are forcing it to be detoured, forcing me to go the long way around and that in itself is making me unhappy, there are times I can see happiness I can actually reach out to touch it but it steps out of my grasp and walks smiling away looking over it's shoulder going "hahahahaha nearly maybe next time" so close yet so far so unfair.

Money doesn't help matters, and it raises it's head often with the level of debt (around the equivalent of the Bolivian national debt) like an albatross around this poor sailors neck,  and after the latest ship wreck while clinging to some kind of buoyancy device the rip tide pulls it away and as always I'm left floundering, sometimes people get it, sometimes  they don't, but they always seem to get their choice of life style, good luck to them, but don't rub my nose in it I don't tell you how to live your life please don't dictate to me how I have to live mine.I hear many of you saying do the crime do the time and I have done, it doesn't mean I can be happy about it all the time, at times I feel like allied forces watching as Saddam's forces torch the oilfields helpless and angry to do anything other than to watch as  those resources are burned off doing nothing but create animosity and pain.

This blog actually isn't a cry for help, I'm a big boy honestly, this blog is me trying to turn this bloody super tanker towards those safe shores, with the minimum of fuss for the crew and all that sail with me. Actually it's for my benefit the crew can abandon ship anytime they feel the need (you all know the terms and conditions that they signed on board) I certainly don't have any of the answers just shitloads of questions some which make sense (to somebody) and most of them that don't, there are people I want out of my life completely, these poison pills are starting bleed into my control mechanism and that in the end will be to the detriment of everybody, those of you who do actually know you are well aware of the fact if I'm poked enough I will cut my nose off to spite my face, this blog has been written a number of times over the last four weeks I think this is version 14, this version if it gets posted is so radically different from where I started, this is a clean version with most of the black stuff (bile) taken out (honest it is) as always I can see light at the end of the tunnel but it's a bloody long tunnel and I know what I need to attempt to do to get there, some will fall by the way side in this attempt, that is nature's way but I realise at some point this journey has to be about me and what I can get out of life (I want nothing more than to be happy on my terms and not to be dictated to like some small country being bullied by some multi national company that doesn't have my national interests at heart) , not try and be something which I'm not, at some point I have to stand on my own two feet and claim responsibility for all of my actions and not try to defend other's who are happy of my defence's when it life gets hard for them,will walk away when it suits them.

I realise that at times my scribbling's are nothing but metaphors within metaphors and for that I'm not sure how that comes about, is this a defence mechanism? or some kind of writing style? I'm afraid I have to let you lot tell me that, I have enjoyed reading and sometimes replying to all the messages that have been posted to me and some of you seem to enjoy these ravings of this lunatic and sometimes there are cracks of light that help me through the day, some of you seem to have an understanding of written English but the nuances of the written word although sometimes escape you your helpful meaning shines through like a beacon of friendship and as always I take it and wish you all well.

Me I'm ok I have good days and I have bad days, I have more bad days probably than good days than I care to mention, but the good days when they are here make it all worthwhile, why do I enjoy work more at the moment? well for me it feels like I am contributing something! and I can see those who are playing the game if I want to partake I can, where as in family life it feels like at times it is just gunboat diplomacy, some people speak in tongues and it's my inability to stick to my guns and say fuck it, I feel like the united nations constantly having my pants pulled down and getting kicked right in the ass (I have discovered I love this word it's American English, but so much better than the word arse go figure) I really do just want to make people happy and sometimes I realise it's me I should be making happy first and not them watch this space we shall see how that goes!

So if you do see me and you know me well, don't panic I'm not about to go on a killing spree, but that also doesn't mean that if you see me acting happy that I am happy, we all wear masks most of the time, most of the time I feel like the picture cover for market square heroes (go look the bugger up) by Marillion, but it what it is, some people have it far worse than me, and I'm thankful for that I use this particular medium to vent my spleen and to try and keep an even keel (why the hell do I keep reverting to nautical terms I was an army boy not a sailor!)today is a good day I intend to put my best foot forward and see how far that gets me before misery creeps up and infects the day that could be!

This shall be the blog that gets posted as its by far better than version one and I need to get it out, I need to get back to writing humorous stuff, I have been morose enough there are only about two or three of the chapters from the last book to publish and then I will have to man up and stop being a miserable git, one last time I thank you for your time and co operation but you lot really do need to switch off your computers and get the hell out into the big bad world, that is what I perceive my main issue to be, I work and then sit in my house like a prisoner not experiencing this thing we call life, I feel like I need to re-join the jet stream called life so until the next time Toodles!

When I write blogs it's usually just a stream of consciences and I then have to piece what I was trying to say together, that's why everything gets rewritten over and over again maybe I should do a book with the original ideas and then show the process? or maybe not as I'm sure there would be a place for me at my local nuthouse with a lovely white coat with long arms .....laters!

Coma

You would expect one of those earth shattering experiences that come round once in a blue moon to be imprinted into your brain for it to be fried with such intensity that you can/should remember every single second....it’s not always that way, some gigs I could even tell you what colour socks the road crew were wearing (OK so a slight exaggeration) and others I look at people with complete shock when they say that I was actually there, OK so those are few and far between. The gig I’m going to write about here is supposed to be an epic (I do have the bootleg somewhere and I still don’t remember half of the bloody thing) it is the one and only Guns and Roses (or Buns and Toasties if you are in the know) on 4-10-1987 at Newcastle City Hall, The only thing I could remember about the gig was it was a Sunday night and I had split from my first wife on the Friday oh and I felt like hammered shit!

The wife had bought the tickets as a surprise for me (a total surprise as I hated the band with a vengeance an overrated version of Aerosmith mixed with Ted Nugent’s guitar sound, go figure I was a critic even then) But life had got away from me and just when you think everything is fine and dandy, Life comes along and kicks you right in the nuts, my life had spun completely out of control, I didn’t have a clue as to what was going on or what was about to hit me and my mind was reeling with what had just happened. It’s not so bad if you see the train coming down the track and can see the wreck as it hits, but for me and everything that was going on in my life, what with my court case regarding my music publishing, and having to work a dead end job to make ends meet long days short nights you all get the picture it’s what most of us do for a living.

I also felt like shit I had been working so hard to keep a roof over our heads that and with all the travel on top of that, I just never realised how wound up I was, I guess having a husband who had become just a regular working Joe with a regular wage just didn’t cut the mustard anymore. I left with a bag of clothes and all of my Vinyl (well you have to have your priorities right!) on the Tuesday night and went back for my incidentals on the Friday (paperwork and other sundries) and although I thought I was doing the “adult” thing in reality I should have kicked off, but I didn’t, well not until I served the divorce papers which landed on Valentine’s day (but I’ m getting ahead of myself) I headed back to my mother’s house who graciously accepted me back into her house(even though the council were a major pain) and lay this weary body down and went into survival mode, everything caught up with me and that’s when life really kicked me in the nuts, I came down with “man-flu” totally wiped out and I stayed in my pit for all of the Saturday (WTF has this got to do with Buns and Toasties I hear you ask ...well hang on I’m getting there) on the Sunday I struggled downstairs had something to eat (toast) and climbed into a lovely warm bath and washed my sins away, clean clothes and feeling clean in yourself is one of life’s little luxuries I don’t know why everybody hasn’t clicked onto to it!

I decided to sort out the paperwork I had picked up on the Friday night and the first thing that was spied were the guns and roses tickets (ooooh a chance to make some money and get back at the wife) so I headed into town and headed into Trillians, I soon sold the tickets to a couple of meat heads who gave me twenty pounds for the two tickets, not bad on an initial investment of nothing! I bumped into some friends who I hadn’t seen in a while who were on the guest list and there was a spare ticket, I was now at a loose end so I thought “why the hell not”   we headed in while the support act Faster Pussycat were already on the stage and I lasted all of one song, heading downstairs to the bar and having a bit chat, it was at this point life ran up behind me and kicked me once again right in the balls! With what had been going on in my life, no food for three of four days and then about six pints on top of all the crap running through this tired little body (and it was little at the time I weighed all of about nine stone ah the good old days) well you can imagine the rest thankfully I was aware of my impending doom. so I was soon in the toilets, when everything came back up (not good I can assure you) it was over as soon as it began, I made my way back to the gang and people could see I wasn’t in great shape my mate Bob said he would take me home as  I was in no shape to get on public transport, the only problem, Bob was taking another couple home at the end of the gig, so I would have to find a hidey hole away from the general population, thankfully another friend managed to get me in upstairs as the balcony wasn’t open, so as he sat there taking photographs (he did have a pass as he was taking pictures of the whole tour for the record label) I lay on the floor and felt like shit. So what should have been a momentous gig (and I feel I have seen one or two) was a pretty shitty night, which did have one or two pluses to it.

What was hilarious was the singer of Faster Pussycat having a hissy fit because he was wearing beetle crushers the type of things teddy boys used to wear and people in the crowd kept pawing them a truly hilarious moment, but when the future of rock n roll hit the stage I was flat out on the floor, even the staff were a little worried (probably thought I was a junkie by the look of me hahahaha) so much that they kept checking on me and bringing me water every now and again, we stayed for nearly an hour then thankfully Bob and his passengers had had enough, we left before everybody else did, what were the pluses I hear you ask, well I stood on my own two feet and went back out into the big bad world, I reconnected with some old friends and I made twenty quid selling tickets which probably, technically in a court of law were not mine (ooops) the down side was I puked my guts out for about twenty minutes (there’s nothing worse).

So when people reminisce about the night guns and roses destroyed Newcastle and tell the tales of Waxy sweating on them or whatever I really didn’t give a rats ass because I was upstairs in the balcony sweating like a malaria victim having nothing but a good time! But you get bad moments in your life this wasn’t one of those times believe it or not I still had a great time even though I lost the contents of my (skinny) belly! Did I ever feel like going to see them again no as a band they still leave me stone cold good luck if you like them, they just aren’t my cup of tea, oh and the ex - wife never missed the tickets at all so that was a result all around, a hollow victory with what she won from me but at the time that twenty pounds felt like the world at the time!

 

And so the blogs keep coming thank you for all the kind comments and shares, the numbers are through the roof and for some reason are heading back into the territory of the old blog (consistent triple digits) so thanks for that and as always the name game is in play and oh so easy! and thank you to Noya from Japan who wrote a 3000 word email as to why she loved the blog (the poor girl) ah well a long weekend ahead lets see what trouble me and The Tee Hee Club can get up to, so until the next time Toodles!

The Party's Over

We all went to parties as kids and as we got that little bit older and into our teens drink reared it’s sweet perfumed head, not loads of the stuff, a bottle of cider here and a bottle of cider there, we had a riotous time some good some bad mainly good I hasten to add, we never caused trouble thankfully the same circle of friends and we all got on well, ok for most of the time we did.

We started in our early teens and it was small window of time for a small group of friends between eight and never anymore than fourteen and over the years we had some great times, the best of the times and although they are not in my life now we never parted on bad terms we just drifted like the great seas do.

Ath was my best friend for years (and in some ways I still think of him as he still is, although that ship definitely sailed but that’s another story) we were inseparable we did everything together, we were similar, but oh so different and we sort of balanced each other out, he had more patter than ten days worth of rain, wasn’t interested in sports and wanted to be an international rock star he even wrote it on his careers form! that didn’t go down well, we had each other’s back, and for a long time his family were my surrogate family, his mum and dad brought me up as one of their own.

Ath had a natural patter with girls, something I didn’t but I was cute enough to have girls ask me out (thank you lord thank you) I was also more of a gentleman, you ladies do like bad boys, so there was an opposites type of thing going on, consequently lots of girls spoke to me trying to figure him out (hahahaha) and we got on with our lives, and parties were definitely our scene, so much so that our older brothers both started hanging out with us all of a sudden hahahaha but thats another story.

We both liked Brown Ale, it was strong and got you drunk, and it was a drink kids didn’t drink, I have had my beard since I was thirteen, so you can guess whose job it was to go and buy the beer and we didn’t make the mistake of trying to buy cider that just got you caught!  I would buy four bottles of brown ale then turn up at one of our parties and then hide it and drink everybody else’s drink recover ours and finish the night walking home with a bottle in hand, damn they were indeed good times.

Now why am I telling you all this well simply because we found a perfect hiding place, we used to hide our drink in the oven, trust me kids never ever look in the oven so consequently we never ever lost any beer well apart from once which I intend to tell you all about now.

We had left school and did what we did, I went in the army came out of the army and basically had the same group of friends, but as I said generally one by one we drifted, after the army if you have read the previous books and blogs you may remember that I was a major pain in the arse a long haired drunk but again not a malicious bone in my body, so Ath invited me to a party of a girl he was mad keen to get to know and me being the good friend I was the backup we hit the local pub and I met all of Ath’s new friends a canny bunch and the night progressed (we were 19 by the way not old has beens not yet anyway) we headed to the party not before buying our usual four bottles of brown ale, now at this juncture I have to admit that my motives weren’t exactly innocent, my former girlfriend was going to be there and I wished to appear contrite (pissed more likely) and when we headed  down the path we found out that the party was to celebrate this girls younger sisters birthday (freaky they were both born two years apart on the same day) so we go there and a whole lot of 17 year olds were having fun and we go in and play nice (I may have been a drunk but I wasn’t a stupid drunk) the girl’s parents turned up at the same time as we did and good times were had (well ok for just a wee while longer) as usual we had hid our drink in our usual place, then went off in search of other peoples drink, we were like blood hounds an a fugitives trail and we usually always found the mother lode, we had been there about an hour (remember this is when pubs closed at ten thirty) the mother decided the children needed some food to sober the kiddies up(oops) my former girlfriend turned up with her new boyfriend, who in actual fact turned out to be ok we had a laugh and knew that the world had turned, when all of a sudden we thought the I R A had turned up in Castleside, there was a massive explosion from the kitchen (oh shit) thankfully there wasn’t anybody in the kitchen, it turns out some fuck nuggets had hidden some beer in the oven and mum in her infinite wisdom was going to warm some pies for the party guests and hadn’t checked the oven before turning it on (double oops!) well that was the party over. Me and Ath as the oldest and (ahem) most responsible helped put the world to rights, I certainly sobered up quickly and we even went back the next day to see if there was anything we could do to sort out the mess, Talk about guilty conscience we even gave the father £60 and said we had had a whip round making sure that people had put in (in reality just the two buck nuts who had hide their beer there).

As I said we weren’t bad people and we weren’t about causing grief or desolation for people who would gladly put us up for a party, not like now somebody has a quiet party it’s all over farcebook and a thousand shit heads turn up and destroy the place. The next party we went to and actually the last one, we actually left the house cleaner than when we got there we were good kids from the right side of the tracks we were brought up to play nice!     

Train kept a rolling

I'm not a happy person, there I have said it, it's not a surprise I never have been, but I have never gone out of my way too make anyone else unhappy!

The response that I had to the blog which was about suicide got quite amazing results numbers wise, it also got me quite a few questions, which I have thought long and hard about, none of them trivial and the genuine response from you guys out there has been heart warming. so I thought I had better try and respond to some of the questions and give a definition of what it is I experience. Everybody is different and judging by some of the mails I have received, some of you have your own demons.

First and foremost everyday is different, my aim is to wake up happy, if I wake up happy that's a result as far as I'm concerned I ask for nothing else out of life, not one solitary thing all I want is to open my eyes and be glad that I have done that, if I'm not then I can guarantee you my day is unlikely to get any better, thankfully this very rarely happens. the best way I can describe it is to say I'm a six cylinder engine and one occasionally misfires if I drop below that then there will be issues.

Everyday I feel like a sheet of glass that has been dropped on the floor and I spend the rest of the day trying to put it back together and as always there will be bits missing! some days are more fragile than others, some days I can take on the world and just say fuck it. I question everything internally every gesture, every bit of speech looking for sarcasm that isn't there but I have to confirm that it wasn't there, I don't think I really like me, my looks I'm not bothered about, my hair (or lack of it)is actually quite fashionable, my health gives me cause for concern especially as I get older everyday, I worry have I contributed to my demise over the last twenty years by trying to please the family and not me, I'm not selfish and when I am I have deep panic attacks as to what the world and his dog thinks of me, why do I do this I have no idea I also have no answers to the myriad of questions that tumble through brain.

I suffered from PTSD as a result of an accident in my time in the armed forces and I suffered quite badly(if you have read any of the things I have done it has been a recurring theme) the first ten years were the worst and very few people were aware of my issues, as I get older I find it easier to talk about my situation (and thanks to  the blog I'm able to write my version of events) and the real hero of the hour has to be my wife, who over the years has been my rock, something which I'm eternally grateful for, by stripping back those issues though I have discovered other issues that have because I left them alone, they have destroyed my confidence in so many ways, made me an incredibly angry person at times and when I was younger suicidal, thankfully times have changed suicidal thoughts are the furthest thing from my mind (so you can all rest quietly on that one) at times resentment courses through my veins at a fast rate of knots for no other reason than a mild chemical imbalance in my brain.

I saw a head doctor for about ten years after I came out of the forces and the first couple were mandatory , I had no say in the matter and they were within their rights to lock me up if I didn't attend and although I hated them at the time they did help, how I was never arrested in that time I have no idea, as the amount of alcohol consumed was staggering and the damage I inflicted on  my body was staggering as well, you become a person of extremes with both high's and lows, too much exercise trying to blot everything else out was a splurge of extremes, to this day I over eat when I'm emotional, all in all it's just as bad as drinking just without the belligerence (mind you I don't need drink to be like that allegedly) I struggle to make friends and because I'm a very shy person (really) I tend to overcompensate and be loud, I then hate myself as first impressions  last and I never know if people like me for me or because they know the wife! I have very few close friends now (they know who they are ....Tee Hee) I don't make friends easily as I certainly have trust issues!

I used to go walkabout when my stress levels where through the roof just head out with a bag and a windswept thumb and see where I landed and I have never done it since being with the wife, I sometimes think it might have helped our relationship if I had, I know I'm not the easiest person to live with and I have tried to conform to her ideal for a family life with better than average results but sometimes I want to fight back from the straight jacket of conformity, to go for a walk by myself would be nice, but sins of previous partners come and back to bite me and that causes me concern, as we get older we get set in our ways and that's never a good thing. I miss heading to god knows where and just enjoying the solitude, my wife doesn't understand this and try's to get a handle on me, but sometimes I think just fit a tracker to me and be done with it I know I have trust issues but Jeez just relax and breathe sometimes! I work I come home that's my life and yes sometimes I have issues is it any wonder?

I'm happiest when I'm alone without any interaction or (internal) criticism and sometimes a lottery win so I could buy the family the home they deserve and for me to live in a man cave sounds fab, but a pipedream that the world and his dog would never understand, I know some people struggle to understand why I whinge (yes I was told that I'm a whinging Pom but not in a horrible way) to be honest I don't and if I did it would be far more noticeable, I'm not delicate I'm not broken, I just came without a set of instructions and at times I struggle to work out all my functions. I'm well aware that there are people out there with worse issues than me.

If you don't know me and if you where to meet me, you probably think that there is sod all the matter and you would be right, what I suffer from is in my brain, my lack of confidence my inability to maintain human contact, my desire for solitude is personal you will never understand the same as why I would never understand you or your issues, all I can ask is that you help me along my path as sure as I would help you along yours!

I wrote this blog four days ago and it was probably the bleakest thing I have ever written and I have rewrote it nine times since stripping away as much of the blackness as I can, you don't need to know all of my problems, you don't need to know why I have a low self opinion of myself, hey I don't understand most of it myself,  the amount of concern for me has been touching but as always I'm a work in progress and all I can do is take one step at a time I have no other option, one day I will try and please me and not everyone else in my life one day I will get the life I deserve, and be grateful for everyday that I have had since that fateful day in 1982 when the world stopped and restarted with me upside and in bits.

Everyday is a new step forward and with the best intention it should be my best foot forward, sometimes it's not if I stumble I will thank those that help, because in their own ways certain individuals do help me, they don't know it but they do, all I do know is that I won't be beaten I will win through, I took medication once (valium) and hated it, it works for some not for others I try and do my best everyday. I'm not a happy person and I don't begrudge you or yours the happiness you have, good luck to you and all who sail with you, my depression when it's here is like a train and this keeps rolling with no brakes, life is not a rehearsal, we are here but for a brief moment, the only person who beats us is us, everything everybody else does, actually does matter, stay strong stay true even in your darkest moments there are people who have your interests at heart, people who want to keep you from harms way and away from the abyss of nothingness.

I have had dark days before and I know (I'm not a fool) I will have dark times again, and hopefully I will pick myself up and move on to the best of my ability, my intention is and always be to not drag anybody down with me, this month has been the longest sustained piece of unhappiness I have had in a long time nothing major, just the world spinning and me not able to find a safe harbour, I thank you all for your love to all the lovely people in Australia, America, Canada, Europe, Japan and here close to home, people who I never met but the warmth you have passed to me has lit my path and has helped, today is not my best day but it's not my worst either, if I could thank you all individually I would,  kind words do help, damn I sound like a bloody hippy until the next time Toodles!









  

Asylum

Ok when I was a kid I was probably like all kids a major pain in the ass, I certainly didn’t intend to be, but times weren’t the best for the Irwin family on a regular basis, as always we got on with it and we were probably sheltered from a lot of it by our mother, me and my brother worked as well as doing the usual kid stuff and we usually gave half of our wages from various paper rounds and other stuff  to our mother to help pay the bills. We had no problem with that and the rest we usually spent it on music related items albums or gigs, things certainly did not cost as much back in the day (damn I hate that expression) and we were frugal so that what we had could go as far as possible.

If I wanted to go see a band I usually had to tag along with my brother, thats if it was a band that he wanted to see and sometimes if it was a band I wanted to go and see and he didn’t he wouldn’t, you know typical brother stuff sometimes I could tag along with friends safety in numbers that kind of thing and my mother was ok with it (actually there wasn’t much my mother didn’t object to we had a pretty good upbringing that way) so I was able to see some bands that I would never have got to see thanks to my brother the Stranglers Judas Priest and Blue Oyster Cult to name but a few.

1980 was a different kind of year, it was the year I spread my wings and starting doing what I wanted, and sometimes just sometimes my brother tagged along with me for a change, again nothing big just a boy starting to have his own identity (allegedly) and once or twice I went to see bands by myself and claimed to be staying at friends homes that kind of thing, not far from home but I would have to hang around in Malbourgh Crescent bus station dodging the patrolling police cars, in case they thought I was up to no good, that only happened two or three times and thankfully when the weather was good, I was quite lucky in catching last buses home and then sneaking in late, when my mother who slept very lightly would choose to ignore my supposedly quiet entrances.

At school there were actually only two of us who were into rock music 99.9% of the rest of our friends like football and some liked girls, so we were looked at as though we were seriously damaged, bringing records to school so we could disappear at lunch time to play these obscure bands, hells bells I remember Iron Maiden before they even had tattoos hahaha I was still influenced by some degree by what my brother listened to whether he bought it or borrowed from his friends, with him being three years older, I was a few steps ahead of the game, I can still remember certain albums that we respectively bought (UFO Obsessions being one of the most vivid ones that sticks in my mind) Kiss Alive was a favourite and in a time before MTV and the such like it was usually the album covers and indeed the music that kicked serious amounts of arse, Wishbone ash live dates,I could go on but the blog has to be under four thousand pages hahaha and although I hate to say it now Pink Floyd Animals I loved it at the time (I have played it since and have realised hormones really do screw you up big time) and on the strength of it I went out and bought The Wall  on the day of release and here’s the naughty thing I bought a ticket for their concert at Earls Court in the August (I have no idea, why I just did) I bought The Wall at Ten o’clock and sold it by four o’clock  I hated it with the exception of one song (Hey You) I thought the album was absolute Cack.(still do by the way)

The bug bear was I still had the concert ticket, and I knew I wasn’t going to able to off load that to anybody who I knew so I was stuck with it. The plan was a classic “I’m staying at Ath’s” (my best friend) and I knew that this wouldn’t raise too much suspicion so the plan was I was going to stay at Ath’s on the Thursday night as we had a school trip that meant I had to be there earlier than normal (we did have but I wasn’t interested in the trip so I took the paperwork home and said I would pay for the trip which technically wasn’t a lie hahaha) so the plan was put into action I didn’t know that the city hall did a trip so I even booked a trip on the national express I even paid for the ticket by postal order (the good old days) and had it sent to Ath’s house.

I was going to have to get to Newcastle Gallowgate bus station as it was an overnight bus to London that would get me to London at about eight in the morning and it wasn’t too far from the venue and if I was quick coming out the return was on the overnight bus back to Newcastle stopping off at all manner of places that I hadn’t heard of before this was going to be my biggest adventure I had only been to Newcastle by myself about a dozen times, I was really a fecking carrot cruncher, so the lie in motion I said goodbye to my mother and set off, not knowing that as I left the top of the street (can you see what’s going to happen now) Ath being the dingbat and scatterbrain that he was came up the street and came through the door as I was climbing on the bus out of Hicksville! Oops busted but this was the days before mobile phones and we certainly didn’t have a car so my mother couldn’t haul ass and kick mine back home.

I got to Newcastle in plenty of time then boarded a nearly empty bus that set off just after 11.00 at night and I was like a kid (hang on I was a kid) on Christmas eve and I stayed awake through all the stops watching people getting on and off, snoozing and generally witnessing life for the first time without the aid of a safety net. We got to London just after seven to a lovely sunny day (that didn’t last) I found a cafe and had my first ever encounter with a full English, I wandered the streets, not to far I just wanted to find my bearings and I enjoyed my first ever Friday in London, the day I have to admit was quite uneventful, around dinner time I joined the queue for the gig so as not look like a fish out of water (which I was) and thankfully had a canny day with people who I don’t remember their names although I do remember them, they could have been a bunch of miserable twunts but they weren’t and we were soon let in and sat through the gig, which if I’m honest I didn’t really get! As a spectacle it was great, but I was bored and was thinking of the travel back to the heathen lands in the north. I left just before the end and was the first person on the bus and I was asleep before we hit the suburbs, the trip back was nothing, the thrill was gone, I arrived back in a wet and windy Newcastle to be shook awake by the bus driver, I made my way to Malbourgh Crescent to get a bus home and bounced through the door to be met by my mother who bounced me straight back out as I didn’t have time to lie to say that the trip was great etc, I was busted bang to rights and she read me the riot act I was grounded for the weekend, I promised I wouldn’t do it again and we got on with our lives.

The problem was I had bought a ticket to see Kiss at Wembley arena in four weeks time how the hell was I going to do this, I mean a promise is a promise and to my mother too! It was decided I would do the only honourable thing and ....LIE!

Nearly four weeks after the Floyd gig I was laying the ground rules with Ath because we were going to use the same lie except I was actually staying at Ath’s on the Sunday night, Because both Ath’s parents worked and were out the door before we got up they didn’t see me get the bus to Newcastle and wander up to the city hall as I had realised that it was easier to go with the City Hall. Again it’s at this point I should have paid more attention to the manager of the City Hall getting interviewed about the amount of people going to see Kiss in London or the fact that the Look North camera actually had me in view as I climbed the bus in the days before videos I would have loved to see the evidence, unfortunately for me my mother who watched Look North religiously say me in plain view and she prepared her punishment for my arrival home.

The journey wasn’t too bad full of older people who at the time I didn’t know but as the years went by I would recognise them stumbling around the same pubs and venues, I grabbed a window seat and was sat in amongst a group of older Scottish people who again were pleasant and took me in to the fold, one of the guys Bob asked me if I had seen Kiss before and I said I hadn’t and he advised me not look at the stage when they come on as it can get quite bright (why do I never fecking listen) the rest of the journey was good fun but I stayed in the back ground especially when the drink was being passed around I needed a clear head for the day ahead, we got there about five in the afternoon and this time we all just trooped straight to the venue, this gig was different people jumping about making lots of noise and all though I missed the support band (Girl) because of the queues to the toilets even there I could hear the boos when they did their cover that Kiss classic “Do you love me?”.

I sat in my seat with various people off the bus and then it all went black (for a few seconds) and like an idiot I stared at the stage and wallop they set off so many flash bombs I was blinded for a good five minutes (total panic) thankfully I calmed down by about track three which if memory serves me right was Strutter and the night was over in a flash, was it any good I would like to say yes, but in actual fact I never really got over the shock and awe and most of my memory is probably pieced together by the memories of the people on the bus on the way home, although I do recall that I was happy that they had done the opening track off the new album “Is that you?” again I got home on the Tuesday morning managed to get to school and  relive the previous twenty four hours and by the time I headed home I was pretty much shattered, as I got off the bus at the top of my street I knew something was wrong because I could see my mother looking for me out of her bedroom window, I hadn’t told my brother and Ath hadn’t gone to the house, how the hell did she know, all was revealed when I got through the door and she went ballistic (which in truth she deserved to) and it was also the last time my mother ever hit me.

A sorry end to a great trip away and one in which I never repeated while I was at school, my mother had a long word with Ath’s mother and she monitored my every move and for a while took me home every time I stayed (which was a lot) I only found out it was the way of proving that I stayed there and not buggered off to see some band. We got over it and finally settled into a better relationship, it was the last time I ever lied to my mother and the last time I travelled away for a gig unless I went with friends and there was a group of us, it wasn’t the fact that I had gone to these gigs , mind you she would have gone through the roof if she had ever found out that I had gone by myself, it was the fact that I had missed a couple of days at school (as if two days would have helped hahahaha) so we agreed to be (ahem) more honest with each other and we got on with our lives.

Did I ever go and see Pink Floyd again erm that would be a big fat no, but Kiss hahaha as many times as I could there’s only a few times since that I haven’t been to see them and I have never travelled out of the area again ...go figure!

Silver

On days like these, we should all realise that we are all extraordinary but that all of our lives are indeed ordinary! I sit here after reading that Tony Scott the director has jumped to his death after learning that he had inoperable brain cancer(allegedly), I’m surprised that the trolls haven’t popped up yet saying that he was a coward, who knows how we would deal with something as profoundly evil as this (both the cancer and the trolls) what must have been going through his mind to jump from the bridge in which the safety barrier is high enough to give a normal person a nose bleed, I’m not writing this to be glib I’m aware the wake of devastation that a suicide can bring to family and friends, his two lovely little boys what must they think now? how will they ever come to terms with this. I had an uncle who after nearly twenty years of having bad news thrown at him on a continuous basis, was told “I’m sorry you have a tumour that’s in a place we can’t reach (his brain) and you only have six weeks to live”! what was his reply (and the reason why I loved him so much) “I’ll tell you when I’m going to cut the silver thread” he survived for nearly eighteen months and at the end he told us “I’ve had enough” but he decided, he fought it every single step of the way. It was on his terms or not at all, what makes some people determined to do that and for others to climb a safety barrier and jump.

What would I do? I have no bloody idea hopefully the later rather than the former, I know I’m a coward and the thought of cutting that damned thread does not fill me with a glow that is happy! But to want to give up on all the good things and yes even though I know I can be a misery, there has been some good things in amongst those days of past and you never know hopefully there will be many more to come. Why do people do what they do? what drives those people who seem to have everything (Gary Speed springs to mind) why do they think that it’s time to move on, shuffle off whatever way you  want to describe it, Has it ever crossed my mind yes a few times (and thankfully not in a long while)  with me I was just screwed up with no direction and I really couldn’t see a way for life to get better, what did I know and here I am (thankfully) a happier soul trying to wring as much enjoyment out of life as possible, time flies (as you can tell by the lines on my face) and no matter what you do or where ever you travel you decide your path you decide when you are happy. We are not all wired up the same way, what makes me sad doesn’t make other people sad and likewise what makes them sad probably doesn’t even register on any of the scales that affect me.

All life is precious but each person has their own melody to dance to life’s song and we cannot perceive what drives them to do what anyone does, we cannot be held accountable for that person who decided enough is enough I have lost some good friends to suicide, people who I loved dearly and I was devastated when they did what they did do I blame them not really, I know what they were going through and maybe in an earlier part of their life it might have just washed off them but at that particular moment, all the planets aligned, on a dark night the boat they were sailing even possibly on a calmed sea just wasn’t enough to give them peace of mind, the shoreline however close wasn’t close enough to offer mercy safety or kind deeds.

Do they not care? Well of course they do, but to them the cosmos has played one trick too many and they don’t want sympathy they have decided that they have a right to be free from whatever demons torture them and only them nobody would perceive the crap that has gone on in my head nor would I ever turn round and say “hey I know the answer” these people are at their lowest point, they have just decided that the world doesn’t care at all and now is the time to get the hell out of dodge! They have given the world one last chance and not been happy with the response, the people I know who have committed suicide had experienced a great loss in their life and no matter what love was projected to them, they had decided there was nothing we could do for them, they didn’t blame us they probably only blamed themselves.

The silver thread is something that I believe in (I have no idea why) it’s what I think life is about and some threads are thicker than others (it’s a theme that is stuck in my head of late) we are who we are, some happy some sad some good some evil it’s a fact of life. None of those emotions should be enough to drive you to want to end your own life, but the fact of the matter is they do, for good reasons or bad for selfish reasons whatever the reason for the perception that you want to choose the manner of your own demise or the fact that some disease is eating away at you, be strong, think of the people you will leave behind, the young ones the old ones the ones who brighten up your day be it a loved one pet or human, think of the darkness you leave behind, for them a tortuous road of misunderstanding that no matter what happens they will never understand, the only person who will accept it rightly or wrongly will be you.

I destroyed fourteen previously written chapters for being bleak and desolate; I hope that I haven’t taken you all on a side tour of misery that wasn’t my intent I had written an unusually chirpy blog and was reading the news on my laptop and the title jumped into my head and wouldn’t be shook loose,  I know this will be polished (however badly) and will be kept, there has to be some balance to a book or indeed a series of books/blogs that is basically me trying (and not always succeeding) to understand the meaning of life and what the great thread we have has in store for me as a person.

Suicide is not a good thing for whatever reason, but at that particular person at that split second it’s all that matters, the scars don’t matter anymore, the points of the compass has brought you to the point, and then in a split second you are gone from the consciousness what I will say is that most people won’t understand and the memory of you will be tainted with the disappointment that you couldn’t share, that you couldn’t talk your way out of this, and the people who you think don’t love you will always love although sadness will be there instead of those special memories that should be the first ones that spring to mind.

My uncle I miss (more than I thought) but it’s his strength and his humour that I remember, more than the fact that I cried the last time I saw him and although the tears are streaming down my face as I type this it’s tears of all the good times the good memories, rightly or wrongly he chose his path and fuck the world, if the time ever rears its head I hope I have just a little of his strength to do the right thing and live for as long as I can to squeeze just that little bit extra out of the cosmos.

Running up the hill

Some days are better than others, and this has all of a sudden turned into one of the not so happy ones, I feel as though I have been running up the proverbial hill in treacle, I wish I knew as to why I get like this and thankfully it happens less as I get older (and boy do I feel old at the moment) but the best way to describe it is like the sun going down.

Although I thought of myself as a happy go lucky kid I did at times have my “dark” moments thankfully I had some great friends who did their level best at steering me the hell out of harm’s way, my brother on the other hand had a tendency to point me back in the direction of harm, not for any bad reason it’s just because he could, I did some pretty sneaky things to him as well and none of it was spiteful, we were just brothers riffing on each other and if I was in a particular bad place my brother knew when and where to stop and to help me weigh anchor away from the storm clouds up ahead.

In the bad old days it was drink related and lots of it and not a lot would stop me, now it appears that it’s food when I have a drink I get the munchies when I’m down I get the munchies if I’m alone I get the munchies I’m sure you see get the picture! When the wife shouts at me if a butterfly crosses my path well if I could catch it I would snack on the bloody thing, my moods tend to revolve around food and not in a good way. I often think I should try hypnotherapy just to see if that would help! But I would probably snack while waiting my turn.

As I sit and tap away at the keyboard it’s mid July the weather hasn’t been great (not that I mind) and although life isn’t great work, health and various other issues are colliding together and although not enough to cause issues by themselves I feel as though I am being dragged down with the weight of all the universe (damn I can over exaggerate) and although I’m sinking I’m determined to be a better person, to be a healthier happier person, now the problem is I haven’t got a clue how I can achieve that goal but it’s something to aim for.

Now what the hell has that got to do with running up a hill, well when I was younger and fitter I was happier, a lot of the exercise I did was solo (careful you pervs) running canoeing that kind of thing but at the time being fitter I was happier and by contrast I’m now fatter so therefore unhappier, even I can do the math (and trust me I’m crap at math) does this mean that I intend to go back to doing all the exercise that I used to (I wish) but even I know I don’t stand a cat in hell’s chance, what with my knees and my chest pains I’m heading to the knackers yard (that’s if they will have me) and I’m under no illusion of how hard it will be! I have however got off the spiral of overeating once and lost four stone so it’s a simple case of me getting my finger out and sticking with it, I do believe that I will and can do it I just need to find the right combination to help.

There has been two saving graces in this maelstrom of being a big girls blouse, one has been my writing, my blogging my ability to type shite on a regular basis, and to even have people come back and say that they are enjoying it, you have no idea how much that has helped, how faceless people who I will never meet in the real world have said some lovely things about me, things I don’t believe in myself but others do! The second one and just as equally important and I know I have a tendency to be more flippant is The Tee Hee Club, this insane mad bunch of people have unknowingly brought me back from the depths of despair on many an occasion, not even with a word sometimes it’s just a look sometimes it’s listening to the banter (I don’t even have to join in) people who in reality do not have to pander to me being a depressing little twerp so again if I can hit the right combination happiness awaits.

I know I can be positive but for some strange reason (probably because it’s easier) I have become a doom and gloom merchant! From now I intend(hahahaha) to be a better and a happier person and so to do that even with my knees I intend to run up the bloody hill and if you get in my way well I can’t promise anything, at least I will try not to eat you because that would just be wrong. Everybody knows I’m a good boy and I don’t do anything wrong or bad I’m a manic depressive not a serial killer..........I hope!

The writing will help I know as will the lunatics that I call friends and I suppose thats all that matters no matter how down I get the world still keeps turning and there will always be people worse off than me, I mean I could be short fat and ba.....hang on a second! If you do see me running up that hill please pass me some water (and not chocolate) and you might just see a happier and hopefully thinner person.