The Quest For Positivity

I just want to reassure you all that this post may initially appear to be a political ranting mess from the mind of an angry Plastic Mancunian.

It isn’t.

It is about positivity.

First of all, let me say this: Donald J Trump is an incredible man.

Yes, you’ve read that correctly.

“Why would you say this?” I hear you cry. “You’ve said horrible things about him on this very blog.” 

That is true. Here are some of the things I have said:

“I mean look at the guy! He has mad hair and a mad attitude.”

“He's like a walking parody of a politician, an idiot who allows his mouth to utter his thoughts without going through his mental firewall.”

“I am a lot younger than the oversized oompa loompa with mad hair currently residing in the White House.”

I stand by those things – I think “the Donald” is as mad as a bag of badgers. Yet the reason I think he is incredible is because he seems to be getting away with it and has conned a lot of people – somehow. I would like to add that he is also a comedian.

The Plastic Mancunian of 2016 would have ranted and raved like an insane lunatic about the antics of the man who is leading America into a deeply uncertain future. However, I want to thank my quest for positivity for making me step back and remove negative thoughts about Donald Trump and also Brexit.

In the case of Trump, I watched the highlights (or should I say lowlights) of his totally embarrassing and deranged press conference last week and I actually laughed.

There was no anger. What is there to get angry about?

His lies were exposed (again!) and most of the western world were and remain incredulous that this man has the balls to say what he says.

That is why he is an incredible man. Everything he says is incredible and his outrageous lies are so breath-taking that they are hilarious.

So instead of dragging my soapbox out of retirement, I have been watching marvellous comedians, satirists and political commentators from both sides of the Atlantic, ripping him apart.

I have had a great time.

A positive outlook also helped me cope with a potentially disastrous family exchange on Sunday.

Before I continue, let me just fill you in on a few things you need to know.

(1) Mrs PM’s mum is a rampant Brexiteer, which means that she gets really, really angry because we haven’t left the European Union yet.

(2) I am the complete opposite and Brexit was the main contributor to my ranting negative angry persona in 2016.

(3) Mrs PM’s mum and I have had several arguments over the years, one in particular over lunch in a nice restaurant where I totally belittled her in public. Mrs PM and Mrs PM’s other half told us both off for being so stubborn and humiliating them in public.

(4) I avoided Mrs PM’s mum for almost five months in 2016 because I knew that the moment she brought up Brexit I would erupt like a human volcano and say lots of things that I would regret.

(5) Mrs PM’s mum’s political views are the polar opposite of mine.

(6) The only political similarity between Mrs PM’s mum and I is that we both have been known to stand up and bellow at political programmes on the television.

(7) Until today, Mrs PM had ordered her mum, that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should she mention Brexit in front of me.

(8) Apart from politics, Mrs PM’s mum and I get on really, really well and we have been on holiday together quite a few times.

(9) Former Prime Minister Tony Blair, a rampant Remainer last week urged the people of the UK to rise up and fight against Brexit, causing every single Brexiteer in the UK to bellow their hatred of, in their words, “this arrogant delusional undemocratic arsehole”.

(10) Mrs PM’s mum hates Tony Blair.

On Saturday night we stayed at her mum’s house in Blackpool and went out for a lovely Chinese meal. Afterwards we went to the pub for a nightcap before returning to her house to retire for the night.

Now picture the scene:

I came down in the morning to see Mrs PM’s mum with a face like thunder. She was sitting on the television watching a political programme where the interviewer was asking a politician about whether Tony Blair could and should attempt to derail Brexit. The politician was talking and Mrs PM’s mum slapped the sofa in anger and looked like a coiled spring, ready to launch into a tirade of abuse about Remainers.

She knows my political stance and glared at me with the words “I AM SO WOUND UP!”.

Her face dared me to speak, challenged me to rant about Brexit. She had prepared herself for a confrontation with a Remainer, and there was one standing in her lounge - ME! The good time we had had the night before was a mere memory in her eyes.

The 2016 version of the Plastic Mancunian would have embraced the fight and unleashed my true thoughts about Brexiteers to her. He would have told her what he thought of her views and he would have insulted her with words that he would later regret. He would have pointed out her narrow-minded hypocrisy and upset everybody.

I somehow found something within to calm the situation. I wanted to be positive and non-confrontational. I knew that trying to point out why I hated her views would be as futile as leaping off Blackpool Tower in the hope that I would sprout wings and glide over the Irish Sea like a seagull.

I sat next to her and said, as calmly as possible:

“I am equally wound up but my views are the exact opposite of yours. Let’s find something else to watch.”

She looked at me in a puzzled way and then also found something within. Her face softened and she remembered where she was and who was in front of her.

“Do you want some tea and toast?” she said, finally realising that I was a guest in her house.

“Yes please,” I said. "Remainer tea, with Remainer milk and toasted Remainer bread with Remainer butter.”

I nudged her and grinned.

She smiled back and said “We only serve Brexit breakfast here.”

By this time I had flicked over the channel and Frasier popped on the TV.

“Have you ever seen this?” I said, swiftly changing the subject

“No, “ she said and then got up to make my breakfast.

Her other half then came in and said, “She’s been ranting all morning.”

But now she had stopped. I got my lovely toast and a fine cup of tea. The subject was forgotten and not mentioned again, even though , deep down, the anarchist within me wanted to destroy her argument in a furious verbal attack.

I regard that as a small victory for positivity.

The future is bright.

Goodbye 2016

I normally look back with at least some fondness on years as they go by but this year is an exception.

I won’t be sad to add 2016 to the annals of history. It’s not been all bad but certain things have happened that could affect our lives in the next few years.

As usual I will complete my annual goodbye meme and maybe all will become clear (though I am sure you can guess what I am talking about).

This could be a long one – so here goes – dive in with me:

1.What did you do in 2016 that you’d never done before?

I went to a Burns night celebration in January and found myself being flung around a dance floor by all manner of strange women as part of a ceilidh with a stomach full of haggis. It was great fun.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I was going to pursue more 30 day challenges but decided against it because I was a little too busy during the first few months of the year. I may have another go in 2017.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Not this year.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Yes, my uncle Paul died after suffering for a year with lung cancer. Also, my lovely little hellcat died suddenly.

5. What countries did you visit?

For holidays, this year, we stayed in Europe, visiting Barcelona and Malaga in Spain and Nice in France.

A famous cathedral in Barcelona that is still not finished.

A beautiful sunset in Malaga

Bastillle Day fireworks in Nice before tragedy struck

For work, I visited China again, this time to the beautiful city of Shanghai (though to be honest I didn’t see much of it).

6. What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2016?

I think I’d like to have a little more happiness and a little less rage. Due to the negative events in 2016, I spent a lot of time feeling angry and, unlike my usual self, slightly depressed with what’s been going on. There has been too much negativity so my main aim is to dismiss that and actively search for positivity in 2017.

7. What dates from 2016 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

July 14^th will remain etched in my mind because of the events that occurred in Nice while I was on holiday. You can read about it here.

It was meant to be a public celebration of Bastille Day and instead, because of one psychopath it all turned to shit. If events had taken a different turn it could have been far worse.

June 23^rd also stands out as the day that the United Kingdom took leave of its senses and voted to leave the EU. I have ranted mercilessly about this since that fateful day.

On a lighter note, I had another reunion with my old university friends on November 19^th in London. It was great to see my old mates again.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Nothing leaps to mind, although I have kind of continued plugging away at my novel, which incidentally remains close to being finished but needs a massive amount of work for me to be happy with it. 

Also, I’ve plugged away at Spanish and managed to impress Mrs PM’s mother in Barcelona by actually having simple conversations with people. I am seriously thinking about going on a proper course this year.

9. What was your biggest failure?

My tolerance levels have been depleted and as a result my negativity, usually dormant, has been rampant. Even a week’s holiday in Malaga didn’t really help because around that time, my cat died.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Thankfully no. That would have been the last straw.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I revisited my childhood and invested in a PS4. As well as playing games, it serves as a backup for watching TV.

 12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

As usual, I award Plastic Mancunian Knighthoods to those heroes who dedicate their lives to helping others without wanting the plaudits that many more famous people crave.

I salute you all - you know who you are.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Oh my God! Where do I begin?

Donald Trump’s blatant lies and misogyny have been a particular low point but I am far angrier about the blatant lies that were told on both sides of the EU referendum debate. In particular, Michael Gove and Nigel Farage have totally pissed me off just hearing their outrageous lies.

What I want to see in 2017 is the total absence of Nigel Farage from my television and in the media. I don’t want to hear his opinions on anything anymore. I am trying my best not to swear as I type and in the interests of positivity I won’t.

I just hope he goes away and now he has conned the British public surely he can.

Pity I can’t say the same for Donald Trump.

What a couple of *******

 14. Where did most of your money go?

My house and holidays.

 15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Nothing overly excited me this year apart from going on holiday.

16. What song will always remind you of 2016?

It’s ironic that the song that reminds me of 2016 is called Happiness III by the brilliant Steven Wilson.

Still, I love the song and it is a massive earworm, with a really catchy chorus. I think you will like it too.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer?

Sadly I’m sadder, fatter but possibly slightly richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

I wish I’d written more to be honest. God knows there has been enough material this year. I will rectify that in 2017 as I am planning a 31 day blogathon in January and I aim to finish the first draft of my appalling novel.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

I wish I hadn’t been so angry with politicians and politics in general. The bastards aren’t worth it.

20. How will you spend New Year's Eve?

Exactly the same as last year and this time I shall kick 2016 in the nuts and welcome 2017 with open arms and a big sloppy kiss.

21. Did you fall in love in 2016?

I am already in love – so yes.

22. What was your favourite TV program?

I think this year it has to be Sons of Anarchy, a box set that I watched throughout the year. 

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

I didn’t think it was possible to dislike Nigel Farage any more than I did at the start of 2016. But I do. He can add that to his list of dubious achievements this year.

This conceited, arrogant hypocritical liar is the personification for Brexit as far as I am concerned and, if I were unfortunate enough to ever cross his path, I would seriously consider abandoning my non-violent nature by punching him in his smug face.

He has overtaken Piers Morgan in my list of people I truly dislike – that is some achievement.

Kissed by the world's ugliest frog!!!

24. What was the best book you read?

I thoroughly enjoyed a two book series by Dan Simmons called Illium and Olympos that combined futuristic science fiction with the siege of Troy. A brilliant concept and an amazing read.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I will reveal all in a later post.

26. What did you want and get?

Nothing really. Madness prevailed in 2016 so I didn’t even fair that well mentally either.

27. What did you want and not get?

I wanted the UK to remain in the EU and we stupidly voted for Brexit.

28. What was your favourite film of this year?

I loved Captain America: Civil War. So, yes, another super hero movie.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Mrs PM took me to the Cotswolds for a lovely weekend break and much needed escape from reality for a couple of days.

30. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2016?

Totally non-existent.

32. What kept you sane?

Mrs PM as usual.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Actually, I’ve developed quite a liking for Morena Baccarin. Fancy is too strong a word though.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Brexit by some distance... closely followed by the farcical US election.

35. Who did you miss?

I miss my uncle Paul.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

I’ve met a few new people this year and most of them were and are very nice people.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2016.

Never ever, ever, ever believe a single word that comes out of the fetid mouth of any politician.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

The lunatic is in the hall

The lunatics are in my hall

The paper holds their folded faces to the floor

And every day the paper boy brings more

Thank God It's Christmas

Let’s go forward in time to a history lesson at school, say in the year 2066. The conversation will be:

Teacher: Johnny. Can you tell me when …

Johnny: 2016.

Teacher: But I hadn’t finished.

Johnny: I know. But it happened in 2016 – that was the year that everything happened.

Here’s something else I heard.

FACT: 2016 will be one second longer than 2015.

From Twitter: OH MY GOD! HAVEN’T WE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS BLOODY YEAR?

I will not look back on 2016 with fondness at all. There are many reasons for this most of which are political. We have all witnessed a new trend in political debate on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, where lies abound and post-truth politics is rampaging across the world like a mad beast.

And let’s not forget the legendary people who have died this year, people like David Bowie and Prince amongst others.

Also, I lost my uncle this year as well as my hellcat Liquorice who suddenly dropped dead in the summer. I miss them both.

However, as we approach the end of the year, and since its Christmas, I think it’s time to be more positive, generally. I have finished work for 2016 now and I want to enjoy the last couple of weeks with an optimistic outlook. Of course, I will be reviewing the year just after Christmas but I can let you into a secret – my resolution this year is to try to cut down on ranting and have a much more enjoyable year next year, whatever the hell Brexit throws at me or whatever trouble ensues when Donald Trump finally gets his hands on the Presidential seal.

The first thing I am going to do is consign the following people to Room 101, where everything hellish lives:

David Cameron, Michael Gove, Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson from the UK, all of whom have made me rant mercilessly this year and who I hold personally responsible for Brexit.

And from the other side of the Atlantic, I would like to also put the following people into Room 101 for equally pissing me off:

Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, Ted Cruz and Kanye West.

I don’t know how the US will cope with their president elect suffering Piers Morgan in Room 101 but I am sure you will cope, my friends.

Anyway, no more negativity.

It’s Christmas and we should all rejoice in a time of good year to all men (apart from those I have just locked away forever).

In the past, I have written alternative lyrics for famous Christmas songs so this year I will do the same again. Here are my past efforts:

Jingle Bells

Twelve Days of Christmas

Merry Christmas Everybody 

This time my victim is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Dave, the Mancunian blogger, 

Had a giant monkey's nose

And if you ever saw him

You’d laugh at his choice of clothes

He had a Christmas jumper

And a very silly hat

And, thanks to all the turkey,

He was looking very fat

Then one rainy Christmas Eve,

Santa came to say:

“Dave your belly’s such a sight

Won’t you drive my sleigh tonight?”

Dave is now the new Santa

With a giant bushy beard

Delivering all your presents

Most of which are very weird

This may not be my last post before Christmas but I think now is a good time to wish you all:

Merry Christmas

May Father Christmas (Santa Claus if you are American) bring you all the gifts you want.

By the way, kids, the above lyrics are not true, just a figment of my warped imagination.

Imagine seeing a fat monkey with a beard in your house on Christmas Eve.

Stranger things gave happened.

Bastille Day - Nice - 2016

I went on holiday to Nice to relax and extinguish residual anger.

I went on holiday to Nice because I had been there before and I loved it.

I went on holiday to Nice because I love France and I love French people.

I was delighted to discover that Bastille Day was right in the middle of my trip and that I would have a memorable day as a result.

It was memorable – but not for the reasons I expected.

The day started well. We woke up and had a stroll to a local café that served a lovely traditional French breakfast with croissants, pain aux raisins with coffee and jus d’orange.  After that we returned to the hotel and decided to have a lazy day by the beach.

Pretty soon we crossed over Promenade des Anglais and settled down on the beach, reading a book, enjoying the sun (under the shade of an umbrella in my case to protect myself from sunburn) and occasionally dipping into the sea to cool off.

That’s when the day started to go wrong.

A lifeguard on the beach saw a young man in difficulty in the sea and raced in to rescue him. Sadly by the time he had approached the man’s position, there was no sign of him. The lifeguard called the coastguard and very soon a couple of rescue boats appeared, searching for the man. After about twenty minutes, one of the divers spotted a body and dived into the water. They dragged the unconscious man to the beach.

It was too late.

Ambulances and police arrived on the beach and despite attempts to resuscitate the young man, the man was declared dead. A lot of people were upset and we saw an Italian woman consoling a French woman in their only common language – English. Neither of them knew the victim but the French woman’s grief got the better of her.

We were fairly far away from the incident but we were still pretty shaken by it.

In the evening, we stopped at a small bar to have a drink or two before following the crowds back to Promenade des Anglais to join in with the Bastille Day celebrations. The promenade was packed with people and families of all ages and although most of the people were French we saw quite a few other nationalities waiting for the festivities to begin.

At just after ten, all eyes turned towards the sea as the first of a spectacular series of fireworks lit up the night sky. I’ve always loved fireworks and the look of glee on my face matched that of the children nearby. I could hear gasps of amazement and whoops and cries of joy as the black sky became a cascading kaleidoscope of colour accompanied by distant explosions from the sea.

When the firework display stopped, there was a huge cheer from the crowd and lots of applause. Just to our right, a small stage suddenly burst into life with live music as the Prom Party started. For a moment we were tempted to stay and listen to the music and watch the people enjoying themselves. I suggested that we head back to the Old Town for a night cap and Mrs PM agreed.

We left the promenade and walked past our hotel with the crowds. A work colleague of Mrs PM’s and his wife were also in Nice that week and we had been out with them a couple of times already. We bumped into them just outside the Palais de Justice and had a quick chat about the fireworks.

Suddenly, a crowd of people came running from the direction we had been in, bumping into us and screaming as they ran past.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Mrs PM’s colleague,” but they are all running – so should we.”

Without thinking any further I grabbed Mrs PM’s hand and we ran into the Old Town with the crowd into the narrow streets. People in the restaurants and bars began to panic and as we ran, the proprietors began closing their doors. I looked around and there was no sign of Mrs PM’s colleague.

Eventually, after a few minutes, we stopped as people ran past shouting into their phones, some people crying, others looking terrified.

We passed some stairs that led to a main road and saw a lot of people on the steps staring down towards the promenade. Without warning, there were screams and everyone turned and ran down the steps toward us. One older man tried to leap from the steps over a wall and tripped, landing on his knees. Adrenaline must have been coursing through his body because he jumped to his feet and ran away. We followed the crowd further and stopped again trying to ask what was going on.

A young woman spoke to Mrs PM, who speaks very good French. My French is poor and while I only understood a little of what she had said, her gesture of a man shooting a gun spoke volumes. She switched to English and said “Don’t stay here! Run!”

I grabbed Mrs PM’s hand again and we found the main road and ran towards Place Garibaldi, where we had stayed on our last visit. Mrs PM rang her mum as we ran, but she wasn't in, so she left a message saying that something had happened in Nice but that we were okay – at least for now I thought!

When we reached Place Garibaldi, we noticed that the number of running and panicking people had slowed down and people were standing around, talking to each other and ringing loved ones. I looked for a policeman or somebody else in authority but all I saw were a few emergency vehicles shooting past, sirens blaring.

Mrs PM stopped a group of older people and asked once again what had happened.

The woman spoke in English and told us that a lorry had hit the crowd on Promenade des Anglais but, she thought, there was no danger. At this point we realised that we were about ten to fifteen minutes’ walk away from our hotel.  People were drifting towards the promenade area, slowly and at this point we assumed that there had been a tragic accident.

Mrs PM’s work colleague was staying very near out hotel and he sent us a message saying that they were back at their apartment.

“Come on, “ I said, “let’s hurry back.”

We walked as quickly as we could back the way we had come and thankfully there were no more hysterical crowds running towards us. We could hear sirens getting louder and eventually we reached our hotel.  On the way we saw no open bars, shops or restaurants and our hotel was in darkness. We entered the hotel and the foyer was full of terrified people who had sought shelter in the nearest refuge they could find.

We arrived at our room and saw a young woman on the corridor.

“Have you come from outside?” she asked in English.

“Yes,” we replied.

“Is it safe now? We have strangers in our room who are terrified.”

We told her what we knew and entered our room to watch the news and search the internet for any hints about what had happened. In the next hour or two the full horror of what had happened dawned on us.

A psychopath had ploughed into the Bastille Day revellers, deliberately running people over and shooting people until eventually the police had stopped him by shooting him dead. If we had decided to stay on the Promenade des Anglais and join in the party we may have been in the firing line.

We heard sirens late into the night and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next day, the Promenade des Anglais was closed and the police presence was very evident. We saw television correspondents giving reports from the promenade as well as soldiers walking around alert. We had seen soldiers before the tragedy so this was no surprise. To me, however, the police presence was increased slightly, particularly around the tourist areas surrounding the Old Town.

However, I was relieved to see people going about their daily business with an air of defiance tinged by a little sadness. My feelings were exactly the same, as were Mrs PM’s, and despite one or two calls for us to come home, we decided that we were going to stay and enjoy our final few days.

And we did.

We have not been put off by neither Nice nor the rest of France by this and I aim to return to both soon.

The one thing this episode has done has strengthened my resolve somewhat. While we weren’t directly affected, we were both close enough to the attack and, if we had decided to join the party or move closer to where the incident took place, things may have been different.

For three days we stood shoulder to shoulder with France.

We will continue to do so.

Therapy

Recent events have got me really angry. My normal grumpiness has become rampant and I have an urge to rant at everything I see on the news.

2016 has been, so far, a year I totally want to forget – and it’s not even over yet! I haven’t spoken to Mrs PM’s parents since Brexit because I know that I will say something to them that I regret, upsetting them, Mrs PM and even myself in the process. Mrs PM and her mum have already exchanged tense words resulting in Mrs PM slamming the phone down on her own mother.

My anger is building up so much that I am turning into Mr Angry, the person I mocked so mercilessly just a month or two ago.  As soon as I hear the news I start ranting. I have given up reading newspapers because they make me angry.

Grumpiness is one thing – rage is another and I am full of rage.

And I hate myself for it because this is not me – this is not the laid back guy I have known all my life.

I need a holiday and, thank goodness, I am off tomorrow to Nice, a beautiful city in the south of France.

And for that, I need to calm down before I set foot on French soil.

So to help me, I have been looking through some of my old photos to raise my spirits and try to forget names like David Cameron, Nigel Farage, Michael Gove, the Conservative Party, Donald Trump, Brexit and, yes, bloody England – the country that I love but the country that has pissed me off more in the past few months than it has at any time in my life – even more so than when Margaret Thatcher’s reign of terror was at its peak.

With that in mind, I thought I would share a couple of those photos with you, dear reader.

I hope you like them.

Hong Kong at Night

Tokyo - Barrels of Sake

Budapest - Hungarian Parliament Building

Rio de Janeiro - A Famous Statue

Rome - The Spanish Steps

 

A Temple in Kyoto

Kyoto - Lots of Torii

Santorini

Prague - Performing in front of an Old Church

A Big Cathedral in Barcelona

The Great Wall of China

That's better. I feel much calmer now. I need to be in a good frame of mind for packing so maybe I should do that too.

I am making a promise to myself here and now - I will not watch the news between now and 6am tomorrow when I have to be at the airport.

I'll leave with you with a tune that reflects my new found calmness and coincidentally is by my favourite band from France.



Au revoir et à bientôt, mes amis.

Goodbye 2015

Don’t the years just fly by? It seems like only yesterday that I was waving goodbye to 2014, and now here I am showing 2015 the door as it heads off into the sunset of the past.

I’m starting to feel old.

Anyway, tradition dictates that I simply must summarise the past year with a meme that I stole some time ago.

This could be a long one – so here goes – dive in with me:

1.What did you do in 2015 that you’d never done before?

I travelled to South America for the very first time, visiting a country that is absolutely huge – Brazil, As part of that trip, I also spent six hours in Argentina too.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

2015 was a very good year for achieving some of the things I have procrastinated about for the past few years.

Firstly, I took it upon myself to take up a few 30 day challenges and I completed every single one of them. Here are some of the highlights:

(a) Improve my photography (completed January).There is still a long way to go but I have learned lot of technical stuff.

(b) Creative writing (completed March). All I did was read a book about the subject. I just need to put it into practice.

(c) Learn basic Italian (completed April). I did this because we visited Bologna in May. I learned a few choice phrases and some basic vocabulary, which I have since forgotten.

(d) Japan travelogue (completed August). The travelogue is still incomplete but at least I put a massive dent into this unwritten travel diary for our visit to Japan a couple of years ago. Another 30 day challenge may just complete it.

(e) NaNoWriMo (completed November). I actually wrote over 50,000 words of a novel that I have had in my head for the past couple of years for National Novel Writing Month. And I won. The problem is that the novel will end up being about 80,000 words and is, in its current form, full of major plot holes and is in fact rubbish. However, I hope to have completed it by the end of January, to set about rewriting huge swathes of it later next year. This particular challenge is the best of them all.

I also actually cycled to work one day this year. Can you believe that??? No – neither can I!!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

A couple of guys at work became fathers but they didn’t actually give birth themselves.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, thankfully.

5. What countries did you visit?

I visited friends in Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates in April.

The Grand Mosque - Abu Dhabi

In May, I went for a weekend away to Bologna in Italy with a group of friends.

View of Bologna from the roof of our hotel

In June, we visited Prague in the Czech Republic to celebrate Mrs PM’s mum’s 70th birthday.

A busy square in Prague

Also in June, I visited Beijing in China for a week with work, where I gave a training course.

Finally, in October, I visited Brazil for the first time and also popped across to Argentina for the day.

A famous statue in Rio de Janeiro

6. What would you like to have in 2016 that you lacked in 2015?

I won several major battles in my war with procrastination this year so I would like a bit more willpower to gain the upper hand.

I think it’s achievable.

7. What dates from 2015 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

March 22nd sticks in my memory because my beloved football team, Walsall, reached Wembley for the very first time in the Johnson Paint Trophy Final. I travelled to London with Mrs PM and my eldest lad and the atmosphere was fantastic.

The score at this point was 0-0 - so I was happy (briefly).

Sadly, we lost the game 2-0  – but at least I was there.

My eldest lad graduated from university on 10th July.

Like father like son?

Meeting old friends in a night of drunken debauchery in Liverpool on November 14th.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Without a doubt, writing at least 50,000 words of a novel.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Finding just enough willpower to cycle to work more often (i.e. more than once!)

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Nothing whatsoever apart from the odd cold. In fact, I've just recovered from two particularly nasty ones that waited until I had finished work for Christmas before unleashing themselves onto my poor old body!

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I didn’t buy any gadgets this year. I would probably say that the holiday to Brazil was worth every penny.

 12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

As usual, I award Plastic Mancunian Knighthoods to those heroes who dedicate their lives to helping others without wanting the plaudits that many more famous people crave.

I salute you all - you know who you are.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

There are too many to mention. But I will.

Kanye West, as usual for declaring himself the biggest rock star on the planet at Glastonbury and then performing like an old has-been (who was never any good anyway).

Katie Hopkins for still being in the news and on TV despite the fact that she is attention-seeking little Miss Nasty.

Sepp Blatter for doing his best to destroy FIFA and football in general and then acting as if he has done nothing wrong. Finally (hopefully) his ban from having anything to do with football will remain. The sad thing is that he still thinks he is innocent.

Donald Trump for starting out as an outrageous clown and then proving that he is a bigoted idiot, I honestly worry about the possibility of this nutcase gaining any form of power.

There is also so much evil in the world but I don’t want to go into that. Nor the hypocritical politicians who continue to use and abuse us all.

 14. Where did most of your money go?

Mrs PM’s had to buy a replacement car after it suddenly died and, as mentioned above, the holiday to Brazil, as well as kids and mortgage.

 15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

My first trip to South America and Brazil; it didn’t disappoint.

16. What song will always remind you of 2015?

I will discuss this in more depth in a later post in due course. However, this is probably the song that weill remind me of 2015. Steven Wilson is a genius in my view, and his music is sublime and magnificent. Every song on his latest album Hand. Cannot. Erase. is perfect. However, the title track is probably the most accessible and, for once, more of a pop masterpiece than a progressive rock masterpiece.

Judge for yourself:



17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer?

Happier, slightly fatter and perhaps a little richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

I wish I had cycled more. Having dusted down my bike, removed the cobwebs and actually rode the thing to work, I put it back to gather dust again. Whoever thought that having national cycle to work day in September, just as the weather is descending into dark wintry horror, needs to be sacked. If the day had been in the middle of April, I would have taken it up – honestly.

And yes, I will try to cycle in April 2016.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

I wish I had gone to work less. Sadly, I have to work to live and sadly that is something I can do nothing about.

20. How will you spend New Year's Eve?

Exactly the same as last year.

21. Did you fall in love in 2015?

I am already in love – so yes.

22. What was your favourite TV program?

Of all the hours I spent watching TV this year, I reckon that my favourite was – and still is – Dr Who. Yes, I am a sad geek.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Hate is too strong a word but all of the people I disliked last year are still disliked this year.

24. What was the best book you read?

I quite enjoyed Hunter by James Byron Huggins, not a brilliant book by any means but an enjoyable romp.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I will reveal all in a later post.

26. What did you want and get?

I wanted a kick up the arse to force me to write a chunk of a novel. Somebody or something gave me that kick.

27. What did you want and not get?

The power and means to quit my day job.

28. What was your favourite film of this year?

Avengers: Age of Ultron but honourable mentions must go to SPECTRE and Terminator Genisys.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I am now 53 years old. I spent my birthday exploring Salvador in Brazil.

30. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Sorry to mention it again, but actually attempting to write a novel.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2015?

I reduced the length of my sideburns last month. Does that count? Also, I have been lazy for a couple of weeks and I now have a bit of a beard. Sadly, it is irritating and I can't see it lasting until 2016. Bizarrely, Mrs PM approves of it (apparently because beards are fashionable at the moment).

32. What kept you sane?

Mrs PM – apart from when she played her music.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

There are a lot of attractive female celebrities but nearly all of them are too young for an old git like me.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Lunatic extremists and the ongoing hypocritical antics of the current party in power in the United Kingdom.

35. Who did you miss?

Nobody leaps to mind.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

Again, nobody leaps to mind.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2015.

Coca Cola is a disgusting sugar-filled sickly drink that doesn’t even taste nice – but it is a great hangover cure.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

It's a thousand pages, give or take a few

I'll be writing more in a week or two

I can make it longer if you like the style

I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer

Paperback writer

Those are the ideal lyrics but the truth is more like my own version:

It’s a thousand pages if I finish it

And if the truth be known, it’s a pile of shit

But I’ve had a go and I’m proud of it

Even though I know that I’ll never be a paperback writer

Paperback Writer