Juggernaut

I was being a media whore this morning, I commented that I wondered why life had to be so complicated? Well its complicated because we make it so! as simple as that, if only we could make life so easy.

I have had nearly ten days holiday and although you could say that I have been recharging my batteries, my soul hasn't been anywhere near replenished as I required but as always I jump ahead of bloody everything!

We had as always cunning plans, all we needed were good winds to carry us to our destination, we arranged to meet some good people in The Central Bar in Gateshead, we had an afternoon to ourselves with money in our pocket and a ticket each to go and see Fish on the night time, The Central was a bit of a downer, only in the sense that I wasn't able to get the beer that I wanted as it sells speciality ales, I was hoping for some Sam Smiths Brown Ale and the ditsy (and I do mean this in the best way) barmaid promised to deliver but failed miserably. I ended up with something else Pit Prop or some other type, which was OK but not what I had anticipated, (OK it was Shot Blast) after the first uninspired bottle, I stuck to the black stuff and although I had been like a kid all year for the gig, fate as always was around the corner ready to kick me squarely in the bollocks!

We all seemed uninspired with the bar in general so we headed off to the Free Trade over the river actually in Newcastle, I decided to stick to the black stuff as a safe bet, the company was still good and our ranks were soon to be swelled by one more, who had to go on a treasure hunt to find us (and his perseverance paid off in the end) but I was having issues, I have no idea what set the ball spinning but I was soon sitting in amongst people who were great company, but I was suffering panic and anxiety attacks all at the same time (and yes there is a difference) thankfully the wife soon had me in hand (not nearly as rude as it sounds) and I was trying to keep a grip on the tenuous link between sanity and just wanting to go howl at the moon (which would have been hard as it was still only the afternoon). I rallied and although I wasn't perfect company, I did try and hopefully didn't spoil anyone's afternoon, mind you when I decided to buy some crisps to throw onto the table as a peace offering, I thought I should cater to the throng as not everybody has the same bland taste buds that me and the wife have, I had spied some chilli crisps behind the bar and nearly died at the price (cough splutter £1.60) but duly bought some, it was worth it just to see the looks on people faces as they tucked in hahahahaha that cheered me up no end!

We sat out as long as the weather permitted, but we soon headed indoors, my head was still suffering from wave upon wave of abject misery, whatever had been set off was determined to have a go, and it was hanging on like some demented dervish, and again the wife had to sort me out, nothing drastic but reality slips away and the wife for some reason knows how to bring me back, at this point I knew I was having possibly the worst episode in nearly twenty years and all I could think was I need professional help with this, over and over again, thankfully as it subsided to a dull roar after many deep breaths we were able to conclude our shenanigans without any more hiccups.

We said our fond farewells and headed back across the water, to The Sage the space age building that sits on the south side of the banks of the Tyne river. We got there as the gig was striking up and we soon nestled into a good spot, then the darkness enveloped me and the gig I had been waiting for all year slipped from my grip like sand between a child's fingers, I floated in and out and although I (think I) enjoyed the gig to be honest I'm not sure, the one stand out track was the Marillion B-side Freaks, which is a favourite of mine it just seem so apt, the darkness afforded me a mask of confidentiality that I was thankful for, but we headed out as the last number started, claimed our merchandise and headed home to Gimpsville.

The short drive (the wife was driving hells bells try and keep up) home was punctuated as usual by the wife trying to understand the episodic nature of my excursions to the other side of sanity, to be met by me not being able to answer, Although I had decided it was time to ask for professional help, was this a step in the right direction? (hahahaha) we got home to our place of abode and we headed upstairs to try and gleam sense of direction with some slumber, It seems that I required more than I thought as I slept later than I had for years, I was still in my pit approaching eleven bells, unheard of in modern times, I awoke to see my mobile blinking at me saying that the outside world had been trying break into my safe haven like Freddie Kruger, a number of people were wondering why I wasn't at work (I had cancelled my last holidays) it appears that some people must have lost some money in the sweepstake that I would turn up anyway........I would have if I hadn't slept in!

The wife had already tried to get me a doctors appointment (for me? why the hell would I.....ah yeah now I remember) I needed to see a certain doctor as I have a number of skin tags that are bloody annoying, so I was hoping to kill two birds with one stone so to speak, the doctor was going to ring me, about an hour later the phone and rang and I was left all alone to answer the devils instrument an appointment was soon sorted for the skin tags and the last question "anything else to resolve"? "erm no that's everything thanks" fate had smacked my fingers and my courage slinked back into the shadows were it has seemed to live of late. I have another opportunity to approach the subject when I actually go see the nice man in the white coat (figuratively speaking).

The week dragged on and I hid, sorry but it's true I hid for all intents and purpose that's what us cowards do the juggernaut (see it creeps in at some point) that we called life had me beat, I was fighting to the best of my ability but it was slow and tortuous, we arrived at the mid point of the week and the gig the wife had been looking forward to, I wasn't going to stick my head in the way of  this train (or was I?). We handed the Hurricane over to his disgruntled mother and we headed to the pub (where else)for some of the black stuff and some eats, which we soon got stuck into, but then the day took an unexpected turn, as it went ever so slightly wrong and every breath I took was the cause of all of the problems(NOT) thankfully we sat and talked like adults, something we rarely seem to do anymore, whose to blame nobody but us in reality, something we need to do more often as long we both see both sides of the each story.

Our youngest turned up with Lady J being the responsible adult/taxi driver (I know I will beaten for the responsible adult remark) and we headed off to the arena with the wife doing the shaky walk as it was her name SMOR had put on the guest list, you know the walk when you don't know if your name is actually going to be on the list or not (been there, done that, so many times!) but thankfully the tickets (and passes) were there, as always though fate decreed that I would be punished as I had left Michael Devin's present from the wife in the car, and guess what the wife resorted to type and called me a Dick! no surprise there then, I was able to prove her wrong and retrieve said present during Tommy Aldridge's drum solo, Thunder opened and as always were fantastic, a quick turnaround and Whitesnake arrived and delivered a great set and a surprise with Bernie Marsden on stage for two songs, our seats were fantastic apart from the Giants who stood in front of me and one smelly American who jumped into some empty seats who the wife told to jog on! (I'm far too much of a gentleman to go into the gory details lets just say I could be called as a witness for crimes against smelly American's).

The road crew then started to pull down the set in time for Journey but we had done what we had intended too and headed to do the meet and greet back stage, which was really just the usual suspects,  but only three band members turned up, Reb Beach being his usual super villain, but quite nice with it Bungalow was actually quite nice and dragged us down into the bowels of the venue to get the aforementioned Mr Devin, and as always Brian Ruedy the "special guest" keyboard player who looked after us on the last our was kind and gracious on this tour again and asked the silly question of were we going to anymore gigs (grrr no more organs to sell) I politely deflected the wife's killer stare at me and present delivered to the afore mentioned bass player and a miserable Mr Aldridge (did he know I ducked out during his solo hahahaha again) complaining that Mr Devin had his shit everywhere, we departed and said our fond farewells  and left the loved up bass player to tidy up his shit not before he "stole" a vegetarian sandwich from the lovely Lauren, we again headed back to Gimpsville under cover of darkness and my intention was to head back to work the next morning as I didn't want to endure any arguments with the eldest about how I live my life in my house!

The wife soon had things to say about it, and the top and bottom of it was I wasn't going back to work, I could see her point but the week hadn't really felt like a holiday, and at the moment I'm happiest at work (I know go figure)  although I had been checking on emails when I was off (sod off all the haters I would rather keep an eye on my mail then turn up and try and wade through 300+ emails on my first day back) so my sanity was coming back to safe levels, The Kraken had been unusually quiet but I wasn't complaining we had one last hot date, we were going to see the new Star Trek film (at last) so we headed to (work) with a slight detour for me to buy some new clothes (new hoody t-shirt two shirts for work a new Hawaiian shirt because I liked it oh and some new underwear all in under four minutes who say's I don't know how to shop!) and we were soon sat down for food before the pictures, we tucked in and had a mountain of grub I was cheeky and went to have some pudding, well you have to don't you?

We all regretted it soon enough as we were sat in the back row (no kissing there) and we had a mountain to climb, everybody was soon suffering from the mustard gas attack that was the vapours from the curry I had just ingested.....well it looked like curry! the film was ....OK I enjoyed it but it was just that, OK I had been expecting so much more, it felt like tons of scenes could have been shortened and then it finished really quickly....eh! but that was just me being picky it was a good film but maybe the curry had got the better of me, will watch it again? of course I will, but yeah go watch it you will see what I mean.

Then just the weekend to survive, we did Ok Saturday and then had a meltdown today not of nuclear proportions, but it makes me aware that at the moment me and the wife even for all her understanding of me and my condition are poles apart, and I really am at a loss on how to bridge the gap, is it insurmountable? of course not but I seem incapable of dealing with emotions, that normal people would dispense with the blink of an eye, I know I have some issues which are rearing their ugly head, I know I have to resolve them sooner or later, I want to for my own sake never mind for those around me, friends as well as family I know I'm sick of being that annoying fly in the ointment!

There you have it, I know I have posted a few blogs this last fortnight and numbers have been high, as always thank you to all the "freaks" who actually read the blogs your kind words are always welcome, yes I know I have some problems (minor understatement) but I'm also aware that there are some out there with far worse than me and the fact that I can keep venting my spleen in this particular medium actually does help me (and some others it seems) a great deal, did I do everything I intended to do this holiday? hell no, nowhere near what I thought I could, so what's left of my free time will be me pushing as much music and good vibes down my neck as possible, and although it's nice to give me some of your love, please look closer to home, as there could be someone sat amongst your own circle of family and friends going through something similar and your love and help would be much better directed at a loved one who needs your help rather than a miserable git (the wife's description) on the end of this interwebby thingy majig! as always watch the skies there could be more incoming then again there might not be the only thing that I can guarantee is that no matter what happens the world will always keep spinning! until the next time Toodles! 

The Trees

There is trouble in the..... erm no, I had left the army without a plan B. And although I went to work in an electrical contractors because even in my befuddled mental state (please see previous books) I was a better option in the retail part of the company (it was a local firm that had so many fingers in so many pies and yes I worked in all of them) and soon gravitated to looking after the cycling department in just under five weeks (things were either really crap or I was that good, you work it out!) but one afternoon some no hoper who knew the owner bought the wrong piece of kit for his Bike, even I could tell it was the wrong part but he knew best, two hours later he came back full of piss and vinegar saying that I (me with my reputation) had sold him the wrong part and then he did the unforgiven and called me a liar, to my face! cue lighting of blue touch paper and a seventeen year old just out of the army and raging lunatic to boot launching himself across the counter at said no hoper, the reaction was great if I could have got a proper grip on the tosser I probably would be getting out of prison around about............................now!

The owner had seen the whole thing and even asked me to apologise, to which my reply was “if I had lied and sold him the wrong part then yes, but I didn’t and I don’t lie so therefore he’s got no fucking chance” and at that point I took one step forward to emphasise my point the guy turned tail and ran like hell. Now at that point I thought that my career in the cycling industry was over, but after a long chat in the office I was given a raise and had my hours reduced (WTF) but I knew it was only a matter of time before I did somebody serious damage either by throwing them down the stairs or hitting them with a bike, the last straw was when the Santa Claus who was hired came back from his dinner pissed as a rat and I was ordered into the Santa suit, let’s just say if you know what I’m like for Christmas I probably scarred more kids that day than any other Santa in the history of Santa Claus! I handed my notice in at the end of the day and burned my bridges completely by having a strop, having said that the guy who owned the business tried to get me to go back and work for him whenever he bumped into me right up until he emigrated a few years ago the only company that he kept going was the original electrical installation company which was run by Shaun the electrical manager who remembered me when  he bumped into me at my current place of employment nearly twenty years later and give me a (quite embarrassing) glowing testimonial to my then boss.

This was three days before Christmas, with no job no savings maybe I wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, the army had got me the placement, thankfully my boss rang the army (in those days they really did look after distressed ex personnel) and informed them what had happened. I received a letter the next day, inviting me to an interview for a new post on Christmas eve. I went but wasn’t in the best frame of mind, the guy I saw had a huge file in front of him presumably about me, and before I had said anything he launched into his spiel, he knew what the problem was, I needed my space, I needed to be in a physical job and he said he had a placement with the NCB’s forestry department, starting January 3^rd, fine I’ll take it” anything to get the guy off my back.

I drank myself pretty rigid over the Christmas and New Year although not enough to disgrace me or the family, and turned up to start bright and early, I had no idea what I would be doing as I hadn’t really taken notice at the interview, I didn’t particularly like the look of them they were an odd looking bunch, but there was a reason why for that and I will come to that in good time. I was told I was on a forester’s course which if successful would lead to a university course over three years. I had to learn every single aspect of the job from the planting to mensuration (that’s not as rude as it sounds but involves loads of maths) brashing, the fencing department (no not the Olympic sport), the Nursery and lots of other stuff that is probably still in my head of a shed, and I threw myself into the job with gusto. There was me and another chap Barney doing the same task and we were told (lied to) that if we did well we would start University in the September.

Barney was a character his dad was actually the equivalent of the Pope in the Methodist chapel (although we didn’t know this) he didn’t swear wouldn’t look at page three girls and all the other goody goody stuff you would expect. He was a nice bloke but he must have been made of pretty stern stuff, because I couldn’t have put up with half the crap that he did, and boy did he.

There was Pat the Mill manager who was born deaf but a great lip reader, so you had to be careful what you said as he was also a dead shot with cut off bits of timber, it was always funny when the H&S department came as he was the only person who wouldn’t wear ear defenders so funny, Minty a lunatic who did everything at a million miles an hour, Bob Wall who was the go to guy on site was always in the office fighting somebody's’ corner if needed, Pueblo who I never ever knew his real name just his nickname and nobody would ever tell you why, Urko (Peter really) who was the biggest man on site about six foot eight and with a waist to match, Captain Kirk(go figure) who was worse than me for being obsessed with time he finished at 4.30 Monday to Thursday and he pulled out at 4.31 if he was giving you a lift you had better be in the car because he would not wait, and if you weren’t there in the morning he didn’t stop and wait, he really did focus your mind with time keeping. Billy Mitchell whose opening question to anybody he met was Lennon or McCartney I threw him a curveball as at the time I didn’t have a clue so said Ringo which he liked, he liked them all equally, he was just an argumentative little.....person. Bob Mitchell the greedy site foreman who would always dive into the lads fish and chips that were on the canteen stove keeping warm on a Friday before we went off to the pub, well he did until one day we replaced it with a steaming cow pat (I don’t like thieves). John Milburn the only member of the Tory party that I liked, and the tale of us wiping out an entire orchard needs to be kept out of print for legal (silly) reasons (buy me a pint and I will be glad to tell you the whole tale). And a whole host of other characters, which thirty years down the line are as fresh as if it was only yesterday.

I have to admit there was many reasons why I liked the job, yes it was outdoors most of the time, it was physical and hasn’t helped me down the years (my shoulder is one the issues that first reared its head working here) a couple of broken ribs after cutting myself and my safety harness out of a tree (don’t ask), another tale curtailed due to legal reasons because the person who was the instigator of my fall from the tree, nearly died the next day due to a burst appendix and I said he was faking it ....ooops!  We worked incredibly hard but we played hard as well and thankfully because of this job I think I was able to integrate myself back into the general public.

Do I have any regrets? Well of course the lies didn’t help, after six exams were I got five straight A’s and a B+ and poor Barney six straight A +’s to be told by Larry Ridley (the horrible site boss, a real throw back to the 1920’s style of treatment of the workforce) that there was no money in the budget (as promised) to send us off to University (you had to be sent by your place of employment) yet mysteriously a brand new saw for the mill had been purchased for about £32000 (ooooh the cost of sending me and Barney....ah let’s not go there!). The two biggies though were firstly making me over qualified for to go and work at the National trust who wouldn’t employ me or Barney, thankfully music came calling and thats a whole number of other chapters! But number one in the hit parade was the fact that my father who I hadn’t by that time seen in nearly 9 years lived 700 yards away from where I worked I must have walked past where he was living every single day for nearly eight months and at that point in time my head was well and truly screwed up so a father figure would have come in quite handy, but as you should know by now that wasn’t to be.

Now have you noticed that I have barely mentioned music in this wee snippet of my life and well to be truthful?  There is an underlying reason why I mention the fact that I used to be a lumberjack, I like Fish the big Scotsman who used to sing (ahem) in Marillion but is now solo and I prefer him all the more for it, I like his lyrics, he wanted to join the army when he was younger, so did I, admittedly I did and he didn’t, that doesn’t matter, he worked in forestry doing the course I should have done, symmetry I can see it if you can’t, he has a bald head so do I damn it’s all coming together I would sell my eldest’s soul to write a lyric as clever as he does and that is where the symmetry comes into it, unfortunately I don’t have it in me to be a professional stalker (too lazy to put in the leg work you see). until the next time.....Toodles!

Generation Landslide

Alice Cooper holds a special place in my heart for a number of reasons, ”Hello Hurray” was the first single I ever bought for myself (I have covered this before in blogs/books twatter or some other such thing I’m such a media whore) yes I still have it and yes I still hate the  bloody A-side (ponderous in my opinion) but thankfully my brother (in a rare moment of kindness) reminded me of the guilty pleasures of the B-side and the title of this little romp is named after the very B-side which is still to this day is still my favourite Alice cooper song but that’s not what I’m here blathering on about.

No I was stood in the Brit (my local when I was a lad, back in the day,  populated by any person who had hair or liked Rock music who lived in Gimpsville) when all of a sudden there was a song playing on the juke box (oh the good old days)and as it happens it turned out that it was the new Alice cooper single Seven and Seven Is. It was quirky and I liked it I was out of the loop with regards Alice.The last album I had heard was Lace & Whiskey god knows when and although I quite enjoyed it at the time nobody else seemed to, so here I was pint in hand enjoying umbiff biff biff umbiff ya  with a silly grin in place (you have to hear the song to understand) when the talk got around to the fact that he was touring and lets go and see him, Manchester seemed to be the best date for me as I was working Forestry and trying to make a go of it  a proper job with proper qualifications (this was my plan b after the army) but then fate put a spanner in the works with an exam on the date of the gig so reluctantly I sold my ticket to a happy camper who ran out of the pub as though his head was on fire!

The exam came and went and I passed with flying colours but my head was on the gig and although others from the pub were going to the Glasgow gig on the Friday there was no room at the inn so to speak, so I turned up to drink alone (or so I thought) I finished early and was sat in the bar for just after one (there’s a surprise) when my mate Simon turned up knowing where I was going to be, he was going and his brother who was also meant to be going was in a bad way after being in an accident of his motor bike, so I was the first port of call. Woo hoo we jumped into his little mini estate and headed up whatever road took us up to Glasgow we got there for about six and we weren’t interested who the support was so we parked the car up in a side street as we had no option but to sleep in it after the gig as Simon intended to have a drink or two.

We found a pub full of like minded people and we soon were mixing with lots of Scottish people having a great and rowdy time singing and shouting and generally doing what you do when you’re trying to beat the Scottish at their national sport (DRINKING) and we were doing quite well until we needed something solid on our stomachs as we were light weights compared to these guys, thankfully the pub did Sandwiches and Toasties so we grabbed a couple of Sandwiches and headed to a quiet(ish) corner and Simon took his Jacket off (why he did I have no idea) but he had just had a tattoo done a couple of weeks previously of a large Celtic cross with a rose wrapped around it, you could have heard a pin drop (WTF) then it got creepy a couple of the guys who just minutes earlier were our bosom buddies became very scary, and they were not very friendly when asked us which team we supported? Now you have to remember at this point in my life I was a lot of things naive, a space cadet, drunk, dumb as a box of frogs you may delete whichever one you think is appropriate, but I thought he meant football so I said Consett (this did not help) and Simon who had not been drinking from the same bottle of Pernod as I had on the way up (thankfully as he was the designated driver) realised this was starting to get ugly (I must admit it wasn’t until the next day while driving home that Simon explained how he thought we were about to die and I was so oblivious to the fact) Simon soon got to the grip of things as he had seen similar things in Gimpsville when visiting his pissed friend (that would be me then). The cusp of the problem unbeknown to us straight away was religion Simon’s tattoo was known as a Papal rose and here we were sat in the heart of Rangers territory (Protestants to you and me) thankfully Simon was able to prove that he was oblivious of his mistake and that we were both Rangers fans (actually while I lived in Edinburgh I was a dedicated Hibs fan hahaha another Catholic club come on the cabbage oh dear)  and we were soon back in the arms of our new best buddies (although by all accounts it was a close run thing and if I mention it to Simon now he still gets in a cold sweat) getting drunk and making merry.

 

It was soon decided to head to the venue with our friends (and our jackets kept well and truly on) we noticed they all carried bottles of Irn Bru (laced with Vodka as we soon found out) we carried on drinking and having fun (I couldn’t drink what I drank then now in a month of Sundays, mind you I wouldn’t half mind the opportunity hahaha) and it wasn’t long before the lights went down (for the gig not for me) and the band were romping through an alright kind of set list, if memory serves me right we got Road Rats from Lace & Whiskey and bulk of the set was from the classic albums although nothing from Muscle of Love and three or four shite songs from Flush The Fashion and a couple from Special Forces Which in reality wasn’t that special, including Seven and Seven Is. What struck me was how tiny Alice was and his voice was shocking, he was barely audible when the band were playing and they butchered Generation Landslide (the drink had definitely caught up with Alice) maybe I should have kept drinking while I had the chance, the best bit by far was when Alice declared how he hated the blues and Steve Hunter started playing the blues, Alice crept up behind and cut his throat sending a spray of blood over the first few rows a truly shocking moment but a fantastic effect, one that stands out in my time of going to see bands (and trust me that’s a few)  it’s the only tour as I’m aware that Alice did the trick, it still gives me the creeps to this day hahahaha and I still hate having my throat touched!

We fell out of the venue (The Apollo if your that interested) and found a pub close to where we were parked for more beers, of  which I have no recollection at all, my next memory was Simon waking me in the back of his car saying we needed to find a cafe and get breakfast and use the facilities before heading back over the border. We got back to Gimpsville just as the Brit opened so Simon headed home and I headed into the bar and there was some of the gang covered in the fake blood from the night before laughing and joking saying how crap Alice had been but the trip had been a hoot.

That was Alice’s last gig for nearly four years and he actually played Newcastle on that tour but for some reason (which escapes me for the time being) I didn’t go, maybe’s a different crowd, a different interest in styles of music I still liked the guy I just wasn’t too bothered to see the fake blood up close and personal. I didn’t get to see the man again until the Theatre of Death tour in Newcastle in on my birthday in 2009 (damn where does the time go) not to see the man, I will admit but to say that I had actually never seen a band on my birthday something which surprisingly until then I had never done, mind you this time Alice was on top form even though I didn’t get Generation landslide this time!

 

I thought I had better post something a little less bleak this time around but you guys need to be aware that from now on I'm not going to advertise all of the blogs as no matter what I do the blackness bleeds through, so keep an eye out because there could be some stuff that you miss, until the next time Toodles!

My Name is.....

My name is

I need some help.....

My name is

I have issues that I can't control.....

My name is

The person who is sat next to you....

My name is

The faceless stranger you see every day....

My name is

A person in pain.....

My name is

A broken man from the inside.....

my name is

A person who finally understands I can't do it all by myself.....

My name is

Someone hanging onto the edge.....

My name is

YOU!

Vicious Rumours

What a week, work as always has been........busy, but now I am attempting to have some holiday time to myself (if you remember I cancelled March's due to a lack of interest) this will be short and hopefully sweet, these batteries need to be recharged, I have a game plan, but its mine not yours so I will keep it to myself if it's ok with you lot!

This will also be the last time I address the rumours that I am indeed suicidal, I'm not, I have been before, but although I do have darkness out there on the perimeter, this is me as happy as I get without a lottery win! after the last blog I was again inundated with emails and even bumped into a few readers at work, who were concerned for my health, if it's coming across that I'm a demented loon, I can live with that, however a suicidal demented loon couldn't be any further from the truth!

Am I generally unhappy? yes I suppose I am, but today I am ok, I would love to get off the merry go round of debt and drama, but it is what it is, I do have a cunning plan, but as I said before it's mine and when it comes to fruition you will all be the first to know about it, today shall spent in the company of some dear friends and off to see that rather large Scotsman Fish. The rest of the week we shall see, Whitesnake for at least one date and my plan for happiness is to try and go back to work for Thursday depending on my state of mind, because it does appear that there is actually a clarity there that doesn't exist at home which I like.

The drama is the main contention that is getting me down, some people can't draw breath without wanting an argument, and so if it continues then I will be back to work as quickly as my little legs will carry me, I'm not getting any younger and I have bit my lip for far too long I can feel (the hulk's) rage building and I really don't want it to blow, because the fallout affects everybody, I'm feeling selfish, is that wrong of me? instead of thinking of others I want to think of me, myself, I. but it's me time that I crave, I like the solitude and the silence (no drama basically)I'm getting to the end of my rope Kowtowing to people who actually mean nothing to me at all, and they never have done! I have bit my lip for the sake of others and well let's not go there this is meant to be a happy blog!

Reading and writing is the order of the week, I have some seeds to be planted and not of the dark variety I'm hoping to do a few short happy ones this week, so be prepared for incoming rapid fire I feel I need to shake off this cloak of darkness that has seeped into everything, hey if people are coming to see me at work because they are worried hahahahaha, although one person (with a camera)who I don't get to see anywhere near enough, had some very kind words that gave me hope for this blue spinning pearl.

So that's me done and dusted for now today a walk would be nice, some better weather, some good friends some good drink and a bloody tall Scotsman, what more could I ask for. OK for me to be happy, but that's what I'm striving to be (today at least) once again I thank you for all of the kind thoughts and salutations, I'm fine it's you lot that's fucked until next time,  watch those cloudless skies........Toodles!

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!