Snowdrops bring people together to do wonderful things

This is my first blog for a long long time, but I feel that it is time to spread some love.

Today myself, Debbie and Steven were fortunate enough to be invited to an event that showed the beauty of humanity.  The Snowdrop Appeal for Scarborough Hospital's Post Launch Afternoon in Helmsley.

The story behind the Snowdrop Appeal is that sadly some families go into the maternity unit with hopes and sadly leave with nothing because their child has been born sleeping.  So an appeal was started to raise £120,000 to build a special suite for families that have had an incredibly tragic and traumatic experience.

Our fundraising group Wonkey McDonky Fundraising raised just under £1,000 for the appeal through a book stall, bucket collections at the Scarborough Open Air Theatre and one of our biggest fundraisers, the "Iron(ing) Man Challenge".  This was a 12 hour male only ironing event in the entrance of the hospital on the hottest day of the year in 2014 in the smallest room of the building.  Four brave people including The Scarborough Genie all got together to iron the biggest pile of laundry ever seen by the human race. 

The Scarborough Genie suffered from skin poisoning after 10 hours of wearing his make-up and started speaking in tongues and it made the last two hours incredibly scary for the other three members of the team doing the event!!

The reason why we got involved in the event was a personal one for myself, Debbie and Steven.

On the 22nd May 1996, whilst the country was holding their heads in their hands as England got knocked out of the European Football thingy, Debbie fell ill as a 36 week pregnant mother to be.  After calling a doctor who gave us some shady advice she managed to survive the night.  However, two nights later Debbie fell ill again and we called the on-call doctor again.  Thankfully, the doctor on call Dr Garnett was incredibly concerned by the situation that we found Debbie in and rushed her into hospital.  We didn't know why at the time, maybe when she went into A&E and they tried to put a needle into her hand that she wouldn't stop bleeding.

Anyway, Debbie was admitted over the weekend, which was a bank holiday, and the hottest weekend I've ever known (I would like to add that we had my cousin and my best mate lodging with us at the time so we had to juggle 'manly' things and me being a concerned husband all at once).

On the Tuesday I received a call from Debbie saying that they were going to induce labour overnight.  This was amazing news as I knew I was going to become a father the following day.

I was awoken at 5:30am by Debbie calling me to tell me that nothing had happened yet, but I should get my arse into gear and get to the hospital as soon as possible.  However, I had to get my packed lunch made, get into town and get the TENS machine and get into work and fill in my holiday paperwork (this was before paternity breaks people).

I got to the hospital at 10:30am and was greeted by what can only be described as the girl from The Exorcist as I walked into the maternity suite.  "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" I was gently asked.  I explained that since 5:30am I hadn't stopped and got everything that was required for the day.

So after several examinations Deb was moved into the birthing suite (we wanted a water birth, but for a reason unknown to us at the time this was not feasible).  There was three hours of screaming and pushing (this was mainly from me as my wrist was twisted around a stirrup post on the bed) and finally at 4:25pm we brought our lovely son Steven into the world.

It was only after the birth did we find out how seriously ill Debbie actually was.   She had an incredibly rare condition called HELLPS syndrome.  This is where the placenta and the liver start an epic battle against each other and this often ends with tragedy on the part of both the mother and child in birth. 

We were incredibly lucky that we walked away as a family unit.  Sadly however, another mother that very same week had also come in with HELLPS syndrome and had lost her child.  This syndrome had not been seen since the mid 70s in Scarborough Hospital and yet there were two cases in one week.

I could not begin to comprehend how it would have been to walk away from the hospital not only without our new born child, but also potentially without my wife.  Becoming a widower at 23 years old was just not worth thinking about.

I had, I will admit, hit a defensive mode and had thought "at least the mortgage will be paid off" and kind of hit the skids.

However, that aside with the generosity of the wonderful people who have done walks, bike rides, coffee mornings, bungee jumps et al for the cause raised the money needed to bring this wonderful suite to the hospital.

I feel that a massive shout out should be given to Annika Dowson who through her dedication to the cause through the sad passing of her daughter Gypsy took it upon herself to dedicate so much of her life to raise funds for the appeal.  Herself and her lovely husband James were given the "Points of Light" award by David Cameron for her hard work.  We duly doff our cap in your general direction x

I just hope that the suite never has to be used but sadly I feel that it will be and for everyone who has to use it I will shed a tear xx

Grammy Awards 2014 - **SPOILER --- DAFT PUNK UNMASKED**

So That Was The Grammys Then??

This was the first year I have taken an interest in the annual celebration of American celebrations in music.  It was more curiosity than anything.  This stemmed from Pharrell Williams' hat more than anything.

Over in the UK we were only given the 'highlights' of the awards.  For those who did not see it I shall give you a brief run down now:

1) Beyonce and Jay-Z sung together
2) Jay-Z got an award from Jamie Foxx who gave the most toe-curling introduction ever about how he had been ogling Beyonce backstage.  This man won a much deserved OSCAR for his portrail of Ray Charles, yet I felt he only won the shaking of heads from his peers for this abomination of a speech - thankfully upon receiving his award Jay-Z was the better man and didn't punch Jamie's face round the back of his head.
3) Daft Punk got Pharrell Williams, Stevie Wonder, Nile Rogers and a guy who looked like Shaun Wallace from the Chase together.  A great performance, but I was once again distracted by the hat!!  The artists interpretation above is how I perceived the event and is no way meant to be racist or upsetting in any way, that's just how my mind sees things!
4) Pink appeared to mime while doing some pretty mad arial acrobatics.
5) Daft Punk won an award* (Pharrell spoke on the 'robots' behalf).
6) Macklemore sung a song which lead onto a mass wedding but was ruined by ...
7) Madonna murdering "Open Your Heart".  Our cats ran for cover during this awful couple of minutes.  Her face was too smooth and she appeared to be walking with a cane (maybe that was for theatrical effect, I for one think that like Goldie Hawn in "Death Becomes Her" she was actually falling to bits beneath her 'perfect' exterior).
8) Metallica and Lang Lang performed "One".  Piano and Metal meet at last and it wasn't worth waiting for.
9) Nine Inch Nails and Queens of the Stone Age came together to play a couple of tracks but were cut off in their prime by the closing credits and adverts of proud sponsors.  I can feel a lawsuit coming up here!!

*So I can reveal what I suspected for a while.  The artists known as Daft Punk have always readily given their names but their facial identity has been a closely guarded secret with the helmets they have worn over their career.  If you were able to tap into the audio on show as I did, you would have got a shock.  The 'robots' upon hearing they had won Album Of The Year got up and hugged each other (#robothug trended for a while on that twittery thing).  However, their visors were linked into a complex sound loop and it could be clearly heard that one said to the other "To Me" followed by the mating call response "To You".  Thus proving that Daft Punk aren't Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter, but Paul and Barry Elliott aka The Chuckle Brothers.

Thus ending this rather boring blog.  Sorry to have taken your time!!

Confessions of a Recovering Festivaholic

*SIGH* It's that time of year again.

Yay!  Christmas is coming!  I used to loved Christmas.  The decorations, the presents, the over-indulgence.  Sadly, I have now clicked over into the scary realms of Dickensian tight-wads.  I keep pleading with the three ghosts (four if you include Marley) to come and have a go if they think they're hard enough, but I think even my reputation for having an 'anger management issue' has kept them from knocking on my door on the eve of this holiest of Christian festivals.

I am accused by my family that I'm becoming The Grinch.  If truth be told, I agree totally!  But I would like to justify my Grinchiness by saying that as a loyal and hard working member of the delivery community that the FOUR MONTHS (yes, four months) up to the magical 10 minutes that Christmas is exciting is officially the worst time for us delivery folk.

The worst thing is, that this magical entity is taking all the credit for our hard work.  I'm the only jolly, tubby red faced guy who should be getting credit for this ... but alas, I'm not.  This guy and his crazy reindeer are getting all the praise!

Anyway, I'm not going to rattle on about my problems with Christmas, there are other fish to fry here!

Christmas Music (or "Why do the radio stations only play the same five Christmas tunes over and over and over and over again?)

I don't like Bruce Springsteen, I never have and I never will.  The only tune of his I liked was "Streets of Philadelphia".  But this horrendous noise they inflict on us every year with "Sanna Claus is Comin' Ta Town" is just the right weight to push me over the edge.  I never get festive chills listening to it ... ever!
Imagine if he had brought out a Christmas Album (he might have, but I have no interest in the guy).  Imagine the advert ... "Bruce Springsteen shouts his favourite Festive treats to make ears bleed all over the globe.  Frosty the Snowman is hiding behind the Little Drummer Boy in fear for his life.  Bruce destroys every sentiment within the hallowed 'Silent Night' as he walks through the streets of Bethlehem waking everyone from the Inn Keeper to the Lowing Cattle."
Nothing could make my stomach turn that having to listen to detritus like that!

So where can the radio stations improve?  I am sick of hearing the usual fare of Christmas tat that they throw at us day in day out.  Wizzard, Slade, Band Aid and Shakin' Stevens should be retired off in my opinion.  I feel sorry for Noddy, Roy et al as their bank balances would quickly deplete with the lack of festive goodness being thrust into them but COME ON PEOPLE!  There are songs that are overlooked.  Check out Thea Gilmore, Steeleye Span, The Lancashire Hotpots, HotPantz and even Avid Merrion.  Much better songs to play!  Why do they insist on the same stuff when there are more wonderful tunes to play?
I love to hear the local groups with Santa doing the very worthy collections around the street playing "Do They Know It's Christmas?" over their speakers.  There seems some delicious irony in there somewhere!

Speaking of "Do They Know It's Christmas?", I can tell you why Midge Ure has never received his Knighthood - factual inaccuracies in his lyrics to this song!  Are you sitting comfortably?  Then I shall begin:

1) "There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas" - erm, what about those big snowy mountains?
2) "The Greatest Gift They'll Get this year is life" - erm, the most deprived parts of Africa are predominantly Muslim, therefore they do not celebrate Christmas.

Midge - I love your work, but you dropped the ball here.  To top it off, it has been re-released in various guises since its inception in the mid-80s and they haven't ironed out these mistakes.  If George Lucas or James Cameron had written it, it would have been polished and corrected by now, or if they had any sense they would have taken it round the back and put it out of it's misery!

PLEASE UNDERSTAND I am not in anyway disrespecting the work and the money raised from the song, over the years the money raised has helped to bring vital supplies to the most needy, I just think that it would be a good idea to do a follow-up with say a different tune and maybe some different lyrics for instance.

One of my favourite Christmas tunes is by the very naughty Gary Glitter.  He won't get played on the radio anymore.  This is tragic, as this song typifies Christmas to me.  Christmas, dancing and having a jolly good time (but without any alleged illegal activity Mr Glitter!).  As you can see from the picture above I purchased this song as it is no longer available on any Christmas CDs anywhere.  I was incredibly surprised to see that even iTunes was questioning my choice and decision to buy this seminal classic by asking me "Are you sure you want to buy and download 'Another Rock and Roll Christmas' Single?" - what you don't see is that when I pressed the "Buy" button another window came up simply saying "REALLY??", when I clicked "Yes" it came up with another window "This is 79p you are going to spend on this ... Think Carefully".  So I clicked on "Yes I do want to buy this" and it started downloading, but I sensed that somewhere a computer came to life in a government building and starting to snoop around my computer to see if there was anything suspicious on it.  Imagine their surprise when all they found was pictures of cats and a massive folder full of fundraising ideas and event photos!  Take that M.I.B.!!

So now you have been subjected to another one of my vents I will bow out.  If you have got this far then I congratulate you, if you got about three sentences through and gave up then I also congratulate you (though you won't actually see me congratulating you) for not allowing me to ruin your special time of year.

All that is left is for me to wish you all a very prosperous Christmas and a Happy New Year.  If you are not of the Christian Faith then I wish you Happy Holidays.  If you do not celebrate anything at this time of year then please send me your address and I will be round with box-sets of Blackadder and Green Wing so we can let this whole season pass us by!

Music is my first love and it will be my last (but don't tell the missus)

Tonight I intend on setting the record straight on what is wrong with the world.

I am a massive music fan and I will be blogging about this relentlessly for a while.  I have been looking to find a starting point for my blogging on music (I will explain more about this as my blogs get more boring and more trivia based) but I had an epiphany on Saturday night and thus the lecture begins!

Billy Joel should be the new Shakespeare

Billy Joel, yesterday

So, when I was growing up with parents that were significantly older than the other children's in my school I was much like the teenagers in Footloose.  Music was the demon.  Unless you were Frank Ifield or George Shearing then you were not permitted on the rotating needley thingy at the top of our stereo system.  I was brought up on the kind of mush that would make the meek want to become a beserker and cause havoc on the placid streets outside a nunnery.

My mother, God rest her soul, would go down on a Friday and purchase a single for my delectation.  This would usually be something like "There's no-one quite like Grandma" by the St Winifred's Choir or "Teddy Bear" by Red Sovine.  When I came home from school, fresh from the toil of a week of learning I would throw off my satchel (seriously, and this was 1982 guys) and just want to chill.  I would be confronted by this new rotating plastic demon that I would have to listen to and sit with a gooky smile on my face saying things like "aw, this is lovely" to.  But it was always coincidental that we would have visitors when I got home from school.  It felt like an early example of RADA for me.  I would have to 'perform' in front of a crowd.  **sigh**

So in 1985 I begged Santa to give me a ghetto blaster as my main present.  It was a beauty, it had two tape decks and could pick up FM and not just LW and MW!  My most cherished possession! I started listening to Radio York because on a Sunday lunchtime Chrissy Glazebrook (also sadly no longer with us) would play music that you wouldn't normally hear on her request show.  I was gathering an arsenal of music that would blow my mind.  However, I would have to wait for Santa to appear the following year to bring me a Walkman (or the Samsung equivalent) so I could go mobile with this new found love of my life.

In the front room my parents spent a ridiculous amount of money on a stacking stereo system.  Atop was a shiny record player.  This was just the most glorious thing I had ever seen.  I went into the town library and saw they had a collection of records that you could borrow for a week for a small charge and this meant that I could expand my collection through illegally downloading music from vinyl to tape to listen to on my ghetto blaster in my bedroom.

I went from Frank Ifield to Paul McCartney through The Police through Floyd through P.I.L. through the greatest find .... Billy Joel.  This man was a genius.  He used to be a boxer and now he had discovered the piano and lyrics.

Through this magical system with vinyl to tape and from that tape to tape I was able to spread the gospel according to Billy to all my friends in school.  The guy spoke to us all.  He made us laugh, cry and occasionally balk at his lyrics.

His words and songs were never aggressive.  He was a bit controversial with his songs about Vietnam and about the steel towns shutting down (but we didn't really understand those and usually fast-forwarded through them ones to be honest).  He shone a light on a generation.

**At this point I will dip back to the beginning of this blog.  On Saturday night we got the dreaded karaoke machine out and the Billy Joel disk came out.  I was so impressed that my son got up and knew all the lyrics to all the songs that came on ... bear with me - the punchline to this blog will be revealed soon, but this is one of the important parts of it**

I moved on through my musical life lapping up everything that was on offer.  Admittedly, I'm a bit lax nowadays with the modern music (which I promised my younger self that I never would) but I think you have to admit that certain genres do pass you by.  I have a collection of music on my iTunes library that goes from Opera to Thrash metal.  I think I'm pretty open minded - but some of this new stuff leaves me behind.

When I look back on the halcyon days of delivering the papers with Billy Joel "saying goodbye to Hollywood" and "telling her about it" I do it with a warm glow inside.  It was an innocent time.  I know that there were those crazy punk types wishing the monarchy were departed or that nuclear holocaust were upon us, but that wasn't for us youngsters - I wished that more of my school chums embraced the more innocent music before they left school.

This is my point!  However trite listening to someone whistling and yodeling on a song is classed as it's pure innocence.  That in my thoughts is what music should be about.  Yes, there are songs that put a point across and I applaud these guys for doing it.  Take your Billy Braggs, Chumbawambas (before they sold out) and Levellers (likewise).  They are all trying to get a statement across.  This should be applauded (Morrissey is an exception - he is a cock-end).  But come on guys.  Let's embrace The Brotherhood of Man and Goombay Dance Band.  They are all making music, albeit cheesy, to make us smile and bring us together.

Nowadays, the young are brought up with music that glorify violence.  The people who are writing, singing and promoting this stuff are bringing the world in to chaos and disorder.  It seems that singing a song that is telling you to 'pop a cap in yo bitches ass' is acceptable.  IT IS NOT!  Let's just take a step back and as Shakespeare said "If music be the food of love, play on".  Nowadays (disregarding the marketed mass manufactured crap that comes out of Cowell's ass) it seems that unless you are singing or creating music to shock and infuriate then it isn't mainstream.  Well I for one am glad that I listen to independent radio to hear the songs that those on the front line don't hear.  I would rather be in a "Place Called You" than have "99 problems" (cliche I know, but it's late and I'm not down with the 'kids').

Thus ends tonight's lecture.  I will be pawing over the music world again and again in a vain attempt to get me off the world of marketing and advertising (grr) as it is something I'm rather passionate about (but don't tell the missus ... please)

Hungry for more?? - Am I really that angry?

It was brought to my attention just yesterday that I seem to have a bit of an anger issue.  This kind of blind-sided me a little bit, but then I put a little thought into it and I realise that I have.  However, this is my private persona and not my public one.

Let us be straight, it was not always that way, I have been known to lose my rag in public and still do to a certain extent, but this is purely in a sarcastic manner at the great unwashed who insist on grinding my gears!

It would appear I am back seat road rager when we are pootling around in our work van.  Thankfully I am at least aware that my window is open and mutter my grumbles under my breath so that my company is not damaged in any way.

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So my first grumble of the night concerns my old adversary ... the Marketing people of the world!  I was left home alone as Deb and Steve were out working and had been left a Morrisons own lasagne.  The picture above does not show the meal obviously, but it does prove my point.

What you cannot see in this picture is the phrase "Serving Suggestion".  Not wanting to be funny, but who the hell did they pay for this photo and 'serving suggestion'?  It's a bloody lasagne on a bloody plate.  There isn't even a sprig of parsley on top, no garlic bread, no chips - no nothing.  Come on people - you are paid far too much money for this.  AND .... AND, have you ever successfully got a lasagne out of one of those plastic trays and it actually look like the photo?  For crying out loud Roger, it's ridiculous!  Maybe that's the suggestion ... "get the lasagne out and look like this, you pleb" should maybe replacing "Serving Suggestion" on the box!  ARGGHHHHHH!!!

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My second grumble concerns this man, Liam Dutton.

Before I start and probably get sued for defamation of character by Mr Dutton I would like to point out that this event occurred nearly three years ago and since then he has moved to Channel 4 news his forecasting has improved somewhat!

Picture the scene, I am sat 'nomming' on my corn flakes while watching BBC Breakfast one Saturday morning when Liam Dutton comes on.  He is all jovial and brightens up my day with his optimistic forecast for the day where he shows Scarborough with glorious weather.  I thinks to myself 'hurrah, shorts and polo shirt is the order of the day'.

I go to work and load up for my delivery and as soon as I'm dropped off at the first house with my pushbike and bag, the heavens opened.  I don't mean rain, I mean a monsoon of biblical proportions.  Not only that, but it lasted the whole four hours I was out delivering.  To use the words 'drowned rat' would be the biggest understatement ever.  I was damp in places I didn't think I could ever get damp!

When I got home my family gave me the usual amount of sympathy that I usually get (this includes the statutory rolling on the floor laughing and pointing in amusement).

I was not on this Twittery thing at the time but Steve was and he told me that he had found Liam Dutton on there.  So through him I sent a tweet asking him to apologise to all postmen/women in the YO11 district of Scarborough for getting the weather wrong.

Liam, bless his heart, actually replied to Steve's tweet but it was not a response I was expecting.  He simply replied "I have checked my weather stations in the YO11 area and none of them detected any rain".  I was gobsmacked.  The bloke even got the weather wrong AFTER it had happened.

From that moment on myself and Mr Dutton became sworn enemies (even though Liam had never ever heard of me - I'm sure his ears were burning).

However, as mentioned earlier, watching Channel 4 news a couple of months ago he got the weather spot on - is this a conspiracy forming that the BBC are feeding us misinformation? or is it just that he has actually learned his craft properly now??

Monday this week Carol Kirkwood on BBC Breakfast told us that at 2pm there would be a downpour in the Scarborough area and I kid you not, my phone beeped the arrived of 2pm and the heavens opened on the dot!  I was drenched, but I was pleased to have been forewarned about it (even though I didn't have any weatherproof gear on - I suspect that was an echo from that time when Liam Dutton misinformed me about the weather ... Did I ever mention that?

That ends my grumble tonight.  I'm going off now to get some anger management and find something else to moan about!

A time of reflection ... One year on from the loss of a loved one

Dave Landray

2/2/60 - 31/7/12

It is the eve of the passing of my brother Dave.  A time of reflection.

I am not going to be maudlin or depressing in this post.  Alas, I wish this to be a celebration of his life.  I apologise in advance if I cause offense by this blog but I feel it is always best to reflect the fun times and not the bad!

Dave, like many people who revolve(d) in my circle has been the butt of some of my wind-ups caused by a particularly pesky Dark Passenger* that I carry around with me.  I just can't help myself sometimes - this is just who I am.  Most times it is funny, it has been known to be occassionally cruel and for that I apologise profusely that I have done this to.  I keep chipping away at a book I'm writing about my Dark Passenger* and that one day Karma is going to well and truly kick my arse!

Anyway, I shall begin:

One Sunday night myself and my lovely wife were fighting going to bed as that would mean the end of the weekend.  I was having a responsibly enjoyed glass of wine while watching Dexter* (* the asterix I should point out is a bit of a pun as the two are connected - Thank you Jeff Lindsay for that).
All of a sudden from out of nowhere my phone boings to let me know of an incoming SMS.  I giggle excitedly as it means that someone out there really likes me.  I check the phone and it is our Dave.  He is at a pub quiz and needs to know the real name of Tiger Woods.  Quick as a flash I reply with "Ramsay Tupper".

I was chortling away to myself as he replied "Thank you.  I'm going to win this".  In retrospect I should have told him it was Eldrick Tont Woods, but that pesky Dark Passenger* had made an appearance.

I left it for a couple of minutes then the angel on my left shoulder sent a shudder of panic down my spine that maybe I should come clean before he makes a fool out of himself.  I decided then to text him back saying "Don't give that answer!  Read it out loud to yourself first!".  To which after ten minutes that felt like three weeks with the sweat like frost on my brow I get a reply simply saying "TWAT!".

I was told at a later date that when he read the answer out (coincidently at exactly the same time I had sent him the warning text) the whole pub collapsed with laughter.  I did explain in my follow up text that I didn't condone the use of mobile phones at pub quizzes as I had been wrongly accused of cheating at a quiz one night for knowing 20 Beatles tracks - pffft, the quiz master obviously didn't know that I am the music god!

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Our Dave's birthday was 2nd February which to those who are into world calendars will know is Groundhog Day.  For his birthday treat he called Yorkshire Coast Radio (our local 'independent' station) and told Barry Robinson (erm, Legend ... much like Danny Wilde!) to play "I got you babe" by Sonny and Cher to celebrate the big day.  Sadly, Barry didn't play this song, he played "Lazy Sunday Afternoons" by The Faces ... This is funny on two levels, firstly our Dave was never lucky, but secondly it was announced "It's Groundhog Day and this goes out to Dave who's celebrating his birthday" to which the song started with the line "Wouldn't it be nice to get on with mi neighbours".  He told me that not only did his heart sink because he didn't play the song he requested, but the first line of the song made it sound like he hated everyone who lived around him.  He spent the next two days behind his front curtains occassionally checking to see if they were outside with a burning cross or a big bag of dog shit and a match!

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I really looked up to Dave, he was a fantastic brother, whom I miss on a daily basis and wish that for just one day he could come back and I could give him a hug and talk the codshit that we used to spout to each other.

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Let us get it right, he was not always the victim in our get togethers!  Not only was his flatulence legendary - he could physically hover above his seat when we were gathered around playing Trivial Pursuit on a night.  In fact, one night I timed a 32 second fart that towards the end sounded dangerous - even the look on Dave's face showed that even he wasn't particularly happy with the way this one was going.  Thankfully no mud was drawn!

Upon announcing to my other brother Tony that myself and Debbie were expecting a baby, Tony embraced this news as a loving family member should - he even offered me a glass of wine at 9:30 in the morning - which was a bit early, even for me!  HOWEVER, when I went to see Dave and tell him our fabulous news he just looked at me with glazed over, wide eyes and snorted saying "Ha! Financial Deprivation starts here bro!"  I suppose I expected nothing less!

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In the last couple of years of his life Dave found peace with religion.  I am not a religious person and for that I may or may not go to hell!  But I never knock people's belief system.  I envy them to be honest, they have a light at the end of the tunnel - I just have an unbiased view that something may or may not happen when I my light is extinguished from this world!

The people from the church were with him all the way at the end.  Pastor Paul from the church gave a fantastic service at the funeral.  It was quite surreal as his sermon was done on an iPad - there was no pulpit or musty smelling books in sight!

The best part of the funeral was that it was a bright colour funeral.  The family had decided that this was a celebration of life not a mourning.  I had to dust down my comedy character ties from within the dark and dim closet (they were just left of Mr Tumnus's house!).

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When someone from your own family dies it is heartbreaking.  When you lose a sibling that is harder as it makes you realise that you aren't immortal.  If anything has come from the passing of our Dave is to live life to the best of your abilities and finance.  I have thrown myself into my family, friends, work, and my fundraising.  I can rest my head on a night and know that I'm on the right side of the line even though I have my Dark Passenger* to contend with!

I miss you with all my heart Dave and tomorrow I shall be belting out to some Steeleye Span with the amp set to 11!  Love ya bro xx

****As a comical postscript to this, as I was proof reading this, "Spirit in the Sky" by Dr and the Medics came on!  This was played at his wake - which I thought was disrespectful until I found out it was a CD from his 'favourites' folder on his iTunes collection - Fantastic ... Love it Dave****

Caveat Emptor - Those pesky marketing guys are after your cash AGAIN!

Grrrr!  Marketing people need to be strung up by their curly bits!!

There I was on Tuesday just whiling away the gentle warmth of the afternoon when along comes the advert for "Eddie Stobart's Trucking Anthems".  They struggled with "The Perfect Gift For ..." bit because there doesn't seem to be any Hallmark moments around at the moment - July is a quiet time for the card manufacturers ... However, they could have used the 'end of school' thing and said "The Perfect Gift for Your Teacher" or something trite like that!

The track listing is EXACTLY the same as "Top Gear Anthems".  ZZ Top, Status Quo, Thin Lizzy et al.  Grrr!  PEOPLE - DON'T BE FOOLED.  LOOK AT YOUR iTUNES LIBRARY AND SEE THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE THESE SONGS MULTIPLE TIMES!!!!

Then, as I settled down with my small glass of port to enjoy The One Show's "Best of British" I find that the schedule had been hijacked by the birth of our new king (congrats to Kate and Will - please don't think I'm lining myself up for treason here, please sir!).

Every channel was doing the 'rolling' news thing stood outside doors saying things like "We don't know anything yet".  Sigh!  I'm paying a lot of money for this.  I resorted to putting UK GOLD on to watch the birth of Prince Harry (sic).

So now we all stand there with bated breath waiting for the tsunami of royal baby crap to roll onto the shelves of Shell garages everywhere.  I think they should reuse all of those collector's plates left over from the Royal Wedding two years ago.  At the end of the day, it's worked for Eddie Stobart/Top Gear (The StoGear Complex as it shall now be known).

After all, as my final point, we do have to recycle - but there has to be a fine line that MUST NOT be crossed.  I fear that this line is about to be kicked to death by the suits in offices all around Soho!  Sigh!