Templates, dam templates.

So I have just spent the last two hours changing the templates on my blog again, again and again. I think I've taken myself to the edge of sanity and beyond. The result of all these hours is the layout you see here. If anyone out there thinks it's rubbish, for fucks sake, keep it to your self. If however you like it, let me know, my ego can take it.

It strikes me as yet another example of my ability to complicate the fuck out of everything I touch. Its not that I set out wanting to, I just do. Anyho, it is what it is and that's all that it is.    

which cannot fail.

"There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance - that principle is contempt prior to investigation.

I'm a real lover if the above quote.

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So, people read this then?

I was chatting to a friend yesterday who said he was keeping up with my blog. He went on to say his Mrs reads it and finds it quite amusing. I've got to say, every time someone says anything like that I feel a little surprised. Deep down I still have that bit of doubt in myself I guess.

The other thing I usual feel is fear. You see as long as I simply blog and think no further then that, I'm OK. The moment I start thinking about who reads it, I'm in trouble. It's in my nature to look for a quiet life and within that I have no desire to upset people. In fact what I really want is for people to like me. Problem is, in the real world that ain't never gona happen. Not with everyone.

So, what's the answer? I guess it's as simple as keeping on with what I keep on with. For-sure it's great to hear people read this blog from time to time, even that it can provoke a smile once in a while. But, it is what it is. Rule 62 springs to mind, don't take yourself to dam seriously.

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No Maico 490

Just been spending a bit of time trudging through some on-line stuff and stumbled across a my space account I set up in 2006. I remember doing it thinking I'll give this on-line stuff a go and see if I can get on with it. Believe it or not, It was only around this time I set up an email account. Skip forward to 2010 and I can honestly say without Twitter, facebook, Blogs etc, etc, I'd be most perturbed. Not to mention laptop, desktop, iphone, wifi, the list goes on and on. It looks like I've turned into a bit of a geek and I've got to say, I like it.

I guess I've always been a fan of cool stuff and lets have it right, a lot of the tec out there is cool to the extreme. Obviously, if it's got an apple on it, it's a bit cooler. Few could argue with that, could they? But what about all the other stuff? Believe me when I say the world of cool tec related on-line stuff just keeps growing and growing.

But what about the days before the multi core processor, the laptops carved from a slab of aluminium with a light drizzling of unicorns blood? What did we have before? The old folk would have us believe all that was needed to impress was a small stick, possibly with a screwed up bit of newspaper to fashion a ball of sorts. This, in my experience, is bollocks.

For me the first real bit of tec that got my attention wasn't what you would really call tec at all. In fact it was a moto cross bike. In 1981 the Maico 490 stepped into my word. Louder that thunder with a engine scream that would put brown moist spots in the pants of even the hardest of hard men. It was a bastard of a bike to start, a pig to ride and a fucker to keep down. But Jesus was it fun.

We don't hear much about the Maico 490 any more. Maybe that's because most of the people who loved it, were killed by it. Or perhaps the way it vibrated at full pelt shuffling your internal organs like a deck of cards in hands of Paul (Debbie McGee!!!) Daniels had it's affect. I don't know, what I do know is my days of mounting such beasts are well and truly over. And I've got to say Im OK with that. So now I sit surrounded with tec in my happy little world. No Maico 490 and no moist brown pants.                 

 

Tuesday Jim.

"Suddenly the thought crossed my mind that if I were to put an ounce of whiskey in my milk it couldn't hurt me on a full stomach. I ordered a whiskey and poured it into the milk. I vaguely sensed I was not being any to smart, but felt reassured as I was taking the whiskey on a full stomach. The experiment went so well that I ordered another whiskey and poured it into more milk. That didn't seem to bother me so I tried another."

I've always been a fan of Jims story. He was so very simply fucked long before he walked into the diner that day. It shows me that although what I do today is important, I still need to concider tomorrow because chances are, it will turn up.

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Frothy emotional appeal

Frothy emotional appeal seldom suffices. The message which can interest and hold these alcoholic people must have depth and weight. In nearly all cases, their ideals must be grounded in a power greater than themselves, if they are to re-create their lives.

I love the fact that seldom is used in the passage above and not never. Sometimes, just sometimes frothy emotional appeal will suffice. It may not last for very long, but it's a start and a start is all some of us need.

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Heroes

I've said it once, and so help me I'll say it again Jack Bauer is one cool dude. In the word of fantasy and make believe a hero is so very, very important. I guess we all have then, heroes that is. But who are they? Who are the real ones? I know one thing for sure is that they change over time. Mine used to be people like Steve Austin (The Six Million Dollar Man) then as time went on they changed. I could go on to write a long long list of TV and move stars, musicians and like.

But what about the real people? The world of make believe is of-course a wonderful thing but we can only live in it for so long. It seems to me that searching for people in this world to look up to is not the important thing. Maybe the important thing thing is to try and be someone others can look to. I'm not talking about being perfect, nor a hero to one and all. Just doing the best we can, just trying, that's all. My heart was truly touched a few days ago when me and Mrs D were talking about our little boy Jack. "He's a real Daddy's boy she said, your his hero" That's amazing, I hope I can live up to it.      

I don't want to sound morbid

Been finding myself thinking about death quite a bit today, not in a particularly morbid way, just thinking about it. Obviously at the ripe old age of forty two I've experienced the loss of loved ones and friends alike. My Mum died quite a few years ago shortly followed by my Grandad and then my Nan. Years of drug abuse and even my years in recovery have put me in a position to see friends and people I've know pass away. What I've been thinking about is the way I behave, the way I cope when the inevitable happens.

At the moment a dear friend of mine is going through some really heavy stuff with his partner. It feels like I'm close enough to re connect with some of the feelings I've had in the past when I've lost loved ones. For-sure it's uncomfortable, to be honest the thought of death frightens me. I don't want to die and I don't want people I know to either. But I will, and so will they.

Like I said, I don't want to sound morbid. My blogs, like me, are mostly of the cheery type. I'm starting to think that although often very sad, death is not the end of the world. Unless of-course its you that's died. What it is however, is a certainty. It will happen, sooner or latter it will.

So where has my day of thoughts about death left me? I know when I'm feeling sad about someone whose gone, its all about me. How could it be anything else?  But ya know what? that's OK. It makes no difference, the point is I'm sad and it hurts. The real damage to me comes when I fail to acknowledge Im hurting, when I think its not OK to cry when I need to. The less I've tried to bottle everything up, the less I've needed to. Its about as simple as that.          

clio car

So at long last a replacment for the Micra has been found. My workcar is now a Clio. It's of a similar ilk to the ledgend that was the Williams Clio, similar in so much as they both have wheels and a Renult badge.

The mrs tells me that she now finds me sexy again, on acount of me no longer being a Micra driver. My belief is she's one of the closet Micra folk who could never admit the power and majesty of such a might motor car, but always wished they had one.

Either way, the Micra is gone and the Clio is now here. Long live the Clio and rest in peace the little red Micra.

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A foot

Something is a foot! I've always thought that was an odd statement, yet It's one of many I enjoy using. I like the cut of your jib is another. That's all, nothing more intellectually challenging then that really.

Are these extravagant promises?

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves. Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them. (Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 83-84)

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As you understand.

Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find and join us. We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. May God bless you and keep you until then.

As many of you know, the above is take from the Big Book. For those who don't, it is. My point is this...... For the love of God, don't get hooked up on the God thing. Let's all try and remember the importance of "God as you understand God" Within that we can all find freedom.

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The search continues

So my search for the replacement of my dearly departed Micra continues. I've got to say the people i'm meeting along the way are both entertaining and annoying at the same time. I seems people with a car to sell are like that. Today's "seller" was no exception. Nor might I add was the 1999 Metro he had polished to within an inch of it's life.

She's a great little runner he told me, going on to point out just how shiny the British racing green body work was. Bless his little lying heart when I started to ask him about head gaskets and over heating problems. He simply told me that didn't happen on this model. After I gave him a short description of the K series rover engine, the reasons behind it's need for a new head gasket all to often and the fact that this was exactly what lay before us, he yet again refereed to the shiny paint work.

OK I said, lets go for a little run and see how it goes. I was keen to at least get the fan to cut in and have some water pumping around the thing. Alas, this was not to be. Dispute today's chosen "seller" booting the little 1100 down the road. The heater remained cold and the fan wouldn't cut in. In a last ditch attempt to make the sale, he drove me back to his car Lot.

As we got out the "sellers" partner in crime mooched towards us keen to point out what amazing paint work the little metro had. By this time I was just about done. I highlighted the years I spent valeting cars going on to say that the old line about no being able to polish shit, was in fact a load of bollocks. I also pointed out that who ever did this one had missed a bit and the wheel arch had polish left on it. Then I left the shiny little car for the next person. If it's you, take my advice, and remember, shit really can be polished.           

My nearly week off

Well, that's it, my nearly week off work has come to an end. I've got to admit I thought by now I would be all to happy about going back to work. A nearly week can be a mighty long time in my house. However, I happy to report this is not the case. In fact I'm nowhere near as keen to get back to the old grind stone as I thought I would be.

Turns out I actually get on quite well with my wife most of the time, and the time I've been able to spend with Jack has been most excellent. We did almost nothing I planned, and that worked out to be a good thing. Simply we spent time as a family, even leaving the car stereo off from time to time. The result? a fairly stress free nearly week.

So will I go back to work rejuvenated tomorrow, full of beans and ready to take the day by it's love spuds and give em a good shake? I think I might, I really think I might.

The replacement

So, as the result of my recently deceased Micra the search for a replacement has been on. A simple task I'm sure you must agree. The insurance company paid out within a couple of  weeks so all I needed to do was pick up a new motor, happy days.

Bollocks is it. Seems the world of second hand cars is a tad on the iffy side to say the least. Obviously once a car is put up for sale something deep down inside the seller clicks into lying, conning rip-off bastard mode. Now I'm not totally dumb, I worked in the motor trade for a few years and I know how it is, but I'm not talking about traders.

I went and looked at a car today. The dear old gent sat in his mobility scooter telling me what a gem of a motor it was. Bless his lying soul, he even went on to tell me how I couldn't go wrong with such a solid reliable piece of machinery. 100% reliable he told me.

As I climbed into this nineteen year old Fiat panda the words solid reliable piece of machinery flashed through my mind. A flick of the key and she spluttered into action, popping and banging as the whole mat black body shock with disgust. Through the smoke I heard a faint voice shout "nice runner, eh?" He then seemed to slip into a voice loop repeatedly requesting me to push to choke in and give her some gas.

Dispute the offer to take this fine piece of Italian wizardry out on Her Majesty's highway, I shut the bastard thing down and fled whimpering I'll let you know. No worries he said, If you decide to have her, she won't let you down. Seems to me this dear old chap is a bit of a fucker, quite a bit of a fucker actually.

Needless to say, I sit here tonight car-less. But the day really hasn't been a complete loss. The point isn't, nor has it ever been about other peoples honesty. I can't do a single thing to change the way they behave. What I can do is ensure I treat each and everyone with contempt and suspicion at all times.

If only it were that simple. I have to trust people in my life, I need to be able to give folk a chance, roll the dice once in a while and get screwed over every now and again. It's a bitch I know, but this is the world we all live in and all in all, it's not that bad.