....well, it just goes to show that my resolution some years ago to not make any more resolutions was bang on the money.
But enough of that, that's so 2009. Here we are in 2010 and it's the future! They promised us flying cars and men from Mars but instead we've got the same old wars over the same old things and nothing really ever changes.
Or does it?
As the world held it's breath and waited for the Millennium Bug to make clocks stop and planes fall out of the sky, I was in a different city, a different job, and in a very different life to the wonderful one I have today. That's not to say I wasn't happy back then because I was, just not anywhere near as happy and settled and content as I am now.
I turn 40 this year, as do a good few of my friends, some of whom I've known for decades, but rather than feeling old, I'm just (as Bon Jovi put it, kinda) feeling older. Wiser? Maybe a little. Happier? Certainly.
As 2010 takes its first lungfulls of air, drawing its breath before it really starts to scream and let us know it's here, I'd like to wish each and every one of you who know me a happy, healthy and prosperous year, and indeed, decade.
Those of you who are my peers will know the feeling that I'm feeling right now. We're no longer young, but we're far from old. We know now what we wish we'd known then, but wouldn't have coped with knowing, so it's up to us to forge ahead, make the most of our potential, and pursue those dreams that you've been promising yourself you'll get around to one of these days.
Life is not a rehearsal, they say. I agree, so let's go out there and give the performance of our lives.......
Sunday 3 January 2010
Tuesday 22 December 2009
Bird? Plane? Nope, just an update!
The end is nigh!
Well, of 2009, anyway. As for the world, who knows, but hopefully there's plenty of life in the old dog yet as I'm having a great time.
Since I last put fingers to plastic and left something here life has been busy, but satisfying.
We saw Numan do his 30th anniversary Pleasure Principle show at the Indigo2, and it was one of the best (of more than thirty) shows I've seen him do. Ever. Hell even got chilly for a moment when the self-professed King Loather of nostalgia even admitted to having enjoyed the tour greatly! Stranger things, my friends, stranger things.....
Caught up with Dad again for the second time this year, which was great as always, and celebrated Tav's 17th and Kez's 15th birthdays. In the three years I've known them they've both grown so much, and my life is a much richer place for having them in it (and, of course, their wonderful mother!)
As the year draws to a close, it doesn't feel like 10 years since we celebrated the turn of the millennium, and the old cliche about life speeding up as your get older seems to be holding some grain of truth, as the last 12 months have sped by faster than a speeding speedy thing.
I have just 4 more working days left this year (though, sadly, about 10 days worth of work to do!) and then I settle into 10 days of catching up with friends, family and all the other pleasures that I seem to have so little time for these days.
I resolve to write at least one more blog before the end of the year, so it's not quite farewell (unlike Terry Wogan, who hung up his Breakfast Show gloves for the last time today), but if the year has been a party, then I'm about to head to the cloakroom for my hat and coat.
I'll see you at the exit.....
Well, of 2009, anyway. As for the world, who knows, but hopefully there's plenty of life in the old dog yet as I'm having a great time.
Since I last put fingers to plastic and left something here life has been busy, but satisfying.
We saw Numan do his 30th anniversary Pleasure Principle show at the Indigo2, and it was one of the best (of more than thirty) shows I've seen him do. Ever. Hell even got chilly for a moment when the self-professed King Loather of nostalgia even admitted to having enjoyed the tour greatly! Stranger things, my friends, stranger things.....
Caught up with Dad again for the second time this year, which was great as always, and celebrated Tav's 17th and Kez's 15th birthdays. In the three years I've known them they've both grown so much, and my life is a much richer place for having them in it (and, of course, their wonderful mother!)
As the year draws to a close, it doesn't feel like 10 years since we celebrated the turn of the millennium, and the old cliche about life speeding up as your get older seems to be holding some grain of truth, as the last 12 months have sped by faster than a speeding speedy thing.
I have just 4 more working days left this year (though, sadly, about 10 days worth of work to do!) and then I settle into 10 days of catching up with friends, family and all the other pleasures that I seem to have so little time for these days.
I resolve to write at least one more blog before the end of the year, so it's not quite farewell (unlike Terry Wogan, who hung up his Breakfast Show gloves for the last time today), but if the year has been a party, then I'm about to head to the cloakroom for my hat and coat.
I'll see you at the exit.....
Saturday 31 October 2009
Dead Good
Ahhh, Halloween, how I love thee.
Easily my favourite holiday (though thanks to Deborah I am learning to lvoe Xmas too), tonight we're having a small gathering with our friends Dave and Ros for games, beer and hopefully to scare the bejeezuz out of any trick or treaters!
Leatherface is on duty in the front window, my Jason costume is ready to go, and we've got an eight foot spider hanging from the living room ceiling.
Right, time to go be weird and scary (so no change there then) :-)
Have a frightful evening one and all, and if you come calling at a certain house with Leatherface in the window, beware the dark carport, there might just be something lurking in there........
Easily my favourite holiday (though thanks to Deborah I am learning to lvoe Xmas too), tonight we're having a small gathering with our friends Dave and Ros for games, beer and hopefully to scare the bejeezuz out of any trick or treaters!
Leatherface is on duty in the front window, my Jason costume is ready to go, and we've got an eight foot spider hanging from the living room ceiling.
Right, time to go be weird and scary (so no change there then) :-)
Have a frightful evening one and all, and if you come calling at a certain house with Leatherface in the window, beware the dark carport, there might just be something lurking in there........
Wednesday 23 September 2009
Quiet On Set, Please
This past weekend we headed up to a small hamlet on the north eastern coast of Norfolk to visit a film set.
Not Alone, an upcoming British psychological horror movie, is lensing on location in Happisburgh, which proved to be a devil to find, but the experience of interviewing the crew and director was fantastic.
Though you think you can imagine what it's like, you're never going to be prepared for the amount of waiting around on set between takes. Not that it's boring, not at all, especially when it's a friendly crew who make you feel welcome.
Director Tristan Versluis was a true gent, inviting me to have pretty much free run of the location and sitting down for a lengthy interview at the end of the afternoon's shooting.
Likewise Production Designer Mel Light, camera team member Martyn Chalk, and Gaffer cum everything Al Montgomery proved to be a very kindred spirit in his love of the genre.
Deborah shot some great pics, andnow all I need to do is write up the article, which I'm having great fun doing.
The best thing about the day? It all came about because of wheels that I had put in motion many months ago, proving that if you really want to do something, to achieve your goals, then you can do yourself favour by making some of your own luck.
Big thanks to all on Not Alone, and looking forward to seeing the finished movie in due course.
Not Alone, an upcoming British psychological horror movie, is lensing on location in Happisburgh, which proved to be a devil to find, but the experience of interviewing the crew and director was fantastic.
Though you think you can imagine what it's like, you're never going to be prepared for the amount of waiting around on set between takes. Not that it's boring, not at all, especially when it's a friendly crew who make you feel welcome.
Director Tristan Versluis was a true gent, inviting me to have pretty much free run of the location and sitting down for a lengthy interview at the end of the afternoon's shooting.
Likewise Production Designer Mel Light, camera team member Martyn Chalk, and Gaffer cum everything Al Montgomery proved to be a very kindred spirit in his love of the genre.
Deborah shot some great pics, andnow all I need to do is write up the article, which I'm having great fun doing.
The best thing about the day? It all came about because of wheels that I had put in motion many months ago, proving that if you really want to do something, to achieve your goals, then you can do yourself favour by making some of your own luck.
Big thanks to all on Not Alone, and looking forward to seeing the finished movie in due course.
Wednesday 12 August 2009
Waving Goodbye
As Steve Miller once astutely noted, "Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking, ticking into the future," and once more I find almost a month has passed since my last entry.
One momentous event that is disappearing into the rear view mirror of my life is the final headlining performance in this country of one my alltime favourite bands, Nine Inch Nails. Almost twenty years have passed since I first discovered Trent Reznor and he has kept me entertained, sane, and alive in varying degrees ever since.
So it came to pass that we all went to the Wave Goodbye gig at the O2 (which grows on me more and more as a venue despite my dislike of big venues) to hear a varied and fan-pleasing set that was crowned by an appearance by one of Reznor's influences, and the man who I have to thank for a lifetime of music and inspiration, Gary Numan.
Numan was greeted by raptuous applause, much as he was twenty six years previously when he became the first gig I saw at Nottingham's Royal Concert Hall on his 'comeback' tour in support of 1983's Warriors album.
Seeing two of musical heroes on the same stage was nothing short of breathtaking and with NIN retiring from the live arena I can think of no beter way to wave goodbye to them.
Numan was in fine form a week or so later, too, when we saw him in the much more intimate surroundings of Shepherd's Bush Empire. Come December we're returning, together, to the Indigo2 for a third time to see the classic Pleasure Principle album played from front to back, a gig we're already anticipating with some excitement.
On the immediate horizon, I'm having my first two week block off work for some four years kicking off on Friday, and I can't wait to spend some quality, relaxing time with the family, both at home and down in Cornwall, where my trigger finger is itching to shoot many, many pictures.
One momentous event that is disappearing into the rear view mirror of my life is the final headlining performance in this country of one my alltime favourite bands, Nine Inch Nails. Almost twenty years have passed since I first discovered Trent Reznor and he has kept me entertained, sane, and alive in varying degrees ever since.
So it came to pass that we all went to the Wave Goodbye gig at the O2 (which grows on me more and more as a venue despite my dislike of big venues) to hear a varied and fan-pleasing set that was crowned by an appearance by one of Reznor's influences, and the man who I have to thank for a lifetime of music and inspiration, Gary Numan.
Numan was greeted by raptuous applause, much as he was twenty six years previously when he became the first gig I saw at Nottingham's Royal Concert Hall on his 'comeback' tour in support of 1983's Warriors album.
Seeing two of musical heroes on the same stage was nothing short of breathtaking and with NIN retiring from the live arena I can think of no beter way to wave goodbye to them.
Numan was in fine form a week or so later, too, when we saw him in the much more intimate surroundings of Shepherd's Bush Empire. Come December we're returning, together, to the Indigo2 for a third time to see the classic Pleasure Principle album played from front to back, a gig we're already anticipating with some excitement.
On the immediate horizon, I'm having my first two week block off work for some four years kicking off on Friday, and I can't wait to spend some quality, relaxing time with the family, both at home and down in Cornwall, where my trigger finger is itching to shoot many, many pictures.
Monday 27 July 2009
Straight Up!
In all my time on this planet I've never been up in a helicopter. Until today, that is.
We met up with a friend of ours and his young lady for a sumptuous three course lunch at Hintlesham Hall in Suffolk, and Peter being Peter decided to eschew public transport and instead helicopter down from the wilds of Yorkshire where he is sometimes based to his work premises in London. Handily this meant he could drop out of the sky a few miles from us, giving me an excuse to take a day off and for us all to meet him for lunch.
It's always great catching up - the last time we saw each other was at a villa in Portugal in February, but his suggestion that the pilot, Steve, take us up for a quick buzz of our house was an unexpected bonus, and so we found ourselves crossing the Suffolk/Essex border at 900 feet to look down on where we live.
The ride itself was fantastic. We hardly knew that we had taken off, such was the smooth ascent (though the ground rapidly moving away was something of a giveaway), and hurtling through the air, watching the cars crawl like ants along the ribbon thin roads, trying to spot familiar sights from a whole new angle was exhilarating.
I must admit I had a slight trepidation about asecnding in a metal dragonfly, but once strapped in and filled with confidence by the fact that Steve was ex-RAF and had flown a few of these things in his time, the experience was one of the better ones I've had in recent years.
The pseudo freedom of hurtling through the air with only a glass screen to protect us from the elements was unlike anything I've ever been party to. Sat in the body of an airliner you barely know you're airborne, but here, strapped into the front seat I could see everything.
All too soon the ride was over, and we engaged in our delightful lunch, but it's definitely an experience that I want to repeat.
We met up with a friend of ours and his young lady for a sumptuous three course lunch at Hintlesham Hall in Suffolk, and Peter being Peter decided to eschew public transport and instead helicopter down from the wilds of Yorkshire where he is sometimes based to his work premises in London. Handily this meant he could drop out of the sky a few miles from us, giving me an excuse to take a day off and for us all to meet him for lunch.
It's always great catching up - the last time we saw each other was at a villa in Portugal in February, but his suggestion that the pilot, Steve, take us up for a quick buzz of our house was an unexpected bonus, and so we found ourselves crossing the Suffolk/Essex border at 900 feet to look down on where we live.
The ride itself was fantastic. We hardly knew that we had taken off, such was the smooth ascent (though the ground rapidly moving away was something of a giveaway), and hurtling through the air, watching the cars crawl like ants along the ribbon thin roads, trying to spot familiar sights from a whole new angle was exhilarating.
I must admit I had a slight trepidation about asecnding in a metal dragonfly, but once strapped in and filled with confidence by the fact that Steve was ex-RAF and had flown a few of these things in his time, the experience was one of the better ones I've had in recent years.
The pseudo freedom of hurtling through the air with only a glass screen to protect us from the elements was unlike anything I've ever been party to. Sat in the body of an airliner you barely know you're airborne, but here, strapped into the front seat I could see everything.
All too soon the ride was over, and we engaged in our delightful lunch, but it's definitely an experience that I want to repeat.
Wednesday 1 July 2009
The K-erching! of Pop
I suppose it was inevitable, but even so, it causes the bile to rise at the back of my throat.
Michael Jackson, as you might have heard, is dead. The King of Pop has moonwalked his way to the great gig in the sky and now the real business has begun of selling his death to the masses.
It’s nothing new, of course. Ever since The King (no assignation needed) checked out of Heartbreak Hotel the money makers have been quick to cash in and milk the grieving fans for all they are worth. The same thing happened with Cobain, Mercury, Lennon and lest we forget the Queen of our Hearts, Diana Spencer.
Somehow, though, and perhaps because no entertainer since Elvis has permeated society and culture in the way the Jackson did, the frenzy surrounding his death seems particularly distasteful.
Here in the UK a popular ‘chat’ magazine called OK! Has produced its version of a Jackson tribute issue and to show their love and admiration for one of the greatest entertainers of recent times they’ve not gone with the obvious picture from his finest years, nor one of him as a doting father, nor even one of his recent visit to London to announce his record breaking run of shows at the O2.
No, instead they’ve gone with a close up shot of him on a stretcher, oxygen mask strapped to his gaunt face, being wheeled into an ambulance, and if reports are to be believed that he had stopped breathing some time before that, technically dead. Yep, OK magazine really love and respect him.
The other notable cynical ply to tap into the grief of the hardcore Jackson fans comes from the promoter, AEG Live, who have come up with a ruse to attempt to minimise their losses from refunding upwards of £50 million in ticket sales that would be laughable if it weren’t so sickening.
Knowing that the ‘true’ Jackson fans will want some final memento to remember their hero by, they are making the kind offer of allowing the fans to be sent the original tickets for the gig, a hologram encased in plastic designed by Jackson himself, in return for waiving their right to a refund.
Now, given that the average ticket price was somewhere between £50 and £75, and that the tickets themselves must have cost all of a pound at most to produce (and probably considerably less given that there will have been approximately one million of them produced), this is nothing but a shameless ploy to play on the emotions of the diehard fans who will want to have something to remember the night they never saw their hero.
These examples are but two of many that I’m sure we’ll see over the next few weeks, the most obvious being the currently in production DVD of the tour rehearsals that will no doubt be released ‘because the fans demanded it’, but the one saving grace is that Jackson himself, whatever you thought of him, is not around to suffer anymore at the hands of those who seek nothing more than to exploit him.
Michael Jackson, as you might have heard, is dead. The King of Pop has moonwalked his way to the great gig in the sky and now the real business has begun of selling his death to the masses.
It’s nothing new, of course. Ever since The King (no assignation needed) checked out of Heartbreak Hotel the money makers have been quick to cash in and milk the grieving fans for all they are worth. The same thing happened with Cobain, Mercury, Lennon and lest we forget the Queen of our Hearts, Diana Spencer.
Somehow, though, and perhaps because no entertainer since Elvis has permeated society and culture in the way the Jackson did, the frenzy surrounding his death seems particularly distasteful.
Here in the UK a popular ‘chat’ magazine called OK! Has produced its version of a Jackson tribute issue and to show their love and admiration for one of the greatest entertainers of recent times they’ve not gone with the obvious picture from his finest years, nor one of him as a doting father, nor even one of his recent visit to London to announce his record breaking run of shows at the O2.
No, instead they’ve gone with a close up shot of him on a stretcher, oxygen mask strapped to his gaunt face, being wheeled into an ambulance, and if reports are to be believed that he had stopped breathing some time before that, technically dead. Yep, OK magazine really love and respect him.
The other notable cynical ply to tap into the grief of the hardcore Jackson fans comes from the promoter, AEG Live, who have come up with a ruse to attempt to minimise their losses from refunding upwards of £50 million in ticket sales that would be laughable if it weren’t so sickening.
Knowing that the ‘true’ Jackson fans will want some final memento to remember their hero by, they are making the kind offer of allowing the fans to be sent the original tickets for the gig, a hologram encased in plastic designed by Jackson himself, in return for waiving their right to a refund.
Now, given that the average ticket price was somewhere between £50 and £75, and that the tickets themselves must have cost all of a pound at most to produce (and probably considerably less given that there will have been approximately one million of them produced), this is nothing but a shameless ploy to play on the emotions of the diehard fans who will want to have something to remember the night they never saw their hero.
These examples are but two of many that I’m sure we’ll see over the next few weeks, the most obvious being the currently in production DVD of the tour rehearsals that will no doubt be released ‘because the fans demanded it’, but the one saving grace is that Jackson himself, whatever you thought of him, is not around to suffer anymore at the hands of those who seek nothing more than to exploit him.
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