Category Archives: Editorials

Two rednecks, some cougars and a tiger walk into a bar…………

April 19th, 1998 was the day that I overcame my deep-rooted fear of cats.

A ginger moggy bit me quite badly when I was a toddler; this was undoubtedly the catalyst for what would eventually become an irrational mistrust of cats. This wariness was also something that I had in common with my Father who a general disdain for all things feline!

Back in ’98, I was 20 years old and had visited the States for the very first time to begin my overseas long distance romance with Amy.

I was very privileged to be invited to visit Linda and Mark’s place up in the Ozark Moutains in Missouri; the couple were friends of the family (that’s the short version!) and had a gorgeous amount of rural land up in the moutains which they had dedicated to rescuing unwanted exotic pets and former circus beasts who had outgrown their irresponsible owners. To be fair, it was probably more acurate to say that they had their private zoo!

Amongst their flock, they had several Cougars (two of them lived inside the house!), a brown bear called BJ, some turkeys, a cranky old wild cat and the big attraction; Saben, a Siberian Tiger who had a recesssive gene (he was orange/white mixed).  I felt a kinship with Saben, after all, I have a recessive gene of my own.  It’s called non-brown!.

I think shyness at the prospect of meeting new people made me retreat a little into the bubble that I lived in back then; I had absolutely no idea what would await me as I walked up into the courtyard………several huge beasts were nervously stalking around in their cages having a good smell at the newcomers. Amy, her Mom, Fred (Amy’s Stepfather at the time) and myself.

I can remember being in complete awe of Saben as I approached him for the first time. He was beautiful and utterly majestic, lying confidently in his domain. As I approached he begin making a huffing noise, similar to that of a horse……as I walked closer still he suddenly reared up, slammed down both his paws and briefly roared at me at point blank range. At that time I was only separated by a very flimsy looking cage fence.

I can still remember being frozen to the spot as the inhuman deep bass tones of his roar shook my insides; his head had opened up to an impossible size and I got a bloody good look at his serated teeth. I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to! It was a test, eventually he accepted me and put his nose up to the fence so that I could put my hand there for him to smell. He really was just a big, big, dangerous kitty!

SABEN AND I

SABEN BEING FED

As you can see, I was still pretty wary (even with the fence), but the true test was yet to come!  I was fascinated watching Saben being fed; he ate pieces of chicken like they were wafer thin!!!

The next morning, we checked out of our motel and headed back to Linda and Mark’s for breakfast.  There I had spicy biscuits and gravy (the food of gods!) and was ‘introduced’ to the two Cougars who lived in the house, I was so on edge it was untrue; knowing that any second they would be let out of their room!

They let the young female out first, she was very cautious and not aggressive at all.  I thought she was beautiful; then they let Mikey out!  An extremely boisterous and playful male, who rather enjoyed getting up behind you and putting his paws around your neck to pull you in for a playful bite!

Here’s the whole experience anyway!

THE COUGARS

I think my fear of cats was ripped out of me that weekend; the whole experience was mindblowing and I am very lucky that Fred recently sent me the recording again.  It brings back so many wonderful memories; think Amy was much braver than I in retrospect!?

Try not to laugh too much as I go pure white with fear in the moments before their release; or when Mikey paws my glasses clean off my face!

Don’t worry, it’s not the end of the world!

Mr. Harold Camping predicted that the World (and life as we know it Jim) would end in 1994; God almighty would finally call time on the sins of humanity and proclaim Judgement Day. Obviously, that didn’t happen; the dead did not rise, the seas did not boil; but I started my A Levels in 1994 and bought ‘Definitely Maybe’ by Oasis.

Not deterred by this ‘minor’ set back; the silly old bastard decided to have another crack at predicting Armageddon and set a date for 21st of May, 2011. Hang on a minute, that’s today?!?! Bettery check out the window folks……..

New Zealand was meant to be one of the first Nations to sink into oblivion; thankfully, they’ll still alive and kicking and Peter Jackson will finally get around to making ‘The ‘Hobbit’ now; I would have been majorly pissed off if the World had ended and I didn’t get to see Smaug in all his magnificent glory!

It is well documented that I am an Atheist; however I have always been very intrigued by how much people believe in the medieval concept of Doomsday; especially in these modern times?

Personally, I hold much more faith in the theory that we need to unite as one race and bugger off onto different planets if we are to survive as a species. Dr. Stephen Hawking might look a bit limp in his chair and sound like a ‘Speak N Spell’ but he’s got my vote.

The fact that a large group of people said their goodbyes last night and readied themselves for what they believed was going to happen…….made me a little…..sad. I didn’t pity them, I just felt a little disappointed that another human being would be so quick to give up their lives because they believed a misguided old man; who at 89 years of age, probably thought he’d be dead by now and wouldn’t have to look utterly stupid when his prediction didn’t come to pass. Again.

Funnier still are all the people who are openly scoffing at the prediction all over the net; yet presumably some of them are also Christian and believe that someday Judgement Day will come? Which is itself a little ironic? No?

So there we go, I’m off to take the dog for a walk up the park and enjoy being an insignificent random anomaly of the Universe.

Lawrence of Arabia’s Brough Superior SS100 Motorcycle

I noticed this beautiful piece of machinery walking to the back stairwell inside the Imperial War Museum last week; the SS100 motorcyle was owned by T E Lawrence (A.K.A. Lawrence of Arabia).

Lawrence’s last SS100 (Registration GW 2275) was built in 1932 and capable of running to speeds of 100mph; aside from the film (which is one of my favourites) I was intrigued by the cycle itself. Beautiful British engineering, dual exhaust cans, not a lot has changed has it really? All custom made, even the handlebars were unique.

Looking into his death (caused by a motorcycle crash), it appears he was instrumental in the scientific study that eventually lead to the development of the crash helmet. You can clearly see why this particular part of his legacy is not exactly common knowledge.

Wish I had taken more footage of it! Gorgeous bike.

Trip to Oxford (Wednesday)

Brett and I ventured out to Oxford by train whilst Amy continued her adventure in Liverpool; the train journey out from London Paddington took about an hour in total, gorgeous green fields ran alongside yellow Barley crops and washed away the dirty smoggy streets of London of yesterday.

I had been very much looking forward to this trip because Brett and I were on equal footing; neither of us had been here before and it was going to be a new experience for both of us.  Arriving inside Oxford train station I noticed a tourist information booth and we quickly signed up for, yes, you guessed it, another tour bus ride!   Wooohoooo!!!  £13 all day, hop on, hop off, great value!  All the whilst my face enjoyed another day of glorious sunshine!

Oxford really reminded me of the city of Winchester; beautiful architecture at every turn, history everywhere you looked, and brick lanes in the town centre.  It was gorgeous riding around and seeing everything as we went.  The colleges and grounds associated to them certainly held their own interest, but I loved the simplicity of how the town functioned around the tourism and for all the splendid gardens in and around the city centre, not forgetting the canals that also run through it.

3 times we went around on the tour bus.  3 times!  We hopped on, hopped off, it was fantastic value for money; as was the rack of BBQ ribs we enjoyed in ‘Giraffe’, a restaurant near the bus station.

The only down point – The young ‘juggling’ gentleman who kept dropping his flaming batons, not so good………..

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Brett’s trip to London – Part 2 (Tuesday)

Amy went to Liverpool on Tuesday to visit some friends; which left Brett and I to explore the Tower of London!  It was another cracking day of sunshine, not a cloud in the sky.  25 degrees celsius?  Ding dong!

After 4 hours of touring the tower we had a ’99’ ice cream down by the Thames .  Was fun seeing the Crown Jewels, the Armoury (note the ‘u’ in the word armoury please!) and we both walked along the battlements whilst I indulged a ‘defend the tower!!!’ scenario in my head.   I loved visiting the Tower of London as a kid, it certainly seemed a lot smaller this time around for some reason!  Probably something to do with the fact that the average person back then was something of a shortarse 🙂

TOWER OF LONDON

Our next stop was the Imperial War Museum; Mum took great delight in telling me that the museum used to be the local Asylum back when she was little, which kinda creeped me out a bit! I did love walking around her old stomping grounds though, wondered what it must have been like to grow up like she did in post-war Britain.

The Imperial War Museum rocks, the huge guns that are situated outside immediately set the scene and brought out the sort of wonder that I remember having as a kid about the place.  Brett found a piece of the Berlin Wall outside which was cool to see, the slogan ‘Change your life’ is sprayed over the surface of the wall in graffiti.

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM

I was stunned when I walked into the museum itself, there are planes hung from the ceilings, a V2 rocket, a doodlebug bomb, a WW1 tank, Montgomery’s desert tank and the cockpit of a Halifax and Lancaster Bomber.  I found it rather amusing trying to get around inside the Halifax bomber; I simply could not fit and it is for that same reason why my Mum’s father was restricted to being on AA guns and could not be a pilot (in the RAF after the war).

We sadly had to cut our Holocaust exhibition short because the museum closed (bugger!), but we saw enough.  Man is capable of much evil…….

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM SLIDESHOW

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We trudged off from North Lambeth back up to Green Park where the whole of London had parked themselves onto deck chairs, from there we walked down the final part of the Mall up to Buckingham Palace so that Brett could visit Queen Elizabeth II.  I think my feet were just about ready to fall off at this point so we sat on Queen Victoria’s memorial by the fountain and took in the sights.    This explains why I was chatting utter crap by this point.

LOITERING OUTSIDE BUCKINGHAM PALACE

Brett’s trip to London – Part 1 (Monday)

We arrived back from Normandy on the Sunday evening; so it was pretty amazing that Brett and Amy managed to get up on Monday morning, let alone tackle a full day of sightseeing!!!

I enjoyed seeing Brett’s facial expression change as we emerged up the staircase from the tube station into Trafalgar Square, Amy had her ‘Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and the matching fridge magnet” face on whilst we both watched him tackle his first souvenir stand.

BRETT IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE

BRETT CLIMBING ONTO ONE OF TRAFALGAR’S LION STATUES

An open top deck tour bus tour thankfully did all the effort whilst we sat listening to a Geordie tour guide churn out informative facts (and bad jokes) about London’s many historic landmarks and places of interest.  In reflection this was most definitely for the best because London was heaving with tourists ahead of Friday’s impending Royal Wedding between Prince William and that plain looking brunette chick; that and the fact that it was about 25 degrees Celsius, a mini Easter heatwave!

I very much enjoyed doing the rounds on the bus, we fitted in pretty much a weeks worth of sightseeing into a few hours before popping off to Oxford Street to tackle Primark.  Brett and I managed 10 minutes before we walked out, purchases complete.  Amy managed almost 45 minutes before being equally repulsed by the swarms of shoppers trying to find a shirt for £1.

We finished off Monday with a Cockney walk along the SouthBank and mediocre dinner at my favourite Thameside pub before heading up to the London Eye.

SOUTHBANK

I love being up on the London Eye; the sun had set and central London was lit up in breathtaking fashion, had to stiffle the odd chuckle whilst a group of enthusiastic Italians exlaimed “BIGGIE BENNIE!!!!” when the old clock came into view.  A brilliant end to a fantastic day out!

SLIDESHOW

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Normandy beach pilgrimage.

Growing up as a child, I was absolutely fascinated with the bravery, resilience and innovation of the British armed forces throughout World War 2; largely due to the fact that my godfather, Alfred George “Joe” Martin, was a member of the Royal Marine Commandos.

Joe was an extremely humble man with a dry wit, unlike any other that I have known in my lifetime.  He was a beautifully generous and affectionate man who seldom spoke about his wartime exploits; save perhaps for the occasional quip regarding exaggerated Hollywood war films or about members of the British Royal Family.  I loved how he scathed the wannabes who paraded around displaying “more un-earned medals than they had brain cells”.  I remember him being particularly cynical about Prince Philip (Queen Elizabeth II’s husband) who must have fought in every single conflict, ever, to earn the medals he carried on remberance day.

I often used to sit with Joe and relentlessly pressed him for information about his time in Europe during the war.  My favourite ‘story’ told of his part in the D-Day landings at Normandy, and of how his unit were sent in early to knock out German gun emplacements and fortifications.

As part of the 1st Special Service Brigade, No. 4 Commando took part in the Normandy Landings in June 1944. Landing on Sword beach 30 minutes before the rest of the brigade, their first objectives were to capture a strong point and gun battery in Ouistreham. After the commandos eliminated these positions they rejoined the brigade, reinforcing the 6th Airborne Division at the Orne bridges. Before the invasion the brigade had been informed that they would stay in France for only a few days. The commando remained there for a further 82 days, protecting the beachhead’s left flank. During that period, No. 4 Commando endured over 50 percent casualties. Finally withdrawn to Britain in September 1944, they were reassigned to the 4th Special Service Brigade for the assault on Walcheren island. At the end of the war No. 4 Commando became part of the occupation force in Germany, but together with all other army commando units were disbanded in 1946 (Joe’s Naval discharge papers show that he was discharged in March 1946).

I can still remember the sadness in his eyes as he recounted the experience of riding through the waves in the amphibious landing craft before wading into the sea and trudging onto the beach; only to be greeted by German sniper rifles and machine gun nests.  I was fascinated as he described the much feared dive bombing Stuker (he could still remember the screaming sound as the aircraft dived to attack) and distant sound of Panzer tanks being pushed back towards Caen.  Or as he described it, “hell”.

It was always my ambition to visit the beaches of Normandy and pay my respects to all those who took part in the name of freedom; the opportunity finally came when my beloved Amy and her younger brother Brett told me they would be coming over to visit; Brett also had a lifetime dream of going to Normandy (after reading so much about the history of dubya dubya 2).  So plans were made and off we went!

It was only fitting that we boarded an overnight ferry in the City of Portsmouth; the very place where the Allied forces left to invade France.  As we headed off, we passed by so many of the decommission British warships that I remembered seeing on a visit to Portsmouth as a child; it certainly set the tone!  The accomodation on the ferry was surprsingly comfortable, bunkbeds and a shower felt like luxury when I pondered how those brave souls must have crossed the English Channel!

We arrived into the port of Caen (Ouistreham) at around 6:45am local time; dawn.  I spoke to a very helpful woman in tourist information who politely encouraged us rethink our plan to visit Utah and Omaha beaches (U.S. forces landing sites) due to the fact we’d need to rent a car!   Brett really wanted to go to both sites and I really respected the way in which he accepted the disappointment of not being able to do so.  I expect this to be ‘part 2’ sometime in the future!

After much deliberation, we decided to go for a walk along Sword Beach (British forces), Juno Beach (Canadian) and Gold Beach (British forces).  To prepare, we had a traditional continental breakfast in a local restaurant in the port town of Ouistreham before getting a cab to the Canada Hotel in Hermanville-Sur-Mer (cheap, clean and highly recommended), dumped our stuff and off we strolled.

I felt genuinely taken aback by the sight of the calm sea once we had made it through the vast array of different French houses that adorned the beachfront.  Dozens of morning joggers and cyclists wished us “bonjour!” as we sat around taking everything in.   I stood watching a local fisherman as Brett filled a bag of sand to take back home for a U.S. WW2 veteran that he knew; we both took off our shoes and socks and walked in the shallows of the bitterly cold water.

JUNO BEACH

We eventually reached Gold beach at 11am, when all of a sudden the sea swelled dramatically and waves started to crash in; I managed to get a little of this on video (below) before running to higher ground (ha!).  A local man came over to me and told me in French how the sea would do “battle” like that each morning at that time for all of ten minutes before returning to the serene calm that we had seen before it’s arrival.

THE ‘BATTLE’

I was genuinely touched by how friendly the locals were and of how grateful they were for the liberators; it reminded me of how warm I found French people to be towards us in Cassel (Flanders) and also how Belgians were towards us in Ypres when I was a kid.   A stark contrast to my experiences of Parisians.

Our stay at the Canada Hotel was great value for money, that night we made a rustic meal after a visit from the local supermarket; the salami definitely disagreed with Brett!

We checked out the following morning and walked down from Juno Beach to Sword Beach and I felt complete knowing that I had finally retraced the footsteps of my Godfather; it was a humbling spiritual experience and one that will remain with me always.

Joe passed away on January the 14th, 1993; I still treasure all of the wartime momentos, medals and keepsakes that he entrusted to me when I was about 11 years old.  He was my own personal hero and inspired me to write the lyrics of ‘The Otherside’ when he died.

This entry is dedicated to his memory, and for all those who gave our lives securing the freedom so that I can waste my own life in the manner of my choosing.

SLIDESHOW

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New bathroom

The gloss paint has finally dried on the skirting and frames in our bathroom; the bright white finish is definitely the proverbial icing on the cake for our sparkly new bathroom!

A couple of months ago, our bathroom had a bath instead of a shower and was somewhat ageing and dilapidated; I had lost my personal war of mindgames against the impossibly small sink that resided within it’s walls (still maintain that my Dad bought a sink that size to wind me up) and felt enough was enough.

I decided to use some of my savings to update it because I felt I owed it to my parents to do something about it. I felt it would be a good idea to install a shower so that Mum would benefit from it now she’s getting on a bit AND a shower is always an amazing feeling when you’ve been out on the bike in the summer (me, not Mum)!

It was quite a project, initial feelings of excitement lead to stress and annoyance at the endless debris (the dog got an eye infection from the dust) which made the house seem more of a building site than a humble abode.

My brother Brian is used to building sites because he’s an electrician by trade; he managed to bang out the old bathroom and fitted the new one in just over a week; which is nothing short of astounding because it’s the first time he’s done something like this.

I take my turban off to Bri because I’m utterly useless at such things; I even had trouble going into Travis Perkins (timber supplier) and ordering the wood for the shower plinth because I’m a spastic and can’t read simple building instructions……………..2 lots of 2X4 at 2meters………..I mean come on, what the fuck is wrong with my noggin?

I did contribute a little; I threw out the crap and did my usual OCD-driven tidying up thing, brought in all the supplies from B&Q like an Anglo Indian donkey, cut a few tiles here and there and did all the painting; but Brian did EVERYTHING else and deserves every bit of the credit for a great job.

Looking back, it’s all been well worth it and I am so chuffed with the result and wanted to put up a thread dedicated to all the work my brother has done.

Take a bow my son!

VIDEO OF COMPLETED BATHROOM (Available in HD).

SLIDESHOW OF CONSTRUCTION

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