If We Didn't Have Bad Luck...

As the saying goes "If we didn't have bad luck, we'd have no luck at all."  Welcome to the to the last two weeks where everything that could go wrong, did.

Rewind to the 8th of May.  A great occasion as my eldest son celebrated his 18th birthday in fine and traditional style.  Much dancing and drinking, fun and laughter and to borrow a phrase from my cousin "A jolly time was had by all."

Fast forward 24 hours and the disasters began.  My wife slipped in the shower and fractured her coccyx.  We spent some hours in A&E before she was sent home with Codeine and told to rest for two weeks.  Returning home we discovered the dog was very lame, bouncing around on three legs.  A trip to the vets left me out of pocket with some more medication, a diagnosis of a tweaked cruciate ligament and instructions to cage rest a hyperactive Border Collie for at least a week.

With extra time on her hands, my wife attempted to organise an upgrade for the 18 year olds mobile phone.  A five minute job turned into a five day epic as the nameless provider gave what can only be described as the worst customer service experience we have ever known. 

First she tried online.  The system kept crashing.  When she rang up they struggled to accept the payment of the correct upgrade fee.  Then once the fee was paid, they lost it.  Then they found it, but couldn't proceed with the order because there was already an order on the system.  Then when the order was finally placed, the contract couldn't be signed because there was another on the system that had to expire first.  Then the handset was out of stock.  Then it wasn't and it eventually arrived.  Then the SIM card was faulty and they had to send another.

Next my mother rang to say my 96 year old Nan had fallen and was in hospital.  Also her cousin had died suddenly after a short battle with cancer.  My wife then received the news that her 97 year old aunt had died.

If all that wasn't enough, there was The Fridge.

Ever since we moved into our house we've had two Fridge/Freezers.  This is because, before we got together my wife and I had one each.  Lately one of the fridges has begun to fail as it was fairly ancient.  The other on its own was too small for us and since we have a chest freezer, we have been on the lookout for a suitable large fridge.  Matters became more urgent when our daughters Fridge/Freezer died suddenly.  We made a plan to give away the ancient fridge, give the working one to our daughter, and replace them both with a new fridge.  

To that end we had a voucher which entitled us to a selection from an online retailer.  The selection wasn't great, but one appliance appeared to be just the thing.  A 70:30 split Fridge/Freezer with next day delivery.  We just had to pay £90 extra.  Order placed, money paid, job done.

Except.  When it arrived it was an integrated Fridge/Freezer, not freestanding as advertised.  The type that fits into a cupboard, no use to us at all.  So it was sent back and we investigated the alternatives from the retailer.  There was nothing suitable unless we were prepared to pay £500+ extra.  So after much swearing I bought an American fridge/freezer from Facebook Marketplace for £160.

Pleased to have reached a solution, youngest son and I set off into the depths of Lancashire in the Land Rover to collect it.  LG, Shiny, Silver, Water and Ice Dispenser.  Sounds perfect so what could possibly go wrong?

We transported it home.  Put it in the kitchen.  Let it settle for six hours.  Then plugged it in.  It lit up and then, all the fuses in the house blew.

It's times like these when all you can do is laugh.

With all that had happened, with MOT's due on both cars, a daughter desperate for our fridge and a large LG paperweight in the kitchen we went to the pub to mull things over.  The restorative effect of a well known Belgian lager worked wonders.

After chatting with a friend and testing some circuits on the fridge I discovered the freezer defrost heater had failed.  A new one ordered for thirty quid and the liberal use of a screwdriver repaired the fridge, we even have the Ice Dispenser working.

Daughter is delighted, she has her own fridge again.  We are relieved, my wife's condition has improved, my Nan just has some bruising and is staying with my Mum for the time being.  The dog isn't lame, eldest son has a new phone and we have ice for our Gin & Tonics.

Maybe our luck might finally be changing.  Maybe.

Time For a Rant; Well Sort Of...

Recently I've got myself a bit worked up, which for me is most unusual.  What's even more unusual is that I have been critical of a couple of live performances and more particularly the performers themselves which is something I almost never do.  Generally all performers deserve the benefit of the doubt.  It's damn hard to get up on stage and perform in any discipline.  So why did I get so annoyed?  In the words of the late Max Bygraves "Let me tell you a story."

On a recent Sunday afternoon my wife and I decided to go to one of our local hostelries to meet some friends and watch a band.  Advertised to start from 4pm we arrived in good time.  The band did not.  At 4:30 two guys wandered in and began to set up.  It turned out that the band were in fact a guitarist and singer.  Not usually a problem but they had a third electronic member of the group.  A drum machine which had not been programmed, it was just a start/stop triggered by a pedal.  They played to their backing track for an hour and then packed up and went home.  They weren't terrible.  The singer was good and the guitarist could play.  Some of the other patrons even sang along to Sweet Caroline at the finale, but I felt angry that I had been a bit short changed somehow.  

Now I'll admit I'm not a big fan of artists using backing tracks.  It's all a bit too close to Karaoke for me, but that wasn't what was annoying me.  Having had a few soothing ales, a telling off from my wife and exchanged some ranty WhatsApp messages to some musical friends I calmed down, but the experience was still niggling me.  Why was I so upset?

A week or so later we decided to watch a 'singing comedian' at another local pub.  We took the time to research the guy on social media.  He seemed to come highly recommended, boasting of performances in Europe and the US, as well as apparently writing material for the BBC.  Hopes were high, but unfortunately they fell rapidly.  

Comedy is subjective and what I find funny might well baffle the next man.  Sadly this guy's routine baffled everyone.  It wasn't just that he wasn't funny.  His delivery was poor, rushed and at times incoherent.  His songs might have been careful and amusing observations of life, but were ruined by the fact he couldn't play guitar or indeed sing.  It was a slow motion car crash.  He was expected to entertain for 90 minutes but bailed out after 25.  The landlord unimpressed refused to pay him his expected fee.

I suddenly realised what it was that had been bugging me.

Whenever I have been on stage the one thing that I have always done before hand is rehearse like mad.  Not just rehearse a bit but an awful lot.  This is probably something I picked up from my Dad and his parents who were actors.  Thinking back to my first gig at school, we played just two songs, six minutes of performance, but we spent months rehearsing.

At University the band I was in rehearsed religiously every Sunday for four hours.  The same songs, at the same old warehouse studio in Liverpool, over and over again to make sure we got them right.  As we pretty much lived together we would play and sing at home too.  We spent hours honing and refining so the songs became second nature.

Even now with my band we rehearse every week, and we all practice at home.

What annoyed me was the way these artists seemed to be taking some kind of short cut.  Not programming the backing track properly for example seems to me to be just lazy and it detracted from their otherwise good performance.  

The comedian didn't seem to have rehearsed his material or delivery at all.  It takes a lot of guts to get booked into venues and expect to get paid for a poor performance.  To fail to prepare is to prepare to fail as they say.  

I guess what it boils down to is a hint of jealousy.  I wouldn't dream of performing anything unless I was really confident it would be of a good standard.  Well at least in my mind anyway, others may disagree.  The fact that these guys were getting away with so much less preparation was very frustrating.

That amount of courage, in some perverse way has to be admired.  Now if anyone wants me I'll be practicing the solo to All My Loving.  Again.

Why Do I Want To Write?

 

I have toyed with the idea of writing for several years.  Every time I consider it I get excited by the prospect, think of the endless creative possibilities and freedom being a successful writer would bring, and then the doubts begin to trickle in.

“You don’t know how to write.”

“Stick to something you know, you’re a good and experienced teacher.”

“You’ll never make any money, you’ll just get rejected and look like an idiot!”

“You’ve got too much to do, you can’t spare the time, the kids need you.”

"You've never shown any talent in that area before.  Remember your GCSE English Coursework."

All this self-doubt of course is just an excuse.  Procrastination should be an Olympic sport!  Well with the onset of Covid-19 and having completed every DIY job on the list I find myself with no alternative but to finally take the plunge. 

Why do I want to write?  I want to express myself creatively.  

How thoroughly pretentious.  Well maybe, but there is something magical about creating a story.  Inventing characters and giving them their own hopes and dreams.  There is certainly something devilish in deciding their fate, whatever it may be.

There is also a pleasure in being able to relive events, people and places by describing them and commenting on the effect they have on me and those around me for the benefit of others.

Those that know me personally will say, "but you're in a band, you sing and play guitar and write your own songs."  Absolutely it is a lot of fun, and the three hooligans I share the stage with are my closest friends.  We have a great time doing it and long may it continue.  Nevertheless there is a creative itch that being in a rock and roll covers band doesn't quite scratch.  Generally people want to hear Blue Suede Shoes, not anything that I could write as a songwriter, although they don't always get the choice. 

So why not do another musical project?  An excellent question.  I have some musical talent and I could always play some solo gigs, or write and record a solo album. That's all likely to be the subject another blog post in itself.  I certainly have some plans in that area so stay tuned. 

But, I want to be able to scratch that creative itch in a different way.  I have stories to tell if I can find the audience to listen and indeed if I can express myself confidently with enough purpose.

It's that expressing myself confidently that is the difficult bit.  I suffer from anxiety as you might of guessed from the quotes above.  It's a legacy from working in some very toxic schools.  In such environments you are under constant scrutiny and the micro-management causes your mental health to suffer.  You can be a thoroughly resilient person, but the drip, drip effect takes its toll eventually.  Starting to write has helped me build some confidence again, but to get to this stage and actually trying to get articles published has been a real challenge.

Now with the support of family and friends I’m suddenly being all brave and taking some baby steps towards becoming a writer, but what have I achieved so far?  Well, if you're reading this blog then, obviously there is this!  I've been studying a writing course with The Writers Bureau, and I also had an article published in The Bentham News my local news magazine.

I've got a novel in progress and even an idea for a non-fiction biography, as well as a load of articles I've written as part of my course.  I'll be looking for more opportunities to get these published going forwards.

So what of the future?  I want to continue to hone my writing skills and develop enough self confidence to cast my anxieties back into the shadows.  I don’t expect to be JK Rowling, or even EL James, but I'd like to become a full-time writer.