Life – Page 5 – Middle Age Fanclub

Middle Age Gigging: Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds at Leeds First Direct Arena.

As a child of the 70s and 80s, I sometimes get to thinking that there have been times when I’ve had very little to feel lucky about. Growing up in the North of England I watched heavy industry being torn apart, mass unemployment, a decidedly average football team and all things Margaret Thatcher for around about the first 20 years of my life. It all felt a bit rubbish, to be honest!

However, there was always music, even if that invariably meant mining the past to listen to more of bands like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. And then, in the mid to late 80s came The Smiths and The Stone Roses amongst other followed in the early 90s, by Oasis. They were right up my street, I was the right age and thanks to the fact that attended a university in the north west, I was in the right place too. Sadly, all good things come to and end and thus the brothers Gallagher eventually went their separate ways, Liam forming Beady Eye and Noel bringing together his High Flying Birds. They would leave a legacy of incredible music and a lifetime’s worth of memories though.

Oasis and the Gallaghers have been a huge part of my musical life ever since and so tonight, despite the time of year and another hard day at work, I’m tingling with excitement at the prospect of watching Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds at Leeds Arena.

The band/Noel have an album to promote, June’s ‘Council Skies’, and have been on tour worldwide for months. We last saw them in Leeds 7 or 8 years ago, so tonight is highly anticipated and walking through the city on the way to the venue the atmosphere gets better the closer we get. There’s a definite buzz, which although is probably partly due to Christmas, intensifies as we near the venue and by the time we take our seats with around half an hour until stage time you can sense that everyone feels exactly the same. Everyone is up for this!

As a middle age gig goer it’s quite comforting to see the age profile of the crowd. In short, there are plenty here around my age and plenty more who look decidedly older. And I have to do more than a few double takes at the amount of families who’ve turned up. Who know that so many teenagers love a bit of Noel?!

With what must be 5 minutes still to go until stage time the lights dim and we’re greeted with a kind of white noise. The screen behind the stage is fuzzy, but as the noise intensifies the blur clears and five minutes later with a backdrop that now reads ‘Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds’ the band amble onstage to a heroes’ welcome.

Opener ‘Pretty Boy’ is a personal favourite from the new album, so I’m immediately onside. It’s a blinding version too. Next up is ‘Council Skies’ followed by the brilliant ‘Open The Door, See What You Find’ and three tracks in – all from the new album – the Leeds Arena is rocking!

It’s only at this point that Noel finally speaks, finding just enough time to remind us that he’s a Man City fan (I mean, you would, wouldn’t you?!) and say good evening to Leeds before the band launch headlong into another couple of tracks from the new album, ‘Council Skies’ in ‘We’re Gonna Get There In The End’ and ‘Easy Now’, both of which are excellent. Being notoriously bad with even the lyrics of songs that I’ve been listening to for years, I’ve bumbled my way through this section by joining in with most of the choruses and the odd line here and there, but I’m still having a brilliant time. Noel has just always had a happy knack of being able to churn out amazing tunes. Furthermore, this being an arena gig, we’re sitting down meaning that the middle age knees are having a much needed rest!

The High Flying Birds then raid their back catalogue with five older songs, featuring classics ‘In The Heat of The Moment’, ‘If I Had a Gun’ and a raucous ‘AKA…What a Life!’ before most of the band leave the stage while Noel and long time keyboard player Mike Rowe perform a beautiful version of ‘Dead in The Water’.

Having earlier promised us a “trip back to the 90s” Noel and the band now head further into his back catalogue. It’s time for some Oasis tunes!

Starting with the beautiful ‘Going Nowhere’ we’re then treated to ‘The Importance of Being Idle’, the always amazing ‘The Masterplan’ and ‘Half The World Away’ before the set closes with a superbly noisy and spirited version of ‘Little by Little’.

Undoubtedly, at least three quarters of tonight’s crowd were there in the 90s with Oasis and so, despite the creaking knees, the greying hair and the almost permanent aching back – I’m throwing everyone in with my own symptoms here – hearing those songs live again is quite the experience and as much as we love Noel’s newer stuff, the Oasis tunes will always hold a special place in our hearts.

Within minutes of leaving the stage, the band are back for the encore. Noel, who’s gotten more chatty as the gig has gone on, jokes about the next song; we’ll all know the chorus but only him and Bob Dylan know the verses! He might be right too and as he plays a cover of Dylan’s ‘Quinn The Eskimo’ I’m transported back to the late 80s and chanting the chorus on the terraces at Newcastle United in homage to our number 9, the goal machine Micky Quinn!

Next up is ‘Live Forever’ and more special memories. It’s a stunning version of the song and as it’s one I used to sing to my wife in the early days of our relationship, I’ll confess to a little bit of a tear. I hope Noel would understand! And of course, this is a huge part of the point of tonight for a lot of us. We’re rolling back the years, loving every moment of the hour and a half that we get to spend with one of our musical heroes and remembering what were special times when we were a lot younger. And the man in front of us played a big part in changing the landscape of music.

Tonight ends with the stone cold classic that is ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’. Everyone is up out of their seats and those standing at the front of the arena are now just a swaying mass of bodies all hands held aloft and no doubt singing back every word at the top of their voices. It’s the same all around the arena. It’s been a staggeringly good gig. The band are just superb and Noel has been on top form.

By the end, I’m knackered but blissfully happy as only the opportunity to hear a bunch of songs that mean so much can make you. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds have been perfect and I’m pretty sure that every last one of us would agree. Noel, if you ever get to read this, thanks for another brilliant night…and thanks for the memories. May we all keep making them for a good few years yet!

The Alternative Christmas Playlist

It’s that time of year again. The festive period is well and truly upon us – in fact for some people it’s been with them since the start of November. This means a lot of different things, from office parties to buying last minute presents at the local 24 hour garage, but one of the best things has to be the music.

I must confess that despite feeling of sadness I get as commercial organisations bring Christmas further and further forward each year, I’m a sucker for a Christmas tune. So while I might well grumble at the Christmas decor in the supermarket at the end of October, I’ll soon find myself singing along to anything from Slade to Shakin’ Stevens. I’ll probably even give a grudging whistle along to Mariah Carey, if I’m honest. Christmas can have a funny effect on us after all.

As good as I find Christmas music, by the time you’ve heard it on repeat in every shop you visit for even a few days, you’ve possibly heard enough. So, rather than bang on about the kind of Christmas songs that we’ve heard a million times before, I thought I’d give a mention to some that are perhaps a bit more hidden away and some that you might not have heard before. That said, while I’ve put together an alternative list, there are some that still sit firmly in the mainstream. But, although you’ve probably heard them a lot over the years, they’re still well worth a mention. Which leads us nicely into my first choice…

Fairytale of New York by The Pogues featuring Kirsty MacColl. This one’s become even more poignant with news of the death Pogues singer Shane McGowan, but it was always a classic. If you haven’t heard this track, then put simply my friend, where have you been? Whether you consider this part of the mainstream or actually still a bit alternative, it deserves to be on any list of Christmas songs to listen to. What starts off as a melancholic ballad, quickly morphs into a stomping folk tune as the tempo is upped and the band present their own version of a Christmas song. Fairytale of New York reminds us that while Christmas is a time for peace and goodwill to all men, that’s not always possible. Just go on a works Christmas ‘do’ if you need to find out! In recent years the lyrics have come under scrutiny and have been criticised, for their swearing and slurs and a radio friendly, sanitised version is available. But for me, while some winced at the insulting nature of some of the lines – there’s even a homophobic slur at one point – the original, swaggering, sweary version of the song will always be the one I play and sing. Nick Cave called it “the greatest Christmas song ever written” and do you know what? He’s right!

I Was Born on Christmas Day by St. Etienne and Tim Burgess. A proper Christmas banger, this one! St. Etienne were one of my favourite bands in the 90s and were purveyors of what I’d call perfect pop. Well crafted, melodic pop songs were their thing and Sarah Cracknell’s voice was just wonderful. They’re joined by Tim Burgess of The Charlatans on this one and it’s a real festive winner. Upbeat, catchy and featuring some lovely Christmas bells, this is definitely one to brighten up your Yuletide. And for added fun, check out the band performing it on Top of The Pops with Tim looking ever so slightly tipsy!

As The Snowflakes Fall by Smith and Burrows. This is a from a Christmas themed album called Funny Looking Angels that contains Christmas songs and covers with a hint of Christmas about them. It’s been my go to record at this time of year for a good while now and I could have chosen any track from it. However, I went for something a bit different in ‘As The Snowflakes Fall’. It’s a bit of a waltz really, with a shuffling rhythm and some beautiful harmonies and the song has more than a hint of Elliot Smith about it. So, if you like melodic, folksy type stuff, then this will appeal. To be honest though, I’d thoroughly recommend the entire album…it might just change your life.

Christmas Was Better in The 80s by Futureheads. Starting off with the feel of a traditional Christmas hymn, almost, this one swiftly morphs into just what you might expect from the Futureheads; a post punk, cleverly written romp of a tune. A punk love song to their beloved childhood this one promotes a time when everything seemed better. Life was easier when you could go to bed early and wake up to a pile of presents. With much to sing along to, this is a Christmas track that’s very much worth a listen.

Corpus Christi Carol by Jeff Buckley. A bit of a vocal masterpiece, this one. As you’d expect with the wonderful Jeff Buckley this is truly beautiful. Corpus Christi Carol though is an actual carol from the middle ages. So, if you’re looking for something a bit more traditional on your playlist, then this should appeal. Buckley’s version is stripped right back; just his incredible voice – and he gives a truly stunning performance here – and a guitar, which makes this really quite haunting. So, while this isn’t going to make you feel the same kind of festive spirit as say Slade or Roy Wood and Wizard, it will definitely warm your heart.

Two Thousand Miles by The Pretenders. Another classic and not altogether an alternative pick, but definitely not your everyday Christmas fodder either. This one is about being separated from your loved one at Christmas, hence the title. So, while it’s a Christmas song, it’s certainly not traditional in its content. I suppose it’s highlighting that Christmas is a time for being together, so being apart from the one you love makes it all the more difficult. A beautiful tune though. A great showcase for Chrissie Hynde’s vocals as well.

Just Like Christmas by Low. Another one that’s tinged with sadness, while at the same time being a track that you’ll find yourself singing along with quite cheerily, especially the chorus. With it’s shuffling rhythm and Christmas bells it’s a definite toe tapper and there’s even a little instrumental break in the middle that always reminds me of The Love Cats by The Cure. Although the lyrics get a little bit morose – apparently it wasn’t like Christmas at all – this is definitely a tune to check out with its references to a snowy winter. And it always reminds me of the band First Aid Kit, which is all the more reason to check it out.

Christmas Time (Don’t Let The Bells End) by The Darkness. After a slightly down beat couple of tracks we definitely need a mood change. So what better than a bit of Christmas tinged hair metal? This tune is just an absolute romp, complete with trademark falsetto vocals, riotous guitars and a healthy smattering of humour. With its brilliantly singalong chorus, you’re on to a winner with this and maybe just a little bit of a Christmas drink!

Winter Song by Lindisfarne. I’ve sort of shoehorned this one in as it’s not strictly speaking a Christmas song. However, Lindisfarne being from Newcastle has helped its inclusion, along with the fact that it’s actually really good. This one draws on the band’s memories of winters in the North East of England which can often feel long, dark and bloody cold. There’s a vulnerability to Alan Hull’s voice here that is somewhat perfect for the slight hint of bitterness of the song. Anyway, it’s just brilliant, so give it a listen!

Last, but not least…Wonderful Christmastime by The Shins. This is just a wonderful cover of the Paul McCartney classic by American indie legends The Shins. You’ll know the original, but now say hello to this brilliant cover. There’s almost a Phil Spector style ‘wall of sound’ quality to this one at times, yet at others it’s really quite stripped back. As a fan of the original, I was surprised how much I enjoyed this cover when I first heard it. I think you’ll enjoy it too!

So there you have it. A Yuletide Top 10 of alternative Christmas classics. I hope you’ll search them out as they’ll come in handy as an antidote when you’ve had just a bit too much of the usual stuff!

The Pacemaker Diaries – One year on…

So it turns out that last week had a number of big days. Huge, in fact because last week marked a year since I had my pacemaker fitted.

I remember it well. Of course I do. At the beginning of that week I had realised that I was seriously ill. Even then, I didn’t know what the problem was – but it had been going on for months – and when I was admitted to hospital I still just thought they’d keep me in overnight and send me home with some tablets that would miraculously make everything alright again. My heart wouldn’t keep me awake at night. There would be no more listening for it and wondering if it had stopped.

The morning came and a lovely cardiologist disappointed me with his lack of tablets, then stunned me with his talk of a pacemaker. Despite protesting – “those things are for pensioners, man” – I was very quickly put in my place. “Put it this way, your heart stopped for over 4 seconds last night.” The other option was not to do it, but to lose my driving licence and then start worrying about my job. After all, it’s not normal or safe to be blacking out left, right and centre and I was told that this was likely.

“I think we’ll fit that pacemaker then!”

I laughed about it but I was crying inside. I was far too young for this. And I didn’t have a clue what it actually meant. At least I felt safe in the hospital, but it was a lot to take in. Still is.

The next day, just after 11am, I was wheeled down to theatre, talked through what was going to happen and then they just got on with it. The whole place was calm, jovial even. I was terrified. But do you know what, the more people singing along to the radio while performing your heart surgery, the more comforting it gets!

Later, back on the ward, there was the kind of drama that you never expect to be involved in, as my pacemaker failed and my heart monitor set off every alarm within a five mile radius. At least it felt that way. My heart decided it was time for yet another episode and the palpitations started with a vengeance. Doctors and nurses crowded around my bed, assuring me that help was on the way while I watched a monitor until my heartbeat hit 209bpm. At that point someone took the sensible decision of moving the monitor out of my eyeline.

It turned out fine. Someone from the cardiology department fixed it all online and in as much of a matter of fact way as was humanly possible. While I felt like I was quietly awaiting the grim reaper or a lovely warm light or whatever death looks like (various deceased comedy legends welcoming me ‘home’ and saying they’re my biggest fans?), him and his machine had “a chat with” my pacemaker. It worked.

The next day I was released back into the wild, not really knowing what awaited me. In truth, I didn’t really know if I could make it to the car without stopping for a rest. I imagined though that it might mean a couple of weeks off work. It was four months later that I finally went back.

It’s been a weird year. In some ways I feel worse than ever. It definitely did something to me, mentally and I do find it difficult to motivate myself. On the other hand though, I’m running regularly and actually feel fitter than ever. There have been three 10k races in the last 6 months or so and I feel like I’ve proved a bit of a point to myself. I’m still not quite convinced though.

I can feel my pacemaker every day. When I put on deoderant or have a wash, it’s there. Sometimes, I catch it a bit and it hurts. Occasionally, when I’m carrying a box or something of any decent size, it might rebound on to my chest and boy does it sting! The wires sit there, just above my scar and the pacemaker and they’re right there, just underneath the surface of my chest. Place a finger there and it’s almost like you could pluck them out with a little bit of effort. Not that I’m encouraging anyone to try! I think this is a consequence of me not being very well built; another reason to curse my body! And if you look closely, through my lustrous chest hair, you can actually see the outline shape of the pacemaker itself. How attractive!

There have been no more scares though. No more lying awake at night listening to my heart and wondering what it’s doing. So, the pacemaker is actually a comfort. My heart works which is rather nice.

For a long, long time I was fatigued. I felt like I’d never get better or feel like myself again. My body seemed to take an age to come to terms with what had happened. Coming off beta-blockers helped, but didn’t solve it. From my third day back at home I was going for a daily walk. At first, it was just 10 minutes, but being as bloody-minded as I am I worked that upwards as quickly as I could. But I’d be capable of very little else once I was done and days would simply drift past. Months later, when I felt capable to run a short distance, it would take the rest of the day to recover. In short, for months I just felt terrible. My body ached and I generally felt exhausted. I’d be out of breath easily and immensely frustrated by this.

It’s really not an exaggeration to say that this last year has been a real battle. I’ve felt incredibly low at times – and still have periods like that to this day – and I’ve had to work really hard to keep myself going. I’ve suffered with terrible bouts of sadness, that I didn’t imagine would be possible for me; not just feeling sorry for myself, but genuinely feeling sad, tearful and lonely about life and how things were turning out. The pacemaker made me angry and in truth, I still can’t get my head around the fact that I have to have it.

I regularly remind myself of how lucky I am though. It’d be too easy to just sort of give up and feel sorry for myself. I was almost discharged from hospital before I’d even got to a ward. Only a last minute check showed any kind of problem and only when a senior cardiologist had looked at it all properly was it decided that I had to have a pacemaker. I was actually minutes from going home, so who knows what could have happened? Clearly, I’m lucky though. I’m still here, my quality of life is good and although there are still one or two flutters with my heart now and again, I’m fairly confident that my pacemaker has it all covered!

What I’ve learnt over the course of the last 12 months is that it’s going to take me a while to recover fully and to feel like I’m back to my normal self again. I was ill for months before I got treated – my own fault because I hid what was wrong. But I think that has taken its toll. As I said earlier, I still struggle mentally but I don’t have as many low periods as before. Normal life with work and everything else has helped. But I’ve learnt that I really do have the strength to come back from adversity. Maybe, in another year’s time I’ll have consigned pacemaker diaries to the back of my mind. Maybe.

Hopefully, the future is a bit happier and healthier! Maybe I’ll get to change my tune and write about that instead!

Middle Aged Gigging – ‘Embrace’ at Leeds O2 Academy…on a school night!

I’m quite sure that nothing can make you feel older or more middle aged than a night out. Not a party with friends or meeting people you know for whatever it might be; no, a night out. In public, with people that you have little or no knowledge of beforehand. Going to a gig is a prime example of this. Thursday night at Embrace was no different for a couple of reasons!

As is now usual, we get to the Leeds Academy early. Having had heart surgery last year, the barrier offers protection for this paranoid old fella, so it’s become our home from home at gigs. However, beyond the comfort, you can never resist a look round and tonight when I do, I’m greeted by a very definite feeling that the usually familiar middle aged audience at an Embrace gig has been infiltrated by…youth! Not even a smattering. Tribes of the buggers, pockets of them everywhere you turn. As I said, there’s nothing that can match their power in making you feel old. And it’s not long before it gets worse.

Within minutes support band The Slates take to the stage. Immediately I’m thinking, ‘I could be all of your dads’. They’re sooo young! And yet, from the first chords of the opener tonight, I’m nothing but impressed. The energy is brilliant and you can’t help but root for these lads. The sight of them does remind me that I have to teach my Year 10s first thing in the morning though. Regardless, their set just makes me smile. Stand out tracks would be ‘What Have You Done?’ and ‘Hello, don’t you know’?, but in truth it’s all impressive from The Slates who look and sound like a band with a bright future ahead of them, even if they do make me feel ancient.

There’s a hint of early Arctic Monkeys in there and you can hear the Britpop, but there’s also some ska at times, which given their age and the era of music that they must have grown up with, brings to mind the influence of The Ordinary Boys. Whatever their influences, it doesn’t really matter. The Slates are excellent tonight and they throw themselves into this gig, clearly enjoying their moment. Subsequently, it’s infectious and I’m sure that they’ll leave with more than a few more fans tonight. I’ll definitely be searching out their music.

After a quick shuffle around of equipment on stage it’s time for another support act; Tom Speight. The energy is certainly no less, but it’s different. Tom Speight is, as the name suggests, a solo artist, although he is backed by another singer, a girl who I think he called Hedara who had a great voice (apologies though if I’ve got the name wrong). His music is kind of folky and there’s more than a nod to the pop of the likes of Turin Brakes and maybe even Starsailor.

Speight’s set is energetic and he makes an immediate impact on the crowd. He does a remarkable job of ‘filling’ the room with his sound, given that this is just two voices and a guitar. Both voices though, are strong and emotive and they work really well together. It’s not long before we’re tapping and nodding along and later, with a little bit of persuasion we’re singing along too. Songs like ‘Wonderful Wonder’ and ‘Everything’s Waiting For You’ go down really well and by the time the set ends, we’ve been teed up nicely for the return of Embrace.

Tonight Embrace are performing their album ‘The Good Will Out’ in full as part of its 25th Anniversary celebrations. Suddenly, my age isn’t an issue! I fell in love with these songs and this band a long, long time ago so it’s safe to say that I’m excited to be right at the front for the gig. It’s also a year to the day since I had heart surgery, so it’s a lovely way to celebrate getting through what’s been a tough year.

There’s a hero’s welcome for the band when they take the stage and it’s not long before they’ve launched into opener ‘All You Good Good People’. The pace is set and it’s just going to be our job to keep up now. But it won’t be a problem. I can’t hold back a huge smile at the first line, ‘I feel like I’m meant something’ and as if I needed a reminder on this day of all days, it’s good to be alive. It feels like the whole room is taking off with everyone singing every lyric and as is always the case with Embrace, it’s a joy to be here.

By the time we’ve reached one of my all time favourite songs, ‘One Big Family’, the atmosphere is electric. It’s always great to see a band on home turf as the atmosphere is generally special. Tonight is no exception. By the end of the track I’m well and truly out of breath and realise that I’d been more or less screaming the lyrics back at the band, so if you were at the front and near a skinny bloke in a black t-shirt with a white beard, I can only apologise. Mind you, I’ll only have to do it again, because I was probably even screechier during ‘Retread’.

Discussing the gig on our way back to the car afterwards we talked about the emotion of seeing Embrace and the fact that it feels like a happening rather than simply entertainment. It’s what I imagine being in church feels like when there’s a gospel choir, simply because I feel like I’m almost lifted up and carried along by the band and the songs. There’s no doubt that the chief protagonist in all of this is singer Danny, who never fails to get the crowd going and he’s on good form tonight and clearly enjoying himself, even encouraging us – even the old folk – to dance during some of the songs. I tried Danny, I tried…

Obviously, given my attachment to the songs, I’d say that the whole album is done wonderfully tonight. But for me, the middle section of tracks ‘I Want The World’, ‘You’ve Got To Say Yes’ ‘Retread’ and ‘Last Gas’ is absolutely blistering.

As we end the set with the ‘la la la la’ singalong that is ‘The Good Will Out’ it’s clear that everyone’s had a wonderful night. As ever, I’m left wondering just how long an Embrace crowd would willingly do the ‘la la las’ for if we were just left to it. Hours, I’d wager. Brilliantly though (and sadly, if you love a ‘la la la’), with a ‘greatest hits’ style encore to come, it’s not quite done.

There are five songs on the encore tonight. ‘We Are It’, ‘Refugees’, ‘Dry Kids’ ‘Gravity’ and ‘Ashes’ – all are amazing. Dry Kids makes a welcome return and Gravity – the first dance at our wedding – has me tearing up as usual (middle age can be a funny old thing, kids). Before them though is Refugees which is just incredible and Richard’s vocals are simply superb. I’m a little bit spellbound by Mike’s drumming on this track too and I’m absolutely knackered by the end of it, which is unfortunate because as we all know, we’re ending with live favourite Ashes.

When it comes, I think we all summon up a last little bit of energy and there are people pogoing everywhere you look. As ever, ‘Ashes’ feels like an event in itself and I think I might have run out of superlatives at this point. Suffice to say, that it’s just another moment where I’m thankful to be here because as tired as I feel, it’s nothing short of a pleasure to be able to completely lose myself in what is an absolute tune.

It’s been a brilliant night, again. Twenty five years of ‘The Good Will Out’ and a little bit more than that of watching Embrace live. We’re off to bed late on a school night, but I’m sure my Year 10s will understand!

Poetry Blog: Halloween

So, I’ve given myself a simple brief for this one. I’d wanted to sit down and give this poem some thought, but for a number of reasons I’ve found myself more than a bit pushed for time. Thus, I decided to write a Halloween poem within a time limit. So, I gave myself an hour to have it written.

I cheated a little bit because I’d started thinking about it a couple of days ago and this morning I wrote a few things down; just ideas, rather than fully formed lines.

Anyway, below is the finished and imaginatively titled poem.

Halloween

The smell of premature bonfires and fireworks drifts across town,
but nothing can distract you from the sounds,
those early shrieks and delighted screams
that despite daylight, still cling on stubbornly to 
sound the alarm of this special night.

You hear them before you see them,
their delight announcing their arrival,
those miniature ghosts, zombies and monsters,
with every so often a rogue Disney Princess,
knocking at a door to tempt someone to part with treats
based upon their cuteness alone.

As night falls, more sinister sights and sounds sidle along,
changing the atmosphere and making even the most cynical eye
dart everywhere...just in case.
The ghosts, monsters and zombies more convincing now,
casting doubt in the minds of anyone approaching from a distance.

Houses, now haunted, promise a bounty of sugar
for those who are brave enough to venture up the path,
creeping past the plastic graves, skeletons and cackling witches,
but the rewards are plenty when you reach the pumpkins
and before too long pockets and bags are under strain
as greedy teens take on just one last door.

Later, as quickly as they filled up,
the streets are deserted and the dead of night swallows up
that short lived sense of fun and adventure.
Tucked away indoors, stomachs are full and parents cling to the hope
that weary legs will soon win out over the sugar rush.

I hope this one captures that sense of Halloween, especially given the time limits! I tried to add as many things as I could remember from trick or treating now that my children are too hold to bother with it anymore. I’m a bit out of practice though!

As ever, feel free to leave a comment! Happy Halloween!

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life…5 Things that made me smile in September.

If I’m brutally honest, I didn’t feel much like smiling in September. As if summer wasn’t bad enough with mental and physical health issues we also had months of pretty tragic weather. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t fully expect weeks of bright sunshine and searing heat, but constant rain and an average temperature of about 14 degrees isn’t exactly food for the soul! And of course, September is the month that us teachers get to start a new academic year all over again!

However, there were still just about enough reasons to be cheerful, so here they are.

I got my running buddy back! When he was much younger, my son used to come out running with me on a regular basis. He showed a real talent for running and although he might have the odd grumble, he was able to cover good distances without too much trouble. And then he became a teenager! Despite having real potential as a runner, he simply stopped doing it and I was left running on my own, an kind of X-Box widower, if you like. Fast forward about 3 years and as part of his Silver Duke of Edinburgh he’s chosen to do running as a sporting option. The funny part of it is that he doesn’t want to come out on any evening runs because he might see people he knows! Sadly for him, that means he’s got to be up at 6.30am every Saturday now, but he’s done it without too much grumbling. It’s lovely to have him back though.
Claude the Koala. I read a brilliant story about a koala bear in the news at the start of last month. It really made me laugh! Apparently an Australian garden centre owner was left completely without answers about who or what was eating his seedlings. It could have been goats, it could have been possums, but he didn’t actually know. And then one morning he discovered the culprit, lying somewhat ‘food drunk’ in amongst the eucalyptus plants. A koala, eating the very plants that were being grown to help out his own endangered species in the region! Even when they moved him on, he came back night after night. So now, they’re having to build koala proof fencing to keep him out. There can’t be anyone who doesn’t manage a smile at Claude looking incredibly guilty below!

3. Being back among friends at work. I’ve written elsewhere about summer being a tough time for me mentally. I’ve never felt so sad. And despite my dread of going back to work after the summer break, it’s been wonderful to be back amongst my friends. Hard work, but they make it lovely. So many people have enquired as to my health and been genuinely kind, but being back among our English Department team has been the best part of it. Plenty of laughs, loads of cynicism and just a lot of fun. Thanks ladies! 4. The World Stone Skimming Championships. How have I never heard about this before now? Apparently the World Championships are held each year on Easdale island in the Hebrides. For the uninitiated, stone skimming is exactly what it sounds like. You get a preferably flat stone and throw it in a particular way so that it skims across the surface of the water. It’s always been a cracking seaside tradition in the UK. So, reading about the fact that there’s a world championships for such a dad skill made me smile! It also made me remember that just this summer, on several beaches in Wales, I introduced my son to stone skimming, meaning that for a few days, every time we went anywhere near water the both of us would be scanning the shore for the perfect skimming stone. He got the hang of it quite quickly, but it made me smile to remember that I was still the best! Dads, eh? 5. Year 7. Another year and another group of young people make the transition to high school. Bright eyed, smartly dressed and kind of ready to learn. They’re sat up straight in your lesson, not complaining about English, being tired, the weather, the temperature of the room, the lights in the room or literally anything else that might just put them off doing any work. For a while, they’re an absolute joy to work with. Yes, some can be a bit needy, but that’s ok. This is a big old change they’re making. I have two groups of Year 7s in English this year, plus a group for History and one for PHSCE and I’m genuinely enjoying teaching them. Perhaps it’s the heightened positive approach I’m deliberately taking this year, but those year 7s are a little pool of light in an ocean of darkness at the minute!

So there you go – even when it’s been a tough month and you’re not feeling particularly enthusiastic and bright, there are always a few things that might just make us smile!

Poetry Blog: A Poem for National Poetry Day

I’ve taken a different direction for this latest poetry blog. Where usually I’d have already written a poem and just dug it out from a notebook, today I’ve written a short poem especially for National Poetry Day. I gave myself a deadline before writing some of it down. Any changes or additions were then made when I typed this whole thing up. I hope you like it.

I only gave myself a short time to think and after trying to write something about Autumn, I abandoned it in favour of writing something about why I write poetry. So, here you go.

The words I'd never say

Usually, it's the words I'd never say,
too self conscious to just let them fly
and only too aware of the stutter, the nerves 
and the glowing cheeks that would greet
the rush of blood telling me that it was safe to speak.

Sometimes, I'm lost in thought,
my own little world and things I'd rather not share out loud.
Futile really. Probably not even anything that
anybody else would need to know,
but it has to come out somewhere, somehow.

Scrawled inky lines crawling across the page,
filled with scribbles, arrows and asterisk
allow the expression that otherwise would stay silent
it could be the birds in the park or fears about health,
or just about a day out that might have left its mark,
this shy boy can still have his say.

I was never a one for writing poetry. There had been the odd one or two over the years, but they were never kept. And then lockdown happened and the words just began to flow. Now there are multiple notebooks with poems in various stages around out house. Hopefully, the poem fills you in a little bit as to why that is.

The Pacemaker Diaries – summer’s been a bummer.

A bit of a cathartic post, this one. I’m aware that I’ve written a lot about my heart surgery last year and I’m aware of the fact that it might just be getting boring. It’s getting that way for me too. But despite my many quiet vows to not let the pacemaker define me, it’s kind of a tough one that! So this post is sort of cathartic because it allows me to vent my frustrations as well as publicly celebrate my successes, however minor they might have been.

So, my recovery continues. I’m still very aware of my pacemaker; you can literally see it when I take my top off (steady ladies), there’s a scar that looks red raw when I’ve done any exercise and more than anything else, I can just feel it sitting there in my chest. It doesn’t hurt or anything like that, but it does get sore after exercise or if I’ve had to take on any lifting.

Thankfully though, I’m now running regularly. I manage to get out twice a week and have been pretty much exclusively running 10ks recently in preparation for an upcoming race. That race is the Morley 10k, which I ran in October of last year before collapsing a few weeks later and then finding myself in hospital a few weeks after that. So all the omens are good! At the time of running it, I felt good and strong and despite the fairly undulating course and the fact that I was actually very poorly, managed a time of 54 minutes! I don’t think I’ll get anywhere near that this time around!

That said, for a recent hilly 10k that I ran around town, I clocked a time of under 57 minutes, so I’m not actually too far short of pushing for a similar sort of time as last year. Maybe, with a decent tail wind for the last couple of miles, I can achieve something worth shouting about. It would certainly help me get past the whole ‘woe is me and my pacemaker ‘ thing!

My body continues to frustrate me though. As far as I’m concerned, I’m out of shape and carrying a bit of a belly, although my wife tells me I’m being ridiculous. When I’m feeling more rational I can put the aches, the pains and the belly down to middle age, but I still feel unhappy with it and I’m fairly sure that had I not had the health issue that I’ve had, I would be in a lot better shape physically. Four months off work with nowhere near enough exercise and far too much snacking has clearly taken its toll and I’m struggling to get back into shape.

I found summer really tough and for long periods felt as low as I can remember ever feeling. As is my habit, I tried to hide it from everyone and seemed to be getting away with just being labelled occasionally grumpy, but if I’m honest, I just couldn’t cope with it. Running kept me sane and when I was out on those early mornings I hardly had a care in the world. But at home, on holiday, visiting family, I just felt awful. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault. I felt impatient with those around me and angry at what’s gone on since last year with my health. In terms of recovery, being so frustrated and angry really doesn’t make things easy and I’ve genuinely felt like I couldn’t move on.

The peak of it came when I just felt I had to talk to someone. Not like me at all, but I knew I had to try. I tried repeatedly, but something always got in the way and then one afternoon while she was at work and I was at home, my wife called me about something and I just confessed to how incredibly sad I felt. She’s been brilliant!

Talking a lot has certainly lightened the load, but I’m still considering counselling or just joining some kind of support group. I did this when I first got my pacemaker as I really struggled with what felt like the injustice and the worry of it all and it did me the world of good to hear from other people in the same situation and just to share a few things.

Part of the reason for the summer being such a tough time was that I stepped down from coaching my junior football team. The club wanted me to get rid of 4 players in order to make space for others that they were dropping down to us from our A team and I just wasn’t going to do it. I hoped they’d see reason, but when they didn’t I walked away on principle. I’d always tried to be a totally inclusive coach and when the club decided to release players based on ability, that was enough for me. They tried to dress it up as something else, citing players commitment as a reason, but it simply wasn’t anything to do with it.

I’d coached the team for 7 years and loved it. It had always helped me with my physical fitness and mental health too and so to lose it hit me hard. I managed to get a couple of the players that were dropped fixed up with a new club, but the fact that I could no longer coach kids I’d coached for years and years – including my own son – knocked me for six and just deepened the sadness I was already feeling.

The issue dragged on a bit because parents were actually on my side and so there’s been a lot of complaints flying around. However, the club have actually emailed one of the parents of a lad who was dropped and told some rather creative lies about me while being incredibly loose with the truth about what actually happened. I could have got very angry, but I’ve just decided to leave it. If it makes people feel better about themselves to tell blatant lies, I haven’t really got the time for that in my life. Not at the moment. Talk about kicking a man when he’s down!

I still go to watch the team, as my lad still plays and most of the squad are still ‘my’ players, but I just won’t have anything to do with the people at the club now. One or two in particular should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves, but I guess that some people are just never in the wrong! Karma can be a bitch though, so we’ll wait and see!

For now, I’m just trying to be as positive about life and recovery as I can. I’ve thrown myself into work and whether I’m happy or not, I’m trying to be as positive as is possible. So, I’ve dug out my Disney teacher voice for the new year 7s so my natural grumpiness doesn’t scare them and I’m putting positive comments on our ClassCharts whenever I think someone’s done something good. I’m trying to make sure that I explicitly praise as many students as possible whenever they’ve gone beyond the ordinary and I’ve not sent one email about how pointless a meeting is yet! I’ve even been early for a few of them as well. Inner me’s not particularly fooled, but the positivity is genuinely helping. It probably sounds stupid, but while I’m being positive, I’m not being negative and not feeling sorry for myself. Does that make sense?

So life, as ever, is full of ups and downs. And while there are a few too many downs for my liking at the moment, I’m hoping to work my way out of the way I feel before the end of the year. In November I’ll have had a pacemaker for a whole year and if I’m honest, it is a comfort. As far as I can tell, the old issues with my heart are fixed. Now, however difficult I find it at times, it’s just time to get on with life again in the best way that I can.

Poetry Blog: Roots

This one is an autobiographical poem. It’s about a lot of things in my life, but mainly things that have happened, or feelings that I’ve felt since I left home to go to university. It was a long time ago, but due to the upheaval it’s something that I probably still think about every day.

I’m from a city in the North East of England called Newcastle Upon Tyne. If you’re from the U.K no doubt you’ll know of it. If you’re anywhere else, you may still have heard of it and if not, give it a Google; have a look at the bridges and stuff, because it’s a wonderful place. For my money, it’s the greatest city on the planet, but then we’d all make that claim, wouldn’t we? Trust me, I’m right though because it’s a city that seems to make an indelible impact on its people and it certainly did on me.

I lived in Newcastle until I was 19 and can vividly remember, aged 18, telling my Year 13 form tutor that I’d never leave. I genuinely couldn’t envisage a time when I’d leave the place. There just wasn’t going to be a reason to take such drastic action. And then there was, so I left. After 3 years away at university I spent another 5 or 6 months back at home, trying to find a job that never came my way. This was ’90s Newcastle and it felt like I’d never get a break in a city that seemed like it was being cut adrift by a government that had all but destroyed all of our industry. So, I headed south to the Midlands to move in with the girl that later became my wife. We’re still together and nearly 30 years later I still live away from ‘home’, but closer now at least, in Yorkshire.

Roots

Geordie jeans and a head full of dreams
you left your home town, not even suspecting
that you'd never return.
The bridges, the monument, the shops and 
even the river would lose their warm familiarity
and before too long become almost alien,
making you feel strange, yet not a stranger,
displaced, without roots 
and never quite at home, wherever you went.
Every turn presented another stage of 
cultural change and gentrification
while you stood still, a statue without a plinth,
slowly shrinking into yourself 
until you didn't really recognise who or what 
you'd become, functioning behind a mask.
No direction and the wrong turn at every junction,
when the road forked you found the dead end,
falling into a self made trap, again and again
with only glimpses of light to keep you from the dark,
so that even the way ahead was stumbled upon
and even then only chance would keep you from being 
back to square one.
The beacon at your side the only part
of those last ten years,
to stave off the loneliness and put you
back together when,
you'd fallen off the wall again and again,
so that now, still Geordie jeans and a head full of dreams,
there's a reason to face each new day
and a heart to call a home.

The poem is about moving away and then watching the city change. That might have been changing in that I lost my sense of belonging there but also lost the ‘geography’ of the place, if you like so that however often I went back there would be more and more times when I just couldn’t remember my way around or couldn’t place things anymore. Add in the fact that my parents moved from my childhood home to a new village and it all led to me feeling a little alien in and around Newcastle.

The city also grew and was given a bit of a facelift in certain areas, making it far less recognisable and far more difficult to feel at ‘home’ in. Gradually, while I didn’t fall out of love with the city, I began to feel like I just didn’t really know it anymore which was heartbreaking given how attached to the place I had been growing up.

The Geordie jeans bit is about clothing, but heritage as well. There’s jeans and genes in there. The genes are obvious, I suppose. ‘Geordie Jeans’ however was, shall we say, a clothes shop when I was growing up that was a bit ‘budget’, but it was all that my parents could afford. So, I’d be kitted out for home and school in their stuff and very self conscious about it as a teenager.

The latter end of the poem is about all of those feelings coming together to have an adverse effect on my mental health. When we first moved away I knew we wouldn’t stay there, it was just after leaving university too, so there was career uncertainty too. If I’m honest, that’s stayed with me right up until the present day, as much as I love my job and the place where I live.

There’s a little bit of optimism towards the end of the poem. I still retain those dreams, however far away they might seem and as I said earlier, I still have my wife by my side looking after me and giving me strength wherever I go and in whatever I do.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the poem. It’s opened up a few ideas along similar lines in my head, so I might write more about those times if I can find the time.

No planner, a chimp, naps and IT problems: It’s Back to School ’23/24

September is not my favourite month, it’s safe to say. It’s the end of one generally lovely part of my life and the beginning of something very different. Time for a lot of us to turn what has become a rather pleasant routine on its head. Time again for early starts and rainy commutes. Time for what seems like constant noise where there had been solitude for much of the days that had spread out in front of us. Yep, these last couple of weeks have meant that it’s been time to go back to school.

For once, I didn’t get the full treatment in terms of ‘The Fear’. Of course, I didn’t want to go back and thoughts of chaos in the classroom seemed to permeate almost everything I was trying to concentrate on. My mood worsened and I was ranting and grumbling even more than usual. As usual, I tried to turn the return to work into a positive by doing stuff like taking the occasional trip to the shops to search out some new shirts, as even if I may not actually look good, I think it’s important to at least try and kid myself that I do. However, for once, I didn’t suffer with back to school nightmares where I’m standing in front of a class who simply aren’t listening and are talking over me, whatever I say or threaten them with. So that was a blessed relief and a nice change.

However, when I realised on the afternoon of the last day of the summer holidays that I still hadn’t ordered a planner, it became clear that I just wasn’t really that organised or even slightly ready for what was to come. Still though, despite their attempts to take over the world, Amazon proved its worth and with a few clicks I had exactly the same planner as last year on order. It wouldn’t arrive until the Tuesday, but I’d muddle on through…

If you’re a teacher reading this I’m sure you’ll share my absolute hatred and horror at the first INSET day. If you’re SLT reading this, then that last sentence was for comedic effect; we’re all delighted to be there and hanging on your every word. But maybe, on that particular high note, you should stop reading now.

Few things in teaching can feel as futile as the first INSET day. A friend tells me that he’s rarely listening that day and that he often finds himself hating three quarters of the people in every room that he enters. Apart from his own department, who are all wonderful. I’ll keep him anonymous, because that’s quite a bold statement, but just so that we’re clear, he’s definitely not me, but a friend.

Our set up dictates that we all head over to the lead school in our academies trust for the morning and so, on the first Monday back, I was in a car share chatting to a pal, while listening to The Smiths and wondering why the people in the back had definitely just mentioned that someone they knew might just be a swinger. It’s the kind of 20 minute journey that feels like it takes 4 hours and almost every road is about 6ft wide and undulating. And this year someone was talking about swingers.

On arrival at our INSET day, it’s a bit like being a pilot as numerous ‘important’ people in high viz jackets attempt to steer you into exactly the right parking space, as if parking where you want would represent a level 9 security breach, whatever that is.

Then, it’s breakfast with staff from every other school in the trust – I estimate that we have 804 schools by the state of the canteen as we walk in – and my compliments to the chef have to go to the individual who served up my orange juice and pain au chocolate as it made me feel like I’d just arrived at a luxury spa in rural France…sort of.

I’ll spare you anymore great detail of the morning, but suffice to say it was a delight to share reading strategies that I introduced to the staff of my own school around 4 years ago as well as those from partner schools and see them greeted with the kind of enthusiasm that indicated that no one had been listening four years ago. I’ll look forward to see someone else introducing them as their own some time soon and resolve to try very, very hard not to scream or shout obscenities.

There was also mention of Steve Peters, the psychiatrist made famous for his work with many of the UK’s top athletes. It reminded me that it’s entirely possible that I only have the chimp part of my brain that functions. And if you haven’t read the book, that won’t mean anything to you. Basically , Dr Steve says that it’s the chimp part of your brain that makes you do stupid stuff. Don’t worry though; it’s not a real chimp.

Looking round at lunch I noticed that one of our new starters didn’t get the casual dress memo; a lone young man in shirt and tie while everyone else in in jeans, t-shirts and the like, which is always brilliant and I also spotted the worst deputy head I’ve ever had the displeasure of working with, as he now seems to be employed by our trust. A number of years back I had to be restrained by a friend to prevent me having ‘a chat’ with said deputy after he simply forgot to turn up for an observation I’d spent untold hours preparing for. So, it was lovely to see him again.

At the end of that first day, I left work late feeling exactly the same way as I do every year – unprepared for the rest of the week and wishing that someone would grasp the importance of giving teachers time on these kinds of days rather than just workshops and speeches.

The rest of the week actually wasn’t that bad though, although I’m teaching three different subjects this year and would relish the chance to warmly thank our government for their assistance with this development. Without your ineptitude and inability to fund the creation of attractive working environments that might attract and keep new staff year in year out, I wouldn’t get to challenge myself with bottom set Year 9 PHSCE, so thanks for that. It wouldn’t be the same just being an experienced English teacher tasked with just teaching English.

One irritation about the rest of the week was that it was conducted through a heatwave, which if you’re a teacher you’ll know is exactly the same thing that happens every year, without fail. Five and a half weeks of rain followed by weather that would be more at home in the outback. My classroom is air-conditioned, so it’s quite nice, but it’s never fun when every class that comes in gives you a weather report, then points out that my room is lovely and cool before giving it ten minutes and informing me that they’re too cold.

It felt like a long week and I must admit it was a struggle in terms of tiredness – I nearly wrote fatigue there, but it was 5 days, for goodness sakes – and as I adapted to my routine for the 24th year, there were a few late finishes.

Happily, I managed to fit in two impromptu naps – don’t worry they were at home, not at work – so perhaps it’s right what they say about every cloud as it was a joy to re-discover my ability to fall asleep while reading. It may not be a skill to add to a CV any time soon, but it’s definitely something that I excel at and am really quite passionate about.

More joy came with the number of students who pointed out that I now had a beard. It was great to be reminded of this fact, especially as I’ve had said beard for around 9 months now and would have paraded it in front of almost all of them for several of those months last year. So, if anyone wonders of it’s a problem for teachers to get students to retain information on any number of complex subjects from Shakespeare to trigonometry, that might just help with the answer.

There have been the usual snags over the last couple of weeks. Every teacher surely knows that every photocopier in the building will break within 24 hours. And we’ll all still try to fix them or use them, despite the sign telling us they’re knackered.

In further technology news, my board is still making the same noise (it literally goes ‘doodly doo’ loudly and repeatedly) at random points of every lesson as it did in July. A temporary fix was put in place then; so temporary that it just never worked and the noise just continued. I was promised it’d be fixed. I was also promised that the wire that runs from my computer to my board would be replaced as it meant I had to hurdle it to get around that part of my classroom. Reader, I’m still hurdling.

There have been the delights of shared classes too. This year it feels like I share 94 groups, although it’s only three. But this still means the need to locate your books when needed as well as the sheer nightmare of working out where each class has got to while they’re with the other teacher. Often, this is just solved with an email, but it never fails to make things awkward! It also means that for the umpteenth year running, I’m an entire class’s least favourite English teacher and I get to hear that ‘Miss doesn’t do this’ or ‘Miss is nice’ at least 14 times a lesson.

Finally came a personal snag highlight in that where I park there are a few trees and it’s at this time of year that they seems to shed some kind of white sap. So, for the last two weeks, I’ve been possibly quite unique in being the only bloke driving a black and white polka dotted Mazda through West Yorkshire for the last two weeks.

As we edge towards the end of the second week I at least have reason for some optimism. My desk is roughly two metres wide and 1 metre deep. As I type, I think you can still see actual desk over approximately half of that area. Knowing that the piles of paper and books will inevitably grow, that 50% of desk is very much a reason to be cheerful!

Tag: Life