Whilst at the supermarket checkout today I was an inadvertent party to the following from a twenty-something female...
"I'm sick of waiting for him, he's had his last chance off me. I'm having the divorce now. Anyway, I've seen a fit lad on Facebook, my mate knows him so I'm gonna get off with him then it'll all be sorted. OK then see ya"
Thursday, 23 May 2013
Sunday, 12 May 2013
Pippi Longstocking of Blackley, Manchester
Where do I start with the flame-haired legend Carmel Stubbs? I have never met anyone quite like her in my life to date. It's impossible to do her justice with just a few words in a blog so I could sum her up as a "character with a heart of gold".
Our paths through life crossed in the less than thrilling surroundings of a local authority office. She worked in a different department to me but her legend had reached me within a few months of my start date. She was variously described as "nuts", "a one off" and "once met, never forgotten". She is indeed all these things. My first impression of her was a bit off-putting. She was loud, opinionated and highly demonstrative but I quickly realised she was not like anyone else I'd met from council life so in this sense she was refreshing and a raging storm of fresh air. She was a rebel without a cause and I grew to admire her for it.
I named her Pippi Longstocking as she occasionally wore an outfit straight from the fictitious girl's wardrobe. With her flowing ginger hair and unruly manner she was this character brought to life. My personality is as far removed from hers as is humanly possible, however, the old adage of opposites attracting surely summed up our unlikely friendship.We started to chat more often (when she wasn't distracted) and I noted she seized upon small details that were important to me. Occasionally, she has angered me but she is impossible to fall out with and from being colleagues we became friends. She also has a unique sense of humour. Her wit is sharper than a flashing blade.
The world is a far more entertaining place with Carmel "Pippi" Stubbs in it.
Our paths through life crossed in the less than thrilling surroundings of a local authority office. She worked in a different department to me but her legend had reached me within a few months of my start date. She was variously described as "nuts", "a one off" and "once met, never forgotten". She is indeed all these things. My first impression of her was a bit off-putting. She was loud, opinionated and highly demonstrative but I quickly realised she was not like anyone else I'd met from council life so in this sense she was refreshing and a raging storm of fresh air. She was a rebel without a cause and I grew to admire her for it.
I named her Pippi Longstocking as she occasionally wore an outfit straight from the fictitious girl's wardrobe. With her flowing ginger hair and unruly manner she was this character brought to life. My personality is as far removed from hers as is humanly possible, however, the old adage of opposites attracting surely summed up our unlikely friendship.We started to chat more often (when she wasn't distracted) and I noted she seized upon small details that were important to me. Occasionally, she has angered me but she is impossible to fall out with and from being colleagues we became friends. She also has a unique sense of humour. Her wit is sharper than a flashing blade.
The world is a far more entertaining place with Carmel "Pippi" Stubbs in it.
The Bolton Belle
After I switched jobs at the council I took up a "back office" position. My new role involved working closely with Liz Bell. Liz is 20 years younger than me but her outlook on life and wisdom belied her youth. She was charged with training me (not an easy job for anybody) but carried out this task with effortless efficiency. Previously, I'd had some bad experiences with younger people training me (see Housing Trust Babysitter post) but this wasn't one of them. Liz was kind, patient & friendly. Her selflessness was remarkable and we forged a surprisingly successful team of 2.
I worked with Liz for just 9 months but this would prove to be the happiest time in any job I'd had for a number of years. Everything was going swimmingly for me until she found a more suitable job nearer to home so she left with my very best wishes. However, it also left me with a very heavy heart. When I started in the role working with her, my confidence was at a low ebb but by the time she left I felt much more secure and better placed all round to tackle future tasks in this workplace.
Liz is a truly lovely girl. I am still in occasional touch with her and continue to wish only good things for her.
I worked with Liz for just 9 months but this would prove to be the happiest time in any job I'd had for a number of years. Everything was going swimmingly for me until she found a more suitable job nearer to home so she left with my very best wishes. However, it also left me with a very heavy heart. When I started in the role working with her, my confidence was at a low ebb but by the time she left I felt much more secure and better placed all round to tackle future tasks in this workplace.
Liz is a truly lovely girl. I am still in occasional touch with her and continue to wish only good things for her.
Affable Carole
I left a job in local government over a year ago now. I left voluntarily. My informed decision was not taken lightly and like most jobs, it had it's good and bad points. I wish to use the next few posts to highlight a few colleagues who enriched my time in the authority and I feel deserve lavish praise for the part they played in this period of my working life.
First up is Carole. Upon joining the local authority I had to endure a week long induction. That's correct, a WEEK long. A day would have been more than sufficient as the roles we were going into didn't require a bombardment with unnecessary information we were never likely to need for the job in hand. Anyway, there were 2 other new starters with me for this week of attrition. One of them was Carole Jones.
I warmed to Carole straight away as she had a friendly smile and a affable personality. We helped each other along with confidence boosting encouragement and friendly advice if and when needed as the week unfolded. I was completely at ease in her company and if it wasn't for her I would have struggled and may even have questioned taking up the forthcoming role.
Once we started the role we were "customer facing" on opposite help desks. This proved to be the wrong role for me at the wrong time. However, in the 3 months I worked opposite and alongside her she made a huge impression on me (all positive) and I continued to chat with her regularly after I switched roles within the council. She is marvelously non-judgmental and a wonderfully warm person.
First up is Carole. Upon joining the local authority I had to endure a week long induction. That's correct, a WEEK long. A day would have been more than sufficient as the roles we were going into didn't require a bombardment with unnecessary information we were never likely to need for the job in hand. Anyway, there were 2 other new starters with me for this week of attrition. One of them was Carole Jones.
I warmed to Carole straight away as she had a friendly smile and a affable personality. We helped each other along with confidence boosting encouragement and friendly advice if and when needed as the week unfolded. I was completely at ease in her company and if it wasn't for her I would have struggled and may even have questioned taking up the forthcoming role.
Once we started the role we were "customer facing" on opposite help desks. This proved to be the wrong role for me at the wrong time. However, in the 3 months I worked opposite and alongside her she made a huge impression on me (all positive) and I continued to chat with her regularly after I switched roles within the council. She is marvelously non-judgmental and a wonderfully warm person.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
New Dawn's Light
Towering trees soar high above
Reaching up to leaden skies
Clouds emptying droplets of rain
Thoughts of bridges burnt and severance of ties
Toxic leaves flower from seeds of doubt
Buried demons rise through poisoned ground
Nettles grasped, then freed in pain
Opportunities lost and never found
Conflicting collisions of body and soul
Sands of time slip through frozen hands
A daily struggle to fill the voids
Energy sapped by expectation and demands
The cycle of life can puncture and stall
Never lose faith, hope and belief
Out of darkness into a new dawn's light
Finding love can be welcome relief
Reaching up to leaden skies
Clouds emptying droplets of rain
Thoughts of bridges burnt and severance of ties
Toxic leaves flower from seeds of doubt
Buried demons rise through poisoned ground
Nettles grasped, then freed in pain
Opportunities lost and never found
Conflicting collisions of body and soul
Sands of time slip through frozen hands
A daily struggle to fill the voids
Energy sapped by expectation and demands
The cycle of life can puncture and stall
Never lose faith, hope and belief
Out of darkness into a new dawn's light
Finding love can be welcome relief
Monday, 22 April 2013
Ode to Suarez
Luis, Luis, why did you do it ?
You bit his arm like a rabid dog
You're unhinged, disturbed, your canon is loose
Now you've even made it into my blog
You're South American with rabbit like teeth
Protruding from your mouth like small tombstones
Next time on the pitch you'll have to wear a muzzle
Instead of pasta, your diet's now bones
Keep your mouth shut Luis, you're self destructing
Ivanovic's rabies shot should ease his pains
You score goals for fun but wasting your talent
You're not an egghead, you have sludge for brains
You're barking mad with issues unresolved
No doubt in my mind you are a bad seed
Accept your ban and stay where you are
You're only allowed out now when you're on a lead
12 months on and your team blew the title
Blame your captain, you know he slipped up
Oh Suarez, please stop your sobbing
You can play handball again in the World Cup!
You bit his arm like a rabid dog
You're unhinged, disturbed, your canon is loose
Now you've even made it into my blog
You're South American with rabbit like teeth
Protruding from your mouth like small tombstones
Next time on the pitch you'll have to wear a muzzle
Instead of pasta, your diet's now bones
Keep your mouth shut Luis, you're self destructing
Ivanovic's rabies shot should ease his pains
You score goals for fun but wasting your talent
You're not an egghead, you have sludge for brains
You're barking mad with issues unresolved
No doubt in my mind you are a bad seed
Accept your ban and stay where you are
You're only allowed out now when you're on a lead
12 months on and your team blew the title
Blame your captain, you know he slipped up
Oh Suarez, please stop your sobbing
You can play handball again in the World Cup!
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
You Ain't Seen Ruthin Yet
I have stayed in JD Wetherspoons hotels many times over the last 10 years in places as diverse as Salisbury; Monmouth and Chesterfield. They have all had individual characteristics and all had good and not so good features. However, last weekend my wife and I stayed in a recently opened Wetherlodge in Ruthin (pronunciation rhymes with "muffin") in North Wales. I am unable to fault any aspect of this hotel or indeed this delightfully quirky town.
Like most other people from the North of England I have visited North Wales countless times down the years. However, I have tended towards the coastal towns of Llandudno etc. Of course, this coast has beautiful scenery and has pockets of Welsh speakers but also vast amounts of tourists which always seems to dilute my enjoyment of any trip. Ruthin, however, lies in the shadow of the Clwydian hills and is unspoiled.
Upon arrival at the friendly, economically priced Wetherlodge, we decided to leave the unpacking and head straight out to see what the town had to offer. We were based in St Peter's Square which is the historic centre of the town. I was immediately impressed by the "other worldly" nature of the buildings and surrounded on 3 sides by the beautiful Clwydian hills. After spending some time browsing the independent shops and taking a tour of the fascinating Ruthin Gaol (closed as a working Gaol since 1916) it was apparent that the first language of most of the inhabitants was Welsh. This felt like a true step back in time and made the whole visit a greatly enjoyable experience. Tourists in any great numbers appear to be uncommon to this area. However, it is clear the Wetherspoons hotel is likely to change this state of affairs in the near future.
The rest of the weekend was spent exploring the surrounding area. It literally felt like a huge breath of fresh air. All the local people we came into contact with were friendly and welcoming and just as happy to converse with us in English. Many people's families have obviously lived in this town for many generations and I found their everyday use of the native Welsh language very refreshing.
This town has a remarkably low crime rate and, personally, was the perfect way to unwind and relax with a few drinks in a wonderfully scenic location.
Well done Ruthin!
Like most other people from the North of England I have visited North Wales countless times down the years. However, I have tended towards the coastal towns of Llandudno etc. Of course, this coast has beautiful scenery and has pockets of Welsh speakers but also vast amounts of tourists which always seems to dilute my enjoyment of any trip. Ruthin, however, lies in the shadow of the Clwydian hills and is unspoiled.
Upon arrival at the friendly, economically priced Wetherlodge, we decided to leave the unpacking and head straight out to see what the town had to offer. We were based in St Peter's Square which is the historic centre of the town. I was immediately impressed by the "other worldly" nature of the buildings and surrounded on 3 sides by the beautiful Clwydian hills. After spending some time browsing the independent shops and taking a tour of the fascinating Ruthin Gaol (closed as a working Gaol since 1916) it was apparent that the first language of most of the inhabitants was Welsh. This felt like a true step back in time and made the whole visit a greatly enjoyable experience. Tourists in any great numbers appear to be uncommon to this area. However, it is clear the Wetherspoons hotel is likely to change this state of affairs in the near future.
The rest of the weekend was spent exploring the surrounding area. It literally felt like a huge breath of fresh air. All the local people we came into contact with were friendly and welcoming and just as happy to converse with us in English. Many people's families have obviously lived in this town for many generations and I found their everyday use of the native Welsh language very refreshing.
This town has a remarkably low crime rate and, personally, was the perfect way to unwind and relax with a few drinks in a wonderfully scenic location.
Well done Ruthin!
Friday, 5 April 2013
Uwe Rosler - Mistaken Identity
I have a face that throughout my life seems to have lent itself to looking like well known people. These have ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. Of course, as we live our lives and get older our appearance changes, and in line with this, the fame of people we are likened to comes and goes.
At school, amongst the more printable nicknames I had was "Brezhnev", named after the Soviet Union leader at the time Leonid Brezhnev. My eyebrows were (and still are to an extent, although I discovered male grooming products some years ago) of a naturally rather bushy nature and Brezhnev was one of the most powerful men in the world in the 1970s and possessed the most powerful eyebrows known to mankind.
Upon leaving school, my next major lookalike, apparently, was Ian Marshall, the former Oldham Athletic footballer. He owned the finest mullet of the late 80s/early 90s. He was also known as NOT being the most handsome of fellows so this comparison greatly perturbed me. This was followed by Statto from the football show The Fantasy Football League, another chap who failed his male model interview. There then followed the lookalike that stuck around the longest and, at one stage, threatened to get out of hand.
In the mid 1990s a German striker joined my beloved Manchester City FC named Uwe Rosler. He was little known outside Germany at the time but the City fans took to him immediately as he scored regularly in a struggling City side and his goals saved City from relegation in his first season. I was a regular visitor to Maine Road at this time and after about 2 or 3 of his games, a mate turned to me and said "You look a bit like Uwe you know". I scoffed at this remark but inwardly was rather pleased as this was the first person I had been likened to who wasn't pug ugly!
I never thought much more about it but then in the workplace a few others latched on to this and started calling me "Uwe" (pronounced "oo-vay"). This reached it's peak after an away FA Cup replay against Newcastle on a freezing midweek night. I traveled to the match at St James' Park with a few mates and City overturned the odds and won the match 2-1. Rosler was superb that night and was man of the match by some distance. The following day at work when I walked in there was a chant of "Uwe! Uwe! Uwe!". I loved it.
A few weeks later I was returning home from work when a kid in the street where I lived approached me as I got out of my car and said "Eh, you look dead like that Uwe Rosler what plays for City". Just for a laugh I said "What do you mean lad, I am Uwe Rosler". He looked gobsmacked and speechless, then ran off down the street. A couple of days later, as I ventured to the local shop, a group of lads including the aforementioned kid were having a kick-about in the street. As I passed them one said "Eh look! It's Rosler, I told you he lived in our street"! They then launched into the City chant of the day "UUUUWWWEEE, UWE ROS-ER-LER ! UUUUWWWEEE, UWE ROS-ER-LER!" etc etc. This was becoming ridiculous. I lived in a post code not even remotely like an area a Premier league footballer would be living in. My innocent jape with an impressionable child had clearly backfired.
There followed many more excitable sightings of me by the local children, despite me apologising to them and saying I wasn't actually Uwe Rosler. Eventually, one day as I was passing a group of them again in the street, a couple approached me and one said "My dad said you aren't Uwe Rosler". I told them I wasn't several times before but they now finally believed me. After this, they pretty much ignored me except for one final time when one of them said "Eh there's that man who THINKS he's Uwe Rosler". The cheeky little scamp!
In more recent years I have been likened to Frank Skinner, James Anderson (cricketer) and even that I have the "mannerisms" of Simon Gregson (Steve MacDonald in Coronation Street). As I get older I dread to think who will be next.
At school, amongst the more printable nicknames I had was "Brezhnev", named after the Soviet Union leader at the time Leonid Brezhnev. My eyebrows were (and still are to an extent, although I discovered male grooming products some years ago) of a naturally rather bushy nature and Brezhnev was one of the most powerful men in the world in the 1970s and possessed the most powerful eyebrows known to mankind.
Upon leaving school, my next major lookalike, apparently, was Ian Marshall, the former Oldham Athletic footballer. He owned the finest mullet of the late 80s/early 90s. He was also known as NOT being the most handsome of fellows so this comparison greatly perturbed me. This was followed by Statto from the football show The Fantasy Football League, another chap who failed his male model interview. There then followed the lookalike that stuck around the longest and, at one stage, threatened to get out of hand.
In the mid 1990s a German striker joined my beloved Manchester City FC named Uwe Rosler. He was little known outside Germany at the time but the City fans took to him immediately as he scored regularly in a struggling City side and his goals saved City from relegation in his first season. I was a regular visitor to Maine Road at this time and after about 2 or 3 of his games, a mate turned to me and said "You look a bit like Uwe you know". I scoffed at this remark but inwardly was rather pleased as this was the first person I had been likened to who wasn't pug ugly!
I never thought much more about it but then in the workplace a few others latched on to this and started calling me "Uwe" (pronounced "oo-vay"). This reached it's peak after an away FA Cup replay against Newcastle on a freezing midweek night. I traveled to the match at St James' Park with a few mates and City overturned the odds and won the match 2-1. Rosler was superb that night and was man of the match by some distance. The following day at work when I walked in there was a chant of "Uwe! Uwe! Uwe!". I loved it.
A few weeks later I was returning home from work when a kid in the street where I lived approached me as I got out of my car and said "Eh, you look dead like that Uwe Rosler what plays for City". Just for a laugh I said "What do you mean lad, I am Uwe Rosler". He looked gobsmacked and speechless, then ran off down the street. A couple of days later, as I ventured to the local shop, a group of lads including the aforementioned kid were having a kick-about in the street. As I passed them one said "Eh look! It's Rosler, I told you he lived in our street"! They then launched into the City chant of the day "UUUUWWWEEE, UWE ROS-ER-LER ! UUUUWWWEEE, UWE ROS-ER-LER!" etc etc. This was becoming ridiculous. I lived in a post code not even remotely like an area a Premier league footballer would be living in. My innocent jape with an impressionable child had clearly backfired.
There followed many more excitable sightings of me by the local children, despite me apologising to them and saying I wasn't actually Uwe Rosler. Eventually, one day as I was passing a group of them again in the street, a couple approached me and one said "My dad said you aren't Uwe Rosler". I told them I wasn't several times before but they now finally believed me. After this, they pretty much ignored me except for one final time when one of them said "Eh there's that man who THINKS he's Uwe Rosler". The cheeky little scamp!
In more recent years I have been likened to Frank Skinner, James Anderson (cricketer) and even that I have the "mannerisms" of Simon Gregson (Steve MacDonald in Coronation Street). As I get older I dread to think who will be next.
Thursday, 28 March 2013
Chased By A Penguin
So there I was washing the dishes in the kitchen. Just like any other day really. The Fairy Liquid entered the bowl to be met by a stream of hot water. The bowl filled and I placed the unwashed glasses in to the bowl. I proceeded to wash the first glass when it happened....
The kitchen window looks out onto a patio area behind the house. Whilst carrying out this menial task I occasionally glanced out of the window to view a passing bird, cat or......Emperor penguin ! Yes, you read that correctly reader. This tallest of penguins had stopped outside the aforementioned window and was now staring into my eyes. I froze in shock. The penguin then slapped it's beak against the window in a most threatening fashion.
Panic took over and foolishly I decided to run out of the back door and head for the front garden. I looked behind me and the fish eating monster was now bearing down on me. I ran as fast as I could out into the street but my predator was now waddling towards me at unfeasibly high speed. Suddenly, I saw a bus ahead and fled to the bus stop. The Emperor was now closing in on me. As I reached the bus stop the driver stopped and opened his doors. I leapt on board and to my huge relief the driver closed the doors in the nick of time, as a huge beak was now pounding at the doors of the bus. As the driver sped off I turned around....and woke up. It's another one of my vivid nightmares. I've booked myself in for therapy...
The kitchen window looks out onto a patio area behind the house. Whilst carrying out this menial task I occasionally glanced out of the window to view a passing bird, cat or......Emperor penguin ! Yes, you read that correctly reader. This tallest of penguins had stopped outside the aforementioned window and was now staring into my eyes. I froze in shock. The penguin then slapped it's beak against the window in a most threatening fashion.
Panic took over and foolishly I decided to run out of the back door and head for the front garden. I looked behind me and the fish eating monster was now bearing down on me. I ran as fast as I could out into the street but my predator was now waddling towards me at unfeasibly high speed. Suddenly, I saw a bus ahead and fled to the bus stop. The Emperor was now closing in on me. As I reached the bus stop the driver stopped and opened his doors. I leapt on board and to my huge relief the driver closed the doors in the nick of time, as a huge beak was now pounding at the doors of the bus. As the driver sped off I turned around....and woke up. It's another one of my vivid nightmares. I've booked myself in for therapy...
Friday, 22 March 2013
I Met My Love By A Fax Machine
I met my love by a fax machine
A backdrop of colleagues with ridiculous hair
When mobiles were carried in huge cases
Tories in power who never did care
A soul-less business in the era of the yuppie
Sharp suits, sharper lies in offices of deceit
Ripped jeans and curly hair was my look of choice
Shoulder pads, pencil skirts, stilettos on her feet
An Irish/Italian union
Boiling blood, harsh words, little saving grace
Too much teasing, immature, displeasing
An insult too many then a slap across my face
Wounded and bruised, my ego in tatters
Notched down a peg or two, maybe even four
Solace found in football and beer
When love knocked on my door
The olive-skinned girl tamed her temper
Her warm heart revealed in my second sight
My life changed forever when consumed by her love
From out of darkness to eternal light
A backdrop of colleagues with ridiculous hair
When mobiles were carried in huge cases
Tories in power who never did care
A soul-less business in the era of the yuppie
Sharp suits, sharper lies in offices of deceit
Ripped jeans and curly hair was my look of choice
Shoulder pads, pencil skirts, stilettos on her feet
An Irish/Italian union
Boiling blood, harsh words, little saving grace
Too much teasing, immature, displeasing
An insult too many then a slap across my face
Wounded and bruised, my ego in tatters
Notched down a peg or two, maybe even four
Solace found in football and beer
When love knocked on my door
The olive-skinned girl tamed her temper
Her warm heart revealed in my second sight
My life changed forever when consumed by her love
From out of darkness to eternal light
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