A monumental month, episode 2 - 2015 - A year in review

THE SECOND HALF OF MAY - Part 6 of 12

The Doctor I saw was new to me, but it was the same surgery that treated my parents. They were well known up there as my father was the most sensitive person to medication that they had ever encountered and for months, pretty much all the GP’s there had been putting their heads together to try and find something that made my Dad more comfortable, so far without success.

“You and your Mum have had a trying time looking after him, haven't you?” he said. Yes, I guess we had, so I could do no more than agree.

“Well, it's taken its toll on you. Your blood pressure is very high, 155 over 95. I’ll put you on some medication to bring that down, plus I want you to do a fasting blood test and then an ECG. We’ll give you a bit of an MOT. In the meantime, try and take it a bit easier.”

So that was that. He said I had to take the tablets for a few months, probably NOT for the rest of my life, but certainly for the short term. I booked in for the blood test there and then, with the ECG being early in June.

Take it a bit easier… yeah, right. I had a new department to grow, elderly parents to look after and also a Wembley play-off final to attend! I also was concerned about how my new employers would view this; they’ve only just taken the firm over and within three days they could have had the quickest ever “Death-in-Service” claim in history, plus now someone that they have invested in has high blood pressure and orders to “take it a bit easier”. Hmm.

Well, I did try. A bit.

The play off final against Wycombe at Wembley on May 23^rd however was hardest. I just wanted a nice, non-eventful day with either team (preferably Southend, obviously) getting a comfortable win so there was no repeat of the semi-final drama, which clearly was the event that tipped me over the edge.

As it transpired, the game itself (or at least the first 90 minutes of it) did it’s best to accommodate my condition by being fairly staid and boring. I think at one point the commentators described it as “one of the worst games to grace Wembley” and it certainly wasn't edge of the seat stuff. We had a goal disallowed and a strong penalty claim denied, whilst our keeper made a decent save a few minutes from the end. That was about it. Tense? Yes. Exciting? Well, no, not really.

It was in extra time where Wycombe upped the ante by scoring first, the ball trickling over the line – but only just – via our keeper’s backside as the ball came down from the crossbar. Neither team looked much like scoring after that and so most thought that our goose was cooked with us being destined to spend another dreadful season in League 2. Wycombe were exhausted and trying to slow the game down by wasting time and falling over at every opportunity. There was only 20 seconds of extra time left when Southend's on-loan striker Joe Pigott fired into the net to send every Southend fan into delirium. I actually thought I was going to pass out. Wycombe were literally on their knees and there was only sufficient time to restart the match before calling time and signalling a penalty shootout. Oh. My. Word.

Fair play to all participants on both sides, a better set of penalties would be hard to imagine. Pressure? Barely, certainly none that was evident, although eventually it got to one of the Wycombe players as Southend's young keeper, Dan Bentley, threw himself to his left to palm his penalty onto the post and away to safety. Southend had won and were promoted!

It was a full 5 seconds before I realised what had happened. With a fuzzy and confused head, I managed to eventually get out of my seat before disbelievingly looking at the celebrations going on all around me. Realisation and joy then set in as the drama ceased; the game had become one of the most dramatic finals ever to grace Wembley, quite a contrast from the commentators comments made less than an hour before.

And so my mad, manic, monumental month drew to a close, me still in one piece and not yet halfway through the year.

Surely June must be a little less stressful? Although I do have the blood test and ECG results still to come…

A monumental month, episode 1 - 2015 - A year in review

THE FIRST HALF OF MAY - Part 5 of 12

So, where to start in a truly monumental, massive month where so much went on…

Well, as the song goes, let’s start at the very beginning. May 1^st, takeover day and the day I become an employee again. It was a Friday and largely uneventful, the day being taken up with administrative stuff, making sure all clients’ money was sent across accurately and reconciled correctly. After work we all toasted the 28 years of FWG and welcomed in the start of a new era.

May 2^nd saw Southend United’s day of destiny in the North West of England with their trip to Morecambe and the Globe Arena. Weather wise, it was absolutely not May 2^nd unless you happen to be in the Russian district of Oymyakonsky (officially one of the coldest permanently inhabited locales on the planet) and it rained constantly, making it an even more “interesting” experience. Without going into massive detail, we went 1-0 down early, equalised, threw everything at Morecambe only to get caught on the break – twice – and lost 3-1. This would have been enough to secure promotion if Bury had lost, but surprise, surprise, they didn't. Play-offs for us then. We did have a good day out though and the match shall be forever known as “The game what we lost” (see what I did there?).

The weather down south was distinctly different and on the Sunday, Dawn suggested a walk in the woods as she had a bit of a headache. Off we went on this bright, early summers day, chatting, carefree, contemplating Southend’s play-off chances and the potential General Election result when all of a sudden,.. BANG! CRACK!

Then a scream.

I got up from the deck to discover a pile of debris on the floor next to me with Dawn on her knees a few feet away, clutching her skull and in obvious agony. Some dead wood had fallen from the boughs of the tree, some 30 feet or so above us, landing straight on top of us as we walked underneath. I escaped with a couple of scratches but Dawn got clumped “good and proper” on the noggin, meaning a trip to A&E with her neck being put into a brace. This also meant she missed taking her eldest, Megan, out for her 18^th birthday meal we were due to have later that day.

This confined Dawn to bed for a few days where she was able to fully take on board how lucky she had been and also consider the plight of the poor Nepalese people who had their habitat decimated in the massive earthquake the month before. She used her enforced non-working time to pull together as many people as she could to put on a fund raiser for Nepal, which raised nearly £4000. A cracking effort.

As for Dad, he was going along as before and had had some railings installed in the garden so he could walk up and down without fear of falling, he really was getting frail now.

Southend's first play-off semi-final came around and they eked out a 1-1 draw at Stevenage, with the second leg being at Southend's home, Roots Hall, on May 14^th. This was an incredibly tense affair, with Southend initially going 1-0 down, equalising and then missing a last second penalty to send the game into extra time. In one of the most dramatic matches I have ever witnessed, we eventually wrapped up a 3-1 win and won through to get to the Wembley play off final against Wycombe on May 23^rd, but not before some major scares!

No liquid celebrations took place that night – save that for winning at Wembley - and I went to bed, delirious on the ecstasy of what I had witnessed earlier.  The following morning I awoke, and the room immediately went on tilt. I felt incredibly dizzy for a few seconds, and then it passed. Thinking maybe I had got up too quickly, I carried on and got ready for work, but this pattern continued throughout the day. I called my GP (a very rare occurrence I might add) and spoke to the receptionist, with the conversation going something like this :

Me – “Can I make an urgent appointment to see the doctor please, I really feel quite odd.”

Receptionist – “I'm sorry, appointments are about 7-10 days away unless it’s an emergency. Is it an emergency?”

Me – “Well, all day I have felt dizzy and swimmy, the room keeps going sideways and I haven't had anything alcoholic to drink. You tell me; is that an emergency?”

Receptionist – “Hang on.”

<Pause>

“Doctor says come in immediately.”

Bloody hell.

The calm before the storm and some devastating news - 2015 - A year in review

APRIL 2015 - Part 4 of 12

With one of the major events of the year out of the way, April felt a bit like “the calm before the storm”, as I spent most of the working month getting everything ready in the firm ahead of the BTMK takeover on May 1^st. The aim is to expand their Private Client department into one of the strongest and biggest in the South East and I am looking forward to the challenge.

There was however, one piece of devastating news; I took Dad to the Oncology clinic for the results of his Prostate Cancer tests. Unfortunately, it had not responded to treatment and had now spread into the bone. Because of his hyper-sensitivity to medication of pretty much all forms (even anti-nausea tablets made him sick) and generally due to his frailty (his weight had dropped from over 11 stone before Christmas to about 8 stone now), we were told that there was nothing more that could be done for him and it was just a case of keeping him comfortable for as long as he had left, whether that be weeks, months or years.

I guess it’s what I had expected but it still isn't easy to hear. Death is inevitable, one of the only certainties in life, but even though we know we can’t avoid it, we never seem to be prepared to deal with it when it happens. The doctors were unable to be more precise, but I think with Dad having zero appetite and eating barely enough to feed a sparrow, deep down I knew that it wasn't going to be all that long.

So most of my spare time in April was spent supporting Mum and making sure she was nourished and well enough to continue looking after Dad and keeping him as comfortable as could be.

Aside from that, which made this month quite an emotionally draining one, I took some cheer from the rising fortunes of Southend United, who won every game in April. The highlight of this month was a trip down to Exeter by plane for a load of us for a legendary weekend in which the game was secondary, but nonetheless we won with an injury time goal which had brought the impossible dream ever closer. 

At the end of March, we had needed to win our last 8 games to stand a chance of automatic promotion and as we had won 5 and then went on to win the next two matches, we were in third position going into the last game of the season, away at Morecambe on May 2^nd and a win would guarantee League One football next season. A crowd of us were going to go up on a charter flight put on by the club, and we had sold over 2200 tickets, meaning the crowd would be approximately 50/50 split between Morecambe and Southend fans. We had never beaten them before in a league game in 9 attempts, but surely with such a voracious away following and with them having nothing to play for, this would be our day?

A New Home - 2015 - A Year in review

MARCH 2015 - Part 3 of 12

March 2015 gave us a new home, which meant we weren't renting and one day would have a property that wouldn't cost a fortune every month! Grant House had been in my family ownership since the mid 1970’s when it was purchased by my Mum’s sister and her husband. My Aunt sadly passed away within a year or so of moving in, but Albert stayed until 1990 when he suffered a stroke and went to live with his daughter in Newcastle until his death a few years later.

My parents bought it from them in the mid 90’s and we used it as an office until the firm outgrew it in 2003 and moved to Leigh Broadway, but Dad continued to work from there and being a bungalow, it was ideal to see the elderly or disabled clients who couldn't manage stairs.

But as of now, it will be a family home again. It was a bit of a culture shock as we have had to lose a lot of stuff - it’s about ½ the size in floor area - but it is so much more manageable, giving us (theoretically) more time. We’ll see. But part of our New Year resolution has been fulfilled… we are getting smaller!

It wasn't without some sort of last minute drama though, as you would expect; the day before moving in the fridge was discovered as being ½ cm too high, which posed an interesting conundrum for the kitchen fitter who had to re-make one of the cabinets to accommodate, and EE completely mucked up our internet, meaning that for the first few weeks we had no Wi-Fi. This affected the girls more than us of course, and more than a few minutes amusement was had watching them either sitting against the back door or hanging out of the window in all weathers trying to connect to Mum and Dad's!

My parents, of course, were absolutely delighted with the move and I think Dad now felt as though everything was complete; I was 100% on hand to help Mum as he entered the final stages of his life. I know she was thankful for the fact that I was next door and this gave her great support. Dawn was brilliant and treated them as if they were her parents; nothing was too much trouble.

We have pretty much decided that this is where we’ll stay, as it is a place that will not be too big for two and also on one level, important in our later years as we enter our decrepitude. Having said all that, I sincerely hope that we will be here for many, many years as despite being nearly 10 years older than Dawn, I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet!

Into second gear - 2015 - A year in review

FEBRUARY 2015 - Part 2 of 12

Beginning of the month

Mid month

End of the month

Into February we head, having given our landlord notice for the house we were renting which meant we MUST be in our new abode by March 18^th, exactly 5 years to the day we moved in. The house has been great, if very big, but then I guess it needed to be in order to accommodate the brood. However, it was nigh on impossible to keep on top of the housework and consequently always looked like a bomb had hit it, forcing three different cleaners to leave due to the fact that they were “fighting a losing battle”. On the plus side, we avoided being burgled as any would-be-thief would think someone else had got there first…

Anyhow, this month was a race against time to make sure the new place was ready. A spell of horrendous weather now could spell disaster and delays for our moving in, so it was all a bit frantic with fingers, legs and everything else being crossed. In the end however, Mother Nature was kind. The month saw terrific progress (see pictures above) with just the interior decoration and installation of the kitchen needing to be done ahead of moving day, March 10^th. 

I had the Mercedes taxed and MOT’d, ready for me to start using and Dad was delighted. He was at this time convinced he wouldn't live to see us move in next door but despite him being in great discomfort, there was nothing to suggest that that would be the case and he was still being expertly cared for by Mum. He did have Prostate cancer, but then most men of that age have, and it's something we usually die with rather than of. He had received an injection for that last month and had an appointment to go back in April, so the medics were hardly concerned in the short term.

In other news, things were moving on a-pace as the details for the sale of the firm were finalised and a completion date set for May 1^st. That was such a relief for both Dad and I as it now wouldn't be all just on my shoulders and I would also be provided with a new challenge, something that I was looking forward to immensely. 

Another great love of my life, Southend United FC, were also beginning to mount a serious promotion challenge so that they could clamber out of the basement league, a division containing teams mainly playing "anti-football", i.e. stopping you playing rather than beating you through better performances. Quite legitimate of course, but pretty dull and boring to watch.

So this month, with lots ahead, it did feel like the year was going through the gears, shifting into second and accelerating towards the inevitable. Nervous and exciting times!

"In the first month of New Year, my true love gave to me..." - 2015 in review

JANUARY 2015 (part 1 of 12)

Our “12 Months of 2015” haven’t been so much like the song "12 Days of Christmas", more of an epic 12 part drama series, so let’s start with January, or, to be exact, just before that; 25^th December 2014, when I had Christmas at my parents’ house for the first time since I left home in 1983. The house next door – our old office and which in March would become our new home – was a building site (see above). I was in advanced negotiations regarding the sale of the business to a local firm of solicitors, BTMK, and Mum was acting as a 24 hour carer to my father, whose health had been deteriorating. I was doing the vast majority of their shopping, running around, doctor and hospital visits (all in between clients) so was pretty darn busy, as you can imagine. Dad hadn't driven since August and travelling anywhere was painful as he had a lot of discomfort in his back, neck and arms. It was clear that he wouldn't be going anywhere and as it was my turn to have the kids for Christmas day, we brought Christmas to him, emptying their conservatory in order to get everyone in.

Time was precious and there wasn't enough of it to do the usual present/food shopping, so Amazon and our local Cook! franchise became our best friends, providing 90% of the presents and 100% of the Christmas dinner, plus leftovers. It was a lovely day, Dad being in the middle of the table, surrounded by the most important thing in his world; his family. As it turned out, it was to be his last Christmas and I am forever thankful that we had that day.

Dad - in the thick of it on the left

So as for January itself, the house was coming along nicely, the weather was kind to allow the workmen to press on and Dad finally accepted he wasn't going to be driving again so gave me his 1997 Mercedes C180 with only 31000 miles on the clock. It has never let me down, unlike the Peugeot 207SW that I took to Oxford with a mate for a Southend game during this month (we won 3-2) and which broke down 10 miles outside Oxford on the way back, meaning a recovery job and getting home at about 01:30am.

There was so much going on at the time with the house renovation, the business and Dad deteriorating that New Year’s resolutions (if there were any at all) went out the window. I have found a social media post from New Year’s Eve 2014 during which both Dawn and I have vowed to be “getting smaller” in 2015. Certain aspects of our lives have, but sadly my waistline hasn't. Note to self - must try harder.

There, their, they're...

Many years ago when I was at school, my old English teacher Keith Warren (who may well read this and remember) told us about a local car repair centre that had a big sign on the window that read “EXHAUST'S”. He used to wind them up by going in and saying “Whose?” They used to look puzzled, he used to walk out and they were none the wiser. Well, I assume that was the case anyway, because the sign remained unchanged for years.

If you've reached this point and are wondering what the hell that was all about, then I fear the crux of this blog has already been lost and will probably irritate you as much as the flagrant abuse of our beautiful language has, in the past, irritated me. And others. (Yes, yes, I know that’s alliteration but it’s my blog and this is the point I’m making. Kind of. Please read on.)

Spelling is one thing. I have seen billboards advertising our local paper and they contain horrendous (and annoying) spelling errors, such as this -

Our main local shopping area has a very nice café with a sign that, until recently, had said “COFEEE SHOP”. There is a brilliant florist that has had her window professionally sign-written so that she can provide floral bouquets for, along with other things, “Extraodinary events”. The local golf club had a sign up for a few weeks that said, in foot high letters, “NEW MEBMERS WELCOME” and a sign was on the door of a closed shop for ages saying that it was unable to open due to a “brevement”.

But when it comes to the use of grammar and the correct use of a word... well I'm fed up with constantly seeing what people "would of" done instead of "would have", how they will borrow you something rather than lend it to you, how they "loose" something instead of "lose" it and then ask for "advise" and not "advice".

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner. A current online advert for M&S displays a range of "Umbrella's" (we're back to the "exhaust's" thing again). The link is here - but by the time you read it, a correction may have occurred so you'll just have to take my word for it.

M&S Umbrella online blooper

Now I have friends who are far more "grammar activist" than me and for them, this has nearly caused a seizure. Marks and Spencer! A top 100 listed FTSE company for heaven’s sake! Now they really should know better; surely they must employ people specifically for the task of actually checking stuff like this? How slipshod is that? Does it show a sign of not caring, or is it just that there are so many people these days who don’t actually realise what’s wrong?  After all, for the last 15-odd years, “text-speak” has infiltrated into most written forms of communication and the phrase “C u tomoz” is almost acceptable. How long before our language evolves so much, that newspaper headlines use such abbreviations as the norm? Imagine - Kate Middleton gets another bun in the oven which turns out to be slightly overcooked... The Sun comes out with a headline like "Royal Babs L8. Due Tomoz."

So, I ask the question - Does it actually matter? Really?

Enthralled by the recent-ish TV series "Sherlock", starring the brilliant and interestingly named Benedict Cumberbatch as the great detective, I started reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original stories, written 125 years ago. The language is quite different to that which is in common use now (it actually had to be re-written and dumbed-down for the American market. Fact.).

In the first book, "A Study in Scarlet", Holmes deduces that someone was a retired sergeant of the Marines from just his appearance. ""Wonderful!" I ejaculated." was Watson's response. "Steady on", I thought, "that must have been one hell of an exciting deduction! I didn't know it was THAT kind of book!" But of course, it was clearly just the correct use of a word that - as with the word "gay" - in modern times gives itself to a different and very specific meaning. 

If we go back to Shakespeare then the language is even more unfamiliar (check out the billboard advert below). 

Rewind even further to the 14^th century and Geoffrey Chaucer, known as the Father of English Literature, wrote "The Canterbury Tales" in almost a different language completely (Middle English); practically unreadable without a modern day translation.

Is it therefore just the natural modernisation and evolution of our language that we have arrived at today? 

The naming of a girl band a few years ago called “Girls Aloud” – clever word play – has resulted in many thousands of teenagers who now believe that they are not “aloud” to do something. Street speak has introduced many new words and rarely a meal goes by in my house without the kids declaring that their food is “Peng” (it’s a compliment – I think). The letter “z” has in many places replaced the letter “s” and generally things keep changing which, as you get older, becomes the hardest thing to accept. 

There is comfort in familiarity and any deviation from this represents another power shift to the young upstarts who, let’s face it, are going to be around in this world for longer than I've got left. I remember my old Nan moaning in 1971, when decimalisation was brought in and she couldn't understand it, that “They should have waited until all the old people had died first!"

Aside from the comedy of that statement, there is never a good time for change; we just have to embrace it and move on.

So is it in fact this loss of control that is the real bugbear here?

I have recently found a really good video article from Stephen Fry on the modern use of language and it’s a great retort to the grammar police. The link is here, I urge you to watch.

Stephen Fry - language excerpt

I must say that it has softened my stance and I am probably now more in the camp that thinks “Oh well, never mind.” 

Life’s too short, I know what is meant and that’s probably good enough.

Innit blud?