Thanks... I think!

A few months ago, when the weather was a little warmer than it is of late, I decided to go out for the day with my wife. On the way, we stopped to buy a few provisions so we might have some sort of meal on the beach. While in the supermarket buying the said provisions, I walked past a couple of young girls who would, I think, have been in their late teens/early twenties. Both of these girls worked at the store and were stacking the shelves. Because the weather was unusually warm I was only wearing a pair of three quarter trousers and a vest. As I passed the girls, who were in deep conversation about who they liked and hated, one nudged the other and said in a loud whisper, “He's got a good body... for his age!”

Is this a compliment? Just how old does she think I am? I liked the first part, the bit where she thought my body was good enough to pass comment on in a positive manner, but what if she thinks I'm in my seventies? I'm at an age where any compliment from a woman is greatly appreciated, and from a young woman, it's even better, but I can do without the tag line!

Last week, I visited a school and, as usual, had a lovely time meeting all the staff and students. One of the teachers was a big fan of my work, which is always good to hear. She was very positive about the effects that my books have on her students telling me that the kids love them. Then she went on to say, “It is lovely to see children laughing out loud as they read. Some of the boys in my class have no interest in books but will happily sit and read through your books. I have told them that you don't have to be a genius to write a book, and if you can get your books published, then anyone can get a book published!” I was with her all the way until the last sentence! I do understand what she meant, as the books are meant to be simple and easy to digest, but I think she could have complimented me in a different way!

All this brings me to the real reason for this blog. I laughed when I heard the news today that the Lords had told Osborne to go away and re-think his evil little bill to make the poorest in society suffer with his working tax reform. He claims that by forcing businesses to pay a living wage there will be no need for working tax benefits. But the companies that are now having to pay more in wages will pass it on to the customer, so prices will go up and negate the 'Living wage'. Besides, most companies will just make lots of redundancies to cover the cost of their new wage bills.

If you are not from Britain and are wondering just what the 'Lords' is, it's an archaic institution where unelected people interfere with bills past by the elected, this is the problem that I have with this situation. I don't like the House of Lords. Along with royalty, I think it's an outdated unnecessary waste of money. Although I applaud the fact that they made Osborne do a U-turn, what right do an unelected body have to tell an elected government what to do? We are a democracy and, unfortunately the people of this country voted in this mob of school-tied, banker-loving, self-congratulatory public school boys and a couple of girls. I know that they have a couple of working class ne'er do wells in there, but that description just about sums them up. So if they were voted in by the people with the manifesto that they had, then I'm afraid you have to wait another five years for them to tell you another load of bollocks for you to eagerly vote for. That is the way our democracy works; we vote for the government we want.

Just because the House of Lords stuck the boot in on this loathsome little bill, which I personally hated, doesn't mean that they can't do the same on something that would benefit millions! What if there was a bill saying that people should get an extra fifty pounds a week and the Lords didn't like it? What if they voted against it? You can't say you believe in democracy only when you benefit from it! I'm self-employed so I don't ever seem to benefit from anything! But that wouldn't stop me from voting to make sure we get a society where we look after our most vulnerable. I think it's time we looked at our political situation. There are lots of things that need changing. I also don't want a second house as they have in America which makes it nearly impossible to get things changed. But I certainly don't want unelected bodies interfering with an elected government, even if it's not the government that I would personally chose.

Now I'm going to sit back and see if I get any compliments to this blog such as, 'I like your blog, but you talk a load of crap!'

The Walker

Is death the final act of our existence? Are we more than just flesh and bones? These are the questions that have plagued mankind since he developed a conscious awareness of life.

Physicists are now toying with the ideas of infinite multi-verses. If this is true then you may well be alive and well in another parallel universe. What is death? Is it just a door to the next universe, the next level of consciousness? What if you are not a person but an entity, a force that uses electrical impulses to create its own life? If this were to be true you would be at your most vulnerable at the point of physical death.

Life takes shape in many forms and where there's ying there must therefore be yang, anti-life! What if there are demons, creatures that feed not on flesh and bone but the life-force that you carry with you? Time can be seen as a series of events that to us runs in a linear fashion, as if your mind is a camera that captures the events you have witnessed, the love, the happiness, the sadness, the fear. At the point of death, anti-life will find these life affirming memories very seductive.

When you are alone, scared, trying desperately to create a world you recognise, while being stalked by something, something you neither know of or understand, then a hand offered in help is like a beacon of light in a storm. It says I'm here no matter what, it says we can do this together, it says you are not alone. This is the job of the walker, a being that can be both human and energy, that can walk on earth and between dimensions.

In my new book, Death's Door I have looked at the process of death. I was forced to confront the whole issue last year when my lovely sister Theresa lost her battle with cancer. We had both had long conversations about, 'what next'? She was religious, while I think it's safe to say I am not. We had many long conversations about what might happen, some of them very funny. But the most worrying thing for her was that she was to face it alone, as must we all. One thing she always said was, “I hope Dad comes for me?” When her time came I, too, hope that he did, in her final moments.

The conversations both Theresa and I had were the bases of the idea for Death's Door. The fact that we must all face death alone. I thought, what if we don't? What if you are met and 'walked' to whatever happens next? Does it have to be a loved one that walks you, and what if you are confronted with your whole life? How do you make sense of it all?

In Death's Door both the walker and the walked have to face their own demons. They have to help each other make sense of death's nonsense. Though the book is nothing more than a horror story, it does raise the question, 'what are you going to do when death comes calling for you?'

Witches!

Silly season is upon us once again! It's nearly Halloween, where we hear about all the ghosts and ghouls that everyone has encountered. I have written in my blogs before about the ghost phenomenon, so I can't be bothered going over it again. Suffice it to say there's no such thing!

But a couple of days ago I had a chat with a woman who says she is a witch, a white witch. She had no reason to add the "white" bit. As with real life, I have no prejudice with colour, a witch is a witch to me. As well as ghosts, I have written before about gods, magic etc. and I can't be bothered to go over that again, either. Suffice it to say there's no such things!

I have met a few women in the past who have claimed to be witches, that is to be part of the Wiccan religion. I have also met men who claim to be wizards. The words 'mad', 'frogs' and 'box of' usually spring to mind when I talk to these people. I can understand people wanting to be pagan and celebrating the changing of the seasons, and have no problem with that, but the spells and magic bit is.. what's that word I'm looking for? Oh yes, BULLSHIT! If you disagree and you are very annoyed with my comments, please feel free to put a curse, spell or whatever you wish on me, and I'm in no doubt that at sometime in my life something bad will happen to me, as it does to everyone in the world.

The thing about witches is that in the past they were probably forces for good. They would undoubtedly have been old ladies who were trying to earn a few pennies by selling herbal remedies. Lots of these old women acted as midwives. My great-grandmother (see picture, below) was such a woman. She was a very fiery, scary woman by all accounts. I think it was me that finished her off. She had travelled the world and encountered the harshness of Siberian winters, attacks from mobs, and even walked away from an explosion that blew her house to bits. Yet when I was born and I was placed on her lap, she declared that I would be strong and famous, then died two weeks later. Well it was either me or the fact that she was 95 years old at the time.

She was in effect a traveller. Her family were wine merchants who travelled the whole of Europe selling their wines. She spoke many languages and even told fortunes when time were hard. She was a herbalist, selling some good, and, no doubt, some dubious concoctions to the people she encountered. She also acted as a midwife, although her methods were downright dangerous. She delivered my father and all his siblings using the 'birthing belt'! This was a large leather strap tied around the woman's stomach and tightened to force the baby out! It's a wonder any baby survived this treatment, but it seems she was in great demand. Her views were sought and held in high regard. She seems to have been a cross between Hannibal Lecter and Marjorie Proops. She was, in her youth, also very beautiful, and there are many paintings of her done by lots of different artists.

The problem was that her beloved Catholic church had used women such as her as scapegoats in the past for all of life's ills. They were called witches and had caused famines and blights when surely this was a thing God had done, not some poor old lady, unless the witches were more powerful than God, as prayers went unanswered at times like these. Lots of old ladies were declared to be witches simply so their land and possessions could be claimed by some heartless greedy man! People known as witch-finders made a living putting these hapless old dears in ducking stools, burning them alive! There are no records of any witch being burnt alive here in Britain, though many were hanged. If you have a burning desire (see what I did?) to read more about such things please read up on the Pendle witches, where a unscrupulous landowner claimed three sisters to be witches so he could claim their land. This is a good example of how faith and ignorance and bigotry come together to cause blind hatred!

For me, witches and wizards are all a bit silly, but they seem to be happy in their world so who am I to criticise a lifestyle? They aren't causing any wars or famines, or imposing their beliefs on others. They are not demanding that people respect their beliefs to the point that others have to change their way of life. They are not forcing people to eat certain foods while ignoring others, nor do they tell people what to wear or who to sleep with. They are not killing others who don't believe in the same things they do, nor do they genitally mutilate their children in the name of their beliefs. They are not creating unwanted pregnancies by telling people that condoms are evil, while the spread of AIDS wipes out sixty per cent of some countries' populations because of this. They don't want young girls to be married off at the age of nine or want to deny them an education. They don't want people to donate large portions of their earnings to their beliefs, nor do they want to cause guilt among their fellow believers.

So let's enjoy silly season, and thank your god that it's a time for witches and wizards and not for other religions, because they really are the things of nightmares!

The Body Beautiful?

There was a time when people who knew they were going to expose their bodies, for whatever reason, would try alter the shape of them.

If you were going on holiday or had a new love in your life, you would maybe do a little exercise or diet. Now it seems people just can't be bothered.

Having just been on holiday to warmer climes, because I'm British-born it means I feel the need to relinquish clothing in the sunshine. My body is by no means perfect, but it's not in bad condition for my age, as they say. I must also say my wife has quite a young figure - she does watch what she eats, and works out occasionally. I think I would be very self-conscious if I was over weight and unfit. But it seems that lots of Brits see the body beautiful through the eyes of a walrus. Why else would they let themselves get into such a shape? I witnessed young couples in their twenties so fat that they could hardly walk. A girl was so fat she could neither dive in the pool or climb down the steps. I thought to myself the last time I saw anything enter water the way she did, it had a polar bear chasing it! She rolled into the pool then she couldn't get back out, no doubt due to the lack of pack ice.

The Greek people who worked at the hotel where we were staying were all quite lithe. I don't know what they think when they get this onslaught of blubber each year. I heard two people talking about their type two diabetes, both must have been in their early thirties and very overweight. One of them spent each evening drinking cocktails until she was unable to stand! I can't work out how she developed diabetes!

I know this make me sound like a smug snob, which I know I can be at times. You have to think what effect all this has on the NHS. This has become a national scandal. Children are now losing their teeth before they are four, while many are morbidly obese by the time they are ten! People give all sorts of excuses for why they are overweight, but the real reason is laziness! They eat ready meals and takeaways, and have no idea about cooking and nutrition. They drive everywhere and don't exercise. Carol and I love long walks; for us to be trapped in a resort where we can't go out and about is something we detest. While on holiday we walked to the next resort on from where we were staying which was only about two and a half kilometres. When we enquired at reception how far the next resort was from us, the receptionist was shocked to find we had walked so far as TWO AND A HALF KILOMETRES! What is wrong with people?

When I was a child, my friends and I would walk at least six miles every evening. Not only would we walk this distance, but we would be climbing trees, jumping across rivers and running about chasing each other as we walked. I have worked with young people who refuse point blank to walk as far as one mile. This is why we have such an obesity epidemic here in Britain. We mock the Americans for their size but we, too, are eating the same shit as them, so therefore we, too, are becoming a nation of lardies!

I'm not saying that we should all live frugal lives. The government will see that you do that anyway, with their austerity plans. But we must all learn that everything in moderation is good. I like to exercise, but if you don't, take a walk with a loved one/friend. Have a chat as you walk. On a weekend, why not set off on a long walk and treat yourself with a pub lunch at the end of it, that way you have burned the calories off. Cut out fizzy drinks and start to cook your food from scratch, only having takeaways once a week. These simple little changes will help you live a happier and more productive life.

One more thing before I stop my heckle: stop the self-pitying and the excuses and take control of your own life!

Terror At 38,000 Feet and Other Jolly Holiday Stories!

We all look forward to our annual holiday, whether it be a few days by the coast here in Britain or a few months climbing some unforgiving mountain: it's what we all look forward to.

This year, my wife Carol and I decided that we would like to visit the Greek island of Corfu for a bit of sun, sea and relaxation. With everything booked, packed and sorted, we finally set off on what we believed was a well-earned rest.

A friend dropped us off at the airport and waved us off, telling us to have a good time. Carol always claims that going on holiday with me is like spending a week alone with a psychotic ten year old. I claim this is unfair, as I'm as mature as the next thirteen-year-old.

Soon we were on the plane and off up into the sky. Most people who fly know about the in-flight movies, but many are unaware that there are also computer games on those little consoles, and there is a game called "Bejewelled" which is a standard block-type game on there, which I get quite obsessed with. While Carol watched some chick-flick, I got stuck into my little game and ignored all around me. I had been playing the game for some time when I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of noise around me so I turned to Carol and was surprised to see her sitting bolt upright, her teeth clenched, eyes staring wildly forward and her hands firmly gripped onto the arm rests. I couldn't remember asking her for sex, so there must have been something else causing her to freeze like this. It was then that I noticed that most of the people around us were in the same state of panic.

I was about to ask why Carol was in such a state of shock when the aeroplane dropped alarmingly dowwards. People made the same noises usually reserved for roller-coaster rides, but did it with a lot more urgency. We had hit a storm as we were about to land. Because I had been so wrapped up in the computer game, I hadn't noticed that the pilot had tried to land on many occasions, but the plane was being blown about like a sweet wrapper in the wind. I thought it was just a bit of turbulence.

Finally the pilot announced over the intercom that the storm was so bad it was impossible to land and we were running out of fuel, so he had no choice but to make a run for it and land in mainland Greece. He said this in the same voice that I use when Carol is map-reading for me on a long journey in the car! He was either trying to hide his fear, or his anger!

Once safely on the ground we were held up in the aeroplane not allowed out. The plane was refuelled and we had to wait out the storm. Situations like this bring out the best and the worst in people. The cabin crew were wonderful. They, too, had never encountered anything like this. But it wasn't long before Mr Posh who knows everything stepped forward accusing the pilot of doing this on purpose.

The cabin crew explained to this high-rate (see what I did there?) arse-hole that the pilot's main concern is for the safety of the passengers and the plane. I think it may have been the other way round, but anyway you get my drift. Then Mr Posh announced in a very theatrical loud voice, “I have looked on Google and it says the weather is fine there!” Which then begs the questions of what was that we had just encountered then? Was the pilot actually trying to land in Corfu or in the Bermuda Triangle? Or was Mr Posh a retarded half wit?! It seems the answer was indeed 'C'.

We had set off at 3pm, and at nearly 2am we touched down on a wet and stormy Corfu. Pilot 1, Google nil.

All went as planned from that point on, until we reached our hotel. While we were being checked in by a sleepy dishevelled receptionist who had obviously fallen asleep at his desk prior to our arrival. His English was not the best, but was far superior to my Greek. It was, by now, well past two in the morning and everything was closed up for the night. On completing our check-in, we were then handed a plate containing a warm unhappy looking sandwich, crisps and a peach? This was to be our 'welcome meal'. 

But who cares? All Carol and I wanted was to get off to bed for some shut-eye. Before we could leave reception, however, the next set of people who were to book in started to complain that everything was shut up. This tiresome little man was the type that likes to try and get everyone else to gang up on his hapless victims when he complains. You know the sort. They talk in a very loud voice and look around the room with a sneer on their miserable little faces while they point out something which is out of the control of the person they are complaining to. I like to pretend to be on the side of the self-righteous, while slowly mocking them in front of their audience. Though I was tired, I felt it was my duty to join in with my fellow Brit, who, for some unknown reason, started talking as if he was in a 1930's western movie.

“We fly long way to be here tonight” he started, while looking at me for back up.

I, of course, thought it was only right to help out my fellow traveller, “We fly in big iron bird,” I added. Carol then kicked me on the ankles at this point, but for some reason the other guy nodded in agreement.

“We have no food, no drink for long time!” was his next attempt at speaking Greek.

“He, heap-um hungry,” I added. By now, Carol had walked off to try and find our room.

“This only food you give to me and wife.”

“His squaw mighty big woman, need more food!” This was a bit too far, as the Brit turned to me and said, “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Me go, ciao, ciao then go pow wow!” I said, waving to him while walking off, as I'm sure he was ready to take a punch at me. The receptionist looked on with a look of a man that neither cared or bothered.

This couple ignored both Carol and myself for the rest of the holiday, obviously thinking that we were both suffering from some sort of mental illness. I did overhear him talking to others about all his previous holidays that were spent on the isle of Kos, “But it said on the news that loads of immigrants are landing there now, so they will destroy the island. That's why we're not going there this year. Shame he wasn't talking to me any more because I could have pointed out to him that tourism is a form of mass immigration and it's very beneficial to the island. The way the Greek people have handled the REFUGEE crisis is to be applauded, even though it is destroying their economy because idiots like my little friend their have cancelled their holidays. One of the reasons we chose to go to a Greek island was to help support the Greek people, albeit in a very small way. Rhodes was our first choice which has lots of refugees landing there at the moment. The reason we chose not to go there in the end was because of the heat. It was just far too hot.

One of my little pleasures in life is 'Doing a Gezzy'. I tend only to do these now while on holiday. If you have read my previous blogs on this subject you will know that this is me winding people up just for my own perverse amusement. But while on holiday, I said something to someone which I thought was obviously untrue and said just tongue in cheek, only for them to believe me.

While in the dining room of the hotel getting some food, I was faced with the dilemma of taking the last of something or letting someone else have it. I had fixed a really nice salad for myself from the buffet bar and went to get some prawns. There were only a few left. I put in the spoon to get them when an elderly lady also made an attack on them. We both stopped and looked at each other, looking to see who would give in. I smiled and said to her, “You take them, I have an over-active typhoid gland and if I eat a prawn, I swell to the size of a Zeppelin and start barking like a duck-billed platypus!” I then walked off and filled my plate with chicken.

A little later that evening Carol had gone to the bar and came back sat down and punched me in the arm saying, “Go on, tell me what crap you have been saying now?” I am always being accused by Carol of talking crap, but this is only true for about 40% of the time. This time I genuinely didn't know what she was on about.

“The old lady over there is concerned about your over active thyroid gland”.

“I don't know what you're talking about”.

“She said that if you eat a prawn you swell up and bark or something? I tell you what was funny though, she said you had an over active typhoid gland?”

“Ignore her, I didn't say anything about having an over active thyroid gland, she's probably pissed.” With that, we started to chat about something else. For once I wasn't lying because I definitely said 'typhoid gland'.

The only Gezzy I managed to do on this holiday was one of the stranger ones. While Carol was buying up quantities of tourist tat to give to people we don't like, I sat outside various emporiums of Greek merchandise, all made in China. When a man made a tutting sound in my direction. I looked at him to see what it was I had done to deserve the tut. But it was one of those "talk to me" tuts, you know, “Look at us standing here while them women are in there shopping, what are we like?” I smiled back and nodded. He then started to chat to me. At first it was the usual sport-based chat and holiday chat then it turned to the thing that people who go to Greece seem to be obsessed with, will there be refugees there? He made quite few negative and, for me, quite irritating comments on the subject, based on 'let them drown' or 'send them back'. I was about to tell him to 'go forth and multiply' when I decided on a cunning plan.

“Have you seen the news this week?” I asked, hoping that he hadn't.

“No, Why?”

“Cameron has been caught asking Asians living in Britain to claim that they are from Syria. This is so he can tell the EU that he has taking in his quota of refugees and doesn't have to take any in!"

“That's brilliant, the man's a genius!” replied my small-minded little bigoted friend.

“In return, he's given each person a thousand pounds and a new council house for helping him out.”

“What the fuck has he done that for, the stupid bastard? Why should I pay for them to have a council 'ouse? They already get first dibs on them. And why a grand? The don't give me fuck all, don't this government!” Which wasn't true, as I found out later he was on disability benefit, but he seemed to get about OK to me.

It wasn't until two days later, while talking to someone else in a bar, that this one came back to me. The couple we were talking to told us about Cameron's little deal with, 'The Asians' who ever 'The Asians' are supposed to be.

The problem is that later Carol asked me if I thought this was true? You see I am strictly forbidden to do a Gezzy by Carol because of the trouble she says it causes. So I couldn't tell her that I had told the eejit a few days earlier the same story to wind him up, but I was very disappointed that Carol even considered this to be true, although with this government, anything is believable.

Got to go now, my typhoid gland is playing me up!