Friday 3 January 2020

The Last Night Of The World

January 3rd

The Last Night Of The World

Only three days into the New Year and it might be as far as we get!

Trump playing golf, hits a bad drive and is so angry he decides to nuke Iran.

And it’s no laughing matter really because you wouldn’t bet against him continuing to escalate this latest dick measuring contest with the Iranians after they respond to the assassination of Qasem Soleimani, which I guess they will.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no apologist for the Iranians, they have plenty to answer for, but to think not so long ago the previous US President had managed to formulate some kind of deal with them that, although not perfect, would have kept the world a little safer.

Fingers crossed that wiser heads prevail because we do not need another conflict in the Middle East…or anywhere.

Man made conflict aside, the consequences of another battle are seemingly becoming more and more acute.

Australia continues to burn, people facing the terrible power of nature and are pretty limited in how they can respond other than to run, shelter on beaches perhaps, just keep out of the way. A thought for the bravery of the fireman who are courageously doing their best and it must certainly make their job harder if people don’t follow advice and evacuate.

I think this has been a timely if costly reminder that human beings may think we own the world but we don’t. The planet Earth does not need any of us, not a single human being is necessary to give value to this planet.

We are the most arrogant of species. We think we can do anything because we have already done so much and yet none of us can make the wind change direction or turn the path of a tsunami or calm an erupting volcano.

Being that person who refuses to leave your home, who wants to stand and fight a raging inferno and then needs rescuing, putting other lives at risk - arrogance. Stupidity?

You can rebuild a house, start again, but not if you’re dead.


Think about those areas of the world where huge disasters have displaced mankind for a while…like Chernobyl.  The plants and wildlife crept back and adapted and reestablished an eco system all without the help of mankind. Our absence made it possible.

Arrogance: that we are somehow so special the world cannot function without us, that we are so smart that nothing could happen without us controlling it.  We can glorify ourselves, feel more important than our fellow human beings, just because of which bit of the planet we happened to be born on!


What a load of crap.


And the present political climate around the world is stoking the fires of nationalist, jingoistic rhetoric and soon that could rage as out of control as the bush fires in Australia.

Maybe the Bible was right and we are living through the end of days?

God created man, man destroyed himself and the world kept turning…all in the blink of an eye.




Thursday 2 January 2020

Sit Down, You're Rocking The Boat

2nd January

Sit Down, You’re Rocking The Boat

The festivities are over. Christmas is packed away in boxes awaiting my wobbly progress up a creaking ladder as I drag it back into the loft.

Considering I find it hard to stand upright on the ground, I’m taking quite a risk climbing  a ladder, but if I do fall to my death this morning it will be after a lovely plate of beans on toast and as a condemned man’s last meal goes, I’ll take it.

A quick glance through social media indicates that the bigots are still frisky at this time of year, they obviously don’t hibernate.

Some of them still harping on about the casting of  a female Doctor, others bemoaning a bisexual Dracula. Twitter will go into meltdown when they do eventually cast a BAME or female James Bond. I am going to try and stay out of these pointless arguments from now on: you cannot have a reasonable debate with unreasonable people.

There is one topic I’d like to comment on though and that’s to defend the Pope for admonishing the lady who grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. I’m with Francis, I’d have chinned her; could have pulled him over and broken his hip! Remember what the Bible says; Let he who is without sin cast the first punch. Amen.

Of course he’s already sought forgiveness for his very human act and offered his apology for not being a good role model in his endless search for world peace…that he constantly prays for…as did all of his predecessors. How’s that going?

The Pope, like other world famous folk, is still human. I think the great unwashed forget that sometimes.

We expect them to act in a different way because of the position they find themselves in.

That’s apparent in another constant thread of discord on social media, that of the ‘disappointed fan’.  The people who, for example, paid to see a show in the West End and then scuttle around to the stage door to grab a selfie with the star.  But sometimes the star doesn’t appear and then the comments start. Nasty comments about how people should remember that it was the paying public who made them what they are!

No dear, it was their hard work and talent that made them what they are and it might just be that on the night you felt they let you down, they were feeling tired or ill or had friends and family visiting or they had to rush off to reshoot a scene on a TV show or movie.

There could be many reasons whey they didn't have time for a selfie with Sharon from Doncaster (their biggest fan) but one of those reasons was not to snub you. The price of your ticket bought you a seat to see the show and nothing else, please try and understand that simple point Sharon and you’ll be less frequently ‘heartbroken’.


I rarely go to stage doors, usually it’s because I have been invited or know someone in the show. The last stage door visit I made was after the panto at Sheffield and that was to get a hug from Mister Maker…for Polly, as they are old friends.  Well she gave him a high five and I got the hug but we were all happy.

Just for your information, Mister Maker is much nicer than Mister Tumble.

It would appear there are some celebrities who always have the time for the fans. I recall watching Daniel O’Donnell spend hours greeting every old lady who’d come to hear him sing at a charity event. He was more prepared than the Pope to be manhandled, but he was younger and less at risk of fractured bones.

It’s always nice when you meet a celebrity and they are polite and engaged but I’ve never taken it personally if they are not. It’s not all about me after all is it? I’m talking to you Sharon from Doncaster.

Sharon’s definitely a Pope grabber.

Anyway, better get some beans on some toast and then maybe a quick prayer before launching myself up the ladder.

See you all tomorrow - hopefully.




Wednesday 1 January 2020

Move On


1st January 2020

Move On


Happy New Year everyone.

If I were the sort of person who made resolutions then I might be giving up meat or alcohol for January. But frankly speaking, for me, giving something up for a few weeks might be much harder than trying to give it up forever.

Surely with the challenges of climate change and preserving the future of our whole way of life, long term actions should be taken rather than these short term but well meant gestures? That’s not to say I denigrate anyone who is undertaking these challenges; good luck to you. Maybe it will see a longer term change for you?

I will try and drink less and I will try and eat less meat but not just for January, for the rest of my life. I don’t know yet how successful I will be but I can try.

Other big changes for 2020, well I’ve already spoken in other posts about a change in my work/life balance. The one tool I need to make that work is the courage to say ‘NO’.


I often find myself doing more than I should because of the actions of others and I, being professionally nice, don’t want people to think I’m letting them down. But if someone else promises that I will do something without first checking with me, then I should not feel responsible  for fulfilling their promise. It’s not my fault they misspoke, so I can, with a clear conscience say NO!

I know what has to be done, I now have to do it. Simple.


A more interesting challenge next.   I have been an atheist for most of my adult life, or perhaps I should say atheist/agnostic depending on how bloody minded I was feeling about certain issues.

And yet, strangely enough, I have always considered myself to have a spiritual nature. It does seem a complete oxymoron, a spiritual atheist, but I cannot think of another way of describing how I feel about life.

The essence of a person, their character or personality, is most often expressed through their interactions with others or identified in the things they do for themselves and others . The basic energy of life is spent on making memories and although I’m able to accept that when we die the ability to exist as we once did disappears, something is left behind.

I don’t mean ghosts and spirits, I still think that’s a load of hogwash and I despise those who prey on the vulnerable by claiming to be able to put them in touch with loved ones who have ‘passed on’.

No, what’s left behind is a feeling; something beyond words.  If you sit and think about someone who died, someone you loved, then I’m certain you’ll have experienced that feeling. That feeling is found in the  stories we tell and the memories we keep and will only completely disappear when there is no-one left to remember what it was like to have known and loved you. We will not only be dead, but forgotten.

Anyway, what I promise to make sure of in 2020 is that I explore this idea in more detail. I want to do some reading and research and try, once and for all, to see if there is a more human and spiritual way to live life.

I don’t want you thinking I’m converting to Catholicism or that I’m going to be knocking at your door with a copy of The WatchTower, organised religion will never be for me of that I’m certain.  I’m not looking for a personal God and I guess he/she isn’t looking for me as I’ve not been hiding and I’m quite big, so god alone knows how god missed me!

I just want to make sure that I’m able to be the very best version of myself that it’s possible to be and that means keeping a more open mind.



I’m hoping this year to look after my mental health too. Learning, or actually relearning a lesson that a very wise man taught me 23 years ago. Do not take responsibility for things beyond your control.

How others act towards you or think about you is their business, you just have to decide how to respond to it and sometimes the best response might be to ignore them.

I feel this would be a good time to stop and read ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling….well some of it:

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise


The only thing we can really do, each day of this year, of every year, is to try and make the best choices we can. For ourselves, our families, our communities, our world. Best choices guided by the best information we can find.


In summation, I guess in a very long winded way I have been saying this: I promise to do my best to give life the honour it is due.

Let’s see how it works out.





Tuesday 31 December 2019

Reviewing The Situation


31st December

Reviewing The Situation

New Year’s Eve seems to be the perfect day for glancing back over our shoulder at what has passed and then turning to face the undiscovered country of our futures.

From a work point of view, people continued to think I was worth employing from time to time. From the funerals of tiny babies, to those who had lived almost a century of life, I continue to tell the stories of the lives of those who died and maybe, on occasion, I did enough to ease the pain a little for the bereaved.

This was the year I also got to officiate at three weddings, all in Lincolnshire where apparently I’m very popular.

It is my plan to work a lot less next year, not least to follow my own advice about trying to get the balance between work and play right and have some fun, but also because….well, that’s a story for another day.

Personal highlights for 2019, other than the theatrical outings I mentioned the other day…attending 7 conventions and meeting some of my heroes, a wonderful family holiday to Northumberland, Polly loves going back to Pig Cottage,  enjoying classical music thanks to the Halle Orchestra, enjoying contemporary music thanks to Jack Pack, occasionally meeting up with some of those people who still, after all these years, are happy to be seen in my company.

But in truth 2019 was a rotten year and that was mostly through watching Mrs B and her family, going through the torture of seeing her mum being taken away, little by little, by dementia.

Margaret’s death was definitely something to be viewed with mixed feelings, a release from illness and pain but a cause of huge sadness for those who loved her.



This year gave me a chance to feel even more connected to the bereaved families I worked with, my empathy levels we certainly upgraded. We lost other family members this year, elderly relatives who had simply reached the end of their roads. Then Gil’s sudden death - well, that pain is still very real too.

Today our intention is to head to the coast, to spend some time walking on a beach. Fresh air, peace, time to think…about what cannot be changed and what still might.

These words, by Robert Sexton, I offer without agenda…

Time sweeps everything away. Like the ceaseless waves of a mighty sea, it clashes upon the shore of each human life, seizing the artefacts and elements with which we signify our existence; and - with neither disdain nor regard - it spirits them away. When it takes our sorrow or our despair, we may begin to believe that it is merciful. But when it steals beauty and innocence and charm and joy, we know that it is without compassion. Like the sea, time has no heart. It sweeps away everything. And neither our resistance nor our regret can stay its flow.



Thanks for being part of my 2019

I wish you enough health, both physical and mental, to be able to enjoy what lies ahead in 2020.

Here are a few faces from my year…




























Monday 30 December 2019

Are You Havin' Any Fun?

30th December

Are You Havin' Any Fun?

This morning I officiated at my last funeral of 2019 and I am now taking a well earned break from work…or that’s the plan.

Two weeks in which I might get around to some of the jobs I didn't get around to in the last 12 months.

I have some pictures to get valued and dispose of.
I have an office to de-clutter.
There is some tidying up to do in the garden.

I also have jobs that I don’t know about yet because Mrs B hasn’t planned them plus I may have jobs she already told me about but I forgot to do…that happens a lot.

I could say that as we stand on the cusp of a new year, a new decade, that I should turn over a new leaf and be more proactive about tackling these domestic chores but from experience, my newly turned leaves have a habit of blowing away.

I’m more than a little set in my ways.  I find it hard to summon up the energy to tackle the things I love so I have no chance of getting to grips with things I dislike.

I have already lived the majority of my life and I spent too many years doing things I didn't enjoy, so the days that remain are days I’d like to use wisely…or even profligately.


I know the jobs have to be done but I’m guessing like most people, when I die nobody’s going to stand over my coffin and say, “Drew regretted that he didn’t work harder on his chores”.

This is an irritating character trait that I freely admit to having. Irritating to others, not to me.

I don’t care about many of the things that others think are so important.  Not only do I not care about such things, but I also don’t care if you do care that I don’t care.

I don’t care if the lawn doesn’t look like a putting green. I’d rather be playing golf than trimming the lawn with nail scissors to make it look pristine.

I don’t care if the car is dirty. I’ll drive it to a car wash when I have a spare 15 minutes. I’m certainly not going to spend all day Sunday washing, polishing and stroking it in some lewd act of auto-masturbation. Sunday is the day of rest after all (even us atheists are willing to concede that one to whichever clever god came up with the idea).

I could list many more such time wasting jobs but that would be wasting time.

My opinion as to what is valuable in life is of course just that, my opinion and therefore very subjective. Others will find a different path to their contentment. What bugs me a little is the sometime judgmental attitude of others if you don’t power wash your hard standing every six months, or get the ladder out to check your guttering every time it rains.

If washing your car is fun for you, then carry on.
If winning prizes for the best kept garden makes your day then carry on.

But wherever you find your fun, just make sure you have some!

Some time for you, because eventually your time will run out and someone like me will be standing over your coffin, and what will I be able to say about you?



Are You Havin' Any Fun?






Sunday 29 December 2019

Tell Me It's Not True

29th December

Tell Me It’s Not True

It was a little joke that ended up with me be christened Camp-Pa.

Polly had hardly begun to talk but had mastered baby signing and someone suggested that as I was quite camp, I should be called Camp-Pa. It sort of stuck, and the sign that baby Polly would offer whenever she wanted Camp-Pa’s attention? Jazz hands.

So Camp-Pa was born although as Polly is now at school and growing up fast, she sometimes refers to me there as Uncle Andrew, which I’m equally happy to own - it’s a complicated relationship.

Anyway, at home she still calls me Camp-Pa but her little second cousin, Hugh, who is around 2 years old, he now calls me Polly’s Pomp-Pa.   How many names can one man have in his lifetime?

The reason I have spent valuable time telling you all of this is that last evening, Hugh came to call. He had been here last around Halloween, when he came trick or treating with Polly and me.

His memory of whom he had met on that occasion obviously well defined because after being here some time yesterday he suddenly asked “Where is Polly Pomp-Pa’s dog”?

Initial shock & surprise at the question being asked quickly turned to thinking how could we answer, especially as we were fighting back more than a few tears.

Hugh, bless him, unaware of the emotional impact of this query about Gil’s disappearance, kept repeating the question and it was then that Polly, aged 6, stepped in and rescued all the adults in the room.

“Hugh”, she said, “Gil was poorly and had to go to the vet and he’s still there”.

Hugh was totally satisfied with that answer and went back to playing, Polly joined him and the adults continued to sniffle just a little.

The strange thing is that earlier in the day I had a conversation with Polly about lying. She had basically asked if it was OK to tell a lie if no-one was hurt and I had thought about it a bit and then said, I think that’s OK but you have to be very careful because you don’t always know what will hurt someone else.

She obviously worked out that on this occasion a little lie was not going to hurt anyone. Or maybe she believes it was true?

It got me to thinking about lies and the truth, and which is best or better to deal in. I’m guessing most people would think that the truth is better than a lie and yet we spend much of our lives lying to people to protect them from the pain of the truth.

We lie by omission if not in words, we divert attention elsewhere or we change the subject to avoid answering a question with brutal honesty especially if we know the answer will hurt someone we care about.

I know there are some people who love to use what they perceive as the truth to hurt people. They can then claim protection from the fallout by moralistically asserting that they only told the truth. They may be truthful but are they kind?

Sometimes the truth is inescapable and we do have to face it, and this is a dilemma I deal with through my work.

Death is the ultimate hard truth, and yet we try and avoid talking about death in an honest way.  We often find solace in the beautiful lies of poetry or the unproven but supposed truth of belief and religion.

Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped away into the next room…

Goodness knows how many times a year I read those words or offer the various other platitudes that people long for during that time of loss, words like…he’s not really dead as long as we remember him.

We hope to find comfort in the web of self deceit that we conspire to spin together.

Because the truth really can hurt. And why should we live with more pain than we need to?

Gil’s ashes sit in a small wooden box just a few feet from where I’m writing these words. He joined Jake and Danny, whose ashes also rest in small wooden boxes in the same corner of our dining room.

I’m too much wrapped up in my own atheism to believe that they padded over some rainbow bridge and scamper even now through endless meadows in doggy heaven, but I know some people need that fiction to help them cope.

In a world of fake news and alternative facts we should really be fighting to uphold the truth: the unassailable truth established in fact and reality.  We certainly should fight against allowing people in positions of power to pass off their opinions as facts. But in our daily interactions with other human beings, all as vulnerable as we are to the stresses and pains of life, maybe kindness is better than the truth on occasion?

Rainbow bridges, gone to be a star in heaven, still at the vets…much more palatable than the truth perhaps?