It’s funny how you forget things. A couple of days back I was writing about my lame brushes with fame. Then this morning another memory flooded back into my mind.
My Dad took me on a train to see a charity cricket match. My first ever game. I think I was about 8. It was one of those matches with former cricketers, celebrities and a few local club players. It was a decent turnout of stars so a large crowd turned up.
Some quite well known former Yorkshire and England players with one huge star. One of England’s greatest ever fast bowlers and larger than life characters, Fred Truman.
At the end of the game my Dad told me that I would like to get Fred’s autograph. That was news to me….. Handily Dad had brought an autograph book and pen. Almost as if the autograph was for him…. So I was sent off to obtain the signature while Dad finished off his beer. A bit later I came back with various scribbles, one was definitely a TV celebrity – Leslie Crowther. But no Freddie.
That clearly wasn’t to Dad‘s liking and he decided to help me now. After much looking Freddie was located. He was in the players changing room. Next thing I knew Dad had pushed me through the door with clear instructions. Your not going home until you get that signature….
I was surrounded by men in various states of undress…. All appeared to be drinking. No sign of Freddie. So I asked. Freddie was in the showers. So yes I did get the great mans autograph. When he was completely naked. How could I forget that…..
Dad was happy. I never did see MY autograph book again….
Wow how times have changed……
I’ve had my brushes with the famous but on a really MINI scale
We were watching a silly comedy movie when one of the characters starting talking about all the famous people he had met in his life. Presidents, Popes, Hall of Famers, Astronauts….. you name it, everyone.
“Dad as you are about 50 times older than he is you must have 50 times as many famous encounters than he has…”
Sometimes even Hawklad can’t keep the smirk from his face before he has landed the verbal punch….
Ok here goes. My attempt to be 50x more exciting than that comedy character.
- I once was smiled at by a beautiful international tennis star, kind of. We were walking in a small town in Switzerland when Anna Ivanovic walked past me and smiled at me…. Well actually she smiled and waved at the blue eyed toddler who was holding my hand. But that counts.
- Years back I was out for a run when a bus pulled up and this rather familiar looking lady stepped out and asked if I knew the way to the local concert venue. I gave her the directions and it wasn’t until later that I passed the venue and saw the poster. Thankfully I had correctly directed Alison Moyet to the venue.
- The former 6ft4 England Rugby captain once stood on my toe while I was waiting for strawberries at Wimbledon. I think the price of the 5 strawberries was far more painful than the trodden toe.
- I was training at a gym in York when the world snooker champion came onto the mat next to me to do sit-ups. Bizarrely Ronnie O’Sullivan had a broken leg…..He was playing in a major tournament in the city.
- At school we played cricket against a boy who would go on to be a fast bowler for England. Paul Jarvis. We lasted 4 overs as a team and got bowled out for 11. I bravely scored 8 of them. Two boundaries. Actually both were attempts to keep the 90mph ball from hitting me in the head. Paul Jarvis got 8 wickets. One lad refused to go out to bat. My claim to fame is that he never got me. I was bowled out by a spotty face kid who was barely strong enough to hold the cricket ball. He slowly bounced the ball down the pitch, I took the biggest swish with bat, missed and on the fourth bounce the ball trickled sadly into my wickets.
- I once got the former European footballer of the year, Kevin Keegan to sign my arm. I didn’t have any paper…
- Peter Ustinov walked past me once.
- Some of the cast of the hit TV show Auf Wiedersehen, Pet stood next to me at a bar before a Newcastle United game.
- I once patted the backside of the famous racehorse Red Rum.
- When I was at college I picked up the courage to ask this girl to dance with me at a nightclub in Middlesbrough. She unsurprisingly said NO. But one minute later she said yes to an international footballer. Bernie Slaven.
- Michael Caine might have or might not have sat at my work desk when a spy movie did some filming one weekend at the computer firm I was working for.
- In my very early 20s I had been visiting friends in London. It was early Monday morning and I was making my way back home. I was stood on the tube platform looking an absolute state. Long, uncombed hair, unshaven, metal T-shirt, holes in my tight jeans. Next to me was this immaculately dressed old man in a pin striped suit and bowler hat. He kept giving me one of those LOOKS. The great unwashed look. That chap was Enoch Powell. A famous politician. Former Member of the Government. The person who made one of the most infamous and racially charged speeches in British political history. Clearly he wasn’t impressed with me. Which is ok as I was giving him a real Paddington Bear stare back…..
That’s it. That’s my encounters with the Presidents and Popes of the world. Took me about 2500 years to do achieve all this. But it’s my own brush with fame….
A day outside in the – wait for it – warm Yorkshire sunshine……
An afternoon of outdoor table tennis. An afternoon of losing my pride. It’s never been my sport. One of the few sports I can’t pick up.
“Dad Table Tennis is a MARVELlous sport. You do know the sport should be played like a game of chess. Carefully moving your opening around the table until an opening appears. That’s the idea. Your approach Dad is basically the Avengers Strategy. HULK SMASH…”
No need to mess about with the delicate strategy. Why waste time when with one massive swing of the bat you can immediately move to the ENDGAME
“But Dad you are supposed to play with VISION.
Ok I’m out now, you win the pun war. Pick up your crisp packet. If you do then you can be scaAVENGERS hero.
“I never THORt of that one Dad. Best keep the envIRON MANaged. I wonder if anyone else would understand these puns other THAN US.”
Lets not forget the stereotype. Asperger Kids don’t have a sense of humour and can’t have fun ……….
I’ve been trying to practice yoga and tai chi for months now. I diligently watch and follow the videos. All the really glossy and professional videos. I was trying again this morning. Following the instructor through her perfect routine. Even her dog sits beside her perfectly. Never moving. In the background the gentle sound of peaceful music. Perfect.
Meanwhile in deepest Yorkshire.
A muppet is seamlessly moving from one body creak to the next groan. Losing balance and crashing into furniture. Constantly fearing my pants are going to split under the galactic pressure being exerted on them. Every time I hit the ground a mad dog instantly leaps on me and I replay the Bill Murray Ghostbusters scene – I’VE BEEN SLIMED. And no gentle sound of peaceful music here. Rather the sound of derision and laughter….
“What on earth are you doing Dad”
“If this was on TV it would be banned”
“You look a right sight”
“Funnier than a Will Ferrell movie”
“Say that again Dad. Golden Rooster. More like drunken Pigeon”
“Are you supposed to be balancing on one leg or head butting the wall”
“My Dad has turned into Homer Simpson”
“Please never do this when any of my friends visit”
“Your just embarrassing yourself now”
Technically speaking this probably means that I still have a long way to go on my spiritual exercise journey. Or more likely …. time to get the mega pack of biscuits out and vegetate.
Some things in life are naturally beautiful and guaranteed to make you smile.
One of those days. Not enough sleep. School at home was a pain in the buttocks. WordPress continued to act like an incompetent evil overlord. An upcoming concert I was really looking forward to (which had already been rescheduled from last year) was cancelled. Smashed some cups (unintentionally). THEN Hawklad decided to walk into wooden table and clearly has broken his little toe. At least I can see evidence that some of my genes have passed down the family line. Nothing we can do except get him to rest up for a few days.
So in need of distraction I decided to strike one item off the growing DIY list. Let’s put the external mail box back on the wall. Much drilling, much banging, much muttering, much screwing. The mail box was up. Not a bad job at all. Level and well secured. Shame it was upside down…… Not sure what the Postman would think of a letter slot at the bottom. Not the first time my DIY has taken a walk to the a Southern Hemisphere. Summed up the day…..
On days like this those things that make you smile are even more important. Even more treasured.
Technology is definitely trying to take over. On the last post I did about ‘Sunday’s’ my autocorrect was clearly not impressed with the overall message. That would explain its desire to change every SUNDAY to SUBWAY. That would give that post a very different feel. But hang on… Is it on to something.
Maybe I’m missing out on a real money spinner. Product placement. Hidden advertisements. How much would SUBWAY pay for some subliminal advertising. Maybe it’s not too late to dream of that apartment overlooking Lake Lucerne.
WORDPRESS is really playing up. Randomly refusing to accept any editing and posting the first, rough cut of posts. Refusing to let me comment or like on some sites. Messing up the formatting. Deleting comments and removing some of my posts. Unfollowing without telling me. So frustrating that is MARS my day. What a great idea, I fancy a really healthy and tasty chocolate bar.
We soldier on with WORDPRESS. So the school at home week starts again. The last one before the Easter holiday. No actual holidays this break again. No trips to the hills and FjORDs. No need to hire a fine FORD car. At least I won’t need to worry about cutting my hair. No SAMSON nITEmares at the barbers required. But if I was going on holiday I can’t think of a finer brand of luggage to take with me than SAMSONITE.
The NEXT benefit of no holidays is I don’t need to do any holiday clothes shopping. Shopping to the wonderful and certainly not overpriced NEXT clothes stores…
But a couple of weeks will hopefully allow me to catch up on some MARVELlous DISNEY offerings. Enjoy the wonderful story telling and the hidden alLEGOries. More time to play with our LEGO sets and never stand barefooted on those really value for money LEGO mini figures.
Anyway that’s enough of me waffling on. I will get back to my grAPPLEs with WORDPRESS. But I can’t think of a finer technological platform to fight those battles on than APPLE. Thinking often requires a large amount HEINZ -sight.
There’s tired and there’s TIRED.
I don’t sleep much but even I struggle to function on one hours sleep.
I was trying to wash the bedding this morning. A task clearly beyond a ZOMBIE. I did remember to put washing powder into the right tray. Well kind of. I did pick up a box which was the same shape and size. It didn’t register that the powder was brown and biscuit like.
Yes the bedding was washed with Cat food. That’s TIRED….
Thankfully I don’t work on a Nuclear Power Station….
I’ve always loved winter sports. Definitely my favourites are biathlon, ski jumping, skiing and ski cross. One of my dreams is to see it in person one day. Still waiting….. November to March is great as I get to binge watch it on TV. But when March comes it’s always quite sad as soon the season will be over. No winter sports for 7 months.
That thought has been praying on my mind. 7 months is a long time. What to do.
I’ve looked for some Winter Sports DVDs and Books but there isn’t much about. So I have a stock pile of 3 books and one dvd documentary. Plus one game on the Xbox. The probability of our family lockdown continuing through those 7 months is really high. With no trips out. No runs. Just feels like I need more this year to keep me going.
“Dad what are you doing?”
I’m trying to see if I can do GARDEN biathlon.
“Really. It looks like you have gone mad…”
No there is method to my madness. I’ve dug out my two old walking poles. So to pretend I’m Nordic skiing I’m going to use the poles to walk round and round the garden. About 30 times round the garden is about 1km.
“Ok how long is a biathlon thing then”
Going to start small first. The Spring is 10km with two shoots. So I would do 100 laps of the garden between shoots.
“I think I can see what’s coming next but ok, why have you got my Nerf Gun.”
Well after 100 laps of the garden my pulse will be racing just like a Biathlete. So I will need to control my breathing and steady myself for the shoot. Ok I don’t have a rifle and five circular targets. So I’m putting some tins on the fence and I’m going to try and knock them over with your foam Nerf bullets. For every miss I will have to do a penalty loop or in my case 5 garden loops. The first shoot will be prone and the second will be standing.
“OMG Dad. You have cracked.”
So from April one of my daily workouts every week will be my Biathlon competition.
“You have lost the plot”
Most probably Son, most most probably. But just be thankful I’m not trying to recreate Ski Jumping. 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣
Running on empty last couple of days. Even the simple tasks are becoming complex. You know you are in for along day when you nod off during the first school at home lesson. The lights went out midway through a sentence explaining Factor Trees to Hawklad. All before 10am.
Here’s the ultimate irony. A tired muppet Dad who wasn’t even trusted to keep the score in Pub Darts matches now trying to explain maths to a kid who has just got 38 out of 40 in his term mathematics test. Talk about feeling out of my depth.
Which is how I feel when I venture into the world of poetry. Yes I’m sorry it’s that time again. Head to the panic rooms my friends. It’s poetry..
It’s poetry Jim but not as we know it…..
It’s really Terrible Poetry time. Time to have a go at Chelsea Owens Mused Poetry challenge.
Phew! After last month‘s hilarious entries, I had a bit of trouble thinking of what our next venture should be. What to do, what to do…
Let’s try an oldie but a goodie: A Funny Love Poem Inside a Greeting Card.
Most greeting cards can’t hold a ballad, so a few stanzas ought to do us for the Length.
I’d recommend rhyming. I mean, you are serious about this love interest, aren’t you?
Yes, this is love (or something like unto it) but the Rating‘s PG or cleaner. After all, some kid might stumble across your offering while trying out all the musical cards.
Only in stories do lovers say all the right words, remember every birthday and anniversary, and get just the right present. We are not writing a story, here, we’re writing a humorous poem. As such, make us laugh. Laughter’s the best way to a person’s heart; right?
And, as a side note, whoever said this was a card expressing love to a person? What if you’re more fond of a juicy cheeseburger? Just a thought…
You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next MONTH (March 5) to submit a poem.
When you lie in double bed all alone
Experiencing a completely love free zone
Feeling like a discarded out of tune trombone
Your only company is a smelly dog and farting cat
Feeling as popular as flea ridden rabid fat wombat
But maybe today that Hallmark card will land on your mat
Bringing much needed kisses and expressions of affection
Offering a few sweet moments of romantic misdirection
Which is always better than a bad case of fungal infection…..
Warning this post contains some disturbing baking images.
This house had an idea. Some next level pancakes….
Not content with messing up normal pancakes let’s go a stage further. Pancake sandwiches. So what filling could we go for?
Chocolate biscuits. Carefully warmed chocolate biscuits. How hard could that be.
Erm…. As Spock would say ‘it’s a chocolate biscuit filling Jim but not as we know it’.
After a number of other shocking tries we finally produced this….
We can officially call this a warmed chocolate biscuit filled pancake sandwich.
The message here. If keep throwing punches, you might be the worst boxer ever, but eventually one will land.