What are you most excited about for the future?
Dripping with sarcasm mode ::on::
I once heard someone say that the person who will live till 200 years old has already been born, medical advances will be so quick that this will be normal— fingers crossed.
Getting to the shops via jetpack is long overdue —science bods need to get a wriggle on
Living on Mars used to be in comics when I was a boy. Which was over 50 years ago, yes yes poetic licence, (latin for lies), so that shouldn’t be long now. Matt Damon coped, how hard can it be?!
All that stuff in Back ToThe Future —hover boards et al. Come on now if an art department can come up with stuff surely Mr Dyson or Apple must have something in the pipeline.
Personally I want that Matrix thing to be real — plug into my neck and boom: perfect pianist, fluent in French, Ex-Wimbledon-standard tennis player, fit, lithe, washboard abs, and the uncanny ability to make a fortune on the stock exchange over breakfast.
We need to agree on some stuff for the good of everyone. In the future we need to question anyone who doesn’t grasp the concept of ‘for the good of the community, the good of society, or the good of the planet.
Selfish behaviour should be so frowned upon that being a billionaire will just feel awkward and wrong.
In the future politicians should be held accountable. If you don’t achieve and cross off your list all the things you promised in your manifesto then you don’t get to be a politician again. If you can’t do the job find something else to do. It might stop idiots applying in the first place.
Futuristic transport should just be factored in to the cost of running a country. Fast, low energy and free for all citizens, a basic human right.
Ice cream should be very good and full of nutrients.
Roller skate Fridays, Clean sheets, big comfy arm chairs, a dog for everyone, sherbet for breakfast
I might need a lie down.
If you were going to open up a shop, what would you sell?
I have done this and I would do it again. If that counts. If it were possible, I would do it in a different decade to the early 90’s that I chose.
The first few years of my married life were spent abroad, and when we returned to the UK, the area of south London we moved to was mostly chosen by the suitability of the trains into the city for my wife’s job.
In our local high street was a record shop that I used to frequent and give them a lot of my money. I became friends with the owner, and at the moment he mentioned he was thinking of selling, I jumped in and became the owner of a record shop. Which means I spent a lot more time there, but I spent less money in record shops. Instead, I gave it all to record companies.
In some senses, it was the perfect job. It was necessary to play music all day, to talk about music, to read about music, and buy a lot of music. Not always music you personally liked. The first year we were the owners, the Christmas number one was Mr Blobby.
It was also possibly not the best time to purchase a record shop; supermarkets like Tesco could sell the top forty CDs cheaper than I could buy them from the record label because they used them as loss leaders. I did consider selling baked beans really cheaply to see how they liked it, but I figured they wouldn’t notice.
It was also the time of Napster and Limewire, and rather than discussing the latest releases, the young were discussing how many downloads you could get for free. It felt like the beginning of the end.
Despite all that, it was a fun few years of my life. I have drank coffee with Aimee Mann (promoting a new album) for an hour while she chatted away with us and refused to leave because we were the coolest guys she had met all day.
Des’ree, at the height of her fame, would visit her mother and drop into buy some music on her way past. The endless free gig tickets from record labels to get us onside with promoting their latest surefire hit was a nice perk.
In the first few months, a customer whose job was proofreading novels gave me a draft copy of High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, and it felt like I was reading about myself.
The day we went to the police station around the corner to report, we could smell gas, possibly coming from the next door restaurant, and were worried. Two screaming fire engines, and the loud mockery of firemen later, as we learnt that the smell of damp wood from the property behind us was the reason.
And yes, it does smell very much like gas, and well, sir, it is probably the fact that it rained a lot last night that caused that. Oh, and of course, they do store a lot of wood, what with it being owned by a carpenter and everything.
The constant betting amongst the staff of what would be a hit. The endless squabbling to earn the right to choose what we played next. The knowing that you would never make a fortune, but it was still fun.
Christmas Eve was the maddest day of the year, and we were almost trying to force the door closed at the end of the day as one more person just needed to get something for their mother. Who, clearly, you love so much, that you have left it until now to get her that album she has always wanted.
When I left, a CD album cost £13.99. I recently saw a brand new vinyl copy of Fleetwood Mac Rumours album for £24.99. Which not only makes me question my decision to get out, but also makes me wonder: who the hell doesn’t already own that album — let alone on vinyl?
It came to an end when I sold up. A pub chain offered to buy out my lease, and the landscape was already looking bleak for independent record shops.
I would do it again. In fairness, it would need to be something like the early 80s. It would make me more money, but we would probably still be arguing over what we played next.
Three jobs you’d consider pursuing if money didn’t matter.
This is a safe topic for me to discuss because I am mere weeks away from my 65th birthday; so there is no danger of me ever doing any of them. There is no time left to train or apply for any of these jobs, before I hit retirement age. So who would hire me, even if I was any good at it?
My first choice would be to become a barrister. I like the idea of fighting for people and the cut-and-thrust of legal argument. It always looks dramatic on TV, and I love the whole concept of producing the twist that reveals the baddie or saves the day. In reality, it is probably more tedious and run-of-the-mill than the average courtroom drama depicts.
Besides, I suspect I would be less dashing and save the day with a knowing stare and flourish of a closing argument, and more a crumpled, late, can’t find the file Rumpole of the Bailey type. So maybe that has always been more of a daydream.
I would seriously have liked to be a therapist. To be able to help people unravel hurt and walk alongside them seems a good use of anyone’s time. I imagine it takes years of training and a lot more patience than I have access to.
It seems inappropriate to tell people to pull themselves together or to try not to whine so much. Maybe you learn the professional version of those statements and manage your frustration and boredom better than I have ever been able to.
If a meeting runs longer than an hour and is presented by someone with a voice that drones, I am in danger of taking a nap. Perhaps there is a bit of a gap between my interest and my ability to actually be a therapist.
The thing I think is more realistic and possible is to own my own café. We have a small chain of cafés in our local area that are close to perfection. They are just about to open their seventh edition. They started with a small one in a station and have them in parks, stations, and high streets.
I love cafés, the vibe, the food, the constant coffee, the music, the sense of community. The little chain that I admire has it all, and I have watched them develop over the years and like the effortless chill they bring to each place.
I would add one thing to my rendition, and that is that in each venue, I would train and develop three people who would gradually be awarded on a sliding scale a part profit share in half of each venue. There has never been a better model for a business than the people who work there having a stake in it. It lends itself to training each other and creates a sense of family and security.
I just need to find amazing bakers and cheerful staff and great locations. Oh, and some finance. I mean, how hard can it be?
Whats your all time favourite album?
Songs In The Key Of Life
Stevie Wonder
It was released in September 1976, and I was 15 years and eleven months old, and I owned it on the day of release. I had saved up money, waited impatiently, the release had been delayed while he remixed and fiddled.
It was a double album, gatefold sleeve, and a huge booklet, included with it was an EP single with four extra songs. Because he just couldn’t stop writing.
Songs In The Key Of Life
Stevie Wonder
It was released in September 1976, and I was 15 years and eleven months old, and I owned it on the day of release. I had saved up money, waited impatiently, the release had been delayed while he remixed and fiddled.
It was a double album, gatefold sleeve, and a huge booklet, included with it was an EP single with four extra songs. Because he just couldn’t stop writing.
This album would go on to sell over 5 million copies in the USA and be ranked 4th in the Rolling Stones top 500 albums of all time. On its release, it spent 13 consecutive weeks at No.1 on the Billboard chart. Stevie Wonder was 26 when it was released. 26!
Over the years, I have owned it in multiple formats, replaced worn-out, damaged, and lost copies. I’m pretty sure I have purchased it at least nine times. I never travel without it, and if I were to die in a car crash, I hope one of its tracks would still be playing in the background when they found my lifeless body.
Knowing my luck, it will be something very uncool, and it will be what I am remembered for. — And as they pulled him from the wreckage, I swear to God he had been playing Abba, yes, of course, Dancing Queen, what else?
The album has been cited as an influence by a long list of artists, and it has been sampled to death. Coolio ~ Gangsta’s Paradise, the riff is from this album. The songs have been covered by all and sundry.
My wife might not realise it, but Knocks Me Off My Feet is one of our songs. To be fair, we have about 92 songs, so it can be hard for her to keep up.
I am playing it now as I write, and 49 years later, I know every single lyric. I don’t remember a single thing from any geography lesson I have been in, but this I can do.
I have played it on planes and trains, in cars, in bed, and in hospital. I have listened to it in America, 600 miles from the North Pole. In India by a pool. In Denmark on a long train journey.
The entire thing lasts one hour and forty-five minutes, so it is a good choice for a long journey or an M25 traffic jam. I usually keep it for when I am driving on my own because I will be doing it all. To the whole thing. It is one of those things that shouldn’t really be talked about so it can cause friction.
Favourite tracks are I Wish, Knocks Me Off My Feet, If It’s Magic, Joy Inside My Tears.
If Stevie goes before me, I will play it in its entirety and thank God for the awesome talent that is Stevie Wonder and the artistry and creativity that gave me this album so early that it could travel with me throughout my life.
Don’t worry if you don’t get around to listening to it I am pretty sure it will be on heavy rotation in heaven. Especially the track Have A Talk With God.
What skill would you like to learn?
The art of diplomacy, patience, and the ability to stay calm in the face of frustration, would be good skills to acquire. I am sure if i was a more noble person my first inclination would be to want those skills.
In reality my heart yearns to be able to play the piano, or speak fluent French, or be the kind of man who dare not take his shirt of in public for fear of making people gasp. At how amazing my body is — not in horror.
I have done some things in my time that have made me think that i would like to do this properly. This feels like a thing i would enjoy. I once did a few days fencing lessons, an elegant sport that made me feel as if i might be able to do this. I felt as if i understood it and that with practise i would be able to do it.
As a rule sports do not connect with me, i don’t see the point or it all seems a lot of effort for very little reward. I subscribe to my grandfathers view, if those 22 men all want a football so badly — give them one each. I do not have some secret desire to hold aloft the World Cup or an Olympic Gold. I can hardly be bothered to watch a full match of anything let alone participate.
I have a hankering to take singing lessons. i can sing and have done it a bit. I am aware that with training and practise it could be better and it would be interesting to discover what this instrument can do. My problem has always been that the moment i hear someone good i think ‘now that is a voice’, and it is better to leave it to people like that.
Sometimes it is time or money that stops you pursuing things. I once had a helicopter flying lesson as a birthday treat and i did some of it and i took control and flew it and then realised that we were not going to achieve very much in one lesson.
The cost of actually obtaining a helicopter pilot licence and the very genuine belief that i would never be given a helicopter for a Christmas present no matter how good i had been, made it all a bit pointless.
I asked the pilot to use the lesson to show me what he could do, so we did the whole skimming hedges and cutting the engine and other little thrills, because i figured that was a more exciting and interesting use of our time and we both had fun.
All the things i can do that i would describe as skills are things i have learnt over many years. I spent a large chunk of my life acting, presenting and hosting because it was what i did and you kind of learn on the job by watching, listening and doing.
I know about computers because i once landed a job (more of a right place, right time than any kind of plan) and along the way i learnt by watching, listening and doing.
I know about gardening because the house we own had a garden so we had to learn how to look after a lawn, how to not kill plants, how to plant a hedge, how to build a greenhouse. Once you have done things wrong you work how to do them better next time.
I can drive a car because once you can, you do and the more you do the better you get at it.
Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers examines the theory that to acheive mastery of a skill, or to become a world class expert, takes ten thousand hours, or roughly ten years of practise. I think that also assumes that you are any good at it in the first place.
maybe that is why as we get old older it becomes more difficult to teach the old dog new tricks, we know it takes time, time runs out almost as fast as inclination.
a blog less ordinary 