Dad, Grandad, and Me...

It was Father's Day yesterday. To be honest, I had forgotten about it because my father died five years ago. A few days before that it was my grandad's birthday. He would have been eighty, but unfortunately he didn't live to see it. He passed away in December and, as with my father, it too had been sudden. My other grandad (on my mother's side) died when I was just a few months old, and as such I didn't get a chance to know him at all.

So at thirty-three, I'm the elder statesman of my family, and without any children (as of yet), the last stop on the line. It's a sobering thought, and one that I have spent a lot of time with these last few days.

To the fathers: wherever they may be.

Onwards...

3 Contests, 4 Stories, 33 Pounds...

...and nothing.

The shortlists were announced earlier this month and I am nowhere to be seen. This is not entirely surprising as I have never done much in writing contests before - a long-list here, an honourable mention there - but it is a little disconcerting.

Perhaps I am simply entering the wrong competitions. Perhaps the pieces I am submitting are just not what they are looking for.

Or maybe I'm wrong and I'm just not good enough.

Nah. Can't be that.

Momentary crisis averted. Onwards...

Takin' It Easy...

I went to see the Illegal Eagles recently at the Edinburgh Playhouse. Front row. I've seen them five or six times now, and through various line-up changes over the years, they never fail to impress and always give a standout performance.

I know tribute bands often get the cold shoulder from a lot of fans, but having seen Don, Glenn, Joe, and Timothy, in Glasgow a few years back, I can honestly say these guys are no second-rate, wannabe rock stars. They really rise above the unfortunate 'tribute' tag, so much so that you will forget that's what they are and just enjoy the music. And after all, that's really what it's all about, isn't it?

If you have yet to catch them, and they're playing in a town near you, go and check them out. Good musicianship, great vocals, and a team spirit that exudes from the stage. What else could you ask for?

Middle-Eastern Adventures...

I recently returned from a week in Dubai - I was visiting friends - and what a very superficial place it is: full of falsity and fakery. Everything is tailored towards being the biggest, the best, and the brightest. While there's nothing wrong with that, after a while it became more about the grandeur than anything else.

It is certainly a playground for the wealthy (in one bar a regular drink cost me £14!), and the opulence is there if you can afford it, but it's also a very fragmented city, with cranes and construction sites all over the place. It is literally impossible to look out anywhere over the city (when the morning dust isn't in the air, that is), without seeing at least half a dozen of the mechanical beasts towering over the skyline.

Don't read me wrong: I really enjoyed it. We had dinner at The Atlantis; played at Wild Wadi Waterpark; went dune-bashing in the Arabian Desert; rode a camel; had a Bedouin meal; threw snowballs at the largest indoor ski-park in the world; turned down criminally expensive drinks at the Burj Al Arab; and spent a day on an open-topped bus touring the city.

For a one-time-only deal, I would definitely recommended it, but don't be surprised if you have no money left when you get home.

That Many Folk Can't Be Wrong...

My comic flash piece, Carpet Burned, makes an appearance at the rather nifty, Notes From the Underground - a free newsletter distributed on and around the London Underground, and also stocked at many bookstores throughout the land. They boast a circulation of 75,000, which is nothing to be sniffed at, and certainly a hell of a lot more than anything I can lay a previous claim to.

Give it a whirl and let me know what you think.

Red Letter Day...

My flash piece, The Letter, is now up at Big Pulp, after being accepted for publication over a year ago. A few bucks for a few hundred words. It's a tale that has the potential to be the start of something longer, but I don't know. I kinda like it the way it is. Give it a read if you have the time.

Those Were The Days...

Back in the mid-80s, my dad – like any movie buff worth his salt – had two video recorders. We would hire them, record them, then watch them until the tapes themselves became worn out and you got that annoying magnetic line at the top of the picture that would gradually pull everyone’s head off to the side.

Ok, it was on the wrong side of right, but I was a kid. I just thought it was cool to be able to watch my favourite movies whenever I wanted.

Back to the Future, Gremlins, Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Wargames, and many more: movies I have seen so often, they became a fundamental part of my childhood. Seeing them always reminds me of those 195 minute video tapes that lined our living room walls - when running times were based on a counter specific to your machine, and then written on a sticky white label on the front so you'd know where the second movie started.

Of course, if you bought a new video recorder you were in trouble.

Memories indeed...