I never was any good at thinking up titles...

I've always felt that I didn't have much talent for creative writing and the following may prove this.  I wrote this poem (yes, I said poem) last week.  I have in the past been one of those people that thinks he "doesn't get" poetry and really it's taken a while for me to start to appreciate it.  Writing this poem certainly aided my appreciation of the creative form. 

The inspiration for this poem came from me wanting to express how I felt when the least favourite aspect of the fibromyalgia syndrome grabbed me.  Part of the illness is often described as 'fibro fog', a state where thinking is a challenge.  I'd struggle to remember things, I'd make many simple mistakes, I'd get frustrated.  It really made my life miserable.  It affected my work and home life for about 18 months and whilst I still get bouts of fibro fog it's few and far between.

Well...as Lando Carlrissian said "Here goes nothing."

Misty

When clarity is an aim
Dark
When light is sought to gain
The pathway is twisted
The edges unclear threatening a misstep
I am afraid

Forwards
Each movement is measured
Slowly
Every footfall controlled
A tentative progression
To a destination to me unclear
I am afraid

Voices
Seeking to distract
Fingers
Snagging and lingering unseen
My journey is fraught
Temptations towards pitfalls beset my journey
I am afraid

Confusion
Clouds my thoughts
Uncertainty
Smothering my outstretched senses
My destination moves away
The options disappear forcing me to stumble
I am afraid

Falling
Distorting my balance
Screaming
My head wants to split
Any conclusion slips further away
The maelstrom now turning me inside out

Then

Light
Warming my soul
Softness
Coddles my breaking body
Hope strips away at my despair
The sudden love lifting me clears my way
I am no long afraid

Thought for a day...or two

It's a Monday afternoon and I feel like someone has beaten me overnight and given me a big dose of tired.  How did I get in this state?  Who knows! 

I remember as a teen that I always suffered with migraines (in fact going back before that I vividly remember a few occassions that I was struck down with them).  I also suffered from multiple aches and pains which, whenever, I visited the Doctor's surgery was put down to "growing pains".  At 15 I managed to damage my back - tearing a chunk of muscles in a very agonising twist.  Since then I suffered with my back aching in various degrees most of the time.  I basically battled along with these things, got some treatment to inhibit my migraines without ever getting to a root cause. 

Then, four years ago tomorrow, I had a motorcycle accident.  A truck pulled out of a junction right in front of me.  I had that moment of many, many options flashing through my head in one go.  I knew I wasn't going to stop in time and that slamming into the side would have been like hitting a brick wall. I knew I couldn't swing the bike quick enough to avoid it.  So my options were limited to picking where I wanted to get hit.  So I swung the bike in front of the truck and let go.  I still remember the impact and flying off the bike, the crunch of plastic and metal and then nothing for a few seconds.  I opened my eyes and found myself about 8 feet from the bike, laying on the road with my head on the kerb.  I lay there and systematically went around all my limbs and found everything moved (though with plenty of pain in places) but I was pretty sure nothing was broken.  I was wearing a flip face helmet and had split my lip so there was a pool of blood forming from this.  My boss was about 2 minutes behind me in his car and had stopped to help me.  The rest of the day was spent at the hospital (nothing broken but a toe) then sat at home feeling very sore.

The following day came along and I felt much, much worse.  I really did feel like I'd been through the wringer.  I had a big collection of bruises and aches.  As time went on I found my right shoulder was extremely sore and I seemed to have limited mobility in it.  I had an MRI on it and the Orthopaedic consultant did declare that there was a little swelling but nothing permanent.  I knew all in all I'd got away very, very lightly from what could have been much worse.

Unfortunately this was just the start of things that tied all my long standing aches and pains together.  I found that despite the prognosis that things would be okay as time went by I found that they weren't.  I was struggling to get back to exercising, my back was aching badly and I was having an increased incidence of migraines again.  I decided that it was time to see what was actually wrong with my back so I got another appointment with the Orthopaedic consultant to investigate.  So back into the MRI machine I went.  And, for 23 years of aching back, what did it show.  Nothing! Nada!  Sweet FA!  My back was declared as being in perfect order - aligned, muscular structure was good and there was not a single thing out of place.  This then meant it was time to really find out what was up with me.  The aches and pains were really starting to plague me, my headaches where horrendous, I was getting more and more fatigued, grumpy and, which I can admit now, depressed.

Finally Sarah and other friends convinced me to pursue this more.  I went with Sarah to see my GP and we started eliminating things.  I started to think that this was Fibromyalgia Syndrome and the lack of anything else we started to agree.  The next step was to see a rheumatologist.  I saw a local guy and, to be honest, was not particularly impressed with his diagnosis that it was all down to hyper-extendability in my joints.  However, I went with this for a while until I found an article stating that fibromyalgia syndrome can be kicked into overdrive by a trauma, and as things started getting worse after my accident, it was time to try someone else.  I went off to see another rhuematologist who took a much better history, listened to what I had to say and gave me a thorough examination.  At the end of this she confirmed what I'd suspected for a while - I had fibromyalgia syndrome. 

I went back to my GP and started to try things to help me.  We started trying different medications to control what was growing pain and combat the fatigue.  For about 8 months I had a terrible time until, in January this year, we seemed to get a medication mix that worked for me.  I was losing on average 3 working days a week - this just added to my depression.  However, this is only my second day I've not been able to go to work in four months.

The worst thing about this chronic illness is that it has no rhyme nor reason in when I feel good or bad.  There is nothing that triggers a "bad" day for me, it just happens.  Then I have to ride out the pain or fatigue or the headache.  Then the following day I can feel "good", which of course is all relative.  There is also no signs that I can point to for family, friends or co-workers as to why I feel awful.  It's true that areas I've damaged in the past hurt worse as though the brain has decided to hold on to the memory of these injuries, but it still doesn't give me anything to show - no bruises, swellings or rashes. Most of the time the only outward signs are on my face, in my eyes, I may be limping as my legs hurt, or just generally moving slowly.  Fortunately I work with some good colleagues, have a great manager and work for a company that does, on the whole, care about its employees.

I guess my point, if I have one, is that with people there is often a lot going on that doesn't show outwardly.  Whether an illness like fibromyalgia syndrome, depression, ME or a problem that someone is carrying with them, not knowing what to do, reach out to them.  Many people feel that admitting this to someone else is a sign of weakness so show them this is not true, show them compassion is still out there.

King of Pain

Pretty much since about the age of 10 or 11 I have been a big fan of the Police. I remember unwrapping my copy of Zenyatta Mondatta for Christmas one year and needing to play it straightaway. I think the Police have a great sound. The trio of Sting (Gordon Sumner), Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland playing that mix of rock and reggae (often described as part of the ‘New Wave’ style) reached out to a mix of audiences. As musicians the three of them are very accomplished. Stewart Copeland easily makes it into my top ten percussionists – I love to watch him play. As lyricists s they always provided interesting and clever lyrics – from the story of a prostitute in Roxanne, the troubles in Northern Ireland in Invisible Sun to the clever anti-love song lyrics of Every Breath You Take to a very love song type piece of music.
As you can imagine after they went on a extremely long hiatus following the Synchronicity album and tour I was gutted. They were certainly the first band that I wanted to see live. After this I did get to see Sting a few times and he would play a few Police songs, but it wasn’t what I really, really wanted to see.

So Fast Forward a good few years and, again, you can imagine my delight that they decided to reform and do a final tour. I was over the Moon! I kept my eyes out for the concert dates and managed to get tickets for myself and a few friends (and of course the better half) at the Millennium Stadium. However, fate, as it is its wont decided it had other things in store. Captain Chaos was struck down seriously ill with a sepsis. I know I say this a lot but this certainly is a story for another post. It’s still early days on this blog and I will eventually get around to it. So, after seven weeks of stress and worry fate decides, much to our relief the hospital planned to release her the week of the concert. That left us with a no brainer, the tickets had to go.

However it transpired that fate, with its notoriously fickle finger, decided I’d get one final chance to see the Police. Due to Sting suffering with a sore throat first time around a number of concerts were cancelled and rescheduled. This meant that there were some returned tickets available and, needless to say, I pounced on a couple of them. And in fate’s grand scheme of things (and maybe compensation) these tickets where a lot closer to the stage.

The day of the concert came around and I was very excited. I remember driving to Manchester, grabbing a fine dinner with Sarah, walking to the venue and descending the many, many steps to the arena floor. But after the support act I remember very little specific about it. I just remember singing along to every song, clapping and cheering and being in awe of seeing those three musicians playing together. I had waited nearly thirty years to see the Police and I was determined to enjoy every single second they were on the stage.

I say I forget the details but one song that stuck with me is King of Pain. Of all the many, many Police tracks, of which there are very few I skip over when listening to them, this one is a favourite. It’s one of those songs that if I hear it once I have to play it several times. There is something about the music and the lyrics that fascinates me. It’s a very personal song that I believe was a tough one to for them to record as Sting wouldn’t accept any input from Andy or Stewart. A sign of the fiery personal relationships that drove divisions in the band during the eighties. The imagery of despair in the verses and the chorus requesting that release from whatever demons are haunting him but the feeling that nothing is ever going to change. But enough from me…






There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
There's a black cat caught in a high tree top
There's a flag-pole rag and the wind won't stop


I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain


There's a little black spot on the sun today
(That`s my soul up there)
It's the same old thing as yesterday
(it`s my soul up there)
There's a black cat caught in a high tree top
(it`s my soul up there)
There's a flag-pole rag and the wind won't stop
(it`s my soul up there)


I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain


There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
(it`s my soul up there)
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
(it`s my soul up there)
There's a blue whale beached by a spring tide's ebb
(it`s my soul up there)
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web
(it`s my soul up there)


I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain


There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
King of pain


There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack
There's a black-winged gull with a broken back
There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday


I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain


King of pain
I'll always be king of pain
I'll always be king of pain

Reaper Man

I was a bit late coming to Terry Pratchett, to my loss, and the first of his books I picked up was Reaper Man. This was first published in 1991 but it was probably a couple of years after that before I read it.


Living in London there was always a commute to do to get home. Either by the Underground or by bus, if you wanted to see some daylight on the way home. I’d occasionally even take the bus if I was reading a particularly good book and wanted some “me” time to get some extra pages under my belt.

I remember as soon as I started reading Reaper man I was hooked. The easy style or Pratchett’s writing whilst still giving you a very visual image of the characters and the locations, giving Death a voice that was always in CAPITALS and the generally silly names all grabbed me. The one thing that really, really got me hooked was that it made me laugh. And not just that laugh that you do in your head but just remains a smile on your face. Oh no, these were proper laughs. The sort that, when you do them on public transport, people look at you in that peculiar way. But I didn’t care.

I finished that book on the way down to Plymouth to meet up with Sarah and stay over at her folks. At the time we were ‘just friends’. But that’s another story. I spent the three or so hours of the train journey giggling and laughing to myself.

But what is the story about? Well it’s about Death. A being who is charged with collecting the souls of the deceased from the world below, the Discworld. Unfortunately, for Death, he begins to develop a personality and his ‘bosses’, the Auditors of Reality (who I’m sure we all have in our lives), decide that this is not a good thing. So Death gets sent down to the Discworld and becomes a farm hand, by the name of Eric Door, for an aging lady.

However the replacement Deaths, one for each species, don’t work out as the Auditors expected. To make matters even worse the human Death is taking a long time to create. This leaves the Discworld with a growing number of souls with no idea what to do. That is just the start of the problems!

I won’t spoil the book if you’ve not picked it up, and as it was published 19 years ago shame on you and go grab a copy now, so the synopsis shall go no further than this. Terry Prachett is not, by any stretch of the imagination, an author that you should not shout about.

And if anyone does ask, yes, I do vaguely resemble the Librarian.

The Internet and other stories

It appears that unless we take up the position of resident hermit on a desert island we cannot escape the grasp of technology. Of course it’s not guaranteed that you’d escape it on the island. But it’s not all bad. Honestly!

Going back in my dim and distant past I remember the entrance of the computer age into my life. We head back to 1981 and Sir Clive Sinclar’s ZX81. A leap in home computing, that little black wedge with its one kilobyte of memory and black and white output through the television. I would get the magazines with programs in that you could enter line by line. It was all so exciting to make a square bounce around the screen or some other useful utility.

1982 came around and Sir Clive released the ZX Spectrum. What a machine! Soft foamy keys, more memory, colour output and games. We would plug in the cassette player to the machine and load the games. A ten to fifteen minute wait whilst the cassette player squealed away sending the program to the machine. The hours of fun playing Jet Set Willy, Manic Miner and Sabre Wulf – that my parents had. Yes, the discovered the joy of platform gaming. Waiting for your turn suddenly was taking much longer as there were more of us wanting to play. Still there were some upsides to this. We played a lot more music and escaped into the kitchen to watch the black and white portable television and drink coffee.

As the eighties trudged on, and thanks to a great couple of teachers, I was introduced to the RM380Z. Along came the BBC Model B, the first one at school I opened as I was terribly impatient. At the time my friend (and the person I still call my best friend after 35 years) was also interested in computers. From this we spent many, many hours working together writing programs, trying things out. Lunch times and after school we worked on the computers. It was a great time.

At home we had Ataris next (the 600 and 800XL) which we were still loading games slowly but at least they were starting to get a little better. Then I left home. After that it was a few more years before I purchased my first PC. There was plenty of working on them in the office but actually having one at home was great. Then came the first modem and dial up internet. I remember how slow it was, waiting for web pages to download as they appeared a little at a time.

Since then I’ve been through numerous desktops and laptops. Cobbled a few together out of old pieces and added upgrades, argued with technical support services, and reinstalled software more times than I can remember. I’m now sat at home surrounded by computers. My laptop, my work laptop, my desktop, the eldest’s desktop and even the television has its own computer for streaming video and playing music (and the odd game on the big screen).

Anyway, this is a long way of getting around to my point, if there is one. The internet. Over the last few years I’ve done more and more online. Through this I’ve met many, many new people. Some are total jerks and others are the best people you could wish to meet.

I have had forays into Second Life, spent a good few years in there. There I’ve heard musicians streaming across the ether, I’ve DJ’ed in virtual clubs, sharing music I enjoy and hope that others do too and generally spent many hours wandering about looking at creations limited only by the imagination. Here is where I also met a few fantastic people that I’m proud to call my friends (you know who you are). Without the internet we’d have gone along without ever realising we existed.

When we needed some advice about Captain Chaos we turned to the internet and I found the Downsyn forum. Here there are a lot of parents of children with Down Syndrome sharing their fears, thoughts and advice. We’ve seen a few heated discussions on there over the last few years but all in all it was a great place. Again I have new friends there that understand what we are going through because they have been there and done that. I’m pretty sure I’d be insane by now without the support they provided.

Recently I’ve played World of Warcraft as well. I know, I can hear the nerd jokes from here. But again I’ve made some friends I never would have. I currently play in a small group with a few locals, some Danes, Norwegians and Italians. But again, these are people that I’d never have met without the internet.

And there are blogs. I follow a few regularly and these let me into their lives. One of these is Jessica – better known as Black Belt Mama. I started following her because she was on the same path I was, training in Karate to gain a Black Belt. The path of course is never easy and Jessica has had her share of obstacles (I was knocked off my path due to a motorcycle vs truck incident and fibromyalgia syndrome). Just recently she has had a rough time and shared this on her blog. It’s at this point that the internet becomes frustrating as most of the time you can only share a few words by email when really you want to be able to call round on them and see what you can do to help out.

But, in general, this is what is good about the internet. The ability to meet people you would have never known. To see what others get up to in their life, the differences and the similarities, to share ideas and advice and maybe let people see that creative side. I don’t fancy living on that desert island playing the hermit. I’d much rather meet the new people, make the new friends and expand my own views and ideas.

I Want To Be....

Yeah I know – I went a whole week without posting. I’ve been busy you know!


Yesterday was the general election in the UK and, even more so than usual, the choices where between varying degrees of useless. We seriously had some very uninspiring candidates for the big job. That said I wouldn’t want to do it – but then I’m not devious enough for it. But it’s done now and we’re currently stuck with a hung parliament (yes, I know the temptation for the next comments to but I’m resisting on the grounds I don’t have enough rope.)

Still, this neatly segues into what I was going to talk about. The Friday song has to be Elected by the great Vincent Furnier – better known as his alter ego – Alice Cooper. Alice’s career spans from the sixties right up to now. He is the master of modern Vaudeville, his shows of suspense, shock horror and the whatever mayhem Alice is involved in stand out now as much as when he started.

Over the years Alice battled his demons. They were pretty close to winning a few times as well. But he came out the other side and picked up his non-rock and roll addiction of golf. However, he is also a very committed Christian. From a family of preachers his trials and tribulations have brought him a strength of faith that I sometimes wished I had. That ability to change, to grow stronger, to survive. His faith did come close to Vincent killing off Alice though. Fortunately his preacher at the time successfully convinced Vincent that Alice was not a straight alter ego of him, but a character created of his mind but not his soul.

I met Alice in December 1989 at a record signing in London. It was the first year that I’d been living down there and my Mum, Nan and Sister came down for a weekend of shopping and sightseeing. I’d seen that he was doing a record signing at Tower Records in Piccadilly Circus. It was a very cold Saturday and we stood in the queue for about an hour and a half. Despite all my attempts I could not get my Mum to go off and grab a cup of coffee and come back later. She insisted on standing in that queue as she wanted to meet the guy who’s records we played and who’s videoed live shows were often played at home. Clutching my copy of Poison for him to sign I finally got my turn at the front of the queue. We chatted as he signed my record sleeve and the one thing that sticks with me is just how much of a thoroughly nice chap he is. My Mum rather thought the same.

So, I know I should have brought the Friday song forward a day to fit in with the election but...tough!

By the way – it’s worth checking out Alice Cooper: Golf Monster – How a Wild Rock’n’Roll Life Led to a Serious Golf Addiction.
 


Elected

I'm your top prime cut of meat, I'm your choice,

I wanna be elected,
I'm your yankee doodle dandy in a gold Rolls Royce,
I wanna be elected,
Kids want a saviour, don't need a fake,
I wanna be elected,
We're all gonna rock to the rules that I make,
I wanna be elected, elected, elected.


I never lied to you, I've always been cool,
I wanna be elected,
I gotta get the vote, and I told you 'bout school,
I wanna be elected, elected, elected,
Hallelujah, I wanna be selected,
Everyone in the United States of America.


We're gonna win this one, take the country by storm,
We're gonna be elected,
You and me together, young and strong,
We're gonna be elected, elected, elected,
Respected, selected, call collected,
I wanna be elected, elected.


"And if I am elected
I promise the formation of a new party
A third party, the Wild Party!
I know we have problems,
We got problems right here in Central City,
We have problems on the North, South, East and West,
New York City, Saint Louis, Philadelphia, Los Angeles,
Detroit, Chicago,
Everybody has problems,
And personally, I don't care."