Cigarettes and credit fraud

I had a very odd experience on Monday night, for which I have absolutely no explanation. I was sitting and reading when I had an intense craving for a cigarette. I wasn't reading anything about smoking, nor had I been in the company of smokers, and I hadn't had a drink or anything. Nor had I had a stressful day, or a row with the kids or anything else that one might think of as a trigger.

It's well over two years since I stopped smoking, and I found it quite easy to stop. I think that is because I really wanted to. I had found it incredibly difficult the twenty times before – which is probably why those ones go down as failures. And I think that’s because I felt I ought to stop, rather than that I wanted to. Five days of “ought to” are easily trumped by “but I need one”.

Stopping played a little bit of havoc with my metabolism for a while, and there is the need to “do something” with your hands, but avoiding smokers for a couple of weeks and it was done.

So why then did I finish a chapter and then think – “Ooh, time for a ciggie”? And when I went to have a cup of tea and a (purely medicinal you understand) chocolate biscuit, these didn't satisfy the desire. It was about an hour afterwards that the feeling had passed.

I know many ex-smokers who say they still have that sort of craving often. Usually it is linked to (or perhaps enhanced by) booze, but they get through it. And if they are somewhere were they can have a cigarette, they probably do, and feel bad about it the next day, but don’t rush out to buy a packet of twenty before work.

And since Monday? Nothing. No desire at all. And that is despite having been with people who smoke at various times, so having access to the stuff. So I’m putting it down to some small and usually quiet part of my brain that woke up, had a bit of a moan and then either dozed off again or was beaten into submission by the more regular contributors to my consciousness*.

And that leaves me just a little nervous – because things that I thought were in the past and dealt with, clearly aren't.  I need to keep my guard up.

Helpfully, I’m delighted that my bank has helped make this easier for me by cancelling my plastic card for reasons of fraud. So, I can’t buy ciggies even if I want to. To be fair, they are doing their job as the card has been scammed somehow (and it was clear from my call with them that they think they know where this happened – they just won’t tell me. It’s always a garage isn't it?).  So I support what they are doing, of course. I just think “shit, I've got no money” even though I can’t actually think of anything for which I need it. Think that I’m going to need to start keeping a hundred quid in a safe place somewhere as a fall back. But then it’ll be there when Mr Craving calls. Or Mr Burglar for that matter. Oh dear, what to do?

* Note for any brain experts reading this – yes, I know that isn't really how the brain works, but it’s a model that makes me comfortable, like the one where I still imagine the bank has a box in a safe with my money in it. Or did have, until the fraudster struck.

(Sort of) in Defence of the Daily Mail

I apologise for (or perhaps, see below, I only regret) the intermittent service at the moment. I am just incredibly busy with work stuff. Which I don't talk about here as a matter of policy - but lets just say i) not enough hours in the day and ii) fairly major expectation gap.

So I have just grabbed five minutes while I have a sandwich and, rather than looking out of window at sunny Croydon, I thought I'd drop in a few words.

I'm not really sure what is going on in the world right now (due to general busy-ness). But I saw one of those wretched interviews on Newsnight where Harriet Harman and Laura Kuenssberg got all semantic about "apologise" as opposed to "regret". Whilst I don't think that we can hold Harriet responsible for things she had little influence on 30 years ago, I was left thinking "oh just answer the f**king question" - my loathing of the political class generally has now evidently come so far that they have lost all sympathy.

Not (as if you would ever think it) that I have any time for the Dai1y Mai1 - how ironic for a paper that printed the famous Charlotte Church "all grown up" story to say anything about paedophilia (and if you say "that's different" then the answer is that legally, no, it isn't really). But of course it must not be the case that we disregard a story merely because of the vile rag it is printed in. Let's face it, if ten years ago we had been asked "which newspaper will break the MPs expenses scandal?" who would have said the Telegraph? That's as typical a Guardian (or even Eye) story as you would ever see.

So it is troubling when I here people say "ignore it, because it's in the Mail", knowing they would get all serious if it was in the Independent.

Print journalism is hugely under threat. Why buy a paper when the internet is free and mobile? And then to seek to limit freedom to publish reduces them to pictures of kittens and drunk slebs. But when it comes to the next expenses scandal equivalent - who else is going to break the story? Some blogger writing whilst eating his sandwich? A free press with some power (and integrity) is needed to hold governments to account, and like it or not, that does mean you have to put up with the Daily Mail.

Home comforts do not sit well with the wider world

I am enjoying a relaxed weekend with the kids. It's nice when the most demanding calls of the day are "tea or coffee?" and "shall we go out for dinner?"*.

Other than that, I am persevering with Flemish politico-crime drama "Salamander", trying hard to work on music for the forthcoming Voxcetera concert, and trying but failing not to care about the Six Nations.

More of the same this afternoon I think. With a little ironing, perhaps a visit to the gym and doing my accounts for the end of January (whoops). Actually, there is no way the last of those is going to happen.

I'm also watching the situation in Ukraine with a mixture of disappointment and worry. We seem to be at a point where the EU and Russia's influences are in the balance and I do not see it ending well. Ukraine is one of those places about which I am really ignorant. At school it wasn't a country so its distinct issues were not covered, and since then whilst I am aware of the Orange revolution, alleged Presidential poisoning etc, I don't know why the issues are the issues. And today's BBC News just doesn't give that sort of detail.

It also brings how how for all our apparent security in Europe, global stability is at best short-term if not completely illusory. Couple this with the economic situation and I do feel sorry for anyone growing up today.


* Coffee, and let's see what that new ribs place is like , if you were interested.

The BRITS - a middle-aged perspective

One of the perils of spending time occasionally with teenage children is that their habits do not coincide with mine. For the two who are currently on half-time, this means that they are operating on roughly Eastern US time (up about noon - bed about 3am). The only problem with this is that I either have to bow out of interesting conversations because I have to work in the morning, or I come into work exhausted because I didn't. Falls into the nice problems to have category.

On the downside though, I came in last night to find them watching the BRIT Awards. Something that I had long thought of as in my past. I remember Blur dominating with Parklife, Chumbawamba v Prescott, Jarvis etc. But I have outgrown that. I had planned to sit and read a little, and perhaps follow the BBC2 Folk Awards on the red button, but plainly that wasn't going to be allowed. And yes, I could have gone upstairs and kept myself to myself. But I do enjoy the boys' company. So instead I turned into my father. "Call that music?" "Oh, I know the original of that one ...." And there is some real talent out there. Nile Rodgers of course. Pharrell Williams also. But some I didn't know. The guy out of Bastille can really sing. So can Ellie Goulding but she sounded like she was outside her comfortable rang, so there wasn't enough power to compete with a thousand drummers.

And there were some entirely expected things too. Katy Perry without Autotune is not a good thing. And rockers from Northern cities who try to be sophisticated and cryptic come across as pretentious wankers. And comics trying to satirise the whole sleb-culture that they are part of tend to die on their arses - even if they have sorted out their tax affairs.

So, as you can tell, I ended up getting into the programme - and even more so Twitter's reaction to it. Catty, unpleasant, roaringly funny - it provided a splendid backdrop to the evening. So nice to know that in thousands of homes across the country, so many of us are doing the same and thinking the same - from wondering why Lorde came dressed as Edward Scissorhands to wondering why James Cordon. (Not why anything - just Why?).

So I can't say my evening made me feel particularly enthusiastic about the state of British music, but British humour is thriving, and we should all be thankful for that.

Turner

Before I start, I was mesmerised this morning watching Randall Monroe's latest cartoon on XKCD here. Doesn't relate to the blog in any way, but do have a look, it is strangely beautiful - to me anyway.

So - a day off today, making a long weekend. Like to say I've done lots, but no. Waiting in for a delivery of flooring (due anytime from 8 - 5 and it's now 15:43...). Have managed to catch up on one or two domestic chores, and had a bit of a rest, and read a bit.

On Saturday I went to the Maritime Museum at Greenwich, which had an exhibit of Turner's seascapes. I struggle with visual art often - I struggle with a painting being better or worse thought of because it is by x rather than y, and on what 'good' means. But the little of Turner I knew suggested I would like it. I was surprised to find his smaller sketches and watercolours much more engaging than the big set piece oil paintings. The oils were I am sure technically brilliant, but the sketches seemed to have so much more life to them - particularly the ones of whaling and whalers.

Whilst in Greenwich, I had a look at some of the other exhibits. I guess most museums have to aim at children now, but there was little to engage an adult. I came across a small exhibit around the East India Company. This is something I know very little about - the Mutiny and, well, that's about it really. But this was a business, operating with all the effective powers of a state - with its own navy and armed forces. Exactly the sort of thing that people worrying about happening today as the power of the nation is seemingly eroded. A book has now been found and I will be working to improve my understanding.

Family and Friends

Well, I said at the beginning of this I was going to avoid politics. I failed last time - miserably. And you lot reward me with the biggest readership figures I've had all year, and lots of positive messages. Thank you for this. Your feedback is important to us. And having caught a little wave of popularity, I'm going to ignore it and write about something completely different. But I will get back on the political hobby horse, you'll just have to wait.

Half Term begins - and an extended weekend break - I am off Monday, and will be spending time learning stuff for the next Voxcetera gig, catching up on admin and some reading (and writing) and attempting to play "Simon Smith and his Amazing Dancing Bear" on the piano. I suspect the last of these will prove the least successful, and the least entertaining for the neighbours (though the Britten I'm learning could run it close on that one).

I managed to catch up with a couple of friends today - one over lunch and one for a quick coffee later on. I don't do this kind of thing often enough - just catching up without it being at a rehearsal or seeing a band or watching a movie. I never really thought why this was*, until it came up over lunch.

My parents grew up in the small town of Coatbridge, close to Glasgow. They met at church I think when very young - but my father did the music for shows and my mother did the choreography (not much doubt which side I inherited). Everyone stayed local, met future spouses locally, and that was it. Everyone was always in and out of each other's houses - not just family, but neighbours too. And my parents were the first of the family to  move away - first to Edinburgh, and then to England. Now, or course, I moved too, as did many of my friends - growing up in Lytham St Annes there wasn't a lot of career choice if you stayed. But they did it in a much less connected world, and were the first. That takes courage. But it also meant of course that we didn't have that family support system.

In the first few years, I know my two grandfathers (both widowed) would come down regularly, but I suspect this was to have someone to look after them rather than to support my parents. By the time I was eight, they were dead too (life expectancy in Glasgow was as bad then as it is now). And there must have been a different friends dynamic too. If all your mates from school and college disappear to the ends of the earth, then you accept the need to travel to stay in touch. My parents' friends stayed put. Many in Scotland - one couple in Lancashire - with a young family. They were never going to stay close.

So we were on our own  The classic nuclear family. And the just dropping in and small talking didn't happen. I had a great upbringing - I wanted for nothing within reason and didn't miss other family because I never had any, but perhaps it does explain my tendency for self-reliance.


* to be honest, I assumed it was because that was just how I am - small talk is awkward, people, indeed, are awkward so why on earth put yourself through that when you can be reading a book or listening to some music.

A political one....

I have had one of those talks today at work where an external consultant comes in to remind us of our duties as directors, Approved Persons (a financial services thing) etc. It’s quite amusing to see some of the newer members of the team blanch a little if they are getting the spiel for the first time. They now realise they are in a place where it’s not the “company” that takes the blame if something goes wrong, it’s them. But you run the business; you help decide its strategy and you take the key operational decisions. Responsibility comes with the territory. Doesn't it?

Most UK governments have been keen to stress personal responsibility for as long as I can remember. I don’t think I have lived through a truly socialist government – I am not sure what the Wilson/Callaghan 1974 / 79 administrations would have been like had they not been so horribly in debt. But everything I recall has been the State as (at best) a limited safety-net; not really seen as something that would look after people of my generation.

The impression we are given is that the current government has been at the more extreme end of this spectrum. It has looked for the individual to look after him or herself, says Mr Osborne, on the grounds that the government cannot afford it. And, although this grates with me, because I have always felt that looking after the disadvantaged is the most important thing a government should do, I see their point as arguable - we are in a financial mess.

And then I heard yesterday’s announcement from Mr Cameron that “money is no object” when dealing with the floods. I am very grateful that I am not in a flood-prone area, and have a lot of sympathy with those who are, but doesn't this astonishing comment strip away the facade of affordability? 

Home-owning middle-class people (more likely to vote Tory I guess) who are probably insured anyway, get the blank cheque, whilst the screw is tightened on lower income disadvantaged individuals (who probably won’t vote, but won’t vote Tory anyway). 

This says everything about the ideological background to much of what is being done. It does seem that there is an underlying “deserving v undeserving” logic to what we are now seeing. And I can say no more than it makes me ashamed to be British.

Oh, and the Daily Mail should refer to the reply given in Arkell v Pressdram as well.

Avoiding the Idiots' Lantern

I finished the second series of The Bridge last night. Wow. No spoilers but a twisted ending. You know of course that when the plot appears all tied up with an hour and twenty minutes to go that there must be something else (unless it’s a Harry Potter movie I suppose), but I didn't see much of that coming.

As I don’t watch a lot of TV, the fact that I have spent ten hours over the last four weeks (plus six on Hinterland) on this does make me wonder what I would have done otherwise. I think the answer is that I haven’t been reading as much as I usually would.

 I've been reading widely of late - a mixture of (decent quality) journalism and current affairs, fact, and fiction of wide-ranging heritage and quality. In fact, pretty much the only stuff I don’t read is biography and self-help books. (Anyone reading this blog since the beginning may feel that the second of these omissions probably should be revisited, but I have my pride.)

And The Bridge and Hinterland coincided with having finished some book threads (A Song of Ice and Fire (The Game of Thrones) stuff, the Robert Llewellyn ‘News from’ books and a partial reread of Kurt Vonnegut (still love it).

So I had been fishing around looking for the next thing to read. I was trying to reread the ‘Mapp and Lucia’ novels (EF Benson’s light social commentary – he also wrote some great horror) especially as they were about 40p on Kindle, but just haven’t got into them yet. And TV was an obvious alternative.

Now what I don’t want to do is to carry on with the TV watching. So I will be spending some time today (in advance of about five hours on trains tomorrow) seeking out something new to read. Ideas gratefully received.

Can't be bothered

There's been quite a lot of stuff going on in the world, but I am really struggling to raise the enthusiasm to watch it, let alone to blog about it. Winter Olympics, more rain, Royals shooting things. All a bit 'meh' really.

Yesterday I did go and see a couple of friends in their new band - Sixfold. Not bad at all. The venue had all the charm you would expect from a village community centre somewhere outside Maidstone. But the band has done enough work together that it was really starting to work as a band, and not just a group of players. If you are in Maidstone on the evening of 28th Feb, then a) poor you, but b) go and check out Sixfold at Bar 10.

Other than that, as the first paragraph probably tells you, I'm in one of my 'just leave me the f**k alone' moods. This happens once in a while, with no direct cause I can ever find, and it goes again pretty much as quickly, usually after a week or a bit less. Only identifiable precursor is that it always comes after a week where I sleep badly. But there are other times when I sleep badly and it doesn't happen. So you guess is as good as mine.

The main effect is actually just a sort of lethargy - it has taken a great deal of effort to even write this post. For those of you who know me well, if I say that this is being written on my new baby laptop, and I haven't even looked at it until now, all weekend, that gives you an idea.

Weekends are definitely the hardest time to cope with this. There are people to be nice to, and no fixed routine, so its easy to do nothing - which doesn't help. Come work tomorrow I won't be at my incisive best, but will have enough to do that I can get on with and it will start to lift.

So, lacking inspiration to write about anything in particular, I will I think go and read a book, and tune back in later.

Thank you

Firstly, a very big 'Thank you' to all those who have read my blog recently, and particularly to those who have sent feedback or messages.

I spent much of today in Central London, and the Tube strike meant a lot of walking. I love to see London on foot - it is a city in a constant state of change - new buildings, demolitions, roadworks. I don't think it has the sheer energy and aggression of New York - we're a bit too nice for that - but it's still a fabulous city. Provided you can afford to live in it of course, but that's another story.

It also meant I got home a little earlier than usual, which allowed me to get to the gym. Astonished how busy it was at 6pm. So, feeling virtuous (bordering on smug), I can spend the night practicing some music, and then watch Charlie Brooker and turn in early.

This weekend I am going to see a couple of good friends' new band 'Sixfold' doing its first gig somewhere in Kent (it's not a secret - I just can't remember). And other than that, it seems like it will be a quiet one. Much needed.

Hinterland

There is a trend, probably confined largely to middle-class, middle-aged Guardianistas, to denigrate British television.

Vague memories of "1984"’s prolefeed mix with a deeply-held belief that TV was better back in the day. I’m not sure it was. I am sure that for every ‘Are you Being Served?’ there was a ‘Mind Your Language’ which memory has kindly obliterated.

Because much modern television is undoubtedly banal, and aims at a fairly low lowest common denominator, we have decided it’s all just as bad. And we have sought solace overseas, generally via our favourite TV channel – BBC4 –slogan “it’s just how BBC2 used to be*”.

We all have our own favourites – The Killing / Borgen / The returned (rare Channel 4 entrant there) / Spiral. Right now I have a burning admiration for Saga Noren from Bron [the Bridge - see below]. And her Porsche obviously.

And when we are being particularly pretentious (or as my 18 year old son would have it, “w*nky”) we use the foreign name for the show – “Les Revenants is much darker than Forbydelsen”. And we roundly decry any attempts to remake them in English.

You know, re-reading the above, it sounds exactly like at least two girlfriends from my past and their obsession with “world” cinema. What have I become??

Well, the news is that we don’t have to go that far for our fix of quality with a foreign slant. I was fortunate enough to be tipped off about a BBC One Wales series called “Hinterland” or (to be w*nky again) “Y Gwyll”. 

This is a five episode series set around Aberystwyth which was shown in January in Wales, but was up for a while on IPlayer. And it was pretty much a Scandi-drama. Brooding landscapes, brooding and troubled lead actors, an impressive array of beards, great weather, gruesome crimes.  

The series was done both in Welsh and English, which adds to the mystique – and reminds me how God awful my Welsh is these days. Anyway, it’s not on IPlayer any more, but the BBC has announced that it will be shown on BBC4 later this year, and that there will be a series two. 

So watch out for Hinterland – proving that, even if only in a remote corner of our isle, the Brits can cut it with the best of them.

  

* But without the weird Open University hippies doing calculus

Sick of being Ill

I recovered OK from my migraine, but have been desperately tired this weekend. And not due to partying hard - or indeed partying at all. Tired enough that I went to see the doctor this morning. Take a guess as to what he said:-

Predictably it's probably a virus that will clear up in a week and if not, I can get some blood tests done. Take some paracetamol if I want to.Which is probably right on a statistical basis, but didn't make me feel much better.

Now I'm starting to wonder exactly what my symptoms are. This morning it was just tiredness. Then someone at work asked if my joints were aching - 'flu-style? I said "No" - because they weren't. But about half an hour later, I thought they might be. Probably psychosomatic but you never know, I could be bedridden by this evening. Send sympathy, flowers, grapes or what you will.

So I'm trying to make my way through a working day which is dominated by meetings and calls with the US - with the concentration ability of a goldfish with dementia. This is a pretty normal working Monday, though worse because it's also the first working day of the month which always leads to stuff needing talking about. And normally, I don't like this kind of day, because the calls don't keep me hugely engaged, and I fell I am wasting my time - so I get bored. And, just to give a purely hypothetical example, I start doing something else, like blogging.

Given I have no brain power today, I'm just sitting here, struggling to concentrate enough that if anyone asks me a question I can answer it. It's like school all over again.

I'm hoping I perk up quickly. We have a tube strike starting late tomorrow, so I really could do with a bit more energy to go schlepping around London. Tonight or tomorrow, I'll be blogging about Hinterland - and other Welsh stuff.