Life – Page 3 – Middle Age Fanclub

Always Look on The Bright Side – things that made me smile in May!

These days, there are times when it feels like there’s really not a lot of room for hope or optimism. Too much about our world is more likely to make us scowl than smile. Whether it be war, poverty, global warming or something as simple as bad traffic or talentless celebrities, it can feel like there’s not a lot to smile about. However, if you look really carefully, you’re sure to find at least something good.

Hence, this blog. It’s something I do whenever I can find enough to write about that’s genuinely made me smile. But it’s been missing from my site for a little while because I’ve really struggled to find something that gives me any optimism.

Well, that all changed last month. So, here we go…and as a bonus, there’s more than the usual five things too!

The sun! Now granted, there’s not been a lot of it in our corner of the world, but it’s still enough to raise a smile. Being able to wander round in shorts is always refreshing (even with my legs!), but even little things like not having to worry about the rain have been great too. On a couple of weekends I’ve even been able to sit our in my back garden and read my book in the sun, which for me is always a blessing. Here’s hoping that there will be a lot more sun to come in the next few months!

A school library in a plane. As an English teacher I’ve always been a fan of libraries. So reading about a primary school in Bristol that has turned a plane fuselage into a library really made me smile. St. Helen’s Primary in Alveston had previously saved up to buy the fuselage in order to turn it into a library as well as an outdoor classroom. The pupils seem to love it and the school have also created a book club that meets in the plane library too!

Eriskay FC. This was another thing that I read about on the BBC website. Eriskay FC play their football in the Outer Hebrides, which if you don’t know, are a series of islands off the west coast of Scotland. Their pitch has been named by FIFA as one of the eight most remarkable places to play football on the planet. Now, as someone who used to coach in junior football, I’ve visited some weird and wonderful pitches. None have been as remarkable as this one though. Have a look for yourselves!

Not only are their sheep grazing on the pitch – and all that they leave behind to clear up before you play – but it’s far from a flat surface. And imagine the breeze coming off the sea!

This year’s Pontefract 10k! I’ve already written about this race on a previous blog, but it’s safe to say that it made me smile for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s just a race that I really enjoy. It’s got a really friendly atmosphere and it’s quite a testing course too. Secondly though, smiling for this one was a conscious decision. I’m sick of being caught grimacing or looking like I might be about to die by race photographers and so this year I decided to keep an eye open for them and make sure that I was smiling as I approached them! It almost worked as well, but having seen some of the official photos it seems clear that yes, I’m smiling, but also I look shattered! Finally, the race also made me smile because it represents another step forward in living with my pacemaker and there can’t be enough of those!

John Bishop. John is a stand up comedian and last month we went to see his live show. We’ve never seen John live before, but he’s always been a very funny man. A lot of his set revolved around middle age issues and so I was able to empathise, as well as laughing along heartily. We’ve seen a few comedians so far this year and being able to sit and laugh for a couple of hours is an extra good medicine if you’re feeling any kind of stress or strain. Anyway, I wrote a review of the gig for another website, so feel free to have a read on the link below.

https://rgm.press/john-bishop-live-in-halifax-what-happened/news/

Childhood Sweethearts. I think I’m getting old, you know! And this next bit shows it! I was reading the BBC website one morning and stumbled across a tale of lost love with a happy ending. I suddenly couldn’t resist a click! Bill and Anne were just 13 when they first met and Bill fell head over heels in love. However, he dithered about making his move and then, well, life just got in the way. But a chance meeting with a friend of Anne’s on a golf trip many years later led to them eventually getting back together. And the smiliest part of it all? The couple eventually got married, aged 77! You can read Bill and Anne’s story on the link below.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cnee2wjxpvzo

I’m sure you’ll agree that May had a good few reasons for smiling and I hope it was a good month for you too. I hope you enjoyed reading and that what you’ve looked at maybe raised a smile with you too!

Poetry Blog: ‘A Day at the Lake’

This is a poem about one of our first family holidays, when there was just the three of us. It’s one of those memories that I think will always stick with me and one that I can summon really easily.

The poem is about a tiny bit of a break we had in the Lake District when my daughter was just a toddler. It covers those protective feelings that you have as a parent. A swan nipped my daughter’s finger when she was giving bread to the ducks and it threatened to spoil the day. Later, when she’d calmed down, we moved round the lake a bit, took our shoes and socks off and had a bit of a paddle, or a plodge as we call it where I’m from.

Anyway, have a read.

A Day at the Lake

Earlier that day a rogue swan had nipped at your finger
after you'd steeled yourself and trusted mum enough
to offer it some bread.
You sobbed into her warm, protective arms,
soothed just a little by her calming words,
while nearby I seethed with rage,
fists clenched, tensed, 
until common sense reminded me that
you can't punch swans.
They belong to the queen, you know.

Later, plodging in the lake on a different shore
and at a suitable distance from your attacker and his cronies,
your little hands gripped mine and told me
that you didn't much like the numbing cold of the water
on your legs and didn't want to feel the spite of pebbles
digging into your bare feet.
But you clung on, held your own, as you always would.

Later still, as we made our way back,
you ran off across a thigh high meadow
that laughed along with you,
your awkward limbs flailing for speed and distance,
enjoying this rare but heady mix of freedom and terror
and a loosening of the reigns for once,
because, swan now a distant memory, surely lightning could not strike twice
in such a beautiful spot as this.

With the determination that you've clung to for life,
you ran and ran, giggling loudly at your sudden independence,
ignoring the cries of 'not too far'
until it was decided that there was too much rope
and I caught you, scooped you up,
pretending to drop you for another thrill,
then hauled you up, onto my shoulders
as some kind of halfway house between wrapping you in cotton wool
and letting you know that sometimes, it's good to test the limits.

I joke about it in the poem, but I was beyond angry at that swan! And I really had to stop myself from behaving terribly. I guess it was another one of those days when you discover the lengths that you’re prepared to go to as a protective father!

Whenever I think about that day, I can clearly picture my daughter running away from us across the meadow as we headed back to the car. White shorts dungarees, a pink t-shirt and a rainbow belt around her dungarees with her hair in pigtails. She’s always been a little headstrong and I think we saw early signs of it that day, although it remains a really happy memory and it was particularly funny at the time. Like any newish parents though, we were over-protective and so, while we laughed we probably both wanted to just take off across the field and catch her, just to make sure that no more harm came to her! And eventually, we did!

I hope you enjoyed the poem.

Running: As Spring heads into Summer, here’s a cautionary tale.

I’ve labelled this as a running blog, but with the weather beginning to heat up, I guess it’s just a cautionary tale for lots of us, really.

On Friday I went out for my usual after work run. I’m currently training for an upcoming 10k and so had hoped to run the same distance, just to see how it felt. However, even as I went out at just before 6pm, it was still 24 degrees, which is hot for us northerners. It would have been hot to sit in, but I chose to go for a run!

It was an absolutely beautiful evening. The sun was shining in a lovely blue sky and there wasn’t much of a breeze. But it didn’t take long for me to realise that this was going to be a bit of a struggle.

After a couple of miles, while I wasn’t struggling, I was uncomfortable. The heat meant that I was losing my focus and in turn I was thinking about the fact that I was too warm, too thirsty and beginning to feel tired. I had also begun to fuss about little things; my right trainer didn’t feel tight enough and this was beginning to really bug me, so I had to focus again quickly. I began to think about my route and also to give myself short term goals like quickening my pace or dropping my shoulders a bit or even just counting my steps to retain concentration.

It didn’t work. In the end I got my mileage all wrong. First, I got confused between two routes and took a wrong turning, believing that I had enough route left to comfortably manage the 10k without having to run up a ridiculous hill for the final half mile. Then, having checked my watch a few times, I misread how far I’d gone. The heat befuddled my brain enough that I couldn’t add up anymore and a while later was dismayed to find that I’d only done 4 miles when I thought I’d have covered 5! I knew then that managing a 10k was going to be difficult.

But things got worse. As I got closer to home I realised that my left hand was feeling a bit numb. Now, as a heart patient, any left sided action (pain, numbness etc) can leave you panicking. Something about it didn’t feel right and I was quite concerned. I kept on running though and as I did I realised that my watch felt too tight on my wrist. So, with a little difficulty. I loosened it off. But this still didn’t solve the numbness.

Slightly later and closer to the end of my run I noticed that my hands looked swollen. On closer inspection my wedding ring felt absurdly tight and as a man with thin, girly fingers this was a bit of a surprise! My hands and wrists had swollen right up and I can only put it down to being far too hot. Needless to say, after just short of 6 miles and with a big hill to come before I’d hit home, I stopped, rather than risking reaching boiling point!

When I eventually made it home my hands were still so swollen that I had to just stand with them in a sink of ice cold water for a good 10 minutes, while occasionally taking them out in order to drink more water. Despite trying to run in shade I’d put myself in real danger.

As I said, it’s a cautionary tale. And so, I’ll end with a bit of common sense advice (which I failed to adhere too because I clearly lack common sense). If you’re out for a run in the heat you’d be wise to…

Hydrate properly. Drink enough beforehand and maybe take some with you. And when you finish, drink copious amounts of water!
Maybe wear a hat, regardless of how gormless you think you’ll look. It’s still a better look than swollen hands or ending up flat on your back on a pavement somewhere.
Find the shade. Run in as much of it as you can manage.
Wear some suncream or sun block.
Make sure that you warm down and stretch properly once your exercise is over with.
And if your hands swell up so that you look like someone holding a couple of red balloon animals, get them in some water as quickly as possible!

Enjoy the warmer weather!

Book Review: The Garbage King by Elizabeth Laird

The Garbage King is a story that’s largely aimed at kids, probably from Year 6 upwards. However, a good story is a good story, no matter who it’s aimed at. I stumbled upon it when I was looking for ideas for my reluctant reader son to try and thus, having read only good things about the book, I decided to give it a go myself!

The Garbage King tells the story of street children in Ethiopia and helps us to understand that regardless of their background, children are essentially very vulnerable and that anything can happen to any of them. Such is the case with Dani and Mamo, two kids from opposite ends of the social scale who end up on the street together.

After a harrowing episode in his early life where he’s sold to a rural family as a slave, Dani escapes back to Addis Ababa and begins his life on the streets. So far, life has been brutal and painful for Dani and the streets of Ethiopia’s capital don’t make things any better.

Meanwhile, across town Mamo lives in a lovely house in a quiet, exclusive area. He has the trappings of a wealthy family, but is failing in school and his strict father is not impressed. Fearing his fate when his lack of academic progress is revealed, he decides that there’s only one thing for it; to run away. Before he knows it he too is living on the streets. But while one boy relies on his wits and guile to stay alive, the other is a sitting duck. And then a chance encounter between the two boys changes both of their lives.

The Garbage King is an excellent read. Elizabeth Laird gives the reader a brilliant, and I have to assume authentic view, of life on the streets of Addis Ababa. Certainly, as I was reading I felt like I could easily imagine what it looked like as well as hearing the sounds of the city and even being able to imagine the smell of some of the food being described. It was clearly not the kind of hustle and bustle that would be safe for a child though.

Danger seems to lie at every corner of Laird’s Addis Ababa, making The Garbage King a tense read at times. As a reader, there’s a genuine sense of fear for both of the boys, but especially the naïve Mamo. Luckily though, he has Dani to look out for him, so although life is now distinctly uncomfortable, there’s slightly less immediate danger.

There are twists and turns to The Garbage King, making it a real page turner at times. As poor Mamo lies freezing at night, too terrified to sleep, it made me think of my own son and how frightened I’d be if he happened to find himself in a similar situation. It’s bad enough when he’s out camping!

Laird’s characters are fantastically written. We’re onside with Dani from the very start of the novel. Life is tough for him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, he shows guts and determination in order to get out of the initial situation that he finds himself in and when he’s finally made safe by the kindness of a stranger, we feel happy for him. He’s bright and likeable and so when fate deals him a losing hand, we’re willing things to get better. And when the various dangers of life on the busy city streets catch up with him, we’re desperate for him to stay safe.

As the novel rolls on the boys find their feet on the streets. As there’s safety in numbers, they fall in with a small gang, but danger and misfortune is still never far away. For now though, life is a lot better than it could have been had they not seen off a few of the predators that lurk in the shadows. Ultimately though, both boys just want life to return to some sort of normality

Will Dani ever see his sister again? Will Mamo be able to return home to his strict father? Well, you’ll have to read and find out!

I give ‘The Garbage King’…

The Apprentice: Here comes the final!

So, after what feels like a lifetime chock full of business tasks fuelled by a combination of bizarre decisions and downright ineptitude, we’re mere hours away from another Apprentice finale. And even though I don’t feel that I’ve been as invested in the candidates as I might have been in previous years, I cannot wait!

This year’s finalists are gym owner Rachel Woolford and pie company boss Phil Turner. And it’s anyone’s guess who’ll win out. Unless you’re Lord Sugar of course, who I reckon won’t just guess who he gives £250,000 to.

Even in the interviews it felt like a bit of a lottery in terms of who would make the final. However, once it emerged that Tre didn’t have a business plan or really, a product and that Paul had chosen the wrong plan and that you or I knew just about as much as he did about scrubs, then the field was kind of narrowed down. In fact, given what happened in this year’s interview episode, I’m considering just turning up myself next year with some ideas scrawled down on a crumpled piece of paper titled, ‘Why I need Lord Sugar’s £250,000′ by Graham aged 53. I reckon I’d still have a bit of a chance of making the final.

Of the two finalists, it’s perhaps inevitable that we might look on Rachel as the favourite. Not only has she shown a fair amount of business acumen, hard work and determination throughout the series, but she’s up against Phil! Phil! The very same Phil who lost all of the first 9 tasks and seemed to be in the boardroom fighting for his life every other week. But then again, he’s in the final for a reason. We have to presume that Lord Sugar and his people have spotted something in him, surely. None of us has much idea what it might be though!

Last week, Phil added to his Apprentice legacy by revealing in the interviews that he hasn’t seen a set of accounts for his business for about a decade. OK, I’m exaggerating there, but the bloke literally sat and told scary Mike Soutar that he hadn’t seen his accounts for a couple of years. I’m no business viking (as no doubt someone must have referred to themselves over the years), but that feels like me not looking at the fuel gauge in my car for a fortnight and just hoping that I’ll keep getting to where I’m going.

Both candidates seem to have successful businesses and both just want to make them bigger. Fair enough. Rachel wants more gyms – and while we continue to obsess over how we look on social media then we’ll always need more gyms! I mean, where else would the country’s vain halfwits find mirrors big enough to pose in?

Phil, on the other hand, wants to expand his pie business after admitting that he didn’t have the vision to take it any further. And after he made a truffle flavoured vegan cheese that didn’t really taste of truffle…or cheese for that matter, in the last task, you can possibly see why he thinks he lacks vision I suppose.

Conspiracy theorists will have you believe that Phil is being set up to win. I mean, I certainly can’t remember a series where someone failed so spectacularly every week and then still made the final. Some have also pointed to the fact that in his win or bust task – the vegan cheese one – he was given the strongest of the other candidates on his team. But then, some of these people probably still think that the Earth is flat.

So, get yourselves set for an exciting final. There’s no clear favourite, but definitely an underdog. But, with the help of some, if not all of the other candidates from the series, there will be one last task to get through before Lord Sugar decides who he’s going to invest in. And of course, there’s my favourite bit of all; where the two successful candidates have to walk into the room for their pitch, usually down one of the longest walkways or staircases in the modern world. It has to be one of the most awkward TV moments of the year and every year a little bit of is secretly hoping for a trip!

The Apprentice 2024 Final. Can’t wait!

Book Review: The Runner by Markus Torgeby.

As a young man, Markus Torgeby quickly grew disaffected by a lot of what the world around him had to offer. He knew that society’s expectations were not for him. Despite being a talented runner though, he sensed that pursuing this as any kind of career was not going to work. Too often, injury or just not being in the right mindset got in the way of any kind of competitive edge. As he says himself at the start of the book, “My head was full of dark thoughts. I didn’t know what to do. I had to rethink what it was I really wanted, I had to find a way out of that well.”

What Markus did next – which is documented in the book – seems both astonishing and really quite wonderful.

‘The Runner’ is an international best seller and tells the tale of one man and his quest to find contentment. In short, Torgeby headed up into the Swedish wilderness to live in a tent and dedicate himself to a more simple life, where money didn’t matter, but running most certainly did.

It’s an amazing true life tale, beginning in Jamtland, northern Sweden where the temperature is -22 and Markus is the only person for miles around. This is where he escapes the norms of society, pitching his tent and living among nature complete with enormous amounts of snow, elk and even the threat of bears.

As you’d imagine from the title, running is very much central to Torgeby’s existence. When he vows to run every day, he means it and nothing will stop him, be that extreme weather conditions, injury or mental health issues. Torgeby isn’t just testing his fitness – he’s pitting himself against both the most extreme elements and also just the odds.

Running is where Markus is at peace and I have to say that resonated with me, as I’m sure it would with many runners. The only difference would be – and it’s a seismic difference – that while the majority of us are running around the civilised, normal streets or trails near where we live, Markus Torgeby is running around in one of the most isolated, northernmost territories on the planet! There are threats to life almost with every step he takes. This is not the tale of an everyday runner, despite the fact that he runs every day!

‘The Runner’ is actually really well written and Torgeby rarely shies away from telling us exactly how he’s feeling or what he thinks of the world, even if it can be uncomfortable to read at times. His blunt honesty is one of the most positive features of the book and it’s hard not to be impressed by Torgeby’s principles and way of life.

And then there’s the sheer courage of it all. As someone who rarely takes much in the way of risks, ‘The Runner’ makes for an absolutely fascinating read. Torgeby leaves home to live his life his way when he’s barely much more than a child. And yet, his lifestyle choice is utterly remarkable, especially when you know that he is burdened by the thought of his mother’s suffering, back at home. She suffers with MS and some of the most beautiful passages in the book revolve around her relationship with her son, as he cares for her and helps to make sure that she is still able to experience the wonder of the world around her.

After four years of living in his tent in the wilderness, Markus begins to come to terms with the world around him and the contentment that follows – I won’t spoil what that consists of – gives us a bit of a happy ending.

Part of me felt jealous of Torgeby while reading the book and I questioned some of my early adult decisions in life. It’s funny how something like this can take us back and make us more self critical. Ultimately though, at the age when Markus left home for the wilderness I was probably barely able to cook for myself, let alone live in a tent in some of the most unforgiving territory on the planet, so I was able to give myself a break after all!

Whether you’re a runner, health freak, someone with an adventurous spirit or none of those things, this book is a great read. For me personally, it was interesting to see that I had things in common with the writer and that we shared such a love of running. Ultimately though, if you like an interesting take on life or just enjoy learning about some of the bolder ways to live, then you’ll enjoy this book.

I give ‘The Runner’ by Markus Torgeby

Poetry Blog: ‘Willow’

It’s the Easter holidays and as I’ve got some time on my hands I decided to sit down and try and write something for the blog. Other commitments have been getting in the way of late and so my blog has been very much neglected.

So, with not a lot in mind to write about, I thought I’d trawl through some notebooks and accompanying scraps of paper in order to see what poetry I have knocking about. It turns out that there are quite a few that have either been started or simply finished and then just left and so, after quite a bit of reading I decided to add this one to the blog. It brings back a lot of memories and I really like it.

Willow

As the spots of rain get heavier 
and begin to change the colour of the roads
and pavements around,
you scramble for the familiar shelter
of the giant old weeping willow.

Everyone is out, the house locked up,
but you chose friends, football and 
the top of the hill Wembley of a pub car park
over the visit to family,
and now that team mates have chosen bricks and mortar for cover,
solitude in nature is forced upon you.

A mass of leaves and sagging branches provide ample sanctuary,
so you position yourself so not to be seen
from either road or the neighbour's house,
shift your knees up to your chest and enjoy this place
where there is no shouting, no conflict and
no storm of any kind.

The willow tree in question here is the one that we had in the garden of my childhood home. Everyone else regarded it as a nuisance because of its sheer size and mass of leaves that would be shed in autumn and litter the surrounding area, but I loved it.

I’d play in it as a small child, inventing games and characters and swinging on those branches. As I got older it became somewhere to hide and just be on my own, away from what I remember now, rightly or wrongly, as a lot of shouting and anger in our house. Sometimes, as in the poem, it was just a convenient shelter of a different kind as the rain just didn’t seem to get through it. As I got older, I’d often stay at home when my parents went across to see family, but would rarely remember to take a key. These things got forgotten when there was a game of football about to start! And so, I’d end up just sitting under the tree to escape the elements.

In later years, after we had moved out, the tree was cut down. I still kind of miss it to this day.

Spring, where the first cut is the deepest, noisiest and the smelliest!

Well, it would appear that we’re well and truly right in the throes of Spring! The weather is largely warming up – although we stood out in hail while volunteering at ParkRun this weekend – and the days are getting lighter all round. There’s colour in the garden and I’ve also been able to get some washing out on the line, which always makes me feel a bit more optimistic about the time of year…I don’t really know why.

Today though, I thought I’d write a little bit about my morning and the sights, sounds and the feel of Spring that I got to experience. Let’s just say that none of it really stuck to the stereotypes!

So, this morning, seeing that we were going to have dry weather until early afternoon, I took the opportunity to give our back lawn its first cut of the year. It’s always an arduous job as by the time the weather is good enough, the lawn has always grown to a good few inches in length and is soaking wet, meaning that it will take hours to get through. In truth, I despise having to do it!

At this point, I’ll introduce my neighbour. Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely, well meaning elderly gentleman who’d do anything for us. He’s also very hard of hearing and loves to chat. The job of listening to him generally falls to me and believe me when I say that sometimes this can be even more arduous than cutting the lawn as he never really hears what I’m saying and has a tendency to repeat a lot of what he’s already said to me!

Anyway, having got the mower out of the shed and put it back together – it’s over 10 years old and very much on its last legs – I started to mow, kind of knowing exactly what would happen next. I was still surprised by the immediacy though!

After no more than 20 seconds of mowing I heard the click of the neighbour’s gate – one of the first sounds of spring round these parts. And when I looked up, there he was. My neighbour. He didn’t really wait for me, just set off talking. So the mowing got delayed for a while!

Our back garden is bordered by houses on both sides. My aforementioned neighbour’s garden runs parallel to ours, but on the other side, the end of two gardens back onto us. One of these neighbours has a terrible habit of clearing his throat and nose, very loudly. He seems to save it all up for the moment he sees me in the garden as well. It’s not something I hear much of through winter as I’m not outside anywhere near as much. However, this morning just as I’d reached the end of the first couple of strips of the garden, there it was. Another delightful spring sound. A wonderful hacking of the throat and nose sounding like it had been played through Glastonbury’s PA system, all the way from inside his house to the middle of my garden. And every time I stopped mowing, there it was a again! This must have gone on for about 10 minutes! So, no nightingales singing, just the sound of phlegm!

I had the wonderful Spring experience of clearing fallen blooms away too. We have an enormous camellia that gives us an abundance of huge bright pink flowers from February. It’s genuinely stunning. However, the downside is that by the time I come to cut the lawn, hundreds of flowers have fallen from the plant and litter the garden. And I get the job of having to pick them all up, as if I mow them they splatter all over the place. In turn, picking them up gives me the wonderful sensation of soaking wet flowers in my hands and also quite a few slugs, who seem to find the flowers far too good to resist. I hate anything on my hands, so this genuinely makes me feel queasy.

Later, sounds included a really annoying crow, some girls walking along the footpath that borders the back of my garden and swearing loudly and my neighbour’s wife asking if he wanted a cup of tea – she didn’t extend the offer to me. I also managed to unearth some cat poo in the long grass, before sliding through it a little later and suffering the stench of it every time I went near!

Finally, the sounds of spring reached a wonderful crescendo when my neighbour came to talk to me twice more; once to rant about the price of the new England football shirt and the modifications made to the flag of St. George on the back of it – capitalism, mate – and then to talk of something that seems to be uniquely him!

He’s a keen gardener and tends to order his plants off the internet. However, I swear that every time he does, they seem to mess up his order. And then, when he complains, the companies always seem to send him more than he needs. This isn’t just restricted to plants; he’s had plant pots too. And he always offers us his cast offs, which is nice, but even when we politely decline he just doesn’t listen and brings stuff around anyway! This happened again today, which given that we’ve only just started ‘garden season’ is quite some going! Anyway, to cut a long story short, despite turning them down we’re due to get a load of free mystery plants in a few weeks. Lord knows what we’ll do with them!

So, Spring has indeed sprung. But round these parts there’s no delightful birdsong or the smell of budding roses; no, just elderly neighbours, coughing and sniffing of Olympic proportions, wet and dirty, slug laden hands and the feeling of almost pulling a hamstring as you slide through hidden cat poo!

Reader, I hope your Spring is going better than mine!

The Apprentice Episode 6 – Cereal Losers.

Although I was able to watch last week’s episode, time constraints meant that a blog update just wasn’t possible. And perhaps it was a good thing to give myself a rest from my own cynicism about this year’s candidates!

This week our merry bunch of halfwits find themselves without Onyeka, while probably all puzzling over the mystery of what Virdi is still doing there. And if no one is asking the question of what it is that Steve actually does, then it’s got to happen soon.

Tonight, the teams are at the Savoy to learn that their next challenge will be to design and market a new cereal aimed at kids. And for what feels like the umpteenth week in a row, Lord Sugar appears as some kind of cartoon.

Sam and Steve take on the project manager roles and before we know it, we’ve got our cereal ideas. Steve decides that their cereal will be based around superheroes – because if you ignore the million and one superheroes around at the moment, this one hasn’t been done before. Meanwhile, Sam’s team decide on the theme of the Arctic. And that’s not even an attempt at a joke. Their children’s cereal theme really will be based around the Arctic.

There follows a debate about whether or not Sam’s sub team should follow a STRONG RECOMMENMDATION about the fruit content in the recipe. They decide not to because they of course know best. But never mind, because I’m sure this won’t be a decision that will come back to haunt them.

There follows a strange moment where Virdi is caught on camera looking terrified by the mere image of a cartoon polar bear taking shape on the screen before him and for a while I wonder whether he’ll be able to have any effect on tonight’s result. And then I remember, it’s Virdi, so if there’s any dancing to be done he’ll find a way to get involved, but other than being scared of a drawing, that might be tonight’s high point.

Over on the other team, Tre and friends try to come to some important decisions about the character for their cereal by just saying ‘erm’ a lot, before in the end deciding that their superhero needs a cape. A superhero in a cape?Surely, that’ll never catch on.

Having watched both teams grapple with the demands of the target audience I’m left questioning why, year after year, no one on the show ever seems to understand what kids of a certain age might like. It’s up there with the Bermuda Triangle in terms of life’s great mysteries for me.

Later, I’m similarly confused when Maura announces to her team that their kid friendly character is just “an ordinary boy…who’s a polar bear”. Well, I suppose we all went to school with one of those.

The task continues with both teams trying to come up with an augmented reality game that will appeal to kids who have scanned the QR code on the cereal box. As someone who seems to be evermore unable to scan QR codes I’m in full on ‘Virdi meets cartoon polar bear mode’ and my wife has to slap me back to reality, pause the show and make me a hot chocolate in order for me to calm back down.

As expected, both tasks bring out the candidates not so inner idiots and it’s not long before we’re witnessing Noor failing to read words and move at the same time and Virdi deeming a cartoon polar bear as “absolutely amazing”. Well, he changed his tune!

At the taste test, no one seems to be able to taste the passion fruit in the Super Hoops. But is that just because no one’s ever been able to actually finish a passion fruit?

Before we know it, the teams are squaring up to face the industry experts and it’s time for more fun. From the facial expressions in the room it becomes clear that these cereals are not exactly taste sensations. Either that or several of the watching experts have walked through the same fart that Karen does every week. Dentist Paul starts his negotiation with frozen food giant Iceland by telling them that linking up with a cartoon polar bear would be a “match made in Heaven” and you think, he’s got a point…this might work. And then he follows this up by telling them that the cereal tastes bland – that’ll be what happens when you ignore a STRONG RECOMMENDATION – and as the air is sucked out of the room I’m left wondering why he even bothers asking if they’d like to buy some.

On the other side of the room meanwhile, while Phil pushes hard to get a deal out of a reluctant customer, Virdi’s contribution is to pull the kind of faces that suggest he’s mistakenly put on underwear that’s about four sizes too small. No wonder the client walks away.

And then I watch on, out of my business depth (which peaks at about 2mm, if you need to know), while Foluso secures an exclusivity deal with Iceland for 200,000 boxes of Super Hoops cereal. It means that they can’t sell to anyone else for 3 months, but is it a gamble worth taking? I haven’t a clue, but my smidgen of knowledge tells me that 200,000 is a shitload of cereal. And so, it’s over to Sam’s team to see if they can sell more.

It turns out that they can’t.

And so to the boardroom. where Lord Sugar, you’d expect, will have plenty of spontaneous cereal related gags lined up to test Karen and Tim’s acting ability. Instead though, he starts with another tried and tested favourite – making the candidates feel really uncomfortable. And even then, after some initial frost he thaws out quite quickly. A bit like Sam’s team’s Arctic cereal idea, really.

It feels like Sugar has lost heart this evening and there’s a feeling of just going through the motions, which when we hear the sales figures and get the result, you can kind of understand. While Steve’s lot sell the aforementioned 200,000 boxes of cereal, Sam’s team finish a distant second – and lose in a catastrophic manner – selling just over 7000.

It’s all too much for Lord Sugar, who almost explodes with cereal puns, calling Sam’s team ‘cereal losers’ and telling them that when they come back in to the boardroom some of them will be saying ‘Cheerios’. Later, he completes his hat-trick when he refers to the loser’s cereal as being more ‘All Bland’ than ‘All Bran’. It’s like he’s been willing himself not to go too early with the comedy until the point where he literally can’t wait any longer and simply has to blurt out some puns. Classic Sugar!

The candidates don’t laugh and instead just head to the cafe to bicker.

At this point in proceedings I’m beginning to feel sorry for Flo, who has pretty much been the only candidate I’ve had much time for so far in the series. She’s clearly capable and yet has found herself stuck on a team hampered by the incompetence of others. She must feel absolutely cursed.

In the end tonight, the only surprise is that Virdi and Phil are still here. Having lost on every task, their time must be almost up. Watching the episode tonight though, I can’t help feeling that there’d be no great loss in getting rid of most of them and just making up the shortfall with the polar bear and Mega Bella from tonight’s cereal boxes.

When we’re done tonight, Sam has been fired and leaves by telling Lord Sugar to remember to ‘pop round for a cuppa’. It’s a deserved firing, but that last bit puzzles me. I mean, imagine Sugar standing on your doorstep, inviting himself in and then make snide remarks about your biscuits and getting Karen to pull faces at your kids.

Back at the house with tonight’s ‘winners’, we end with the penny dropping for Phil. Apparently, ‘one slip up and we’re gone’. No shit, Sherlock.

Spring is springing, so why am I looking back?

As we creep out of the darkness that winter has held us in for the last 4 months or so, I’m finding myself casting my mind back a year. I don’t want to. I’d told myself I needed to move on. And yet, here we are, reliving many of the negatives of a year ago and I’m not entirely sure why.

This time last year, I was 4 months into my recovery after heart surgery to fit a pacemaker. I was suffering physically and mentally. However, while physically I was slowly getting better and might even have started running again, mentally I was struggling.

I would continue to struggle for a while longer too.

This time last year though, I could at least feel like the end of being so poorly and frankly useless, was in sight. Every day I’d go for a walk and since starting this in the November of the previous year, I’d gradually been able to go out for longer. So, a year ago I was managing to take myself out for a walk for a good hour, some days more if the weather was brighter and warmer. I’d just wander, but mainly I had two routes. Either I’d walk slowly up to one of our local parks and take in the sights there, or I’d head out a bit further across some farmland and along a public footpath, past horses and cattle and down towards a golf club before realising I was way too tired and ambling home.

As the days got warmer and lighter I started noticing more. Leaves appearing on trees, buds of life on shrubs and flowers and as soppy as it might sound, it gave me a bit of hope.

A year on and it’s funny how things change. I’ve been back at work and back to the usual routine since around March 2023 and I don’t feel like I’ve settled at all. I still feel my pacemaker every day. It’s just there; a slightly heavier presence in my chest than normal. Day by day, it just sits there and whenever there’s even the slightest palpitation or flutter, it just kicks in and works. Sometimes, for no apparent reason it makes the area around it ache and can be more than just a little bit uncomfortable. Recently I’ve had a sharp pain around the place on my chest where the wires come out of the top of the pacemaker. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but I’d rather it wasn’t there as well.

Being back to ‘normal’ has been strange, mainly because deep down I don’t feel like I am really back to normal. Most things are a bit more of a strain than I remember. I’m much more tired, much more easily, which in turn means that I have to really try hard not to be grumpy at everyone and everything! And I am really trying.

In September, when the new academic year started, I made it my goal to just try and be relentlessly positive. I praised classes for the slightest thing, spent a chunk of down time every day adding positive points to our monitoring system so that kids could see I appreciated them, kept smiling and was as energetic as I could be in class and even in meetings, which was a major struggle for me!

I felt that the positivity had slipped around Christmas time. I was counting down the hours of the day, the days of the week and just clinging on for the weekends when I could relax and just get out more and have time to think.

Since January I’ve tried to get back on that positive horse and I think I’ve done ok, but if I’m honest I’m still just clinging on. But then clinging on is not losing my grip, so maybe I should be grateful. I find that I’m looking back a lot. For one, I wish I’d admitted to being poorly about 6 months before I did! Whether much would have changed, I’ll never know. I’m also thinking back to those early spring walks and noticing the colour returning to the world. Oddly, despite feeling so lost at that particular time, I really miss it.

I remember speaking to a friend when I first had my operation last year. He’d previously had heart surgery too and he told me that feeling like myself again was going to be a long process. Turns out he was right!

So, while the buds appear on the shrubs in the park and trees begin to go green once more, I’m looking back when I really need to look forward. Maybe I should take spring as my inspiration. Clearly, some kind of changes are needed.

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