'Hat? Check! Shades? Check! Harmonica?....'

Time for one of my occasional social trips out and about. It was my friend Simon's 30th birthday. Venue: unimportant. Theme: 80s fancy dress. And what glorious fancy dress it was! Luckily, a fancy dress shop has popped up near to my home, undoubtedly catering to student revellers, but very handy nonetheless.

All the usual choices (Darth Vader/ Scooby Doo/ He-Man) seemed promising, if a little pricy. But it'd need large amounts of alcohol to get me out the door. So, I opted for the cheap and easy ('and conservative' as Ellen intoned) option of being one of the Blues Brothers. Hat, sunnies, skinny tie and harmonica: 10 pounds all in. Nice! And, as an added bonus, I wouldn't feel like a penis riding down to Guildford on the train!

We arrived at the venue 10 minutes before the main partygoers. Will never forget the sight of them marching down the alley to reach the venue entrance below me - it looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland. Here are some of the pictures of the outfits concerned. My friends and I dressed in bright finery like the peacocks we all aspire to be.. ;)

I love how Simon skulks in the back of shot looking like something out of 'Alien'.. oh and yes, Harry bought exactly the same Blues Brothers 'outfit' as I did.. before you ask...

Simon as a Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle with Ellen. Simply the most wondrous fancy dress costume I've ever seen.
Check out my extra long right arm!

Mark as a Ghostbuster, with proton pack. He seemed a little miffed his outfit was not the grey of the movies. Maybe it's their away kit or something. I look like some sort of blind, Mafia jazz musician.

Feelin Blue for a Friend

More vagueness I’m afraid. I’ve written truthful and honest comments in blogs gone by and got in trouble with them so apologies about the lack of clarity. Again.

Working for The Man as I do is a thankless task. It is the people who sit beside me who make it worthwhile. ‘D’ is a case in point. His crude levity is infectious, and he’s the only person who has ever made me cry with laughter at work. A unique occurrence, I’m sure you’d a agree..

‘D’ is the geezer with a heart gold. Behind the chipper manliness lies a surprisingly deep exterior. He’s a guy who takes the lighter approach to life, often floating along on a cloud of bonhomie that people cannot help but warm to. Such a demeanour often gets the attention of the ladies and ‘D’ has had many office successes apparently. Of course, a gentleman never tells so he kept ‘em quiet. Until, that is, the fragrant ‘H’ walked through the door. Bubbly, pretty and with a fine figure, how the men’s heads were turned! Some of the single lads tried their luck and failed miserably before ‘D’ came under the radar and got the girl!

How happy he was. Despite his blokeish bluster it seemed he seemed keen to settle down. The 3am sessions were curtailed and the simmering levels of testosterone abated. ‘H’ moved in, ‘D’ was the Lord of the Manor and regularly getting some action. He had arrived and become the man he seemingly craved to be.

Things got even better! I remember the day he told me ‘H’ was expecting. Sitting at his desk with a broad grin and legs wide open – a statement of macho fertility. They hadn’t really been trying but hadn’t NOT being trying either. Either way ‘D’ was in top form, he had the girl, he had the house and he would soon be having the little one to go with it. So life was looking pretty peachy from where I was sitting.

So the days and weeks went by. ‘H’ had the bump and the glow to go with it whilst ‘D’ was showing off his baby scan pics to interested parties. However things changed, ‘H’ was in less and less, she was signed off work and gradually ‘D’s cheery countenance just wilted. Gone was his banter and cocky strut, replaced by a blank stare and slumped shoulders.. something was obviously up.

Yesterday, a full story of sorts arose. ‘D’ and ‘H’ had gone their separate ways and the former was gutted. Word was that ‘H’ had been a little Machiavellian in her approach but ‘D’ was in pieces. All his dreams were shattered – no more visions of the family sitting round him at Xmas, loving wife and children nearby. He was alone again and I feel terrible for him. He’d escaped from his previous hedonistic lifestyle and seemed to be revelling in making the next step in life. He’s now back to single life, but with an estranged e-partner in the mix and a baby on the way too. I’ve discovered how rewarding a family life (of sorts) can be, to have it the prospect of it waved around in front of you and then cruelly withdrawn must be the most gruelling of blows.

And what follow in its place? Fleeting visits with an indifferent son or daughter every other weekend? A belligerent ex-partner and the inevitable power games that follow? That' ll be even more painful in the long term I reckon…

Huh????!!!

Ever have those moments when the brain will just not function the way you want it? I’m not talking due to tiredness or overindulgence here. Im talking about when things.. just..don’t work properly. Day to day interactions become a chore and the mind shows the equivalent of the TV test card. Used to be a regular problem for me as a kid. My parents would often be required to give me a nudge in polite company to bring my mind back from the rambling mental journeys it would take. Still happens from time to time nowadays, especially after going for a run. Ellen sees the faroff look in my eyes and asks worriedly ‘Are You Alright?’. Must look like I’m stoned or something..

Still, Ive kept most of these senior moments at bay in recent years. Must be a legacy of my laid-back demeanour or something. Stress does not come knocking very often so I guess that my mental spark might take longer to come into being sometimes. At least that’s what I’m thinking. If all that adolescent smoking caused lasting damage I wont be happy.

You know the feeling. During face to face communication the mind starts to wander like a balloon floating on the breeze. For me it can take a tremendous act of will to nail that bugger down and keep focused on the matter at hand. Caffeine has been an ally in many cases, keeping my mind ticking over in an orderly fashion. However, I can’t go walking about trailing an IV on my arm forever and my de-caffineated state doesn’t always win favour. Case in point my evening with our terribly organised and no-nonsense chiropractor in the gym. She rattled through her price structure twice with me and my colleague but the figures just would not stick. Queue much frustration from her and much sheepishness from yours truly. Its interesting, she used to be a Major in the British Army (at the age of 29!) where being the mental equivalent of Fred Astaire is compulsory. I, on the other hand, am more mountain goat than skilled hoofer.

And that’s a problem. My serene mental state sails along unhurriedly whereas it needs to be more punchy at times. I don’t have to mix it with business-like former military sorts the whole of my life, but it’d be nice to thrive in their company if I had to.