I blame George Michael!

Armageddon
Can you see Bruce's helmet?

Not that I watched it, but I think that Armageddon was on telly recently.  This is a film which plays out a scenario of the world being threatened by a giant haemorrhoid, sorry I mean asteroid, whilst Steven Tyler screams in the background.  There are many films about the end of the world, and being from Hollywood they tend to use scenarios that are ideal for the big screen.  Deep Impact, if I remember correctly was an almost identical film released around the same time.

I suspect when the end of the world comes it won’t be battled by Bruce Willis, and accompanied by an aging rocker.  In reality, I suspect it will present itself in a more subtle way, that may well sneak up on us all.

Perhaps that sneaking has already started, or maybe it is just Christmas proving to be too much for our over stretched infrastructure, fraught nerves and creaking overdrafts?  Or is that just me?

Whether this is the end of the world, or just a slight over reaction from me (never!) things are looking a little worrying right now.

We are all painfully aware of the financial meltdown of recent years, and what could be a more telling sign of impending doom than Woolworths going bust?  Surely a portent of darker times ahead?  In response to that a new government have been elected, who have immediately used the “oh it was all a lot worse than we thought” line to rip up anything said pre-election, and begin to undertake all the usual actions that we saw last time they were in, but had promised not to this time around.  I don’t want to make this a political thing, as I’m sure that whoever had the poisoned chalice this time around would be doing very nasty stuff to us.

Other signs that Bruce better get his vest on are more subtle than this.  It is clear then, isn’t it that the eco-system is on the blink, as we have had several flakes of snow country wide, and this naturally has been more disabling in the UK than real disasters are around the globe.  Earthquakes in LA, bush fires in Australia and floods in Asia get around seven seconds on the news, but if it ices over somewhere near BBC HQ, we have 24 hour rolling coverage of events for seven days.

Media City
Soon to be the centre of the world

Soon, the BBC and ITV will have large chunks of themselves in Manchester at Media City.  This is just over the road from my desk/office, so I look forward to such coverage of the chaos and disaster in years to come at Salford Quays when the temperature dips below zero.  Bound to happen right?

All the chaos from the snow has been heightened of course by the on rush of Christmas, and the madness that this brings.  Without extreme weather (well, it is just snow but hey ho) Christmas will make most people behave strangely.  We’ve all fallen victim to the last minute panic buys in the run up to the big day haven’t we?  The shops will be shut for around 36 hours, but still, if we don’t get that jar of Hollandaise sauce, then the whole festive season will be a disaster.

Airports around the country are full of people wanting to be somewhere else, and it seems six inches of snow disables the entire travel network.  Families sleeping in foil sheets in public buildings would surely be a scene from a “The Day After Tomorrow” sequel?  The Day After, the Day After Tomorrow….this time it affects Christmas!!  I copywrite that idea immediately, and expect to get a greenlight on that project sometime in the new year from Spielberg.

Then add in smaller catastrophes, like Skype not working.  This, I admit, is not in itself a disaster.  Indeed some of you may not even know what it is.  However, the time of year again heightens the impact of this thing breaking down, when it seems to have been running fine for ever.  Skype is basically an online tool for talking to people, over the internet, for nothing.  Those with relatives around the country and indeed globe, will be relying on Skype to communicate with those over Christmas, mainly as the poor buggers can’t travel home as the entire travel infrastructure is broken.

So either the end of the world is nigh, or Christmas is just a bridge too far for our fragile, overly complicated world these days.  (By the way, as long as A Bridge Too Far is on telly over the festive period then all is well with the world again, no matter what else happens!!)

I have a theory though.  Perhaps all of this is a sign from God (or whoever you believe in) to give us a message, nay a warning.  And what might that warning be?

I can’t say for sure, but I think he is saying something like….

“Armageddon really bored of the same dozen Christmas songs being played back to back for four weeks again, and I am going to keep breaking things until you abandon them or you cancel Christmas altogether”.

So this is something for Noddy Holder, Mariah Carey, Shakin Stevens, Wizard and all you other one time a year PRS cheque getting types to think about.  Please, let’s retire these “classics”, even for a year or two.  Why not hire the brightest and best songwriters we have, like you know, The Cheeky Girls or David Guetta to write some new ones.

If we don’t, then each year will only get worse and we only have George Michael to blame.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Christmas, I am only sulking mildly this year as I have no holidays left to take, and have to work through it, whereas in the past I take a full two weeks off.  In a way, what is there not to like about it?  It is a time of year when overeating is mandatory, and you get given stuff for free.  Right up my street, I think you will agree, but really if I hear Noddy tell me “It’s Chrrrrriiisstttmas” one more time, I may have to track him down and undertake some sort of dirty protest on his Christmas lunch table.

Apologies for the inevitable return to Meldrew-esque ranting……I put this Humbug style post down to the horror of being in work right up until the day, the stress of living in a scene from Auf Wiedersehn Pet, and having no definitive plans for (or chance of) a summer holiday.  I’ll get my coat…..

Till the next time…..

Lost in 3,000 fringes.

Youmeatsix and Forever the Sickest Kids. Whatever happened to sensible band names like what we had?? Kagagoogoo, Bow Wow Wow, They Might be Giants and of course The Goombay Dance band.

Youmeatsix signing
what do you mean you've never heard of them???

Friday saw two very excited girls travel to Manchester to not only watch, but also meet one of these “bands”, and to say they enjoyed it would be like saying I enjoy a buffet. An under statement of huge proportions (did someone say huge portions?).

However, as with most things in life this did not run entirely smoothly. Having had weeks of build up to this event, with daily countdowns (honestly, who is so sad as to countdown to an event like that!!), and preparatory trips to Manchester earlier in the week to secure the required golden (well , purple) wristbands to ensure entry in to the signing, the girls were a little excited.

So when my phone rang around 3.30 pm on Friday I was greeted with a hysterical Rebecca, who after repeating herself a few times, I managed to gather that she had lost the tickets!! It took me a good five minutes to calm her down, and for her to breathe again, before I conducted an operation akin to air traffic control to find out where they were.

Louise’s mum had met the girls after school to pick up all their school stuff, and take it back home so they did not have to go to the gig with their school bags or indeed in school uniform (this was not an ACDC gig). So I had Rebecca on my mobile making wailing noises, whilst I called my mother in law on the landline, at our house to try to locate the tickets.

It took a little while to explain what was happening, and even longer to communicate that they did not look like tickets, more like A4 pieces of paper….cos that’s exactly what they were!! Anyway, to save you the twenty minutes of stress and panic, eventually they were located inside a school book, deep within Rebecca’s school bag, and the day was saved. Rebecca got the tickets and made her train with minutes to spare.

As well as the photos here, you can, if you really want to, see the full album on a popular social networking site, although you may need to befriend Emily to do so.

Emily called me at around 5.30pm, hysterical for entirely different reasons, as she had just been met and hugged by Max and Josh from Youmeatsix. The exuberance of youth!!

Josh Youmeatsix
Josh, singing, not signing.

Roll on a few hours, and I am the designated pick up taxi for Rebecca and her friends (Emily was going back to sleep at her friend’s house via another taxi/parent). Our cunning plan to co-ordinate pick up locations was scuppered by Rebecca’s battery dying on her mobile almost as soon as she arrived, so I had to park the car up, and take my almost forty, obviously someone’s Dad frame into the sweaty masses as they poured out of the main entrance.

All Stars
Same difference

Stood amongst the obviously quite illegal fake merchandise sales folk outside the Manchester Apollo, I quickly realised that all 3,000 attendees of this event looked almost identical. Large fringe, checked shirt, skinny jeans, All Stars and a backpack. The chances of recognising my own daughter were slim, and what seemed like an eternity passed before Rebecca had the brains to phone me using her friend’s phone and tell me she was stood right behind me, across the road at a bus stop.

The journey home was a loud one with the girls still in concert shouty mode, as they regaled me with tales of (insert Band member name) doing something cool. My iPod was hijacked, and the likes of Hall and Oates, Jellyfish etc were banned as we had a playlist (DJ’d by Rebecca) of Youmeatsix and other similar looking types.

As if all that wasn’t exhausting enough, the weekend continued with Rebecca attending the X Factor Tour at the MEN on Saturday. Her new friend (Vicky, keyboard player in her band) invited her as they had a spare ticket. As cool as Rebecca obviously is these days, she returned with a Jedward poster, claiming them to be awesome. Oh dear.

Perfect Strager Poster
Poorer for the lack of white vests

Us normal old folk stayed in on Saturday and watched Perfect Stranger, with Bruce Willis (not a vest in sight) and Halle Berry. It was watchable but the film did not really live up to the cast, and Louise didn’t make it to the end before having to retire to bed.

Sunday of course, like nearly everyone in the UK, was dominated by the paying of homage to respective Mothers. In our house this looked like Louise and I being up before the kids, me wrestling Emily from her pit to come and give Louise her card and presents, and then a day of cooking.

First of course I delivered my breakfast speciality, of Eggs Benedict, before spending most of the day making Moroccan Lamb, as reciped by Jamie Oliver. Louise and I had this some time ago at our friends (Mike and Amanda) so we thought we’d give it a go. Our prep was less than perfect, as this entailed me being on the phone to Mike in Tescos on Saturday trying to remember the 312 ingredients, lacking a pen and paper. I did OK, and when reunited with the recipe on Sunday, I only seemed to have forgotten the fennel seeds, which surely cannot be essential to any recipe???

There was a lot of prep, and for some reason it turned out way too spicy for our invited audience (Mum, Dad and Louise’s Mum) so we had to do some remedial work at the last minute to calm it down. I enjoyed it anyway, and Louise’s Mum was only at A&E for an hour or two!!!

With what turned out to be a very hectic weekend behind us, we crawled to bed very early on Sunday and watched the Lost Boys, followed by a recorded Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. This was a cruel trick to play on my mind. Watching a programme so clearly linked with the start of the weekend on a Sunday made for a very confusing end to the day. I could just do with another Saturday and Sunday right about now.

Till the next time….