Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I shouldn't really be blogging right now. I should really be looking for work. And quickly.
It's 20 years since I left school, ill equipped for life in Thatcher's Britain, with just a handful of qualifications- if that handful was represented by Jeremy Beadle's tiny paw-that I managed to scrape together having somewhat lost interest in my education, during my first real bout of depression.
But despite, or maybe because of my melancholic moodswings I have always worked. Except when I didn't need to and took a few weeks off here and there to relax.
So here I sit, 38 years old, firing my disappointingly short CV off to random employers, and so far...nothing. Not a glimmer of interest. It's like my School Discos of 1984 all over again. In fact, in an attempt to relive these days to the full, I should really stick on my cherry red DMs, shabby cardigan and "Hatful of Hollow".
Actually. Hold on, "William It Was Really Nothing" is now blasting out and I'm feeling quite inspired. "the rain falls hard on a humdrum town, this town has dragged you down..."
Do you know, there might be something to this. I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, if you know anyone who wants to employ an indie loving, gentleman's outfitter/tailor/kilt salesman/ former independent radio presenter/blogger, let me know.

Slim Fast, Die Young

A week ago I came downstairs to find my 75 year old father lying on the floor. He was fitting, foaming at the mouth and was lost somewhere in the depths of a very deep diabetic coma. Although, at the time I couldn't be sure if his condition was related to his diabetes, I'd seem him have a hypo in the past, but this was different, his face was swollen, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth, his eyes were wide open, but there was no response from him. Paramedics were called and after they had administered 3 IV shots of glucose, they called for back up, having got no response from him. After an hour he was still out cold. However, slowly, very slowly, he started to come round. As he regained consciousness he became very distressed, but after another 15 minutes or so he was pretty much back to his normal self. The whole episode lasted about an hour and a half, and was one of the most frightening things I, or any other member of my family has ever gone through.


Now, I don't think I would normally post something this personal here, but this week saw a report published, and covered extensively by the BBC and others, of the latest trend for some diabetics to miss out their insulin injections for fear of getting fat.


Current estimates are that one third of young women with diabetes are using this method to keep slim, in the process they are risking blindness, nerve damage, kidney failure and heart disease. However, I'm not condemning them entirely for their actions. The society in which we live nowadays is very much obsessed with body image, where teenage girls, and boys have impossible role models to aspire to. To be anything over a size 6, or to be without the obligatory six-pack is to be unhealthy, ugly and a freak in these "Heat" obsessed times, whereas in reality, as a majority we are a nation of lardy arsed wobble bottoms- and remember, I come from a people who think nothing of putting a Scotch Pie on a roll, or deep frying in batter anything that doesn't move.


May I recommend the Deep Fried Pizza Supper, Pickled egg and a cheeky little bottle of Irn Bru?


So I won't condemn them, but their actions do anger me, to put their lives in danger in this way saddens me. Not that I've lived a blameless life myself. There was a point in my life when in my Top 5 list on BT Friends and Family, after my parents' and my girlfriend's number, listed as Number 3, was the telephone number for Pizza Hut Delivery, Sockets Heath, Grays, Essex. And I got staff discount in Oddbins, Lakeside.


I do think we need to educate (not lecture) people more when it comes to health and nutrition in this country, my own father's diabetes could possibly have been avoided if he'd been more careful in his lifestyle choices, my own body is on the verge of collapse having abused it quite spectacularly when younger, but it's not too late to make a change. Find a healthier balance. And make the most of the life we have.


And if I can give just one piece of advice to anyone reading this, it would this... Start each day with a bowl of porridge. A slow, gradual release of sugar into the bloodstream, lowers cholesterol and almost as tasty as the cold left overs of last night's Chicken Patia. I may have lied about that last bit.

I'm sorry, this has become a bit of a lecture. It's just that after seeing my dad the way he was, and knowing how much worse the whole episode could've been, it threw me a bit to read the story about diabulemia.

I'm leaving this post as a work in progress. I started out trying to come to terms with my own feelings about nearly losing my dad, but I became distracted first by the eating disorder side, but latterly by the role image alone plays in so many women's lives.

For young women to put their health at risk to look good, or at least to conform to the image society, or at least fashion, dictates is nothing new. But there seems to have been so little progress in over 300 years.

One of the first, and finest feminist books published was Mary Wollstonecraft's "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman" in 1792, yet in part it could have been written at any time in the past 25 years- image, sexuality and independence may be hot topics now on Loose Women, but they are nothing compared to the arguments put forward by Wollstonecraft at the tail end of the 18th Century. And, if you would indulge me, in time I would like to come back to this.

So for now I'll sign off. Maybe not my most coherent posting, but, it will all make sense eventually.

Now, if you would all turn to Chapter One in "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin...and pay attention, I'll be asking questions later.

Let's play Master and Servant

And so 3 months of good old fashioned family entertainment has come to it's conclusion in spectacular form. There may be spoilers ahead, so if you don't want to know the score, look away now.
It seems like only yesterday that we were saying hello to The Judoon and Martha Jones on the Moon, as nice lady from "dinnerladies" sucked the blood from poor old DC Dalglish, and yet here we are, Summer's here and the ride is over. For now at least.
But, oh what a ride. Only blip in the season was the 2 parter featuring those malevolent pepper pots, the Daleks in Manhatten. I'd have been happier with the Muppets myself.
However, if that was the low point in season, there were many, many high points. First and foremost, it was a beautiful series to watch, hopefully the BBC will allow the production team to spend as much as they want on the visuals, it's incredible to think how far things have developed in the world of Special Effects since the original series aired.
We also witnessed possibly the finest "Who" stories in Stephen Moffat's "Blink" and Paul Cornell's two parter "Family of Blood/Human Nature". Moffat also wrote last year's "Girl in The Fireplace" and Series One's "The Empty Child", so has really got his work cut on for next season. Paul Cornell was also responsible for "Father's Day" in Series One when Rose went back to meet her father, so again, no pressure!
And what of the actual cast? I have enjoyed seeing Freema Agyeman's character of Martha develop over this series, and I hope the rumour that we haven't seen the last of her is true. I liked her, she was refreshing to watch after Rose's latter smugness, she was funny and sassy, and was a great foil to the big fella.BBC One's Mr Saturday Night, John Barrowman in his Captain Jack guise was back, larger than life but more rounded than in previous outings, and all the better for that. But still very much behaving like a dog in heat, flirting like Bill Clinton at... well anywhere really.
Now if you are going to bring back a super baddie, you'd be unlikely to do better than have one played by Derek Jacobi and John Simm. The Master, now sans goatee, but still oozing charm, was resurrected with a fantastic end of series triple parter that put the world and The Doctor himself, to their collective knees. Although I have no idea what a collection of knees would be called, A Knobble? Anyway, it was good to have him back, and even though we last saw him being burnt in a funeral pyre, (ashes to ashes, as opposed to Life on Mars) I fully expect to see him back in the not too distant future.
And so finally to the former David McDonald from Paisley.
I am a long time devotee of the show, my earliest memory is of watching Doctor Who, in my high chair. No really, in those days, we had two televisions, both from the Co-op, both black and white, one had a picture but no sound, the other naturally had sound but no picture, so one sat on the other. And that's how we watched telly in our house in the early 70's.Thankfully we only had one channel, see blogs passim.
And as a long time devotee, I can say without any doubt, that David Tennant is everything that The Doctor should be, and so much more. He has evolved into the role, bit by bit ever since he first burst forth from Christopher Eccleston's firey leather jacket back in the Summer of 2005, and has made the role very much his. His performances have been a joy to watch, his acting has terrific depth and he displays marvellous comic timing time after time. Cheeky, funny, scary, dark and brooding. And, in a Bowie-esque way, rather sexy.
There will come a day soon when he's gone from the role, so, make the most of these glory days. His are very big Converse boots to fill.