Billy No Mates

I have been Billy No Mates in the past.

You might wonder whether this is just another silly name I have invented for myself. It’s not really.

In the UK (and possibly other places) becoming “Billy No Mates” refers to situations where you find yourself on your own in a pub, in a restaurant, at a gig or some other social gathering potentially feeling self-conscious because, in your head, you think that everybody else enjoying the company other people and when they see you sitting on your own in the corner, they will laugh or feel sorry for you. 

“Look at him. He’s got no friends. HA HA HA!”

“I feel sorry for old Bill No Mates in the corner there on his own.”

The thing is that work sometimes made sure that it was difficult to avoid becoming Billy No Mates before I retired. I may have mentioned that I used to work on airport IT systems, which meant that I was often asked to fly abroad for days and sometimes weeks at a time to work with the system on site. Most of the time, I travelled with colleagues and a lot of the time, I was entertained by the customers concerned. I don’t mean that they got up and started singing and dancing – they just took me out for meals. 

However, sometimes it was just me. 

When I started travelling abroad I was still quite shy and reserved and if I ended up on my own in those early years, I was tempted to simply go to McDonalds and take my Big Mac Meal back to my lonely old hotel room and sit there on my bed munching away and feeling sorry for myself. The problem was that I had a meal allowance and as time went on I started thinking to myself that perhaps I should take advantage of this and go out to a restaurant. 

And so I did and over the years, as Billy No Mates, I’ve actually just enjoyed meals in sometimes crowded places, watching other people, listening to other conversations and not feeling that self-conscious at all. There comes a point when you realise that being Billy No Mates in such situations is fine and also can be enjoyable. 

Initially, when I plucked up the courage to do it, I used to take a book with me and read it while I was waiting for my meal. That all stopped on a trip to Toronto, Canada. I had the weekend off so, as Billy No Mates, I decided to spend Saturday exploring Toronto and Sunday exploring Niagara Falls. On Saturday, I forgot my book, which was annoying at first, but then I realised that having lunch in a coffee shop and a lovely evening meal in a lively Toronto restaurant was actually just as enjoyable as getting lost in a good book. The restaurant I chose in Toronto had a lively bar attached to it, and I thoroughly enjoyed sampling a couple of Canadian beers and just people watching as I ate. Nobody stared at me and nobody laughed. In fact, the waiters and waitresses stopped to chat a couple of times. 

On Sunday, I spent the whole day in Niagara and had a great lunch. On the way back, an old lady sat next to me on the bus (which was really a special airport taxi) and gave me her life story. She was going back to the UK for the first time for fifty years and was very nervous about it. I did my best to reassure her and, when we arrived at the airport, where I was also staying, I took her to the check-in desks and made sure that she got a boarding pass. She took me for a coffee by way of thanks and I escorted her to the departure lounge. She was most grateful.

I’ve even been on my own in Moscow in the middle of winter. During the three week trip, I was staying at an airport miles away from the city but close enough to get there by train. Armed with my Russian phrasebook, I managed to catch a train and navigate the amazing underground subway system. I found a Mexican restaurant I had been to before with a colleague on a previous trip, and I enjoyed a lovely Mexican meal while watching a live Russian band performing rock music, all washed down with a couple of Baltika beers. There was even an argument in there between a couple and although I couldn’t understand a single word they were saying, it was entertaining. 

All this brings me to the point of this post, which I am reaching in a roundabout way. 

One thing that helps if you find yourself on your own in a pub or restaurant, whether you are actively being Billy No Mates or just waiting for somebody who is delayed, is to have your phone with you. I recall one night when I was in Hong Kong alone, again on a work trip, when I decided to go to a couple of places where Mrs PM had been to when we lived there for three months. In fact it was my very last work trip to Hong Kong. This was not a smartphone but it had a camera and a couple of games so it kind of passed the time. Mrs PM and I would go to a bar called Delaney’s in Wan Chai and then have a meal in a Mexican restaurant called La Placita in Causeway Bay. For old times sake, I wandered into Delaney’s only to find that the bar had moved. I sat at the bar with a beer and chatted to Mrs PM via text. It felt like I wasn’t alone at all. Later, I went to find La Placita but it too had closed. Instead I went to an American diner we had visited a couple of times and again, I chatted via text to Mrs PM, saying how disappointed I was that La Placita was closed. And I was barely aware that I was Billy No Mates – even though I was. 

Since then, phone technology has exploded and just about everybody you see has one. They are far more than just a phone and almost everybody has become reliant on them – myself included. However, this appears to have had a negative effect. What you see now is people in bars and restaurants spending their time engrossed in their phones even when they are with people. It seems a lot of people want to become Billy No Mates, ironically even if they are with their mates. 

I’ve mentioned this before but there was one recent example I saw in a local pub. Three young people were sitting at a table and they were clearly together. All of them were totally absorbed in whatever was on their phones and nobody was talking, that is until one of them ran out of beer and asked whose round it was. They all chose to be Billy No Mates even though they were together. What was the point of being out with friends if all you can do is spend your time on your phone?

It’s crazy. 

I still become Billy No Mates occasionally these days and when I do I use my smartphone to entertain me if necessary. But if I am waiting for a friend in a pub, say, the phone is returned to my pocket the very moment they arrive. 

These days, the only time I become Billy No Mates is when I am waiting for somebody or on public transport on my own. That said, I am quite happy to go to the cinema on my own for example. The same applies to rock concerts. I have a group of mates who all love a bit of rock music and we tend to all go together but occasionally I have to go on my own if the band concerned is more progressive. And I don’t mind that either. For example I have in recent years happily become Billy No Mates to see Riverside, Rush, Porcupine Tree and Dream Theater because I’m the only one out of our group that likes them.

I guess the moral of the post is that It's okay to become Billy No Mates but I’m not sure that becoming Billy No Mates when you are out with friends because of your smartphone is cool really. 

You can’t beat a real conversation with a human being. 

Look What I Found In My Head

Every day at work, I leave my desk at lunchtime, armed with my smartphone and my iPod and set off on a circular walk of just over two miles. My aim is fourfold:

(1) Get a little exercise.

(2) Escape the confines of the office.

(3) Enjoy some music.

(4) Clear my head.

I want to focus on item (4).

As I stroll around the streets, my mind wanders, replacing the inevitable stress and tedium of office work with a journey through my own imagination, accompanied by a musical soundtrack of songs that I love.

And that journey is usually quite fruitful.

The experience feels like I am in a room with thousands of doors. The journey begins when I open one of the doors and go through. The choice of door depends on my mood, the music I am listening to, the day I have had so far and random thoughts that have popped into my head based on conversations, news – anything really.

Ultimately I hope to find something interesting – like this idea for a blog post for example.

I am fascinated by the train of thought that eventually leads to the gems I find inside my own head. Sometimes they are good things but occasionally they are not do good. For example, if I am in a bad mood, or a little depressed about something, I find that sometimes it is difficult to drag myself from a negative path. In that respect I understand how depressed people think – I know this first hand because Mrs PM is prone to depression and in these situations it is difficult if not impossible to escape the irrational downward spiral that follows.

Happily, I have experience of seeing this is other people and can assist, if only to be the person who comforts them or to be a shoulder to cry on, so to speak. Of course, it is not as simple as that and, thankfully, Mrs PM is in control of it.

I don’t suffer from depression myself but if a negative thought threatens to enter my head and cause a negative cycle, I switch my mind to something that will distract it – like changing the song on my iPod of taking a moment to look around as I walk. This helps usually; rather like leaving the bad door alone and finding another more interesting one to go through. It doesn’t always work – and I have struggled sometimes in 2017 to be fair – but things are improving.

Sometimes, exploring my imagination can cause embarrassment. Here are a couple of examples.

Picture the scene. I am walking along oblivious to my surroundings and listening to a fantastic and happy song - a song such as this:

I find myself walking in step to the beat and imagine myself as the artist. The problem is that my step becomes jaunty and bouncy and on a couple of occasion I have actually started mouthing the words. If I have my headphones in, I can’t actually tell whether I am actually singing – I might be. In which case, it’s no surprise that I have acquired a few strange looks by people queuing up at a bus stop I have walked past.

On other occasions, a song has reminded me of a funny incident in the past caused an involuntary guffaw that is difficult to control and fuels yet more laughter, making me look like some kind of idiot marching along the streets.

Also, if I see somebody I know as I walk, I try to be polite and greet them as we pass. However, because of my headphones, it is more difficult to judge volume.

“Hi Dave,” they will say as we approach!

“HI ANDY,” I bellow at the top of my voice, in an attempt to drown out both the heavy metal song in my ears and the noise of cars, lorries and buses roaring past on the main road.

When I get back to work, I face the inevitable consequences.

“Why were you yelling at me in the street, Dave?”

Thankfully, this doesn’t happen very often and my walks are uneventful to watch.  The good news for me is that I have around 10,000 novel ideas as a result of my lunchtime walks. The bad news is that when I get back to work, I never write them down because the moment I sit back down at my desk, the shit hits the fan and I am plunged back into the abyss of the rat race before I have the time to write down a paragraph about invisible mutant aliens turning people into slaves.

However, I am certainly more relaxed and, for an hour or so at least, I find myself going about the daily grind with a smile on my face and a more relaxed approach to work.

I recommend you try it, dear reader. Once a day, grab hold of your own musical device and walk around the streets of your town or city for half an hour or so. Take off the chains of your imagination, walk through an interesting door and see where it leads you.

In almost all cases you will be amazed.

And for any Mancunians out there, if you see a greying blond nutcase singing or laughing as he walks – it might just be me.

Feel free to say “Hi Dave!” – I will try not to yell back at you.

Smart Conversation

The art of conversation is slowly dying.

The only people who are currently keeping it active are those above a certain age, like me, who like to have a good old fashioned conversation (or a “chinwag”) with one or more people in pleasant surroundings such as a restaurant, pub of coffee shop.

However, there are a certain group of people (to whom I shall refer as the youth of today) who prefer other means of communication.

I am referring to the smartphone.

Actually, it’s not just the youth of today – some people my age are equally guilty of this crime against humanity.

Picture the scene:

Mrs PM and I walk into a pub and approach the bar. After ordering our drinks we find a seat and chat to each other about our day at work, next year’s holiday plans, what a great guy I am and how lucky she is to have me – you know the kind of thing.

On the table next to us are three people all with drinks who obviously know each other. None of them are talking to each other. Instead, each one of them has a smartphone in their hand and each one of them is doing something like:

(1) Surfing the internet looking at crazy You Tube videos

(2) Posting their status in Facebook (“I’m having a great time with Kate and Paul in The Blue Hippo and am just about to quaff a pint of Old Skunkwarbler”)

(3) Posting their status on Twitter (“Drnkng Old Skunkwarbler with m8s in pub – LOL - #Drunkasskunk)

(4) Texting other friends who aren’t there (“CU L8er @BlueHippo – wot’s ur eta?”)

We sat there watching them and nobody spoke until one of them ran out of beer and asked whose round it was.

A more extreme case occurred in my own house. I was with Mrs PM, my son and his girlfriend. Mrs PM and I were watching TV and the kids were busy typing on their phones. Suddenly, my lad’s phone chirped – he had received a text message. That text message was from his girlfriend who was sitting a yard away and had texted him asking for a drink.

We like his girlfriend a lot and I have told her that she can help herself to anything in my house (apart from my beer of course!) – and usually she does.

Even my lad was surprised.

He turned to her and said “Get your own drink!”

“What?” I said incredulously. “Have you just texted him to ask for a drink?”

“Yes,” she confessed.

As you can imagine, my soapbox came out and I started ranting about how smartphones are turning people into robotic ignoramuses and that the logical evolutionary conclusion will be that people eventually forget how to speak, only able to communicate with grunts and superfast typing on their devices with their oversized thumbs.

“Ignore him,” said my lad as he got up to fulfil his girlfriend’s request. “He’s old!”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going to get her a drink?” I said.

“Shut up!” shouted Mrs PM, bringing my rant to an abrupt end. My lad and his girlfriend just laughed (as they usually do).

I have now banned the use of phones when I am out with Mrs PM and my immediate family and their girlfriends unless they receive an important text or a phone call.

Actually, that’s another thing. People these days communicate by text instead of ringing each other up. If you want to have a serious chat with somebody or arrange something you cannot do it with a text that is written in the stupid abbreviated slangy language, known as text speak.

You can achieve so much in a five minute conversation. If you text to each other it takes hours to do this, and in my case most of that time is taken trying to decipher the idiotic language that’s used.

Does the following really make sense?

OMG RUOK? UR BF is a dick IYKWIM! TIME! TTYL! HAK! Kate

What this means is

“Oh my God! Are you OK? Your boyfriend is a dick, if you know what I mean. There are tears in my eyes. Talk to you later. Hugs and kisses. Kate.”

Actually, she won’t “talk to you later” because she will send you a tweet, post you a message on Facebook or text you.

Don’t get me wrong; I am a technophile who LOVES my smartphone. The difference between me and the youth of today is that I use my phone for learning Spanish, navigating, receiving emails, reading, taking photos, checking the weather, measuring my walking distance and speed, organising my calendar, watching TV via Google Chromecast, converting currencies, translating from English to other languages and vice versa, checking the time, storing useful information, brain training, simulating a torch, reading the news, posting photos on Instagram, checking the names of actors in films, learning other subjects, identifying songs, checking the latest gigs, recording voice notes and looking at You Tube videos.

I hasten to add that I only do this when I am on my own and not when I am in the company of one or more people.

I use my phone in a pub, for example, when Mrs PM has gone to the toilet and I am on my own waiting for her to return. If I am with several people, my phone stays in my pocket.

And that’s the way it should be.

I don’t want the art of conversation to die. While social media has revolutionised communication, it should not be used to communicate with people who are in the same room as you.

People need to talk to each other.

It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, rant over.

I’ve got to go. Mrs PM has just texted me to tell me to start cooking dinner because her favourite television programme is on.

Bloody smartphones!!!