Tuesday, 14 July 2020

Back to work - five things I'm missing from lockdown

For me, lockdown ended on the 14th June, when we reopened the studios to the general public. Well it sort of ended. Work restarted, sadly most of the things I enjoy in my leisure time are still not happening. No going to football, no gigs, no going to the gym with a relaxing sauna afterwards. The pub experience has been a bit odd. I've been into two so far. One was almost over zealous in its application of the social distancing rules, the other had no rules at all. We even had the joy of being accosted by a drunken BBC news journalist before we left!

Last night, I had a quiet beer in the Services club, watching a fascinating game of football, with a couple of friends. The subject of what we were missing from lockdown came up. I am missing very little, but there are a few things. Here is my list.

1. I am missing not being able to see people who irritate me that I have to see to be polite.

2. I am missing not being able to park outside my front door, as shoppers nicking the space to go to the Broadway are back en masse.

3. I am missing the hot days spent sunbathing in the garden, during the peak days of lockdown.

4. I am missing the angst of Leeds supporters, as they struggled to cope with the prospect of having promotion ripped from them. Although I could never see a situation where this actually happened, unlike Liverpool they were nowhere near far enough ahead to claim it was properly in the bag and that they could justifiably claim they were robbed.

5. I am missing the 'clap for carers'. I thought it was right and proper that we express our gratitude to the NHS workers and other key workers. I think it's a shame that as things now we return to normal that we forget the contribution.

What are you missing?
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Monday, 13 July 2020

Palaces for the people

The Scala 
This weekend, we took the opportunity to get out and about in town. Last night we met up with my sister in law for a meal at the rather marvellous Camino in Kings Cross. Tapas is one of my favourite types of food. Pre lockdown, Camino was a difficult place to get into, but last night we had the run of the place. We vowed to get to our favourite places ASAP as they need support like never before. Our meal was absolutely top notch. I like Tapas as you can pick at lots of different things and experience different tastes. The train was empty and took less than 20 minutes from Mill Hill. As you can see from the pictures, Kings Cross had nowhere near the usual bustle of 6pm on a Sunday evening.

I'd been up to town once since the Lockdown, that was for a trip to UCH for a scan at the height of lockdown, rather different to meeting friends. Much as the meal was wonderful, the best thing for me was re-acquainting myself with architecture of the area. For many of us, the Scala  holds a mystical charm.  When I was a teenager, it was a cinema showing cult movies. The area was edgy, with junkies and prostitutes a plenty. I never raised my eyes to appreciate the architecture of the building.  Nowadays, I always stand in awe and wonder when I see it. Kings and Queens build themselves palaces with large walls, guarded by Police and Soldiers. The Scala is a Palace of a different type, it is a palace of the people. It is a space we can all enjoy. Whenever I used to go past the wall of Buckingham Palace, on my way to Victoria on the no 52 bus, I'd wonder why anyone would build a palace and lock people out. It seemed rather selfish to me. Perhaps that is why I've always felt myself a republican, although I have a soft spot for her Majesty the Queen (as an aside, I'd much rather Princess Anne succeeded him that Prince Charles, who I consider to be a walking time bomb. If you read our history books, all of our best Monarchs were female. Anne would do the job properly, her brothers are a bunch of dim witted dodgy chancers in my humble opinion).

St Pancras




The Lighthouse
Another Palace that always makes me feel happy is St Pancras. It's ostentatious gothic design, housing an international railway service to me is a proper use of a palatial design. I've probably boarded trains tens of thousands of times at the station, but never tire of it. In some ways, this is my favourite view. There is no greater pleasure than having a glass of Champagne in the Champagne bar, before boarding the Eurostar to Paris. Sadly, I usually make my way to the bowels of the station and board a Thameslink Train to Mill Hill, which somehow isn't the same. Back in the 1970's, when the line was run using old fashioned Diesel trains, the driver would leave the blind open at the front and there was no greater thrill than emerging from the tunnels south of Kentish Town to see the station.  In those days, the station stank of diesel fumes and was full of grime. I always rather liked it, but now it really does feel like a palace.

The third Palace that brings me great joy is the Lighthouse. Located across the road from Kings cross Station, this rather unfeasible land mark has recently been given a spruce up. I have no idea why there is a lighthouse there, given the lack of ships and the sea, but it always makes me happy to see it. Underneath is a branch of the Burger chain five guys. I can think of no more fitting restaurant for a palace for the  people than a burger chain.

For many years, the humble burger was the street food of London on the go. It seems to me that in recent years, fried chicken has usurped this. I was talking to our resident pest controller at the studio and he tells me that the rise of the Fried Chicken shop has lead to a resurgence of the rat population, that munches on the disguarded bones.

London is full of such amazing buildings, the diversity of Londons architecture is unique. Many such as Prince Charles hate anything that isn't neo classical, but I love modern buildings such as the Shard just as much as the real classic heritage sites such as The Tower and St Pauls. But most of all, I love buildings that we can all enjoy and that play a living, functional role in our city, such as The Scala and St Pancras.
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Sunday, 12 July 2020

The Tweets of the week in the London Borough of Barnet - 12/7/2020

So we've had a week of freedom (sort of) from #Lockdown.Have you ventured to the pub? Been into town? If you've been wondering what the Tweeters of Barnet have been doing, wonder no more!

1. We'll start with a historical tweet. Did you know that our area was originally famed for its hay and manure!

2. Our borough has a very large Irish community, which I am proud to consider myself a member of. I am pretty sure that every last one of us loved this man, so I was chuffed to find this picture!

3. This was perhaps the biggest story of the week locally. The large area of open water on the A406.

4. This is an appalling story. We owe our local police a debt of gratitude for the work they do keeping us safe.

5. We enjoy a good bit of local art deco!

6. Being an old school punk, this is probably my favourite tweet this week. Brought back a few memories

7. Great to see the return of training for our favourite Rugby club

8. Did you know Dixons started in Edgware

9. This is a fantastic picture of my favourite statue

10. This made us chuckle


That's all folks

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Saturday, 11 July 2020

The Saturday List #270 - Ten amusing anecdotes about a friend who has since become a sensible adult

The end of an era 1986 - Graham Park Festival 1986
One friend of mine, who is not at all stupid, had quite a habit of saying the most illogical statements. Although he is now a reformed character, in the early 1980's he would smoke large amounts of weed, usually whilst driving and say and do things that were completely illogical.

Any car journey with him was scary beyond belief, as he'd drive along, spliff in mouth, leaning over the back seat to change the cassette in his massive ghetto blaster. How he never had an accident, I still don't understand, but I think he never lost his no claims bonus, even if he terrified us all. (I hasten to add that the Barnet Eye does not condone such behaviour, as we are a sober and serious blog).

At a friends funeral a few years ago, my friends son saw a picture of him with an illegal combustible substance and berated him for being "Mr hypocrite".  His current attitude to such things is a 180 degree turn. In 1987, my friend did a long tour of India, after which he decided to become a fine, upstanding citizen. It's always a shame when your friends grow up! The picture at the Grahame Park Festival was the last of that era of madness and chaos, sadly only myself and our drummer are still involved in music (to the best of my knowledge).

The collage that we put together of our deceased buddy showed a side that his son had never seen, my friend seemed quite embarrassed by it, but we all do things in our teens that we would be horrified if our kids did now.  I was chuckling over some of these, and thought it only fair to share some of his best moments.

1. The Parking space.
We had been on a night out. As ever he drove us home, with a large spliff in his mouth. He didn't drink so, he was a willing designated driver. It never really occurred to us that the spliff may not really help his judgement. On arrival back at his house, he parked between two cars, so close that none of the doors could be opened. His house was in an industrial estate and the cars were ones being worked on by one of the businesses. When I stated that it was a stupid place to park his response was "It's OK, tomorrow's Sunday". This stumped all of us. When I queried what that was supposed to mean, he said "Well no one will need to get into that car tomorrow". He'd rationalised that it was OK to block it in, because no one would be collecting it, failing to recognise that we were stuck in the car, unable to exit.

2. Directions.
On another occasion, we were going to the Three Horseshoes in Letchmore Heath. My friend was a man of strong views. He wasn't driving, but he would always believe that his preferred route was the best. As we approached Apex Corner from the Broadway, he queried why our friend who was driving was in the lane that took him onto the A41 rather than the A1 towards Sterling Corner. When the driver said "This is the way I always go", his response was "Don't go that way, go this way", signalling towards the A1, adding "That way's much quicker". This logic prompted  much hilarity, if he'd been a comedian, it would have become his catchphrase.

3.  The Arrest.
As previously mentioned, my friend lived in an industrial estate, in the caretakers cottage. Every night, he'd patrol it, checking the gates etc, with a large stick. On one occasion, the 12th August, he was patrolling and he noticed a meteorite. He remembered that there was a spectacular meteorite shower predicted for the evening. He decided to walk around to my place and suggest we walk up to Arrandene to watch it. Unfortunately he forgot to put the large stick down. As he walked down Mill Hill Broadway, he was spotted by a passing police car.  The sight of a large man, clad in a leather jacket carrying a big stick, understandably sparked some interest. He was pulled up and grabbed. Rationalising that it wouldn't be a good move to tell the police of his plan to meet up with me to smoke spliffs and watch meteorites in Arrandene, when asked why he had the stick he replied "Do you know what the date is?". The Policeman was stumped and replied "The 12th August?", to which my friend triumphantly replied "Yes, it's the start of the grouse beating season". The policeman concluded that he was clearly a deranged nutcase and he was arrested. He was taken to Colindale Station and charged with possession of an offensive weapon. Sadly for the officer, what seemed to be an open and shut case, suddenly took a very bad turn for his career. When he gave the paperwork to the Sergeant, the Sergeant quieried his surname, which was the name of his boss. My friend replied that yes, the chief superintendent was his Dad. As the paperwork had been filled in, this now was all rather embarrassing.  The case went to court, as the wheels were in process, but oddly the Police offered no evidence and the case was dismissed. My friends Dad queried why his son hadn't mentioned his name before he was charged. My friend replied that he'd told him not to. His Dad was perplexed and said "Surely you realised that I didn't mean it!". If ever you get stopped in Mill Hill Broadway with a large stick, I strongly recommend that you don't tell the Police you are grouse beating. Interestingly the police didn't search my friend. If they had done, the charge would have been far more serious.

4. The explosion.
The house my friend in had an open fireplace. There was a factory on the estate, that had a skip full of wood offcuts. My friend had no heating bills, as he'd simply collect the wood and burn it in the fire. We'd have many a pleasant evening sitting in front of the fire. On one occasion, we were happily sitting there having a beer. All of a sudden, we became aware of a load ticking coming from the fire. We were all puzzled. The next thing, there was a large explosion and we were all showered with hot cinders. It was a miracle the house wasn't burned down. When we'd managed to deal with the chaos, someone said "WTF happened there?". My friend said "Oh, that was my inhaler, I put it on the fire". We were all gobsmacked. I asked why. He replied "It said don't put it on a fire".

5. The Van.
My friend was also our roadie in chief for the band. Another friend had an old VW camper van, which he would lend us when we had gigs. The deal was that we'd leave it with a tank full of petrol.  The van was a classic Mk1 model, in army green. We were loading the gear from the van, into a gig when a rather fit looking young lady approached my friend. He was an exceptionally good looking chap in his teens. At the time he was single. Seeing his muscles lifting huge speakers from the van was simply too much for her. She approached him and said "I love your camper van, I've always wanted to go for a ride in one of those". To my amazement his response was "Oh, it's not my van, it's my mate Emils" and he walked off with the speaker into the gig. The young lady was quite bemused and walked off. When I queried his response, he said "She was only interested in the van".

6. The Dickies.
We'd grown up together, gone to the same school, been alter servers together, but my friend had one thing that I didn't. He was an amazing footballer. He was a proper cultured centre half. Whilst I was into music, he was into football. I decided that something needed to be done. Fortunately, the Dickies, probably the best live band in the world were playing at The Marquee. I suggested that he come along. At the time, his clothing was very non descript. I lent him a t-shirt as I didn't want him to look too out of place. As I'd suspected, the gig was brilliant and for him, it was life changing. The next day, he bought a new wardrobe and a stack of records. But my abiding memory of the gig was a conversation I had with Steve Ignorant, the lead singer of anarchist punk band Crass. I followed Crass and I knew Steve Ignorant. Steve was very political and a serious character. He walked out of the gig muttering about 'Stupid Americans'. I asked Steve how things were going. He replied that things were not good. He lived in a squat in Essex and he'd been getting some unwanted attention from the Police for his activities. My friend piped in "I could have a word with my Dad, he's a chief inspector if you like". I can't put Steve Ignorant's response in a family blog, but its fair to say Crass weren't one of the first albums my friend bought after his damascene conversion to punk rock.

7. The Barrel of doom.
At the back of my friends accommodation, there was a rainwater barrel. We had a drinking game, where we would play cards and the looser would have to immerse themselves in the barrel of cold water. We usually played this in January, the upside was you got to dry off in front of the fire, with a nice warm cup of tea. Being a nasty sod, I once cheated, so that my mates flat mate lost four times in a row. The next day, when he sobered up, the flatmate decided that there would be no more games of the barrel of doom. He emptied the barrel out. To his horror, there were several dead rats at the bottom of the barrel. That evening, we gathered to go out. The flatmate told us of his horror when he found them. My friend replied "There's nothing to worry about, they were dead".

8. The cup of sugar.
In around 1984, the industrial estate at the back was being redeveloped. The work was going on 24 x 7. We had been for a night out and found ourselves back at my friends. We fancied a cup of tea, but we had no sugar (not a problem for me, but it was for some of our friends). It was around 3am in the morning. So my friend got the sugar bowl and walked over to where the workmen were and asked if they could spare a cup of sugar. They happily obliged. When we returned, we were drinking the tea and he said "those builders are a bit weird". When I asked why he said "They offered me some chocolate biscuits to have with the tea". We were perplexed (not least because some chocolate biscuits would not have gone amiss).  I queried why that was weird. He replied "You can't dunk chocolate biscuits in tea".

9. Ittahgaps.
My friend bought himself a white fiat. For reasons I couldn't quite fathom, he decided to celebrate it's Italianness by making a stencil of the word Spaghetti and spraying it on the side. He seemed to spend days working on the stencil. Eventually, it was ready. He was working as a welder, so the plan was to spray it on with underseal. When it was unveiled, it said ittahgaps. We were all rather surprised. I queried why he'd done this. He replied "I think its more interesting". We suspected that he'd simply not realised the stencil was the wrong way around when he'd sprayed it, but he would have none of it.

10. My friend decided that he wanted to get himself a proper education when he got into his twenties. Like myself and most of our friends, he'd gone to Finchley Catholic High School in what I've been informed the school now call 'the dark period'. I escaped and went to Orange Hill, which resulted in O levels and A levels. My friend serially under achieved. But he is a bright lad. He decided that he wanted to study French. He loves gallic culture and ended up doing a degree. Now he owns a place in France and is a proper Europhile, but when he started it wasn't always smooth. We were having a beer and he told us that he'd caused much mirth when he handed his first essay in. The assignment was to write a newspaper style article about a local event. He had chosen an armed robbery at the post office in Mill Hill, that had been in the news locally. When he got his essay critiqued, the tutor congratulated him on a fine piece of work, but was surprised that the robber had chosen a cuillère as his weapon of choice. Of course my friend had meant to use the term couteau which is a knife, rather than a spoon. This caused much merriment, but he had the last laugh as he's now fluent

Have a great weekend
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Friday, 10 July 2020

Someone who makes your life worse has no place in it

Today's blog is the second in a short series of blogs on how to make yourself a better, happier and more fulfilled person. Yesterday, I talked about the need to let go of past resentments. Todays subject is toxic people, and how you should manage them out of your life. Sadly, we have all come across them. People who you let into your life as a friend, partner, lover, work colleague and they turn out to be a nightmare.Over the last 10-15 years there is a new category, the social media Troll. I've talked about trolls at length before, so we will give them a wide berth today, although the advice is pretty much the same.

There are two types of toxic people that I've come across, although I suspect they are exactly the same, but in different circumstances. The first type are the people who start out as friends and then gradually morph into a problem. The second type are people who turn up and are always a problem. Often these are work/school colleagues or friends of friends.

The first type of toxic person will gain your trust and respect, then start to systematically undermine you, make you feel bad. These are people who indulge in spousal abuse and take great delight in making other people feel bad. For their actions to be effective, they need to establish a degree of dependency, so that there is a downside to simply breaking off contact. Once you are in a relationship, have shared property, shared interests, shared friends, it becomes rather more difficult to simply cut all contact. They know there is a personal cost and will seek to exploit this ruthlessly. Sadly the only way to get out of the situation and get on with your life is to take the pain, even if it means losing friends, property and money. Typically such people seek to gain coercive control and the tell tail signs are all too clear.

Healthline have compiled a lost of the signs. I would urge anyone who is worried to consider these, if you have a difficult relationship.

1. Isolating you from your support network
2. Monitoring your activity
3. Denying you freedom and autonomy
4. Gaslighting
5. Name calling and putting you down
6. Limiting your access to money
7. Reinforcing traditional gender roles
8. Turning your children against you
9. Controlling aspects of your health and body
10. Making jealous accusations
11. Regulating your sexual activity
12. Threats of violence against your children or pets

If you recognise any of these signs and this is a problem (a partner suggesting a joint account to pay the mortgage isn't, a partner telling you that you can no longer have your own account is, as an example), then you really need to seriously think about getting out of that relationship. If someone is violent or abusive, then there are organisations that provide support. They have the experience to get you out of the situation, it will not be easy or pleasant, but it is worth doing. If you are on the end of domestic abuse, click this link. If you are worried about your partner seeing what you've been looking at, go to the library and use their IT facilities.

A bad partner is easy to spot, but bad friends can be as damaging. I'm sure we've all had experience of when a new person turns up in our social group and everyone else loves them, but for some reason, you don't hit it off. You suddenly find that you aren't being invited to get togethers, there are embarrassing pauses in conversations, where you are not quite sure what is going on. Get togethers that you used to enjoy have become difficult and stressful. The problem here is that you like everyone else, but the individual in question is ruining everything. In my experience, the only way to deal with this is to give the individual as wide a berth as possible. If this means sacrificing nights out, parties and holidays, it can be hard but will ultimately prove worth it. My advice is to find other things to fill the gap. Taking the 'its me or them' stance generally doesn't work because friends don't like being forced to choose or make hard decisions. If you quietly absent yourself from the group, then the person will generally start on someone else and sooner or later nature will take its course. The sad truth is that moving on from toxic situations and friendships is better than feeling bad about yourself. Many years ago, I had a situation where one such person inserted themselves into my closest friendship circle. I quickly realised that I did not want to spend time with them, but in order to keep the peace, I kept up pretenses, whilst cutting out all but necessary contact with the individual. In the end, I lost the friends anyway, as a situation was engineered that was irrecoverable by the poisonous individual. I realised that had I cut the association completely when I should have, I would have not ultimately lost the other friends in the group in the way I did. It would have been difficult, but ultimately when the toxic individual moved on, I would have still had the other friends.

The Toxic colleague/ business associate is an altogether more difficult problem to deal with. If you work for a large organisation, I'd suggest getting a paper trail. If they are making impossible demands, email them and ask them to clarify exactly what they want. I had a colleague at one company, who I realised was deliberately undermining me and trying to belittle me on conference calls. He would make unreasonable demands, then berate me when his expectations were not met. I felt he was trying to provoke a reaction. I dealt with this by emailing him when he made these demands, giving detailed explanations of what could and couldn't be delivered in the time frame, why this was so and asking for him to set priorities. He did not respond to these requests, at the next meeting he again berated me. I raised the email and said he'd not responded. He exploded at me and stated that he was too busy to bother reading my emails. I calmly stated that it was hard to deliver anything if he wouldn't read communications and set priorities. At this he was quite rude. As there were senior management on the call, he was removed from the project. I had taken the precaution of copying them in, so they were aware of what I'd asked. Large companies have grievance procedures and whistle blowing policies. These are a last resort, but as soon as you feel that you are in a position where you are uncomfortable, you should start building a dossier to support your case.

If you work for a small company or it is a voluntary organisation etc, this is more difficult. If it is the boss who is giving you problems, then sadly the only option may be to leave. Your happiness and mental health is your most important asset. There are always other jobs, other organisations. You are more important.

One other topic we should discuss. If there is a pattern and you find that you have these problems regularly, maybe you should consider options for self improvement. Our culture has a strange concept that addressing personal defects is a sign of personal failure. It isn't. It's a mature reaction to a realisation that you could be better, happier and more fulfilled. I've had counselling to deal with depression and anger over the course of my life. I have studied psychology, to help understand why people do such seemingly irrational things at times. When I have a problem with an individual, I develop a strategy for dealing with them. If it is someone who I cannot escape from due to circumstance, then I have a strategy to mitigate the damage they do. It doesn't always work, but when it doesn't that means the strategy simply needs improvement. Generally, a few basic rules if you know someone is trying to rile you. Stay calm and polite, if they insult you agree with them by saying "You are quite right, I must remember not to do that', if they tell lies about you, simply say "I really don't recall that but I'm sure you are correct" or say "I'm not disagreeing with you, no one is perfect" and leave it there.
If they do rile you, don't brood on it. Just make sure that next time they push that button, you don't respond. Always remember people attack you by referencing their own vulnerabilities. They will probe until they find a weakness then exploit it. But like a dam that springs a leak, you can allow the fault line to grow or you can repair it. Next time they reference it, don't respond.  Do not try and get one up on them, by not rising to the bait, you already have.  If you hear through third party that they have said something nasty, just revive the old Christine Keeler come back "Well they would say that wouldn't they!" with a laugh. You don't have to engage to make someone realise that the whole premise is ridiculous. Just make it clear that you've no interest in engaging with such nonsense. The truth is that toxic people spend their lives digging a hole for themselves, you don't have to jump into it with them. Walk away and hold your head high.

Here's a little inspiration to do that as it's a Friday


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Thursday, 9 July 2020

You will never be happy until you learn to let resentments go

Life is full of all manner of needless upset. Most of the time it is truly irrational. I was reading some of the newspaper coverage of Johnny Depp and his lawsuit against The Sun. What struck me was just how unhappy he seemed. Putting aside the serious issues at the heart of it, how sad is it that such a successful actor, who seemingly has everything, needs to 'self medicate'  to the point where he is completely comatose. I am no angel and I am not a stranger to overdoing things, but it seems to me that Mr Depp's drinking is not the real problem. I suspect that there are demons that he just can't get control of and the drink is used as a relief from whatever darkness is lurking within. Of course I don't know him, but I recognise aspects of what he is doing. 

When I was in my early thirties, I found myself on a path of very self destructive behaviour. On the face of it, I thought I was having an amazing time, I was living the life. But one day, I awoke from a very heavy session, feeling like death, in bed on my own and I realised that something was seriously wrong in my life. I decided to have a 'few days off drinking'. This I did, but the longer it went on, the worse I felt. Not physically, but I would sit in my bedroom, thinking about all of the slights, all of the resentments, all of the bad things  anyone had ever done to me, silently raging. 

I felt that I wanted to put all of my memories in a tin and throw it in the sea. For a few years I'd meditated to relax, but even this wasn't working. A friend rang up and asked me if I wanted to go for a beer that evening. I decided that this was infinitely better than sitting in my front room feeling annoyed. I got the Thameslink up to town, made my way to the pub and bought a drink awaiting his arrival. No one came, I assumed he'd been held up (This was pre mobile phone days). I had another, no one came, I had another. After about the sixth pint, in a foul mood, I made my way home. I was cross that he'd dragged me all of the way into town, only to fail to show up. I was also cross with him, as I'd broken my no drinking pledge. I vowed that next time he called, I'd tell him where to get off. 

I didn't hear anything for a couple of days. It confirmed my feelings that the guy was a selfish twat. Eventually the phone rang. I answered and he was extremely apologetic. I was just about to tell him what to do, when he explained that a tragedy had occurred just after he spoke to me, and he had to make a journey and he'd been so distracted he'd forgotten he'd even arranged to meet me that evening. When he'd remembered he'd called. Of course, I could say nothing, but I resented this. He really wanted to meet up and have the drink, I realised that he needed it. So we met up. He is usually the life and soul of the party, so when we had an evening of him pouring his heart out, it wasn't really what I needed to lift my mood. But that is what we do for friends, isn't it?

But I was in a selfish and self destructive cycle, so I just found the whole thing an almighty pain in the backside. At the end of the evening, he said how great it had been to 'just have a beer and pour my heart out'. He suggested we meet the following week. I said "Give me a bell on Monday and we'll sort something out, I need to see what night is free". It will sound crass and horrible, but I fully intended to make my excuses. I had my fill of his miserableness. I felt it might be contagious and that was the last thing I needed. On the way back, I met a mutual friend on the train.  He asked where I'd been and I explained. I mentioned that he'd suggested meeting the following week. Our mutual friend asked if he could come along. I now felt backed into a corner, I was lumbered. I wanted to say "Well actually I've had my fill of listening to his problems" but I actually said "Yeah, that's a great idea". I went home and felt a deep resentment against the pair of them. By the time he rang and we'd set the night for Wednesday, about five or six friends had been roped into going. Again very selfishly, I thought "Well at least they can listen to him and I'll talk to someone else". The appointed night came around, and we actually all had a great night. My friend was in a markedly better frame of mine and so the morose outpouring of the previous week was long gone. At the end of the night, he thanked me so much for 'getting the boys out'. I felt like a complete fraud. 

The following Saturday, I again woke with a hangover, I got myself ready to play football, and made my way to the meeting point for Old Hendonians, who I was playing for at the time. I loved playing for them, but the game was a disaster for me, as I pulled my hamstring badly after half time. I was between contracts and so I had no work, and I was stuck at home, almost unable to walk and in pain. I've never been someone who drinks on my own, and so I had a week's enforced sobriety. I started to think about the events and rather irrationally, decided that the injury was Gods punishment for being such an uncaring fraud. My then ex Girlfriend (now my Wife) called up to see if I was OK. We'd been on good terms, just felt we couldn't live together. I explained that I could hardly walk, but was fine. She asked if she could do any shopping or cook me something, but I declined. I wasn't really in the mood to be cheerful with anyone. 

After the call finished, I started thinking about everything. I realised that not only was I a rather selfish person, but the root cause of it all was holding on to resentment and anger. As chance would have it, there was an article in the paper about anger management. I read this and wondered whether this would help. So I booked up for some counselling. What came out of that was something that I had not expected at all. The sessions revealed that my great sense of anger and resentment had started at school. It had its roots in my dyslexia. In the 1960's and 70's dyslexics were just considered thick troublemakers. Bullying was rife, especially by the teachers, who would make you feel awful about yourself. I was full of unresolved anger towards teachers, ex classmates, ex bandmates, ex colleagues, former bosses, the list could go on. Every slight was neatly filed in my brain, to be endlessly analysed and to fester. What the counselling made me realise was that this was actually a defence mechanism from my early school days. I didn't like teachers humiliating me and getting the rest of the class to laugh at me ( a standard practice at St Vincents). So I'd just bottled up the anger, as I had no way of getting back at them. As I'd progressed, I'd simply adopted  the strategy every time anyone upset me. In relationships, if someone upset me, I'd shut them out, rather than try and resolve something, even though half the time they wouldn't know why I was upset. 

The other downside of this was the selfishness. I realised that my resentment towards my friend and his problems, was a complete inability to deal with grief, both my own and other peoples. The resentment I felt was not resentment at all, but a desire to absent myself from a situation which I couldn't cope with. My friend had complimented me on being a good listener, but the truth was that I simply was terrified of the feelings of fear that what he was saying had triggered and almost unable to speak. 

I had three sessions with the counsellor. Once I realised that the root of all of my problems was dyslexia, I felt further counselling was unnecessary. I'd realised that the way to deal with fear and anger was not alcoholic excess. I'd taken on board some basic strategies and felt I was 'cured'. In truth I wasn't cured at all, but I could cope marginally better with difficult situations and I had learned that if  I felt my sense of anger rising, I could generally manage this by deploying one of a number of taught strategies. As for the long term resentments, realising these had to be dealt with was a key. There was no point feeling resentful about people where you will never see the person again. As a start, I wrote letters to the people I felt the most resentment towards, explaining why. When I re-read those, I realised that the whole resentment  thing wasn't worth the bother. 

Then I looked at my own behaviour. If I applied the same rules to my own behaviour as I had to everyone else, I was damned. I had been horrible to many people I really liked. God only knows why they put up with it and forgave me. Those that hadn't, I'd simply manufactured a huge sense of resentment against. When I looked at it from their perspective, often they'd been quite reasonable. Some of the things that had upset me, in hindsight were ridiculous. How could I still harbour a grudge because someone put the wrong album on at my birthday party? How could I still harbour a resentment at the ex band member who nicked the battery out of my effects pedal before a gig? How could I still hold a grudge against the teacher who had deliberately given me the wrong English Literature Mock  O level paper, resulting in me getting 0/100 and thrown off the course. How could I possibly still hold a grudge against the Head Master who told my mother I was a homosexual because I wore pink socks to school? How could I possibly still hold a grudge against the former class mate who'd smacked me in the mouth and stolen my Kit Kat when I offered him a piece? How could I possibly still hold a grudge against the ex girlfriend who had dumped me and gone of with someone she knew I thought was a complete twat? The point was that whilst all of these things at the time were devastating in their own way, they were all in the distant past and had no bearing on my life today. Some of the perpetrators had passed away. most were people I would never see, so why did I even bother thinking about them. And what if I saw any of them now? What would it say about me, if they knew I still had the hump about it?

A couple of years ago, I had another beer with the friend who had the crisis I mentioned at the start. He mentioned the night we went for a beer and said "Mate, you saved my life, I was in pieces". He then said "I was all over the place, I was surprised you arranged a night out the week after, but that really helped so much". I was quite shocked he'd even remembered. So I thought I'd tell the truth. I told him that I'd found it really difficult listening to it and if I hadn't met up with our mutual friend, who suggested he came along, I wasn't sure I could have faced listening to his woes again. I told him that I felt a bit of a fraud. He replied that "We all feel like that sometimes mate, and you were there, don't beat yourself up over what ifs". 

That really is the bottom line. It isn't the 'what if's' that define us. It is what we did. The resentments we gather as we go through life don't help us. They just hold us back. I am far from perfect, but over the last 25 years I've got myself to a far better place. It was a long journey and what I've mentioned here is just really the first step of the process. During the period of Lockdown, I actually realised that the dyslexia was not the major problem I thought it was, there was an even bigger elephant in the room, but I've still to fully get my head around that one. Last year I started to write my autobiography and I realised that there is another event in my past that had an even greater bearing. 

But that is a blog for another day and resentment plays no part of it. 

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Wednesday, 8 July 2020

Normality has returned? Sorry I am feeling anything but normal

The pubs are sort of open, well some of them are sort of open. My business has opened, well it has sort of opened (as many of the things we do, we are not doing - Ballet lessons, Choirs, Bands of any size, to list a few). I've had a pint in the Mill Hill Services club, the place where I had my last pre lockdown pint (I actually heard the announcement in there, as a supped a post work cheeky one). 

Someone suggested to me at the studio that things are returning to normal. If anything, I think they have gotten weirder. It is sort of like we've been transported to a parallel universe, with all the joy stripped out. Want a pint? Give us your name and sit there? Want to hear some live music? Log into Zoom. Want to have dinner with friends? Don't bother if there are more than six of you. 

It has left me feeling rather unsettled, if I am honest. I've spent my life sneaking into pubs for cheeky pints, indulging banter with strangers, sneaking out to watch live music, chatting to the musicians, sound crew, roadies etc. It's the cherry on the top of all the other stuff. The next gig in the calendar is what makes unblocking the drains at the studio worthwhile. 

Yesterday, for a short time, I had what was almost a mini panic attack. I got back from work, I was quite tired and I sat down with a cup of tea. As I sat there, I started thinking of the pointlessness of our current existence. I have long had a routine of having three days off drinking a week. This has historically been the days when I stayed in (and the footie wasn't on the telly). I don't drink on my own at home. It has always seemed a bit miserable. One or two nights, I'd share a nice bottle or wine with Mrs T and we'd watch something on telly. Most weeks, we'd do a gig or two, Saturday would be football at Hadley or Manchester City FC, Thursday would be a beer after five a side with Big John and the boys. The other days would be nice and chilled. Now it is just drink because it is something to do. We've had a few friends in the garden (and they've reciprocated us). It has been nice, but it is nothing like a night on the town. As I pondered this, I felt despondent and hopeless. Some pubs may well be open, but it just isn't the same as the pub culture I know and love. I like to sit at the bar, chat to bar staff, chat to strangers. As to football, for me, the idea of football without fans is just not an experience that is satisfying. The lack of five a side has deprived me of the hour a week where I reset my thought patterns. When you play football,  you don't think about the stress of daily life.  As for the lack of live music. As someone in a band, and a lover of live music, it has felt like being put in prison. There is no upside to any of this. On top of that, there are the inevitable financial stresses just about everyone I know is suffering. In the short term, our business is OK, but no one knows when live music will return, and without that, I am really not sure if the there is a long term future for music studios. We are well placed to survive, and if other studios are forced out of business due to lack of demand, that might fill some of the gaps in our finances, but I don't want to survive on the misfortune of others. A group of studio owners have got together to form an organisation called AIRRS (Association of Independent Recording and Rehearsal Studios). It started as a WhatsApp chat. This has been one positive thing to come out of the situation, but many people in the industry are suffering. 

I think that in the UK we are lucky in many ways. We have the NHS, which I believe spared us the worst effects of the bad decisions of a a very poor government. We have food and we can make choices such as how many days a week we can have a drink. But like many, I am deeply unsettled by the whole experience. I had hoped that the crisis would deliver a degree of enlightenment to our beloved Prime Minister, but he seems to be a man without vision, a man without a clue. We are on a ship where the Captain has decided it is all too much trouble and he's letting the rats set the course. My natural demeanour is to be positive and upbeat. However there comes a time when there simply isn't anything much to be positive and upbeat about, that you just have to say to yourself that we have to face up to this new reality and it really isn't very good. Normality may have started to return, but like many, I feel anything but normal right now.


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Tuesday, 7 July 2020

7/7 Fifteen years on

Today is the 15th anniversary of the 7/7 attack. In 2008 I wrote an article for the Barnet Times, recalling my experience. It was one of the strangest days of my life. I was on the bus behind the one which got blown up, although I was blissfully unaware of this at the time.

It was all fresh in my mind then. It is worth re-reading

As we come to the anniversary of the 7/7 bombs, I thought it only fitting that we should pause for a moment and remember the victims, their families and that terrible day. Here are my memories of the day.
At the time, I was doing a some contract work at Aldgate, so normally I would take Thameslink to Farringdon and get the Met line on to Aldgate. On 7/7 I had a meeting in Oxford St so the plan was to go to Kings Cross and get the Victoria line to Oxford Circus. The day didn't start well as the radio travel announced that there was disruption on the Thameslink route due to work between Mill Hill and Hendon. An emergency timetable was running and all trains were stopping all stations. I went to the station and decided to try my luck anyway. As luck would have it an absolutely packed train pulled in and I was on my way. In hindsight one of the things which has always puzzled me to this day is the fact that despite the report of engineering work, there were no workmen on the line.
On arrival at Kings Cross there was a scene of mayhem. All of the tube lines were shut and I couldn't even get a mobile phone signal. By now I was late for my meeting and I needed to let someone know. The only announcements were that there were power problems and the network was closed. Then I got a signal and phoned the wife, who told me the same thing. Then the phone went dead. At this point I decided to get a bus. Again I was in luck. A no 30 pulled up and I jumped on. This goes to Marble Arch, so I thought I could walk down from Gt Portman Street. Unfortunately the bus only got about 50 yards when a policeman jumped on and screamed at the driver "Get everyone off this bus now" The driver asked why and the Policeman shouted "don't argue, get them off now" at which point the driver got us all to disembark. I now decided to walk, as it is not too far. As I got to Russell Street, I saw a rather odd sight. walking towards me was a little, old chinese looking guy. My first thought was "he's been at a great wedding party" as he looked as if he was covered in confetti and he was staggering rather unsteadily with a glazed look. As he got closer, I realised it wasn't confetti but bits of wood & other debris. How strange I thought. (not realising that the wreckage of the number 30 bus which had just blown up was about 100 yards down the road). Police were now frantically sealing the road off. Fire engines were hurthling towards me. All rather strange. I asked a policeman what was going on and he just moved me on.
As I got to Tottenham Court Road, I was a telly screen with Sky News on it. The infobar was my first inkling of the true enormity of what was taking place. Up until then I'd just thought it was power problems on the tube. The info bar mentioned "several bombs" "large bang heard at Aldgate" "Tube network shut" "many casualties reported" .
My first concern was my friends at Aldgate who I was working with. Still no phone signal though. By now I was very late for my meeting, so I jogged the last little bit.
When I got to my destination, none of the people I was due to see had turned up. My first concern was to call the office and the landline was working so I called in. Thankfully they were all OK. They agreed that I might as well go home. Now at this point it was still unclear as to the true extent of the carnage. As there were no buses, tubes or anything else, I thought I'd go to Selfridges and get my wife a belated birthday present. This had always been my plan for when the meeting finished. London was like a ghost town. Oxford Street was deserted. I went into Selfridges and I was the only customer. All of the staff were asking me what I knew and I had my own personal shopping assistants. I then decided to have some breakfast in the hope that the tube service would be restored.
By now it was 11.30. No buses, no news. I decided to start walking. I hatched a cunning plan. At each pub I passed I would nip in, have a half, and see what news was on the TV. At each stop the news got worse as the story unfolded. When I got to Swiss Cottage, it seemed there were buses running. I asked an inspector and he said "Jump on the first one mate, and get as far as you can"
At that moment an old routemaster on the no 13 route drew up. This would take me to Golders Green, so I was off. As I sat on the upper deck, I thought how strange that my last journey on a Routemaster (it had been announced they were going) would be in such circumstances. It seemed a very "London" way to travel home that day. At Golders Green, the 240 came in and I was on my way home.
At home, I just spent the rest of the evening watching the story unfold. The news wasn't good, but thankfully none of my close friends or people I worked with were hurt. Then I saw Mrs Fatayi-Williams make her famous plea on the news. When I saw her I recognised her as a lady who attends the same church as our family. Now over the years I've written songs, poems, speeches, articles, blogs. I like to think I'm pretty good, but nothing I've written has the power of her words.
When I'm feeling low about things I still look at what she said occasionally. Now I don't know Mrs Fatayi-Williams although I've seen her on many occasions, but she is an inspiration for those of us who have to deal with grief. I feel a strange bond with her. Her son is buried in the same cemetry as my beloved Dad. I have to walk past his grave when I put flowers on my dads grave. My dad had a full life and died naturally when his time came. Anthony's life was cruelly stolen from him. Rest in peace Anthony and all of the other victims. Let us all hope and pray that this will be the very last ever atrocity in our beloved city and that we can all learn to resolve our disputes without violence.
That would be a fitting tribute to all of the victims. 

Sadly since I wrote those words we have had all manner of atrocities. But we can still hope
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Monday, 6 July 2020

Time for the Government to show some imagination to restart the economy


The High Street is changing
The country is at a cross roads. We have run up huge debts. The only way that the UK PLC will recover is by creating an environment for dynamic and creative people to succeed. There is plenty of empty space. Much of this has Landlords who have to pay business rates on empty units. There are also a lot of people with time on their hands, skills and ideas. There is also a third group. People who are wealthy and are receiving little or no interest on their savings. The reason why we see so many charity shops, is because the sector is exempt from business rates, so it is relatively cheap to set up such a shop. The new bar in the Broadway stood empty for a couple of years, following the departure of HSBC. Several businesses tried to take over the unit, only for it to fall through. One of the biggest impediments is planning permission. This can often take months. There are costs and as the High Street changes, only the big chains often have the staying power to see through applications. That is why the Old Lloyds bank is now a Domino's pizza. They were prepared to jump through all the hoops to get the premises redesignated.

We need to get the nation back to work. We need to give the young entrepreneurs a chance to compete. We need to level up the playing field. I am proposing that we the Chancellor launches a Covid19 Business Recovery Scheme. There are two strands to this. I should mention that neither of these would benefit me personally.

1. Covid Business recovery grant. I am proposing that any business that had to shut during the lockdown, and was not in receipt of a grant or rates relief, should get a £10,000 grant, in the form of a tax credit. This will go some way to helping such businesses get through this period. The grant should be available to any business that pays business rates and has at least one employee on PAYE. I would suggest that any business with a turnover of under £250,000 should be able to apply.

2. Covid business launch scheme. We need to get people out and starting businesses. Setting up a new business is a costly and risky business. Often Landlords are unwilling to grant short leases to new businesses. However, as they are paying rates on empty premises, there is an incentive. I would propose that the scheme would allow a rates free period of six months,  a 75% reduction for the second six months, followed by a 50% rebate for the second year. The Landlord would grant the tenant a lease for six months, with an option for a second six months, then a year. The business would simply register with the local authority. The only condition would be that at least one employee would be employed for 35 hours on at least the national minimum wage. I would also give people investing in such businesses a tax break similar to the EIS scheme, to make it attractive to people. The scheme would limit to two the number of such businesses that could operate from a premises in a two year period. The business would not be able to have any association with the Landlord. I think many people would take advantage of the scheme to launch pop up businesses to see if they work. Six months trading would demonstate whether the business is viable. Investors would have the opportunity to invest in innovation. I would also waive planning restrictions on such businesses. So if a small cafe wants to take over a bank premises, they would be granted an exemption for the change. If the business was still in the premises and operating after two years, they would get an automatic change of use. So if a small cafe wanted to take over a closed bank, then this would be automatically allowed. I would allow councils to place restrictions on areas or of special historic or economic interest, so Churches or important industrial areas had a degree of protection. I would also limit the scheme to premises with a rateable value of under £75,000.

If the business failed or moved during the period, the planning would revert to the original usage. I would put some limits, so that bookmakers and certain other businesses would not be able to take advantage of the scheme. I would also limit it to UK nationals with a valid NI number. I am convinced that giving investors a tax break to invest in businesses would generate a huge amount of economic activity. I would put a restriction that the business owners could only take money out of the company via PAYE, to ensure that the scheme is not abused. After two years, all restrictions would be lifted and the business would pay regular rates. From a local authority perspective, I would allow local authorities to claim a proportion, say 20% of the lost rates back from central government. This money would be ringfenced for business support, high street regeneration and schemes of community benefit.

The scheme would benefit all.
1) The Business owners would find it far easier and cheaper to start businesses.
2) The locality would benefit from regeneration, which would largely be funded by private investors.
3) The Investors would benefit from a tax break and the opportunity to invest in dynamic new businesses
4) The Exchequer would benefit from the generation of tax income from the new employees. I believe that over the course of the scheme, this would easily offset the loss of rates and tax breaks.
5) The local authority would benefit from the income from the scheme.
6) The Landlords would benefit from not having to pay rates and a more vibrant market for premises.
7) The economy would benefit from the innovation of a new generation of business owners.

I have run a business for forty years and I've mentored and assisted many other people who have started successful businesses. Not all businesses are successful, not all people who think they can run a business can, but all work hard. All are prepared to take chances. In the last weeks, since the restrictions started to be lifted, I've been working 60-70 hours a week. It is what you have to do. I believe that people who are prepared to do this, occasionally need a little help.

I have been thinking about High Street regeneration quite a lot recently, and what makes a successful business. As I walked down Mill Hill Broadway over the weekend, I looked at the activity occurring. We will soon have a new bar, where the HSBC used to be. I hope they will do well, they started the fit out and work before lock out, so I hope they will not see their plans scuppered. Some of the shops were still shut, with no indication of when they will reopen. Some have been open since the 16th. I try and buy local and so I was very pleased that Gary Rockman opened his jewellers then. That meant I could buy my wife a necklace for her birthday. Gary's shop is an example of the type of business that survives the so called demise of the High Street. Gary is an expert and he stocks pieces that you really need to see close up to appreciate. He is also a  very nice chap and has a loyal customer base. 

Sadly there are too many units that have closed down, some for a considerable period of time. During lockdown, we lost the last of our big four banks, with the demise of Barclays. This pattern is repeated across London and the rest of the country. During the lockdown, we updated one of our most popular blogs from 2009. This was a list of the shops in the Broadway in 1958 compared to 2009. Updating it with the current situation, I realised just how much empty space there is. Whilst this is clearly not a good thing, it is clear to me that this actually could present a great opportunity for the UK economy. 

Talking to Gary and also Gerard, the butcher on Daws Lane, it is clear that there is a huge demand for quality independent businesses. I run a small business in a small industrial estate. I have seen first hand how random the rules about covid relief have affected my neighbours. Some have benefitted and some have fallen between the cracks. Whilst I understand that the Chancellor has a monumental job on his hands, those that fall between the cracks, really have suffered and there is absolutely no way that they can get anything, because as we all know, when 'the computer says no' that is the end of the matter in 2020. It is a shame that there isn't a 'hardship fund' for such people, where those who fall through the cracks, can talk to a human being with a bit of common sense and discretion. Small business is good for the economy. It provides jobs and innovation and most large businesses started as small businesses. That is why I believe the sector should lead the recovery. 
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Sunday, 5 July 2020

The tweets of the week in the London Borough of Barnet - 5/7/2020

The pubs and restaurants are open. The Sun is shining. But what have the Tweeters of Barnet been up to?

1. Many thanks to Barnet Rebel for solving this conundrum


2. Dramatic scenes in Edgware. Funny how many 'derelict buildings in the Borough get burned to the ground"


3. We love our local litter pickers. Always happy to give them a plug!


4. Always good to learn some local history


5. A nice piece of local history, as ever from @Time_NW


6.Is this the latest delivery on our local Twitter feeds


7. We are keeping an eye on progress at the new Brent Cross West station, courtesy of some fine local tweeters


8. Hendon looked like the place to be for some proper entertainment 100 years ago!


9. More great work from Barnets Libraries


10. My personal favourite tweet of the week


That's all folks!
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