The kids are all alright

So reminds me of me.


A few days ago, Andre posted something on Facebook that got me thinking. He posted a thank you to his friends for helping him rise up out of a state of “crippling self doubt and recrimination.” He mentioned how “extremely harshly” he judges himself and went on to thank people for inspiring him and supporting him even in his darkest of moods.

I’m glad he’s feeling up at the moment, but on the same hand it made me sad to realize he’s ever felt this way at all. He’s just one of the gentlest, sweetest guys I have ever met and I didn’t realize he had tendencies to feel this way.

Then I realized it isn’t so different from some other conversations I’ve had with other old friends in the past year. Viktor told me he suppressed much of his life prior to 25 because of his discomfort with who…

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Writer’s Block

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This week, having nothing up my sleeves but a couple of old arms, I thought I would address the problem of writer’s block.

I have had it before but, I always find that, once you start writing something, anything, you no longer have a blank page staring back at you. In fact, some of my best writing has started like that. (He says ‘confidently’ while hastily clutching at straws, that seem to be floating all around, but just out of reach)!

Unlike the character played by Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”, I find that it doesn’t help at all to just sit there, typing ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’. Plus, like in the film, I’m sure it would just send me as crazy as he was!

No, it’s always best, for me at least, to just start something and then, when ‘the good stuff’ finally comes along, I just delete all the other nonsense like this and carry on, typing out my next ‘best seller’. (Oh please, would anyone who’s listening up there, just send me some good stuff? Like now, please)!

I feel sure that something good will be along in just a minute, but while you and I are waiting, here is some music… OK, just kidding! I may be clever and all, but I can’t do that. Talking about music though, did I ever tell you about the time I was in a choir? No? Well, I was in a choir. It was quite recently in fact, but then it died. Again. (There had been two choirs over the years & they both ‘passed away’). Maybe it was something I said, or sang even? I think I’m bad luck when it comes to choirs, as this one was really very good. It’s location was even haunted by a little ghost girl, apparently. I don’t know, maybe that was why it failed. Maybe she didn’t like the sound of people singing in her ‘home’.

Oh darn. I just had an idea and then it went. Or was it…um…no, it’s gone. Well I’m sorry dear reader, but this week I think you will just have to put up with a load of old twaddle! It’s funny, because I’ve never dried up to this extent before. Well there was that one time, when I was on stage, playing a character in yet another ‘farce’ in an amateur dramatics group. Oh, didn’t I tell you about that either? Well I was…… (I’m sorry to interrupt this blog, but I’ve just decided that enough is enough. Normal blogging service will be resumed as soon as possible). Oh dear! I wouldn’t wish the dreaded writer’s block on anyone!

I should be back by next week, with something better hopefully. See y’all soon!

Father’s Day et al

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I have gotten over my need to post at a certain time, on a certain day. So I’m sticking this on here now, just after 1pm. Sorry it’s not so funny this week.

So it’s father’s day this coming Sunday (21st. June). I’m a father myself and it’s always nice to be told that you’re loved and to receive cards, gifts and maybe to even be taken out for a meal, or a drink.

But and I know I’m not the only person to think this, should we have these special ‘days’? You know, like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparents day and let’s not forget that old St. Valentines day, when you can tell (if you have one) the person you love, that you do, in fact, love them. Maybe it’s a good thing. I knew a man once, who couldn’t and never did, tell his girlfriend that her loved her. He always used to say that he would ‘when the time was right’. So it was no wonder then, when she dumped him and moved on.

But do we really need that one special day, every year, when we can express our feelings for this relative, or that lover? I always felt ‘forced’ into buying something for my mum or dad, when I obviously loved them both and they knew it. They always liked the cards, but the gifts were a hit-and-miss affair!

I suppose that it’s not such a bad thing really. The card makers and gift sellers always love it I’m sure, when there is a sudden influx of money that they can rely on getting annually. For mum’s, dad’s, grandparents and lovers etc., it’s something to look forward to. I hated Valentine’s day when I was a child, as I knew nothing would be coming through the mail for me. Oh and as a teenager too and maybe in my twenties as well, sometimes. It doesn’t count when your mum sends you one to try and make you feel better though, does it?

But it’s special now. Now I have a love of my very own. I think I’m getting something gift wise this Sunday too. Now there’s another thought, if that ‘day’ turns up, but nothing else does, should you expect something? Or get angry at the lack of it even? Maybe it just slipped their memory. But how that could ever be possible, with all the relevant advertising, slapping you in the face from all directions? It’s a funny old world.

Or, as the old song/saying goes “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return”. But may God help you, if you forget to show it!

                                                      Happy Father’s day to dad’s everywhere!

Spam, spam, spam, spam

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That’s great! I haven’t had a comment on any of my posts for weeks & I got all excited today when I saw a new one had actually turned up! I hurriedly clicked on the ‘comments’ title, only to see that it was just a flipping great load of spam! Ho-hum, back to the drawing board, in hope that one day, maybe someone else will comment!

No Healthy Solutions!

Don’t you just love doctor’s surgeries? No? Join the queue (for an appointment). They’re not quite as bad as they used to be though. You would ring up for an appointment & the receptionist would instantly jump on the defensive. “What’s that? Little Jimmy needs to see the doctor? Why? What’s wrong with him?” “Well” you would say, “That’s a personal matter between Jimmy, his doctor & I”. “Yes but”, she would continue, “If you tell me what the problem is, then maybe I can get him to see the doctor sooner”. Her sly reply would suggest that, if you did tell all, thereby increasing the surgery’s gossip quota for the day, you might actually get to see a doctor. So you would go on, trying to explain little Jimmy’s sensitive problem in as few words as possible. Then you would get all manner of questions & suggestions, such as, “Have you tried putting ointment on it”? Or “Did you give him ‘X’ tablet to see if that helped”? All the while your appointment chances diminishing rapidly, while she, with less knowledge than a pharmacist’s son’s ex girlfriend, would come up with solutions that you had already tried at least 24 hours ago.

These days of course, they are much better than that. If you ring up at exactly the right moment, say two minutes after the surgery opens, (because the phone is still on ’emergency’ calls only up till then), Then you MAY actually have a chance of seeing someone that day. I say ‘someone’ as, you probably won’t see a doctor, but you could get to see a ‘nurse practitioner’, or they might make you an appointment with a doctor (at least two weeks later), or they may even ring another doctor or specialist who knows what you are talking about. Why can’t you have an appointment (with a doctor) when you need one? When you’re actually ill? Or is it, like I have always suspected, that they make you wait 2-4 weeks in hope that you will get over whatever you have in the meantime?

Am I going on a bit? Does it seem like a bit of a ‘sore point’ yet? Yes well the cream didn’t work, so I had to try something. How about EARS though? In 1997 I woke up one morning with a completely blocked (deaf) ear. For anyone that doesn’t know what that’s actually like, put your finger up to something noisy & see how much sound you can hear through your fingertip. Nothing? You surprise me. But that’s what (I imagine) total deafness is like. The same can be said of total blindness, (how much you can see through that same fingertip). It was the oddest & scariest thing. Sound & vision are both three-dimensional senses & only half of either just doesn’t work the same. Losing half of your hearing or sight, is like being 75% deaf or blind. (I have tried both, not by choice & if it ever happens to you, you may hear or see, what I mean). The surgery actually helped then. “Put some warm olive oil in your ear, twice a day & come back in a week” They said, going on to say that, if it didn’t work, they would syringe it. I did what they said. It didn’t help. A week later they syringed it like they said. It helped. A piece of earwax the length & shape of a cigarette butt, came out of my ear & sound went back in. The relief was palpable, immediate & made me want to jump for joy. I didn’t. But I could’ve. Things have changed though, first it went to two weeks of ‘olive oiling’ yourself & now it’s either a whole month or a whole bottle, whichever takes the longer.

I loved the surgery after that. Well for a few weeks anyway. What really rubbed me up the wrong way (and it wasn’t the embrocation), was their attitude to lateness. One day I was late for an appointment. It was nothing really, just a few seconds late, maybe 10 or 12. They told me to come back next week. “But” I protested in painful desperation, “I’m only just past the time, surely someone could see me now, I’m not that late”? “No, you’re not that late, but you are late. We operate a policy of ‘zero tolerance’ here, if you are past your appointment time, even by just a few seconds, then you must make another appointment, when you will be seen, but only if you arrive before your appointment time”! Then, as if to rub salt in the wound that I had actually come to have treated, she said, “Your time is not important, ours is”! “Yes” I said loudly, to everyone else in the waiting area as well as her, “But I am in pain, you are not”! She ignored me. I changed surgeries after that. I was even told once that it would be ‘illegal’ for them to give me the phone number of their in-house pharmacy. What? These days though, I have learned to ‘bite the bullet’, put up & shut-up & go along with the crowd, baa-ing as I go. Doctor’s surgeries, who needs ’em? WE DO, I hear you cry. HA, yes maybe, but one day I won’t. One day it will be too late for me & then I shall have the last laugh. RIP me!

Disclaimer: While based on my actual experiences of medical care down the years, it is just that. Some words have been added for dramatic effect. This post is (loosely) based on many different visits, surgeries & events & is meant to make you laugh (the best medicine supposedly) & is only for entertainment purposes. I love the NHS & all it’s doctors, nurses & other staff deserve a very big pat-on-the-back. If it ever stops, I will be sorry to see it go. You could say my life depends on it, but hey, lets not get that heavy. Heavy? Obese even? Now there’s another story…

Why? Just why?

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!stsop koobecaf sseltniop gnidaer ta detnelat ylhgih eb tsum uoy neht ,sdrawkcab siht daer nac uoy fI Don’t you just get sick of all these pointless things they put on social media these days? Or should I say ‘unsocial’ media? There’s quizzes & photos, news stories and whatever else you’ve ‘subscribed’ to. I’m just as bad as everyone else, I sit there, scrolling and scrolling and noticing that the new posts I read at the top of the page, have moved down faster than I can read them and have been replaced by other ‘new’ posts, that just seem to say the same things that I read minutes, hours, days and even weeks ago! I gave it up for a while recently, but now I’m back on there (fb) and still do the same thing that I decided to stop it for! Am I addicted? Oh and don’t get me started on grammar. I’m one of the world’s biggest grammar nerds going I think. Especially when it comes to of. What? I hear you ask. Of is my biggest bugbear, as in “I should of gone and I would of gone only I couldn’t of, as I was busy” and other such tat! I sit there, screaming at the screen, “NO! NO! NO! You can’t put that! You &%$£#@. You mean have”! It’s ‘have’ never ‘of’. Unless used in the correct way as in Lord OF The Rings etc. Oh give me strength! And another thing! (You should never start a sentence with ‘And’)! Oh now look, I’m even correcting my own grammar! What a nerd! AND calling myself names and I’ve started another sentence with an ‘And’! Oh help me somebody! What I started to say was that, not only am I getting angry about social media, but I promised that I wouldn’t put a post on this week! So what have I just gone and done? I couldn’t even wait more than 24 hours, never mind a week. I’m such a loudmouth! Stop calling yourself names Gilbo! I’m trying, but I just don’t listen!… Oh! I’ll shut up now. I’m sorry… See you next week!

Taking a week off

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Hi, as I’m very busy at the moment (again), I shall not be posting this week. I don’t seem to be getting many readers at the moment & the few I do get mostly aren’t commenting. So it’s not like anyone will miss me. I shall attempt to post again next week. So in the usual manner, here are a couple of jokes to keep you going:

Chicken walking along the pavement. Road says to it “Don’t you cross me now”!

Martian walks into a bar. It was a Mars bar.

See you next week & thanks for stopping by.