A great weekend.

So, I started playing the flute again this weekend. I was a bit nervous about it as I hadn't really played properly since I was sixteen but I was reminded by a close friend this week that we have very little to fear but fear itself (And spiders of course). But if we actually put ourselves in situations that we are not entirely comfortable with we can find out a lot about ourselves that we didn't know.

It was actually a very positive experience, I'd forgotten far less than I thought and it all came flooding back! Maz chose some really great pieces to get started with and once Em's up and about I think I might give them a quick practice.

Anyway its a good excuse as any to reprint a story I wrote about starting to play the flute which I wrote a good number of years ago. I haven't altered or edited anything in it as its a good reflection of what I was writing at the time. But looking back on it now I see where the cracks and creaks are and wince a touch. but thats what growth it about I suppose.







Origins of a flautist




As most male endeavours have been over the span of human history, I started playing the flute to impress girls, sort of. Well one girl in particular, lets call her F.

F. was everything to me as most school yard first crushes are. Even though I knew little of the ways of love I knew that it must be that feeling she gave me every time she smiled. What else could this exquisite burning in my chest be?

She was in the year above me and my sun rose and set with her coming and goings. In the multiplex of my mind I saw every time I had past her in the corridor and in slow motion got to replay that one sweet time I queued behind her in the canteen, close enough to smell the coconut shampoo she used, whilst she giggled in front of me with her friends.

I should point out I didn't spend my time running from one side of the school to another just to catch a glimpse of her like some kind of hormonally charged stalker. There were other considerations in my school life at the time including football, sweet shops and bunking off.

When I saw her it was a rare treat I savoured rather than trying to gorge myself on an excess of her.

I listened to a lot of music even then, my friends and I would always be discussing albums and bands swapping copied tapes back and forth like we're meant to believe the kids today are swapping STD's. Eventually talk came around to starting our own band and I was given the task of both buying and learning the bass.

I rushed home sure that Mum and Dad, both being musical, would be overjoyed that I was going to become a famous rock star. To say they were under whelmed would be an understatement. I think they were afraid one of two things would happen;
I would buy a bass, get bored and leave it to gather dust in a corner, or I would play it so much and at such a volume that the structure of our house would age prematurely and bring the roof down on our heads.

A compromise was sought in that if I could play a non-offensive (non-guitar) instrument for a year they would think about buying a bass. Unhappy but unable to afford the bass myself I agreed to their terms. After some internal parental debate they presented me with a flute.

I was shocked. I couldn't even conceive of an instrument less bass like. Instead of striding the world like a rock behemoth, making the foundations of the world itself tremble, I would be playing a poncy version of a recorder, sideways, with my cheeks all bunched up and my lower lip sticking out like some kind of wanton child.

However, knowing my parents well enough that once a decision was reached, however stupid or ill advised, that would be the course of action that would be taken I kept to our bargain.

So I took the metal stick and started taking the regulation lessons in school as was stipulated in my contract with the parental unit. Imagine my surprise when I attended the first band practice, was directed to a seat in the flute section and F. sat down right next to me.

My panicking heart didn't even have time to recover from the sheer nearness of her before she turned to me smiled and said "Hi, you new?"

The burdensome flute changed in that instant to a key unlocking that which I truly most desired, contact with F.

Less than 2 months later, my friends abandoned the idea of forming a band and I had no need to stay in the band, as my bass playing skills or lack thereof were no longer required. But I kept at the flute so I could stay in the band and stay near to F.

Twice a week at lunch for 6 years I played the flute and had fun with F. My near obsession for her mellowed into something deeper more tangible and more adult. We became really good friends and apart from the odd half joking half serious valentines card my ardour was happily quenched.

A succession of boyfriends came and went but I was always there before during and after. I got to share so much more with her than I ever could have done as a potential suitor.

When she left school, a year ahead of me I simply stopped going to band. I started avoiding the confused music teacher, to whom I gave no warning of my musical defection, cleaned out my flute and placed it at the back of my wardrobe.

There it staid, wrapped in its red faux-velvet lining, until another group of friends decided to form a band and this time I already knew the instrument I was going to play.









There. That wasn't so bad was it? *shiver*

Anyway so friday we had dinner as payment for a very enjoyable flute lesson feature a one two whammy of Cottage pie and Cheesecake. We introduced Maz to the world of Dirty Word Scrabble. Extra points are awarded for the rude words. (In one game we still discuss Em got Quim on a triple word score!)

Saturday I biked up to Llandernog and back which was really rewarding/knackering but I'm not so bad today, it'll be tomorrow when the aches really come! We had a housekeeping day and went for a two hour wander around town finding all these really lovely od streets and quiet spots in town. The sun was just fabulously warming. And we finished off the day with the first barbeque of the season back at Rob and carolines helping them finish off some homemade burgers! Yay!

When the sun shines the world feels like a different place. I love how green this part of the country is and I wouldn't change it for the world but its nice to get some proper sun now and again.

Keith Hannon RIP

Believe it or not its now been two years since we lost Keith. The plan is as ever to go the beach and down a few drinks in his honour. I no longer work at the same place but I have actually stayed friends with a lot of the people I used to work with there. Its a very rare thing especially for me, we'll see how long it lasts I suppose. I play football with the lads every tuesday so that helps to keep some continuity there.

One of the joys of Flexi-working is I was abel to take yesterday afternoon off and do all the little jobs that had been driving me mad. we're away this weekend and I just wanted to get everything done ahead of schedule so I wasn't worrying about it whilst we're away DAAWN SOUFFF!

Its my Great Aunt Ritas birthday on sat and we're all heading down to the south of England to get the whole family together, We were fed up of only seeing people for funerals so we organized a big nosh up for a birthday party instead. 67 of my close family will be there which is a good turn out. Also my first opportunity to meet my American Nephew Jack! I'm so proud and happy for my brother and Amanda, They're so good together that I just know they're going to raise him right . Of Course I reserve the right to spoil him rotten on his trips over here!!

Got The first draft of Switch three back from The editors. More red ink on the page than black but he said he enjoyed it, I'm just needing to polish it up before its ready for mass consumption.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is highly enjoyable. Its very much switch off the brain and go along for the ride. Some plot points don't make sense, some characters are ill-used and badly drawn, and some of the CGI is a bit overly done. HOWEVER its enormous amounts of fun, Indy has some great lines, the humour is well used and not too OTT and, in the words of the great Warren Ellis, It obeys and enjoys the genre. Its a big summer popcorn action movie, the kind they didn't make anymore.

So as Lincoln said "The kind of person who enjoys this sort of thing will find this the sort of thing they enjoy.". (No speechwriters in the early eighteen hundreds.)

Right I'm off to get drunk and remeber a good friend taken from us too soon.

Peace out houseys.

morning!

Life's been kinda frantic lately. The new job as I have mentioned is working out really well, there a nice level of busy-ness without the arse clenching "ahhhhhh! I've only got five minutes to get this report straight and out to client!"

The new job is in house not outsourced which means there's none of this 'them and us' attitude that was sadly prevalent throughout my previous career. It wasn't meant to be like that of course, but there only so much of "Payrolls fucked up again!" you can take from the client before you start saying "Hang on a minute! wasn't it actually your equipment that failed again?! Aren't you using an easy target i.e. the only outsourced thing in your company, to avoid talking about the massive internal issues that are wrecking our chances of delivering you a good payroll?!"

Shit. I hope no one from the previous job reads this blog!

Anyway, new place totally different, bit further to drive but its not so bad, the only really bad thing is I don't really get a chance to write anything at work. I can tell you this now I've left, I wrote all of 'notes from the road', most of 'switch' and all the other crap in quiet moments at work. I'd write everything in a textpad document and email back to my personal email account. Now I don't have that oppoutunity(at the moment). Oh well, the job itself is much more challenging so I guess I'll have to start writing at home! Boo!

This weekends been quite quiet so far badders on Friday followed by watching late night tv with beer (alcohol is the only sensible solution to Friday night tv) Went to another garden centre yesterday morning (I am, in fact, fifty) then hung out with some friends we haven't seen since the wedding and persuaded another couple to buy a Wii (at this point I'm wondering how much commission I need to charge nintendo!) then watched England struggle and strain to turn France over in the rugby semi final.

Hey ho, although if England do retain the world cup I'll be turning my tv off for at least a month to let the commentators Hyperbole die down. Nothing against England but imagine if you supported Everton and EVERY SINGLE COMMENTATOR WAS PRAISING EVERY MOVE LIVERPOOL MADE. It would piss you off after a while. It may in fact happen as I'd far rather watch the world paint drying championships than watch football. Every year we go to a barbeque on FA cup final day and I'll watch the game to remind myslef why I don't watch the games. And then I'll fall comfortably asleep in the second half knowing I won't miss anything.

I didn't always feel this way, when I worked in Liverpool it was the football chat every day. But not any more. I've seen the light!

A long day ahead of family visits, six solid hours of gaming with The Pedantic Crew (We roll four deep), finished off with Chinese food and Argentina versus South Africa or as I like to call it, heaven.

Going to the Zoo Zoo Zoo, How about you?

Had a great stag do yesterday, spent all morning in Chester zoo looking at the animals looking at us. We followed a bunch of scousers around the Chimpanzee enclosure who kept offering the Chimps out for a fight.

As Ed will tell you Chimps are seven times stronger than even your biggest Scouser and they tend to pull each others fingers off for minor transgressions of established Chimp behaviour. I think your average human would last less than thirty seconds against an enraged chimp but these guys were so annoying I was willing to let them put it to the test.

After establishing that the spider monkeys and rhinos were actually in collusion and about to take over the world, we beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of Ed's garden and set up the barbeque.

Few images remain clear in my mind after we cracked open the third case of Peetermans Artoisbut a few things I am certain of;

1: Lightsabres are about a thousand time more fun if a guy who teaches stage fighting shows you a few basics and then tries to hit you. Also it helps if you have five of the heavy weight master replicas on hand, including Darth Mauls double bladed one.

2: Sticking your Ipod to a set of speakers and hitting random is bound to piss at least one person at a party off. Better to create a tracklist that will offend as few people as possible.

3: Two burgers= good. Three burgers = Better. Four burgers = Too much.

4: Some people are actually surprised when strippers aren't invited to a Stag do.

5: Good people have good people as friends. Even if you've never met them before you have at least one thing in common. And usually several.

Sundays are best used recovering from saturday. Hoorah for hair of the dog!

Boo to work tomorrow.

Saturday mornings,

Saturday morning is as close to a sacred ritual as I get, I'm aways up by 7 having no disposition to lie in. I've tried to do it a number of times but unless I'm actually comatosed I'm always up. I start thinking of things to do or read or write or muck about with and I just can't lie still.

I think if you spend most of your week waiting for the weekend spending a goodly portion of it in bed seems counter productive.

Or maybe I'm just weird.

Did a months worth of course work in four days. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears but I've completed the reading material for my course next weekend. It's a residential coure so I'll be away for a couple of nights and all the people that have been on the course before talk about is the atmosphere in the bar after the sessions are over.

Sounds like everyone relieved their uni/college days which is fun but besides the point of being there.

Speaking of which if you ever get the chance check out Fandango.

Yes it has Kevin Costner in it... Wait! Where are you going? Come back! Its from 1984 before he got crap!

Anyway but its a really entertaining story of four and a half guys who finish college and go on a road trip that deserves to be a lot more famous than it is.

Anyway off to a stag do at a Zoo, where else could we get genuine stags for the barbeque?

Laters

Travelblog : Keith Hannon RIP

Today is the years aniversary of one of my work colleagues death.

He was someone I spent every working day with for two years but i never got really close to. We had endless conversations about league versus union and he knew EVERYTHING about Hull RFC.

He literally dropped dead in front of me 365 days ago and his death was real and imedeate in a way all my previous experiences were not.

I miss his mannerisms his sayings and his proffesionalism.

So we're here on the beach eating burgers and raising a glass to a man we all wish we'd got to know better.

Rest in peace Keith, wherever you are I know the Hull faithfull are singing.

...And we're back

Hooray!

sorry for the recent lack of updates. I've ben busy as a beaver who hasn't filed has tax return OR rebuilt that damn dam, with work and when that all calmed down thursday time blogger decided it would very kindly only publish the title and labels for posts and not the main body of the text.

My inane ramblings of the past few days are lost forever!

And yet, somehow, we will learn to cope.

Went to pick Em up from a works do in the pub late yesterday evening. Its not often I walk into a pub after half eleven totally sober. Its a scary place, I don't know how you teetotalers do it. The bouncer opened the door and let me in with a look of either pity or distain I couldn't work out which and I plunged into the sweaty throng. The smoke may have gone but the strench of old beer and wasted friday night dreams still hangs heavy in the air which was puntucated by glares and stares of all sorts in my direction.

As I walked around I was jostled and barged around which is normally fine after a pint or two but it felt really personal last night. I found Ems table and stood their for a while but you know when everyone else is on one sort of vibe, happy and joking and you're totally oposite I could feel I was bringing them down so I belive the journalistic phrase is 'I made my excuses and left.'

Its always surprising how much of a mood alterer alchol is especially making you much more social than you would be under normal circumstances.

Anyways busy day today with the FA cup barbeque today. Don't get me wrong I don't particularly care about football but burgers and beer I can get passionate about.

more later

Franken Vs Coulter - Two men enter one man leaves.

I was up late enough and bored enough to watch a BBC4 program about comedian and broadcaster Al Franken who was one of the founders of liberal radio in the US. Now this scratched many of my particular itches. Anyone thats worked in American media will tell you this misnomer about liberal bias in the media is utter bollocks. Truly, truly horse shit. When I was at CNN there was a fanatical dedication to telling the truth no matter what. Trying to tell the news without bias is not only a broadcasters job it's his vocation. He should dedicate his entire life to trying to achieve that goal even though it is in itself unachievable.

As the late great Dr Hunter S Thompson once said "The only two things that are totally without bias in the newspaper are the stock reports and the sports results.' By the mere act of observing something we have influenced it, but if we are aware of this dichotomy we can try and balance it out.

However the Left in America don't seem to be concentrating on policy or reform, just baiting and being bated by the right seems to be enough for them.

Ann Coulter has probably made herself the most interesting commentator on American politics right now. Go and take a look. Really, I'll wait. Be warned you have to remember she says most of the stuff she does purely to bait liberals and before you think about flaming her and giving her a piece of your mind remember shes a very VERY smart person and also a top flight lawyer. Yeah. thats right. Put down the keyboard. Its not worth it.

Now these two have met on several occasions and each just choose to score points off each other rather than trying to listen to the position the other has taken. Its weird that these two very different individuals, clearly both intelligent and humorous in their own way, can find no common ground to agree upon. The 'debates' degenerate into farce as they're both so partisan they refuse to even acknowledge the others humanity (must resist gag about Coulter.)

Anyway I'm losing my point here so here goes. Remember, just because they're on the Right don't mean they're automatically wrong. And just because you don't agree with them doesn't mean you shouldn't respect their point of view.

American Politics, a better spectator sport than baseball

Oh and as it was pointed out to me late night in a New York bar; Yes I don't get to vote in America but I DO get a say in your politics as Britain seems to have become Americas Stooge fellating George whenever he needs a quick pick me up. So as soon as Britain stops being Americas mini-me and being dragged into badly thought out wars and policies we want no part of, THEN I'll stop commentating on your politics. Until then goodbye from the fifty-first state.