The next line, "But then again, too few to mention".Yeah, I've had a few. If I am honest, I was a truly horrible person from the age of 14 to 24. Many of us are awful as teenagers, I don't hold that against anyone. I didn't murder anyone, but I was incredibly selfish and self centred. Perhaps the worst thing was that I got away with it. Why? I can only guess it was because I was quite a good laugh to be around. The only real focus in my life at the time was my band and the hedonism around it. I skillfully assembled (that's a lie!) an amazing team of people equally dedicated to such hedonism and we had an amazing craic.
When I was 21, it all caught up with me. My health took a massive hit, resulting in an extended spell in hospital, the repercussions of which still live with me. Worse still, I learned the hard way that if you are in a relationship with someone you like, you should be nice to them, or you lose them. It took another three years for the lesson to truly sink in. From 21 to 24, as I tried to get my health and my head back together, I started a journey. I started doing Yoga, which was brilliant. I owe a lot to Joyce who used to teach in Mill Hill and I think reset my direction in life. To me she was an 'old lady', but she had a calmness around her and was kind. After we exercised, she'd do a guided meditation. During one of these a very large penny dropped. I didn't suddenly stop being a complete twat, but I realised I had been one, which was the start of a very long journey. As we were leaving the class one day, Joyce grabbed me and said "Something seems to be troubling you". I was very defensive, I didn't like receiving unwanted advice. I repled "I'm fine". She said "Roger, you are not, what is up". I'd had a bad day at work. My then boss, who I got on with, had been replaced by a new guy. We didn't get on and he'd told me to find another job. I said "Oh, just work problems". She said "If it is making you unhappy, find something else. You don't need negativity in your life". The next day, I saw another job advertised, perfect for me and within a month I'd left. I sometimes have a problem letting go of things. I felt huge loyaty to the company and my ex boss, but the company had been taken over, he'd gone and I was unhappy. It seemed to me as if the stars had aligned for me. The new job, with a salary almost double, enabled me to buy a property. Life lesson one, if something isn't working, change it. From that moment, I made it a strict principle that jobs had to work for me, not the other way around. I alway worked hard, but I never stuck around if I was unhappy and it wasn't working.
That was an important life lesson, but the harshest one was delivered when I was 24. My Dad died unexpectedly, aged 69. Dad had smoked like a chimney for most of his adult life. He'd not taken care of himself. He seemed indestructable. God had other ideas. For me though, the biggest shock was to realise just how much I loved him, and that he was irreplaceable. I also had a degree of guilt for not making more effort to spend time with him. A couple of months before he died, we had what would now be called a 'boys night out'. A curry, snooker and a bottle of scotch until 3am in the front room. Big hangover the next day, but a cracking night. We'd agreed to do it more often. That was the last time I saw him alive. Life lesson #2. The people you really love won't be there forever, so make sure you appreciate them. It also made me reflect on why I'd not engaged more with my Dad. In truth, the main reason was his awful temper. I believe he suffered PTSD in WW2 and this was a manifestation of that. He could lose the plot, especially when we were young. I got well and truly clobbered a few times, as did my brothers. Times were different and it was socially acceptable. I don't have a problem with it, but it did put distance between us. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it was a big problem. He never clobbered the women in our house, but if we stepped out of line, we soon knew it. My trouble has always been that I speak my mind and hold my ground. This was not wise with Dad when he was losing the plot. When we had our night out, I pulled him on it. By now, I was 24 and bigger than him. His temper had to some degree abated, and I suspect that retirement and lack of stress did him good. He explained "Listen son, if you never get clobbered when are gobby, one day you'll walk into a pub in Glasgow, say the wrong thing and get a smack in the gob and you won't have a clue why. You know what happens if you pull a lions tail". It was very old school.
When I was thirty three, I learned I was going to be a father. I thought deeply about my relationship with my Dad. My regrets about the distance between us. I also realised I was carrying some of his anger and temper. I realised this caused distance. I decided to take positive action. I went to see an anger management counsellor. I thought this would mean I didn't lose the plot and would be Mr Calm at all times. I learned that I carry too much baggage. The counsellor teaches you to manage anger, not erase it. One of the unexpected benefits of the sessions was I learned I was dyslexic. Talking about my schooling, it became clear I had a learning difficulty. Once I realised this, many things fell into place. The sessions did not make me into a calm, placid person. What it did do was make me a better person, which is the best result. So life lesson #3 - try and become a better person, it is worth it.
When I was 21, it all caught up with me. My health took a massive hit, resulting in an extended spell in hospital, the repercussions of which still live with me. Worse still, I learned the hard way that if you are in a relationship with someone you like, you should be nice to them, or you lose them. It took another three years for the lesson to truly sink in. From 21 to 24, as I tried to get my health and my head back together, I started a journey. I started doing Yoga, which was brilliant. I owe a lot to Joyce who used to teach in Mill Hill and I think reset my direction in life. To me she was an 'old lady', but she had a calmness around her and was kind. After we exercised, she'd do a guided meditation. During one of these a very large penny dropped. I didn't suddenly stop being a complete twat, but I realised I had been one, which was the start of a very long journey. As we were leaving the class one day, Joyce grabbed me and said "Something seems to be troubling you". I was very defensive, I didn't like receiving unwanted advice. I repled "I'm fine". She said "Roger, you are not, what is up". I'd had a bad day at work. My then boss, who I got on with, had been replaced by a new guy. We didn't get on and he'd told me to find another job. I said "Oh, just work problems". She said "If it is making you unhappy, find something else. You don't need negativity in your life". The next day, I saw another job advertised, perfect for me and within a month I'd left. I sometimes have a problem letting go of things. I felt huge loyaty to the company and my ex boss, but the company had been taken over, he'd gone and I was unhappy. It seemed to me as if the stars had aligned for me. The new job, with a salary almost double, enabled me to buy a property. Life lesson one, if something isn't working, change it. From that moment, I made it a strict principle that jobs had to work for me, not the other way around. I alway worked hard, but I never stuck around if I was unhappy and it wasn't working.
That was an important life lesson, but the harshest one was delivered when I was 24. My Dad died unexpectedly, aged 69. Dad had smoked like a chimney for most of his adult life. He'd not taken care of himself. He seemed indestructable. God had other ideas. For me though, the biggest shock was to realise just how much I loved him, and that he was irreplaceable. I also had a degree of guilt for not making more effort to spend time with him. A couple of months before he died, we had what would now be called a 'boys night out'. A curry, snooker and a bottle of scotch until 3am in the front room. Big hangover the next day, but a cracking night. We'd agreed to do it more often. That was the last time I saw him alive. Life lesson #2. The people you really love won't be there forever, so make sure you appreciate them. It also made me reflect on why I'd not engaged more with my Dad. In truth, the main reason was his awful temper. I believe he suffered PTSD in WW2 and this was a manifestation of that. He could lose the plot, especially when we were young. I got well and truly clobbered a few times, as did my brothers. Times were different and it was socially acceptable. I don't have a problem with it, but it did put distance between us. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it was a big problem. He never clobbered the women in our house, but if we stepped out of line, we soon knew it. My trouble has always been that I speak my mind and hold my ground. This was not wise with Dad when he was losing the plot. When we had our night out, I pulled him on it. By now, I was 24 and bigger than him. His temper had to some degree abated, and I suspect that retirement and lack of stress did him good. He explained "Listen son, if you never get clobbered when are gobby, one day you'll walk into a pub in Glasgow, say the wrong thing and get a smack in the gob and you won't have a clue why. You know what happens if you pull a lions tail". It was very old school.
When I was thirty three, I learned I was going to be a father. I thought deeply about my relationship with my Dad. My regrets about the distance between us. I also realised I was carrying some of his anger and temper. I realised this caused distance. I decided to take positive action. I went to see an anger management counsellor. I thought this would mean I didn't lose the plot and would be Mr Calm at all times. I learned that I carry too much baggage. The counsellor teaches you to manage anger, not erase it. One of the unexpected benefits of the sessions was I learned I was dyslexic. Talking about my schooling, it became clear I had a learning difficulty. Once I realised this, many things fell into place. The sessions did not make me into a calm, placid person. What it did do was make me a better person, which is the best result. So life lesson #3 - try and become a better person, it is worth it.
Back in 2008, I was forty six. I wanted to promote local music, so I suggested to the editor of the Barnet Times a music column. To shut me up, he offered me a spot as a 'guest local blogger'. I'd hardly written anything in my life, apart from a few songs. I didn't even know what a blogger was. So I googled it. The advice. 1. Post regularly. 2. Be honest. 3. Be Interesting. 4. If something interests you, it will probably interest other people. To my surprise, the blog quickly became the most read item on the Times website (they used to have a display of most read stories on the front page). I posted every day. Then I upset the powers that be and got sacked. I was gutted. I set this blog up, expecting no interest. The Blogspot hit counter tells me I've had five million views. I had no real plan or identity I wanted to portray. I just wanted to speak my truth. For some reason it chimed. At first blogs were largely about politics, with the odd one about football and a few about funny incidents. Then in 2011, I was diagnosed with Prostate cancer. This changed the blog. I wanted to get the message out to other guys to get tested, so I started the cancer blog. As I wrote this, I realised it was theraputic documenting my journey and putting my thoughts and fears down. It inspired me to also talk about my dyslexia. I found that this helped me sort my head out. Writing down and rationalising my thoughts and feelings really helped me through. Life lesson #4 - Ananlysing your problems helps you find solutuons.
In 2021, the drummer in my bands son tragically took his own life. We were in lockdown. How do you help someone in that position? Well the only thing I could think of was to organise a band rehearsal ASAP. Sadly, our then singer was unwilling to rehearse for personal reasons, related to the pandemic. So I suggested that we rehearse a few ideas, for when he was able to come back. One of the songs I wanted to rehease, I wanted Lee Thompson of Madness to sing. I thought Lee's style would suit it. We rehearsed it, did a rough recording and I played it to Lee. He said "It's great, why don't you sing it?". I'd not sang with the band since 1982 and I hadn't enjoyed it then, but Lee's comments inspired me. When we did it, I realised that I'd changed. I loved it. We wrote a whole new set and to my amazement, we got a fantastic reaction, The False Dots got a completely new lease of life. We'd been chugging along doing a couple of local gigs a year, enjoying it, but not setting the world alight. The change made it a completely different prospect. I realised that I'd made a very stupid mistake not being the singer all along! It is probably the only aspect of my life I'd change! Life lesson #5 - It's never too late to undo a mistake. The band will never be headliners at Wembley Stadium or bother the charts, but we have an absolute blast. It is now the vehicle I always wanted it to be.
Yesterday, I went to Manchester for the day with my son, to watch Manchester City, have a curry and a couple of beers. Matt is 24. He's the age I was when my Dad died. If I dropped dead tomorrow, I am sure he'd have his own regrets about our relationship when he reaches 62, but we have spent time together and had a good laugh. In truth, I think I am, in many ways, an awful parent and it is my wife does most of the heavy lifting, but I think my kids love me, respect what I've done and I have given them the time I should have. Having said that, it really is important to realise that however old you are, whatever you are doing, you are still a work in progress and there is always scope to get your act together. In the Roman Catholic tradition, we often submit a deathbed confession to a priest, to clear the decks, so we can go to heaven. Surely it is far more sensible to sort things out, when you realise that you've made a mistake.
And finally, here's a ditty for you! Enjoy your Sunday!
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