Fall seven times, stand up eight.
- Japanese proverb
Well, hello again.
I had my first blogging disaster yesterday. I was getting to the end of a new blog when the computer did that awful thing where nothing works and it tells you that the programme is not responding. It then teases you by suggesting that waiting for it to respond is really an option, shortly before everything closes down and you realise why there is a Save Now button on the blog creator.
So my loving creation disappeared into the ether and my enthusiasm for writing it all out again is non-existent. You didn't miss much, honest. I was struggling for a meaningful ending when it all went Pete Tong. I doubt that there is one.
The blog was in response to a visit I made on Easter Monday to the 47th Annual York Model Railway Exhibition. The gist of my thread was that all men are boys at heart and in praise of the layouts on display. These were not just boys toys, but genuine works of art requiring immense skill and dedication. A picture paints a thousand words so I'll stick a couple of thousand words on here so you too can share my wonder and amazement. Put your anorak on before you look at them.
On then to Roger McGough. In case you don't know, Roger is a Liverpool poet and in the late 60's he was part of a group called The Scaffold. I'm not into poetry in a big way but I must admit that Roger is hero of mine as I admire his use of words and they way he eschews many of the 'rules' of poetry and does his own thing. He's also very funny and appears to me to be an all round decent chap. If you want to get a flavour of Roger's poetry then I recommend Let Me Die a Youngman's Death - a fantastic, lyrical mix of humour and poignancy.
I have actually met him twice. Well, when I say 'met' I mean that I have seen him live twice and then queued up at the end to get him to sign a book. Isn't it awful actually meeting someone you admire? On the first occasion I stuttered and stammered something unitelligible to him and then later wrote a poem about it (which I may post here as it's never going to be published anywhere else). On the second occasion I stuttered and stammered about how I'd written a poem about the first occasion. Thankfully, Roger didn't ask for a rendition.
According to his biography (Said and Done), Roger was born in 1937, which means that he will be 72 this year. And jolly good he looks on it too. But forgetting Roger's fine figure for a minute I want to focus on one part of his anatomy - his left ear. Or, to be precise, what is in Roger's left ear - a diamond studded ear-ring.
It is very common for men to wear ear-rings and if you can afford it then a diamond one is much better than a simple gold stud. But should there be age limits for such things? At one end of the scale I have seen very young children with ear-rings and felt a bit uneasy because this was clearly a parental choice, not their own. And at the other end of the scale should there be a cut-off point beyond which men are forced to remove any body piercings?
For me the answer is a very clear 'No'. In Roger's case I think the ear-ring reinforces his Bohemian image. It sets the tone for a man who doesn't accept rules blindly. So, should I get one?
The day I left school I began to grow a moustache. It was symbol of my new found freedom (I had begun growing one some months earlier, but the Head of Sixth Form told me to shave it off). And leaving work feels a lot like leaving school, so it seems appropriate that I should symbolise my new freedom in some way.
I suppose, I can try it and if I don't like it the little hole will soon grow over. However, the various tattoos I am also contemplating may prove to be a permanent mistake. Better make them discrete.
I have been musing over a tattoo for a while now. What has stopped me is how apalling I would look. I have put on more than a few pounds over the last few years and I can't see the point of going through the pain of getting a tattoo only to hide it away under loose fitting clothing.
But since the New Year I have steadily lost weight (currently 24 pounds) and I have discovered a hitherto hidden passion for jogging. Consequently I have regained a lot more confidence in my physique and the reward of my first tattoo looms ever closer.
Maybe I just need to lose another 7 pounds or so. Watch this space.
Live long and prosper.
- Japanese proverb
Well, hello again.
I had my first blogging disaster yesterday. I was getting to the end of a new blog when the computer did that awful thing where nothing works and it tells you that the programme is not responding. It then teases you by suggesting that waiting for it to respond is really an option, shortly before everything closes down and you realise why there is a Save Now button on the blog creator.
So my loving creation disappeared into the ether and my enthusiasm for writing it all out again is non-existent. You didn't miss much, honest. I was struggling for a meaningful ending when it all went Pete Tong. I doubt that there is one.
The blog was in response to a visit I made on Easter Monday to the 47th Annual York Model Railway Exhibition. The gist of my thread was that all men are boys at heart and in praise of the layouts on display. These were not just boys toys, but genuine works of art requiring immense skill and dedication. A picture paints a thousand words so I'll stick a couple of thousand words on here so you too can share my wonder and amazement. Put your anorak on before you look at them.
On then to Roger McGough. In case you don't know, Roger is a Liverpool poet and in the late 60's he was part of a group called The Scaffold. I'm not into poetry in a big way but I must admit that Roger is hero of mine as I admire his use of words and they way he eschews many of the 'rules' of poetry and does his own thing. He's also very funny and appears to me to be an all round decent chap. If you want to get a flavour of Roger's poetry then I recommend Let Me Die a Youngman's Death - a fantastic, lyrical mix of humour and poignancy.
I have actually met him twice. Well, when I say 'met' I mean that I have seen him live twice and then queued up at the end to get him to sign a book. Isn't it awful actually meeting someone you admire? On the first occasion I stuttered and stammered something unitelligible to him and then later wrote a poem about it (which I may post here as it's never going to be published anywhere else). On the second occasion I stuttered and stammered about how I'd written a poem about the first occasion. Thankfully, Roger didn't ask for a rendition.
According to his biography (Said and Done), Roger was born in 1937, which means that he will be 72 this year. And jolly good he looks on it too. But forgetting Roger's fine figure for a minute I want to focus on one part of his anatomy - his left ear. Or, to be precise, what is in Roger's left ear - a diamond studded ear-ring.
It is very common for men to wear ear-rings and if you can afford it then a diamond one is much better than a simple gold stud. But should there be age limits for such things? At one end of the scale I have seen very young children with ear-rings and felt a bit uneasy because this was clearly a parental choice, not their own. And at the other end of the scale should there be a cut-off point beyond which men are forced to remove any body piercings?
For me the answer is a very clear 'No'. In Roger's case I think the ear-ring reinforces his Bohemian image. It sets the tone for a man who doesn't accept rules blindly. So, should I get one?
The day I left school I began to grow a moustache. It was symbol of my new found freedom (I had begun growing one some months earlier, but the Head of Sixth Form told me to shave it off). And leaving work feels a lot like leaving school, so it seems appropriate that I should symbolise my new freedom in some way.
I suppose, I can try it and if I don't like it the little hole will soon grow over. However, the various tattoos I am also contemplating may prove to be a permanent mistake. Better make them discrete.
I have been musing over a tattoo for a while now. What has stopped me is how apalling I would look. I have put on more than a few pounds over the last few years and I can't see the point of going through the pain of getting a tattoo only to hide it away under loose fitting clothing.
But since the New Year I have steadily lost weight (currently 24 pounds) and I have discovered a hitherto hidden passion for jogging. Consequently I have regained a lot more confidence in my physique and the reward of my first tattoo looms ever closer.
Maybe I just need to lose another 7 pounds or so. Watch this space.
Live long and prosper.
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