It’s been a sad few days recently. Firstly, old Champagne Charlie got the boot from the Lib Dems. While I am not of that wishy-washy political persuasion, I still have a lot of respect for Kennedy, their ex-leader. He proved that you could really be a man of the people, have the courage of your convictions and have a drink problem. Sir, I salute you. I don’t believe alcoholism is a problem in the political arena because most politicians lie and decieve without being under the influence. Plus, when you’ve had a snifter, you are often more than likely to tell the truth. I would have loved to have seen him continue. Meanwhile, the cowardly cretins that mounted a whispering campaign to remove him prove that their party isn’t that progressive afterall and is really the Tory party in disguise. Now Ming the Merciless is in the frame to lead. I hear that to counter this the Tories have approached Darth Vader to helm their party once they’ve ditched Cam the Man.
The other sad news was the untimely death of Tony Banks. I was hoping that it was the bouffant-haired keyboardist from Genesis, the man ultimately responsible for blandifying the band’s sound, but instead it was Lord Stratford who had the fatal stroke. Tony Banks was another man of the people, not afraid to say what he felt, a man who christened William “Vague” Hague a “foetus” and someone who did a lot of good for people and animals. Like the John Smiths of this world, we didn’t need to lose another good guy. Why couldn’t Gorgeous George Galloway drown in the CBB swimming pool or Thatcher the Milk Snatcher choke on the fresh mice that are delivered to her cage at mealtimes everyday? No…the bastards are left to roam the earth.
Talking of strokes, I had a stroke once. And if I am a good boy, the Missus said she’d let me have another one next week… (That joke was on loan from the Bob Monkhouse Museum and was brought to you courtesy of a National Lottery Grant).
Meanwhile, Golden Wonder, the purveyor of quality crisps, has gone into liquidation. I am a Salt and Vinegar guy myself and the company’s familiar light blue packets of potato shaped joy could melt the roof of your mouth off. They were a MAN’s crisp. And no more Nice ‘n’ Spicy Nik-Naks…I can’t face such a bleak crisp future. It’s a sad day at Chez Lock and I am wearing my black armband. I salute you all.
In my professional life, the one company that always gave me regular writing work, Paragon Publishing, a recent subsidiary of Highbury House, looks as if its days are numbered too. Parent company Highbury House is millions of quids in debt and the vultures are gathering. While I am sad to lose the work, I am even sadder at the thought that this company owes me a considerable amount of hard cash in work completed for them. I’ve submitted my invoices but I hear nothing. All I do hear is rumour from the newspapers telling tales how Highbury’s magazines were late to the shelves because the printers refused to set the presses rolling until money had exchanged hands. A piddling little freelancer like me has not fricking chance, does he?
If this money doesn’t come my way and the company goes into receivership, I’ll just have to write off the cash and tighten my belt. The problem is that the money owed goes towards my tax bill for next year and without it, I am in serious brown stuff (and I don’t mean HP – though things might be getting a little too saucy for me). So I seriously see a future time where I might just have to sell of my musical gear to stop the taxman getting mediaeval on my lilly-white ass with a hefty fine. The tax man fines first and asks questions later.
And so I have taken the advice given by the Missus over Xmas very seriously. The two-word advice she gave me was to “grow up”. Now to the outsider this makes me sound like I am in my romper suit and dribblng rusk down my chin, but it was a warning to discard the superfluous BS that dogs me. And so I have already sold a load of old crap that was littering the place, did a major tidy of the living room, spent less time on the Internet and have taken the bold decision to sell part of my bloated, unnecessary record collection. (See eBay link for details)
While I know it won’t go to any way to clearing my tax debt, I am hoping that I can get some cash behind me just in case of a worst case scenario. The thing I fear most is losing my home. If only I could get that job or at least get some steady writing jobs (with the impending dissolution of Highbury/Paragon, the pond gets smaller and the fish increase in numbers, chasing their tails for smaller and smaller morsels) then things might just be OK. I’ve been applying but I’ve not had a job interview since August 2003. Sometimes I think I’m cursed, other times I think I should just quit the media industry and try elsewhere. I seriously believe that I might just be over the hill at 34.
While this is all going on, I actually feel quite positive and chirpy. It’s a really strange feeling. It’s almost as if I can sense something really good is going to happen. Weird, ain’t it? Don’t you often get a sense of euphoria before you drop dead or something? 🙂
Category: Diary
Yesterday, I took delivery of my mother’s new TV set to replace her knackered old one. This was purchased during the Xmas period and was remarkably good value as it had a digital TV tuner (DVB) already built into it. She’s not the most technical able person in the world and I wanted her to take advantage of all those extra channels without her phoning me up at every opportunity asking: “How do I get the TV work?”
Luckily this Bush TV set was easy to use and had a great picture – even with a crappy internal aerial. I was very impressed for the money. And so once unpacked, we had to shift it to my mother’s house. I actually felt some tightness in my back as we went down the steps with the set. I must be getting old. Today, my lower back is twingeing somewhat, but I reckon a long soak in a hot bath will cure that.
Yesterday, I managed to blind “The Beast”. Adopting my usual Arthur Daley/Del Boy Trotter/eBay Spiv persona, I needed to sell some old bits and bobs. I was testing an old video card in my PC and when I put back my regular video card it didn’t work. Fucking bugger! Something failed and so I have to buy a replacement card and “The Beast” is out of action for a couple of days. No big deal, but the cost of the repair isn’t something I can afford. And I ended up with two duff video cards that I can’t flog on eBay. The shame of it all…
Insomnia continued again last night. Spent a good two-three hours listening to the snoring burbles eminating from both fronts. Heigh-ho… My problem is that at about 8pm/9pm at night, I have been nodding off in the chair and I think that this “power nap” is at the root of my sleeplessness even though I walk the Superdude before bedtime. But the problem with insomnia is that it is a self-fulfilling prophecy because you obssess so much about sleeping that you end up overtired and grumpy and not sleeping at all. Of course, if I was a little sozzled, I’d fall asleep immediately. This is the main symptom I get when I have a drink: some people take their clothes off, some people start fights, I fall asleep at the earliest opportunity. Ahhhh…booze the answer to all life’s questions, no?
Today: I am going around the house selling off various items in order to get some cash into the house. Taking the advice The Missus gave me over Xmas, I realise that I need to de-clutter and while clearing out all this excess crap that I don’t need, I reasoned that I can get some cash back on it all…so check those eBay auctions, eh?
It must be January as I am gripped by insomnia. I should have seen it coming because two nights ago I had trouble dropping off to sleep and last night it was a full-on attack. There’s nothing worse to be stone-cold awake when those around you (The Missus and Alex the Wonderdog) are oblvious to your panic as they drift in snorey sleep. After a couple of hours, I had thought myself into a neck ache. I self-medicated by grabbing my MP3 player and listening to some music until I drifted off.
Whenever I worry or have things on my mind, they manifest themselves in one of two ways. The second way is the insomnia and it can be tough work. When I was younger, I used to get it a lot and even when I was working found myself surviving on less than five hours sleep a night. The consequence of this when working is bulbous sore eyes and the likelihood to fall asleep during boring meetings and weekend shifts when no-one was around.
So now I am here with a thick head trying to squint at the screen and write this entry. I am hoping that this bout of insomnia will pass soon.
Meanwhile, my effort to change things continues…
Misery, despair, upset…
Yes, I start 2006 by getting my financial affairs in order. Cheques are written to appease the taxman and the credit card company. I see a four figure sum leaving the house and I feel tears of upset well in my eyes. Oh well, start as you mean to go on, no?
So do you feel any different? Did you get too drunk and do something you deeply regret? Did you vow to change your life in the New Year? Did you wake up this morning and wish you were dead?
Watched the London New Year’s Eve celebrations on the box last night and the fireworks display based around the London Eye was amazing. For once, I was kind of envious that I wasn’t there. Why wasn’t the Millennium Eve fireworks that good? But yes, it was one of the most spectacular 10 minutes of fireworks I’d seen and I hope they make it an annual thing.
On the illness front: the lurgy that plagued the Missus before Xmas has taken a grip on me. I have a sore throat and runny nose and the occasional sharp pains in the left ear. The symptoms keep disappearing though and I suddenly feel fine, only for the next day to feel rotten again. Apparently, this is the norm for this bug. Whoopsie do!
Today: chicken dinner followed by more Xmas pud and champagne. As I write this, I am also cooking lunch (ain’t I a magnificent multitasking motherfunner, eh?) and I am ready to go down to peel some spuds and get the veg prepared for our new vegetable steamer. I expect to spend the afternoon napping on the sofa, slightly sozzled on the champers. This is how we live.
Well what to say? It’s the last day of 2005 and boy has the time flown. This has to be the fastest year yet and it scares the life out of me. Next year, in February, I’ll be 35 years old – halfway through the average life expectancy for a male – and this perturbs me greatly.
There were some good points in 2005: seeing VDGG and Tom Jones in the same week, 5000 miles apart. Cool. I saw some good gigs and had many a good time sitting in the sun getting slowly toasted on cider. This is a good thing. I was born for that moment. I’ve found the guitar of my dreams, bought and sold a lot of gear and steadily recorded more music through the year. I also found time to write a little novel (which will probably never be read by anyone other than myself and The Missus, but I don’t care. It’s done and I like it and that’s the important thing).
Well whatever happens, I’ll still be here in 2006 (rent has been paid) trying to get good use out of all this webspace and boring you all with tales of my mundane life and the godammn awful music I make. Remember folks, you can still purchase my CDs at:
So a Happy New Year to my loyal reader and I hope you have a prosperous twelve months!
Hey – it actually did snow today. The white stuff settled giving us a dusting of about an inch, but at least Alex the Wonderdog got to get his paw prints in the snow. Funny how that when the conditions are fine, the little blighter won’t walk, but when the path is icy and treacherous he sprints along dragging you behind. Little sod.
Snow pictures:
