Niceness

In my old Sheffield school, there was a senior teacher called Joe Lyons. He hailed from Northern Ireland and was The Head of Lower School. In this role he often had to lead school assemblies and I was witness to very many of them.

When addressing issues of misbehaviour, Joe would often revert to one of his stock sayings: "It's nice to be nice". After hearing him use it a hundred times, I came to appreciate that it is indeed "nice to be nice". People can be very good at criticising or knocking down but forgetful about the simple process of being nice to others. There's a lot to be said for niceness.

On Saturday night, I was in our local pub with my friend and former colleague Jonathan who now lives and works in Taiwan. As we were about to leave the pub, a middle-aged woman approached me. I recognised her because she had worked behind the bar a few years back.

To paraphrase as best I can, this is what she said: "I was just saying to my friends that when I worked here you were the one person who was always very nice to me. You treated me with respect without fail. I never said that to you before and I thought if I don't say it now, I might never say it. Thank you."

This was all most unexpected. I gave her a bear hug and departed. It gave me a rosy feeling. I had been boosted by her niceness.

Today, I had to take my sleek silver car Clint to the Hyundai automobile hospital because there was a problem with his heater blowing mechanism. For the second time in the past month I was dealt with by a young service desk receptionist called Lizzy.

When the job was done, Lizzy led me outside to show me where Clint was parked and that's when I asked for her name. I told her that when the online customer satisfaction survey came  through I would mention her.

"Why's that?" asked Lizzy.

"Because on the two occasions you have dealt with me you have been very pleasant, very polite and very efficient. I just want to sing your praises. It's not always like this when cars are taken to garages for work to be done."

Lizzy smiled. I know I brightened her day and that gave me a good feeling too. After all, it is nice to be nice isn't it?

Saatchi

The Saatchi Gallery near Sloane Square in West London is housed in a former army building - The Duke of York regimental headquarters. Admission is free to all.

Sponsored by the fabulously wealthy Saatchi brothers, the spacious building houses ever changing exhibitions of modern art and photography. Because it is a good distance from London's main tourist hotspots, it seems to enjoy a better degree of tranquility and when Shirley and I visited it on Friday we were pleasantly surprised that the place was not thronging. It was possible to tarry a while and absorb the exhibits without being stressed by crowds. In one or two of the gallery rooms we were sometimes alone.

I like to feel that I am open-minded about modern art. Equally, I am unafraid to call something "rubbish" if that is how it appears to me. Fortunately, on Friday nearly all the artefacts on show seemed to have merit and we enjoyed our peaceful visit.

It was good to walk around Jean-Francois Bocle's "Everything Must Go" (2014) which consists of 97,000 ubiquitous and semi-inflated blue plastic bags. Each bag represents just one of the estimated 97,000 African people who died during transportation to the Americas when the transatlantic slave trade was at its height. Simultaneously, the blue bags also speak critically of plastic pollution in the world's oceans.

Yamal Peninsula, Russia September 2018 by Yuri Kozyrev

There was also a marvellous display of photographs from the far north of this planet - showing the effects of global warming and man's intrusion into these wilderness lands.   The photographers were Yuri Kozyrev and Kadir van Lohuizen who I am sure are well known to all readers of this blogpost. They were capturing  region that is increasingly gripped by change.

I am aware that The Saatchi Gallery has in its possession many notable pieces of modern art by artists such as Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin and Rachel Whiteread but this influential and ofttimes controversial work is not displayed permanently. That discovery disappointed me. However, there was enough good Art on display to make us feel that our visit had been very worthwhile. To find out more about The Saatchi Gallery, please visit the website.

"The Ochre Guitar" by Florence Hutchings (2018)

London

Regular visitors to this blog may recall that my sleek silver South Korean automobile is called Clint. On Thursday, Clint kindly whisked Madam Pudding and I to England's capital city. This afternoon he brought us home again - safe and sound. It took us just three hours to get home. We brought Princess Pudding with us to attend an old friend's thirtieth birthday party.

 Mostly we were in London to attend the full launch of "Bish Bash BOSH!" at the old Trumans Brewery on Brick Lane. This was the venue for a monthly event called "Vegan Nights". There was a wide range of vegan food outlets, a long bar selling expensive alcoholic drinks and a stage from which loud dance music was being emitted. And we were surrounded by vegans, hundreds and hundreds of them.

It was as if we had landed on Planet Vega. Take me to your leader!

And then Ian and Henry were on stage. Ian demonstrated the cooking of four recipes from the new cookbook while Henry DJ'd and the inhabitants of Vega grooved to the music. I found myself dancing with a former "Blue Peter" presenter called Andy Akinwolere who is one of Ian and Henry's London chums.

Later the lads signed copies of their book and had photos taken with fans and followers. It was a helluva night.

Friday was a more leisurely day for Madame de Pudin and I. We used underground trains to get to Sloane Square from where we walked the short distance to the Saatchi Art Gallery.  (I will blog about this tomorrow or on Monday)

We spent a couple of hours in there perusing the exhibits before having a late lunch in the humble Piccolo Sandwich Bar on Sloane Road. Then we headed down to The River Thames after passing The Chelsea Hospital before wandering along the riverside then up to Pimlico. Soon we were back on underground trains, rattling home to Wood Green.

Pictures:- 

Top - The old Battersea Power Station under development

Second - Mural near Brick Lane

Third - Henry and Ian groovin' & a-cookin' at Vegan Nights

Bottom - Food van waiting for Vegan Nights to begin

Timetable

Yesterday - 8.30am - Ian and Henry perform admirably on The Radio Sheffield Breakfast Show in conversation with the morning presenter and local stand-up comedian Toby Foster.

10am - I am upstairs having a shower when Ian arrives home with Henry and their Public Relations assistant - Sarah.

10.15am - A man arrives from Cambridge in a brand new Renault Kadjar. It's shiny and black and it is a free gift to the Bosh! boys. Renault like the idea of associating with Bosh!

10.30am - Henry reverses the new car into a big tub near our front door. It contains a little fir tree. I hear the tub crack and rush outside. The car is undamaged but the tub is no longer circular.

10.40am - I take the car delivery man down to the railway station.

11.05am - A Mercedes van parks outside our house. It contains Nicola Rees, a BBC TV reporter based in Leeds. She is with Mark - her cameraman. They are at our house to get footage for a good news item that will appear in the evening edition of "Look North"

11.30am - I telephone Shirley at the health centre and urge her - if possible - to get home early as "Look North" want to include her in the Bosh! news item.

12.00pm - The BBC filming continues and Shirley comes home. Nicola Rees interviews her out on the lawn.

1.00pm - I consume a quick lunch and phone Oxfam to say I might be a bit late but they are short staffed so I promise to get down to the shop as soon as I can.

6.00pm - I get back home. We have a quick tea (Yorkshire for "dinner").

6.30pm - We turn on our television to watch "Look North". There's Ian and Henry and there's Shirley on the lawn. Two hours of filming has been turned into a three minute news item.

7.00pm - We jump into the sleek silver Puddingmobile whose name is Clint and zoom into the city centre where we have trouble finding a parking place.

7.35pm - We have arrived at The Pennine Theatre in Sheffield Hallam University. We watch Henry and Ian being interviewed by Paulette Edwards and fielding questions from an audience of two hundred and fifty.

8,30pm - Ian and Henry are signing books in the foyer and they are having pictures taken  with some of their fans - if that is the right word.

9.00pm - We pop into "The Rutland Arms" for drinks before heading home. I take a picture of a political placard on which these words are written - "Trump putting the dick in dictator"

10.00pm - We drive home. We hope that Ian and Henry and Sarah get back safely to London in the new car.

Midnight - I finish writing this blogpost.

Newsworthiness

"Bish Bash BOSH!" will be launched this week. If you have not been following this particular thread, it's the name of our son Ian's second cookbook. With his "BOSH!" partner Henry, Ian worked like crazy through the middle of last year to get the new book ready for the publishers.

And now the launch week has arrived. See the double page spread above. This was in yesterday's edition of "The Star" - Sheffield and South Yorkshire's main evening newspaper.

In addition, the lads appeared in Britain's best-selling daily newspaper - "The Sun". That's Mick Jagger on the front page with news about his impending heart operation.

But turn to page 20 and there are Ian and Henry along with three recipes from "Bish Bash BOSH!". The green headline, "Plant and Dec" is a reference to Ant and Dec - Britain's most successful TV presenters.

This morning Ian and Henry will appear on The Radio Sheffield breakfast show and in the evening the new book will get it's first outing down at Sheffield Hallam University.

Tomorrow - Thursday - Shirley and I will be heading down to London for the book's proper launch at Vegan Nights on Brick Lane. On Friday, Ian and Henry will be at Waterstones book shop in Bristol and then on Saturday the lads will be on national radio - courtesy of Radio 2's  Graham Norton Show.

It's all a fairground ride that keeps on running and running. Maybe one day the roller coaster will stop but until that happens, Ian and Henry plan to stay on board and enjoy the ride - where ever it takes them. Bish! Bash! BOSH!

Failure

Don't confront me with my failures

I had not forgotten them - Jackson Browne

It didn't work did it? For weeks, I had been planning my cunning April Fool's blogpost, hoping to catch out a  legion of bloggers and other visitors. The mass humiliation would have been exquisite and I could have basked in the glorious amusement of my trickery for many days. But it didn't happen. I hate to admit it but I am an April Fool failure. Boo hoo!

I have experienced a fair amount of failure in my life. I guess that most people can say that - perhaps including you dear reader. Most of the time, people tend to keep quiet about their failures, preferring to showcase their achievements and promote a positive image of themselves. But inside ourselves we will often mull over past failures. That kind of thinking tends to be lonely and unheard.

Work. That's a fertile zone for feelings of failure.

It's close to ten years since I gave up my teaching career and took early retirement. At that time I was The Head of English in a challenging secondary school. I had been in that same role since 1995 - almost fifteen years in total. With regular inspections, lesson observations, unrealistic expectations and initiative after new initiative being churned out in some distant governmental initiative factory, I had become tired of the whole shebang. I was working sixty hours a week and my weekends and holidays were never free. There was always something in my black school bag - just waiting to be done.

The school's manic headteacher was happy to climb aboard every new bandwagon that came along. But ultimately she was one of those leaders who can talk the talk without walking the walk. "Hypocrite" and "windbag" are labels that would have sat well with her. She did not have my respect and she was definitely a factor in my choice to leave early. I had simply had enough of it.

Turn the clock back even further to 1991. I was Second in English in the same school but I was looking to get out. I applied for six head of department positions in other parts of Yorkshire. Scarborough was especially attractive to me.

I would spend ages on my job applications, honing the language, researching the school, identifying priorities. Out of the six applications I made, I was invited to five interviews, two of them in Scarborough. I would polish my shoes and put on my best suit.

The interview days were gruelling. It was almost as if you were being interviewed to be the next Secretary General of The United Nations. The verdict was usually given after five o'clock in the evening and to put it bluntly -  five times I failed.

It left me wondering what was wrong with me. What was I lacking? I had an excellent c.v., I was super-dedicated and passionate about my work. I was articulate and resilient. In the end, I think they were sometimes suspicious of me. They wondered if I was a team player. In appointing me, perhaps they would be bringing a rebel into their midst.

Maybe they could tell that in my heart of hearts I really wanted to be a poet, a rock star, an artist - not the leader of English in an obscure school far from anywhere. The same treadmill firing up every September. Familiar faces, familiar problems.

I came close to getting The Head of English role at Scalby School - the best state secondary school in Scarborough. After the interview process, the headteacher took me aside and apologised saying that it had been touch and go between me and the winning candidate who had been their Second in English for five years. He wished me well.

The next day, with a degree of reluctance, I agreed to be promoted to the role of Head of English in my Sheffield school and that's where I stayed. But I always regretted the fact that I was unable to make the leap to a different, less challenging school - taking my young family to another life in a different part of Yorkshire.

I have known other failures unconnected with work but I will keep them to myself. Fortunately, I am able to keep my failures in perspective. They don't overwhelm me or hang about in the forefront of my mind. I guess it is part of the human condition to endure failure but in these increasingly brash modern times it has become almost taboo to admit to our failings. As a Judy Garland song from long ago went, "Keep your sunny side up!" because nobody wants to know about the other stuff.

Cash

Whoopee-doo! A letter has just arrived from Littlewoods Football Pools in Liverpool. I have won just under £100,000! £99,875.12 to be exact. It's almost unbelievable!

Rather than keeping all of this money to myself and my family, I have decided to give £10,000 to one lucky blogger! You have to spread the love around. At today's rates £10,000 is $13,094US.

I am open-minded about who will receive the money or for what purpose. To be in with a shout of winning it, all you have to do is to leave your bid in the comments below. Just tell me what you want the money for. Please don't go into too much detail. Just a brief, succinct explanation will do. Bids that are too lengthy will be rejected.

It could be you! Good luck!