Christmas!

Whether you like to admit it or not, Christmas is now coming up fast on the rails and will soon be among us.

It's a strange time for me; for many years, as a musician, I worked over Christmas and saw it as a mega pay day. I was sober on New Years Eve as well (can't play with any alcohol in my system) as you lot all partied.

I've also never been one for the joy of present giving to be honest. In most cases we give people stuff they don't really want and, in doing so, spend money we can ill afford.

I know what you're saying now "grumpy bastard" but truly I'm not.

When I worked I loved Christmas. All the effort that went into parties and New Year was excellent.

Prior to working at some extraordinary venues where money seemed to be no object I had struggled through the Christmas of 1978. Hard times with no money sleeping in a bedsit waiting for the big break. That Christmas, in London, was supposed to be dire. On Christmas Eve I walked the West End watching people having a great time when I didn't even have the price of a pint, my Christmas Dinner was an egg mayo sandwich and half a pint of milk.

But, strangely I enjoyed it. Maybe it was the pain I enjoyed, I've no idea really, but I still have fond memories. I was alone in London, I didn't see anybody or even speak to anybody for the five days surrounding Christmas. Yet somehow it seemed safe and comforting. Nobody had any expectations of me and I had none of them. My friends up in Yorkshire were partying like crazy but somehow I was happy to be alone. I'm weird I know........

Now I'm retired I don't work at Christmas or New Year. I have them at home. Normally mum would come down but with her passing in the Spring it's just me, my wife and whoever from her family turns up (which is currently looking like nobody).

I love to cook at Christmas, I do the lot, all the trimmings, that stuff.

But this year there'll be the two of us so I found myself looking at the Waitrose Christmas food catalogue and thinking I should let somebody else do the cooking. Now this does seem weird.

Having everything delivered, just warming it up. That's not Christmas is it! Well it appears it is. And this is what I have to look forward to for the coming years.

So suddenly Christmas isn't a time for self flagellation, nor a time for work, it's just a dead spot in the diary.

And that's sad. I have no intention of becoming one of those sad bastards who goes on a cruise (I worked cruise ships for five years). Or of finding some romantic restaurant where we can be crammed in with too many other people whilst the staff stay happy and the chef shows how much he loves producing standard Christmas fair instead of his normal fabulous creations. Staff working Christmas Day while folk party just love it!

So I guess we could climb Kilimanjaro or walk to the North Pole but it's just not me. We could lay on a beach (sounds a bit better) and take in the rays somewhere obscure but none of the above floats my boat.

Christmas will be rubbish this year, got to fix it for next............

Thinking myself thin

Over the years I've collected a few additional pounds. I dislike being overweight intensely but struggle to deliver on my occasionally formed pillar of good intentions. So I stoically hold on to the extra 20 or so pounds that straddle my middle and strangle my self confidence.   

Travelling back from Greece on Friday I encountered all manner of shape and size. From the worryingly thin (is she ok do you think) to the grotesquely fat (shouldn't she be made to buy two seats) and I begin to wonder if I am alone in my self flagellation about the undesirability of my shape. Am I the only one being emotionally destroyed by my fat cells?

To be honest, I know I'm not alone, there are loads of people who constantly delude themselves about their ability to govern their weight and then suffer emotional humiliation when they finally realise they simply don't have any power over it at all.

But what I do marvel at are the hoards of overweight folk who seem utterly content to be porkers. 

On the plane I sat opposite two girls in their mid twenties, both massively overweight and already, at such a young age, having embraced the black leggings look - fat of face, chubby of hand and enormous of arse. There was also a simply huge woman, so large she could only navigate the centre aisle sideways and then with a squeeze; I have no idea which poor sod sat next to her but it must have been excruciating. And yet, all these ladies seemed happy and relaxed. They showed no embarrassment for how they interfered with 'normal' folk trying to go about their business and (probably) showed no embarrassment when exposing their flab on the beach.

Yet my obesity causes me angst everyday. I look at myself in the mirror and think about what used to be. I constantly beat myself up for not sticking to my food goals, I insult myself verbally (in my head) I refuse to buy new clothes even though the ones I have are falling apart and I can afford a new wardrobe. None of this does any good.

My wife tells me I look fine (I don't, she loves me so she lies) and just to be content like all these fat folk we encounter every day, but I can't and she knows it. I'll just have to read a few more rubbish science papers and quack diet books before realising that all I have do is eat less and move more. How simple is that! Well, regrettably, it's nigh on bloody impossible. But we live in hope.

So, over the next few weeks I'll rediscover that counting calories is the thing, that eating as much as you like as long as there's no carbs really sheds the pounds, that fasting every third day is our natural state and reflects our primeval diet, that staving yourself for even one day panics your body into storing fat and makes you more inclined to illness. Of course what I won't do is admit my angst to my mates.

You see, whilst women seem to talk about their weight worries openly and constructively, men don't. If I admitted my concerns to my drinking buddies down the pub they'd look strangely at me and then say "well lose some weight then you fat twat" or some other highly constructive words.

And I can't do with the power thinkers either. Middle aged men in Lycra (MAMILs as they are wonderfully called) are simply hummungeoius twats who seem to have anger issues and a point to prove. Then there's the guy who's 60, still runs 5k everyday and is built like a whip - am I alone in hoping he dies before me so I can look smug?

The fact is I, like most men, don't understand what we can do to change. Unlike women, men have no stomach for nonsense yoyo diets that plainly don't work. It needs to be simple. 

I have to get back in shape for my own sanity and I've resolved to do the following:

steer clear of carbs, they are clearly evil. I'll also dump the starchy stuff

exercise a bit. Not running that's just dumb, but I'll get back in the routine of doing sit ups and lift a few weights

swim, I like swimming and there's always the chance of seeing something pleasant in a bikini so we can live in hope

Sleep more, evidently getting a good nights sleep is good for your metabolism. Don't know where I read that but who's going to argue

And stop eating sweets, chocolates and biscuits. Tough one that

You'll notice I didn't mention beer. That of course would be a step too far towards being one of those sad thin people who can get into skinny jeans but have nowhere to go once they've done it.

Probably the three fat ladies I encountered on the plane are lovely, bubbly sorts. When they're not eating that is........

Smoking is good for you?

I'm a smoker. I like to smoke. Unfashionable I know but there we are. I've stopped three times since starting almost 40 years ago, once for 12 years - so I don't take shit from 'former smokers' - I simply tell them they're never out of the woods.

The first time I gave up (3yrs) it was in protest at the price of a packet having gone up to 50p, given they're now about nine quid that seems churlish but it mattered at the time. The second time (the long one) was when my kids were little and the last time was six years ago (2year abstinence this time).

I won't be giving up again (unless they make it illegal) and here's why

During my life I've seen smoking move from being what everybody did to being something that pompous twats now feel able to moan about. I can't smoke indoors because Roy Castle's wife invented passive smoking and big business loved this trashy pseudo science so much they created an agenda that GP's then happily 'confirmed' by bending health figures. I am clear, and so should you be, that passive smoking is a myth - it's like the tooth fairy, it makes some people happy and others slightly wealthier.

Airlines loved banning smoking. Like businesses it reduced their cleaning costs but, in the case of airplanes it allowed them to turn down the air circulation systems - the air in the average airline cabin is now ten times as dirty as it was when smoking was allowed on planes- but the airliners save a fortune while you catch colds.

I also used to get terrorised by my GP. He's a fat lad and I finally snapped and said that whilst I was 20 years older than him I'd be prepared to race him down the seafront and I guessed I'd win. We don't discuss it anymore, I still smoke and he's still the size of a house - we are both comfortable with our existence.

Then there's the stuff about how we smokers cost the NHS loads of money. This also is a terrible lie. We die early, the savings in geriatric care and pension provisions when added to the tax revenue on cigarettes actually amounts the five times what the NHS has to spend on us. We are not a burden we're a revenue stream!

My dad smoked, he was a professional - 80 Capstan Full Strength a day (for the uninitiated trust me that's serious smoking). He loved life, liked his beer,worked hard and died of cancer when he was 69. My mum neither smoked nor drank, at 86 a consultant told me she had the heart and lungs of a lion and would live to be 100. Twelve months later she didn't know who anybody was except me but her internal organs were still going to take her through another 10 years or so.

I decided I'd rather go like my dad - that's when I started smoking again.

So I smoke, I like smoking. I won't be preached at or have some prick screw their nose up when I spark one - good chance I'll break that nose for you if you push it too far. 

Every year 'science' decides they got something wrong. Generally after we've paid them lots of money for their shit research and bad advice. Suddenly chocolates ok, global warming is bollocks and low fat diets are the wrong way to lose weight.

I'm living in hope they'll realise one day that smoking is good for you. But I'll probably be long dead by then......

Scotland the brave or Scotland the dumb?

So there are rumblings in the Westminster jungle as the Scots head for the polls. Interestingly I think the man who has dedicated so much of his life working for a "better Scotland" as he perceived it, Mr Alex Salmond, may well have put the kibosh on the place in more ways than he can imagine.

Perhaps he's right in his conviction that an independence vote leads to a brave new world of prosperity and internationalism, but all the signs suggest he isn't. Whether it's the Bank of England, the EU Commissioners or the UN, nobody seems to think it's a good idea on any level and, surely, all these smart folk can't be wrong?

Many Scots prefer the "Devo Max" idea but all this chatter about Scotland has educated great swathes of the English middle classes who now realise that they actually pay for Scotland's current socialist empire and are now being told to pay even more.

The thing is, Scotland delivers Labour governments for the UK; without those northern MP's we would be blue to our core, BUT general elections are won and lost in the leafy English suburbs whee the middle classes drink tea. Neither Labour nor Tory will ever intentionally alienate them as to do so is to kiss goodbye to power. And the middle classes of England are now chattering.

If Scotland votes YES today, which seems unlikely now, then none of this will matter. The UK can relax with added prosperity from no longer subsidising the Scots and the Tories can be certain of being in power for a long time.

But the likely result is that Scotland will vote NO. This then draws a battle ground which Cameron and Miliband should have seen coming but for some reason didn't. There will be calls for an English Assembly with the same powers as Scotland and Wales. The formula that gives Scots over a £1,000 more per head in state spending that in England, will be scrapped. In short, Scotland could see it's socialist universe collapse.

Ironically our esteemed leaders, camped out in Edinburgh, have promised the earth to get a NO vote - Cameron in particular seems to have forgotten that we don't have a Presidential government system here - they have made promises they can't keep and that's dishonest.

I guess my belief is that today will be a turning point for England more than for Scotland. Either way they vote the Scots are heading for hard times (ironically had they shut up and just got on with things they would have been fine) with less public spending. England may well be the big beneficiary and a slight political change on the part of Nigel Farage could see leverage being created for an English referendum to leave the UK and EU; one that I think will provide a YES vote.

So, Mr Salmond, one way or another you've stirred up a hornets nest and I'm pretty sure your country will be the big loser.

Life's weird isn't it?

Why all this fuss about Scotland?

I know that tomorrow is a momentous day for Scotland. They'll be deciding whether to stick with us lot or bugger off into the sunset. But why all the hype on the sunny side of the border?

From what I can see, whether Scotland leave or not, things won't change much on our side. Of course we lose the oil revenue but we subsidise the Scots massively and I'm pretty sure financially we'll be better off.

We'll also never have a Labour government again and we could debate whether that's a good thing or not, but, whatever your view of it, the English always vote Tory so that's just democracy in action.

If they stay then I can't see that ending well. The YES campaign is quickly turning into a guerrilla movement with violence and mob rule being claimed (some hype and hysteria I'm sure) and that won't go away surely? Do we get the Scots version of the IRA being formed? Also by staying they will start the demands for an English Parliament with the same powers as Edinburgh, and it will happen - maybe not soon but it will.

If they go we just get on with stuff while they have an exciting time negotiating with everybody (UK, EU, UN, Tesco) and I would presume getting the rough end of the stick in most of those talks. But that won't bother us. Our economy will recover (probably quicker), we'll be more likely to leave the EU and the Welsh will still be unhappy.

To be frank I don't really care whether they stay or go. I view it like a relationship that's gone bad. If they go we'll both get over it, if they stay we'll rumble on wondering if we still like each other. Resentment will abound and the English will go for broke on asserting their authority.

It's one of those things that was probably better left unsaid. A bit like when your kids are teenagers and they annoy you (a lot). It's best just shutting up because you know they'll mature in a few years.

But perhaps our little Scottish teenager wants to move out. Find their feet in the real world. That hardly ever ends well does it?

Have I got the X-Factor?

I'm currently in a lovely little spot. It's hot, and the view looks out over a bay where little houses are dotted about like salt flakes on the craggy coast. Boats are bobbing in the harbour and the sun is kissing everything it can.  And I'm being paid for being here.

I sometimes wonder at my work. Is arranging melodies and teaching folk with Karaoke voices how to maintain their vocal chords through what might be a long and arduous competition really work? Should it really pay this much? In what way does this relate to reality?

But it's big business as I keep being told. The mighty boss man turned up yesterday to make that point. Millions of pounds of advertising revenue is reliant on this little singing competition. And of course, his private jet needs paying for.

It's pretty relaxed here. No cameras at this stage, just hard work for the three acts as they learn that being a professional artist is about a lot more than picking your favourite song in the pub - and that vocal discipline is everything.

I once worked with Celine Dion. She banged out huge numbers every night for 20 gigs in a row, always in control of her voice, never straining, never pushing to that point where things crack and break. Professionals learn how to do this. I've also worked with West End singers who are expected to give eight performances a week for months on end without once cracking the voice. It's a trick (like most things) and a discipline honed over years of lessons - believe it or not most famous singers have lessons every week - but here it's got to be a fast track to survival.

Most contestants on talent shows don't even understand the basics of singing. They have good voices but they don't breath correctly or in the right places. They can knock out one great song but not every day. Learning something that takes professionals years to master in a matter of a few weeks isn't easy and sometimes it's impossible.

So my job is a bit demanding. But it's still not a job really. Nothing horrendous happens if it isn't done. Nobody dies (although they might die inside a little) and I do worry that most of the contestants don't get the fact that this is a talent show; it's very rarely a path to music glory. If you want to succeed in the music biz then, just like any other vocation, you have to work at it over years. The instant stardom given by talent shows is short lived and often has tragic endings.

But I do enjoy arranging music and I'm good at it. The show now allows for 'alternative arrangements' so I'm having fun. Teaching people who generally can't read music and, as yet, don't have the discipline to practice enough, how to deliver something special can be funny but it's also exasperating.

But as they say in show biz - it'll be alright on the night

And before you ask, no clues will be forthcoming about who I'm working with or where. It's in the contract darling!

Time for a Liberal comeback?

I've always been interested in politics but, apart from a brief spell whenTony Blair was running the shop, I've always been pretty disaffected with all of the main parties. I can remember in the 70's chatting to some chums and saying the Liberal Democrats were ripe for a takeover - they had just about disappeared from sight and were holding their party conferences in a phone box - as I always felt grabbing hold of an established party was much better than trying to start from scratch; well, it worked for Hitler......

Then they started their great comeback. Post Paddy they had the drunk Kennedy in charge, then a couple of confused geriatrics and now the EU loving Clegg. But despite being largely rudderless they've grown into something of a force.

Of course the last four years have changed all that. After twenty years of upwards mobility they are about to implode on a grand scale at the next General Election. UKIP have claimed the mantle of 'establishment position' that they enjoyed for so long, Farage is the man of the moment, and the LidDems may well be lucky to have 5 MP's post 2015.

Of course the Liberal Democrats aren't Liberals at all. John Locke must spin in his grave every time Nick Clegg declares himself a Liberal - he isn't, he is a far left social democrat who loves Europe and the nanny state.

True Liberals would choke at the thought of the EU. Nick loves it so much because he worked on making it the behemoth it is today. He loves non democratic big state manipulation,  he is 'continental in thinking' (whatever that means) and he wants to pass almost all of our democratically hard won rights over to the boys in Brussels because they know best.

The Liberal Democrat audience and support is also fascinating. Middle class, slightly wealthier than most, politically aware, economically insulated; they seem guilt ridden by their own success and want to give something back. You'll find them manning food banks and volunteering for homeless shelter duty. Not that any of them have ever been anywhere near needing those sort of services. They are members of the Caravan Club, the RSPB, National Trust Members and many do actually wear sandals and socks at the same time.

They are the politically disenfranchised, those people Ayn Rand hated, the property owning classes who want to be chastised for their own success and feel the best way to assuage their guilt is to cuddle every unfortunate or oppressed minority.

They are teachers, vets, farmers, PR Consultants and Diversity Coordinators. And vast swathes of them are retired (usually from the jobs just mentioned). For reasons of history the LibDems stronghold is in the far north and east of Scotland. I think those folk haven't yet realised the LibDems aren't the Liberal Party, in fact they couldn't be further from Liberal values if they tried.

In short, the LibDems are a wishy washy bunch of PC riddled middle class suburban folk who sign petitions and believe that matters. They have no right to use the Liberal name.....

So here's an idea. Post 2015 they'll be back to having a handful of MP's, no power and a leader who's hitting the bottle. Time for a take over.

Drop the 'Dems' bit, go back to being the Liberal Party and pick up where Winston Churchill left off. Fight for minimal state, leave the EU, protect our country against immigration blight, be strong in the world.

Funnily enough, these are all things the Liberal Churchill fought for, they are also all things that Clegg and his clowns would oppose.

It's time to take back the Liberal Party and make all it's current MP's read the definition of what it is to be a Liberal every day until they quit and join the communists. Of course, Farage is a Liberal, he just hasn't worked it out yet........