Curing those post-christmas blues...

Here we are then....December 27th and the annual bout of post Christmas blues has kicked in. When counselling me this morning, Lynda asked "If you had to choose between a holiday in the sun or Christmas, which would you choose?"  "Easy" I said. "I could give up my annual holiday and I often have, but I could never give up Christmas!

What is it that makes Christmas so special to us?  For the believers amongst us there is of course only one answer to that.  For the
"semi and non" believers I guess we would talk about getting together with family and friends...the christmas presents we exchange...and all the food and drink that we feast on.     Once upon a time we would also have talked about the great programmes on TV.  No likelihood of that this year with the depression rendering plots of Eastenders and the oh so lost it The Royle Family occupying prime-time viewing slots on Christmas Night.

Speaking for myself I love everything about Christmas...particularly the preparation and the anticipation. Starting on December 1st and decorating the tree and the house in a totally camp way. Buying gifts and stocking-fillers  for every one. Watching the expressions of delight on Christmas morning. I love the feasting part too...including the excesses of sweets and nuts and Christmas cake. I do wonder about the tin of Christmas biscuits though that just sits on the side...but it wouldn't be Christmas without it.

And it wouldn't be Christmas if we didn't get that inevitable attack of post-christmas melancholy!  After all the anticipation and then the emotional frenzy of Christmas Day, it seems to abruptly come to an end.  I try various self-help remedies...like arranging my opened presents back under the tree as if Santa has yet to visit???? .....it doesn't really help!
I had always put my post-christmas blues down to the fact that I simply enjoyed all the anticipation. What I better understand now is that decorating the house for the admiration of visiting loved ones, cooking them the pre-christmas pasta, giving them presents that hopefully please are ways in which I can show the extent of my feelings. Knowing that if I attempted to say it in words, that I would get totally emotional and fill up....just as I do when watching that final scene of Elf with Will Ferrell when the crowd in Central Park need to sing to get Santa's sleigh to fly!!!  (Another essential part of the pre-christmas build up!)
And I reckon it's the same for most of us. Whatever are our beliefs or reasons for celebrating Christmas, it is that unique period in the year when not only do we share expressions of goodwill....but we also find a way to tell those we love...just how much we do. Then we stop...no wonder we feel melancholy!
So come on then.....to cure those post-christmas blues....carry on wishing others "all the best!" and telling people what they really mean to you. OnWeGo!!!!!!! 

Something of value for Christmas!

I cooked the annual pre-christmas "spag bol'" for my daughters and grand-children last night. Holly calls it my token spag bol' ...but she does mean it in the special occasion sense of the word. It's something the old silverback loves to do, and it is always greeted with great appreciation amongst the progeny who proclaim it the "best of all" bolognaise with "better than anyone else's" salad.

Inevitably the occasion becomes nostalgic, and last night was no exception when we viewed several boxes of the old 35 mm slides.  My daughter's suggestion, not mine! And of course 35 mm slides are bound to be nostalgic because we all gave up taking them 20 years ago. But they caused great amusement. For the fashions....those Kevin Keegan shorts will never come back! For the comparatively austere decor. For those furnishings some of which survive to this day (I don't think I could physically remove the three seater settees from my present home?)  And because the evidence from the slides was that it was always good old dad who played with the girls when they were small, whilst their mother seemed to spend all her time lying on a sun lounger!!
Watching these golden oldie moments I also found myself recalling situations that we encountered as a family. I probably applied a bit of rose tinted retro-viewing but it did seem that we showed good guidance as parents. We often joke about the ex's disciplined approach to bed time. I can't really believe that the girls were still being sent to bed before it got dark when they had reached their teens!!
So I was particularly interested to read today about recent research carried out at the University of Toronto's Rotman School of Management. on the impact of disciplined parenting. This extract from esciencenews explains it:
Children whose parents use a firm parenting style that still allows them to test the rules and learn from it are more likely to assume leadership roles as adults according to a new study published in a recent edition of The Leadership Quarterly. Researchers used data from a long-term Minnesota study of twins. They found that children raised with an "authoritative" parenting style – where parents set clear limits and expectations while also being supportive of their children – assumed more leadership roles at work and in their communities later in life. While these children were also less likely to engage in serious rule-breaking, children who did engage in serious rule-breaking were less likely to assume leadership roles."Some of these early examples of rule-breaking behaviour, more the modest type, don't necessarily produce negative outcomes later in life – that was fairly intriguing," says Maria Rotundo, a professor "It doesn't mean all children of authoritative parents are going to become leaders, but they are more likely to."

It certainly corresponds with what I had always believed about the early-years fixing of lifelong attitudes. And that says it all really....what I had always believed.  Because it is those beliefs and values that were instilled by those closest to us when we were first learning about things that remain with us, shaping our attitudes and behaviours throughout life.  If we were fortunate they will have been good values. Either way they become deeply rooted and all of us find it difficult to alter our habits and behaviours that are based on these beliefs. Something we clearly experience when we try to change what we regard as disappointing behaviour and attitude in others.

So here's a suggestion for any of us still struggling with what to give the little 'uns this christmas. As well as that  particular toy that was on the letter to Santa....which of course will be much loved but probably played out by next christmas....
.... how about giving the gift of a guiding value for life?

"Investigate things and how they work!"

One of my favourite reads is the weekly newsletter "eureka" from esciencenews.com.  It's a round up of scientific research going on just about everywhere on anything. As I got older I used to be surprised how much there was still to learn. Yes seriously... I really did. Then I got wise and realised that clever people recognise how little they do know. Then I grew out of my intellectual self-analysing phase and just enjoyed being curious!
 "Be curious" was the lesson I learned from a lovely old guy I once knew, who although well into his 80's, was mentally as sharp as they come. "Investigate things and how they work" was his philosophy.
It was this enquiring mind, coupled with his talents as a tool-maker that lead him to design and make a spinning top. Not any old spinning top but one that would hold the Guiness Book of Records title for the world's longest spinning top!  Yes he was purposeful as well.   Each day he would be up with the lark and into the local Tesco at opening time, no sleeping in for him. Although he never made a thing about it, Bill's enquiring mind was as fit as it would have been in his youth.
I remember back in '98 driving with him and his younger sister of 78 as as we visited a long lost relative in Essex. They were arguing in the back seat over the details of a similar journey they used to make as children travelling to see an Aunt from their home in Southend-on-Sea. Younger sister thought that she remembered the journey. Older brother Bill knew that he remembered it. Maybe that was the purposeful side kicking in. Why bother to remember all that detail? Unless of course it was to prove his younger sibling was wrong. But remember it he did, as he recalled with amazing detail all the images along the way.
Sadly I lost contact with Bill a few years ago but I'm sure he is still getting up early each morning... is giving himself a purpose for the day....has a "project" on his mind that he is questioning... and is trying to improve on the answers that he is given. Thanks for that Bill.

I couldn't feel it in my loins!

I went to our company Annual Conference last week and we finished off the day with the customary bit of team building...this time in the shape of Karting.
Now OnWeGo is all about doing things you've never done before....stretching your achievement limits....breaking the conventional link between maturity and sensible behaviour. So Karting met all of those criteria and I was definitely up for it.

I thought it would be a good opportunity to apply all the NLP training...to work on the inner resourcefulness...to get into the zone and all that.  Of course all the young dudes were doing their stuff...you know how excess testosterone makes them behave when there's a bit of a competition. And the mountain of pizza for lunch probably added to their hyperactivity. Even "IT" Rich couldn't resist pointing out that he left 10 minutes after me and still managed to arrive at the venue 10 minutes before me...clearly questioning my prospects at the Karting?? Mind games!! Huh!! They are easily dismissed, and I focused on my positive visualisation as I pulled on my Karting suit. That was the first problem! It seems that Karters are typically narrow of hip and getting into "the zone" proved difficult with my loins in a tournaquet! Choosing my helmet didn't help matters. "XL is blue" read the sign. My chosen blue helmet wouldn't go past my ears! "No!" Said an exasperated Rich. "it's the colour of the stickers on the visor."  I think he was being helpful? .. and not still playing mind games!

By now the positive affirmations were not working so well, and by the time the pre-race briefing had finished I suspected that I hadn't taken everything on board...and I was now numb from the waste down!!

For those that have never karted, let me explain that mental concentration and quick reactions are essential. I was decidedly lacking in awareness, both above the neck and below the waste...and it showed in my results!

Heats 1 to 3 left me languishing down the leader board and positive visualisation of a podium place was proving difficult. Now previously, in the warm up sessions, the testosterone soaked yahoos in the studio had laughed at the gentle driving style of the girls. This was bound to offend my old fashioned sense of gallantry... or maybe it was my dominant Assertive-Nurturing behavioural style that was taking over? But competitiveness was giving way to altruism.  I found myself turning my attention to encouraging the girls. Actually, I didn't have to turn at all. They passed me at will. Nor did I have to encourage them!!!

I didn't make the semi-finals. I had to endure the customary half-witticisms of Bill the Accountant. My kartsuit had to be peeled from my shoulders by a gracious and sympathetic Amie...bless her!  I even managed to get lost driving home.
So no personal glory for me but most definitely a good case for the "don't give up....keep on trying" spirit of  OnWeGo!  
Karting I will do again...... and next time????

The real secret of long life

Playing golf last week with my great pal Tony, I told him that he is the epitome of what OnWeGo is all about, and that when we get to create our Hall of Fame he'll be in it.  I was feeling fraternal at the time, after all I hadn't seen him in a year, the round was paid for, and he had laid on a buggy! But gratitude apart I have to say he is an OnWeGo role model.   He is 75, fit as a fiddle, quick witted and still selling membership packages for the FSB with the same passion as he did 20 years ago.
He also takes his golf very seriously. A regular player at Puckrup (and former Club Captain) he still felt that a 9 shots handicap allowance was all I deserved in our round of Stapleford. But he also knew he'd have to play at his best to beat me. And it's that wanting to do your best each day that I believe is the real secret of long life.
We should all marvel at the power of our minds when it comes to things like attitude and determination. Fighting off illness. Overcoming adversity. Raising performance levels in sport. Each week we hear news stories and read scientific research showing how a focused determined mind drives a strong body.

Only today I was reading of work at UCLA that again shows how mental exercise, be it from Sudoku, crossword puzzles or even surfing the net will counter the ageing effect on the brain.  My own anecdotal research would add having purpose to those "stretching exercises."  Regularly doing something that in some way or other requires that you "attempt your best." Whether that is playing to your best, and sport is great for that, or doing better in terms of learning a new skill. Because a stretched brain remains a healthy brain which in turn insists on a healthy body to keep up.

Which is precisely what keeps Tony performing at the level of somebody 25 years his junior.

As to the golf....he beat me 36 points to 30! 

But I remained purposeful to the 18th. An awesome 180 yard par 3 over a lake to an elevated green overlooked by the hotel restaurant and clubhouse.

Tony (former club captain remember) sliced his tee shot into the water. A quiet inner word with myself preceeded a soaring 3 wood onto the green and two putts for par! I enjoyed lunch in the club house...that was also on Tony.

Look at me mother...I'm a book reviewer!

"A big thanks to Bob Howard-Spink, who deserves a special mention for painstakingly reading the drafts and testing my techniques on the range. Your help, feedback and advice has been invaluable."
 Roy Palmer

What?    Yes that's right.... I am posting an author's acknowledgement.... to me!!! Yes me.

And I'm crowing about it because I really am chuffed to bits. I have always wanted to be one of those "invaluable" people that gets mentioned in the Acknowledgments. I think it goes back to childhood when I thought that to be acknowledged must have meant that you had lots of knowledge. And to be honest,  throughout life I've never been a great reader and so the Acknowledgements were the only part of a book I was certain to read.

Which is why it was all the more surprising, flattering and I guess a bit daunting to be asked by Roy to run a golfer's eye over the draft of his forthcoming book Golf Sense...and me only a 24 handicapper as well!

I must say that Roy's ideas in the book are terrific. Apologies to any non-golfers but one technique that  helped me so much deals with getting into the zone prior to backswing. I've always been aware that I think too much about starting the backswing, and so it becomes a highly conscious attempt at moving hands, arms, shoulders and pretty much everything else in a vague up and down path. No wonder I never progressed much below 24 handicap!!

But not now!  A big thank you Roy!  For the golf improvement but also for giving me a crack at book reviewing and adding another entry on my "I never thought I'd be doing this" list.

OnWeGo is all about promoting the "keep it going....do something new" spirit and looking for opportunities to fulfill that spirit, at a time of life when we could be reaching for the jigsaw puzzles or watching day time TV.  It's about doing something that you'd never seen yourself doing. It's about recognising that we've got talents that others will appreciate. And it's about the enormous satisfaction derived from beating your "personal best" in life and getting thanks and appreciation in the process. Why shouldn't the rest of your life be the best of your life!

Power of Positive Thinking

"Sod it...I'm going to quit!" said Rollling Stone's drummer Charlie Watts when faced this week with serious health consequences he decided to quit smoking after 55 years on the weed! Well done Charlie and best of luck.
Somehow I don't think he'll need luck because it sounds like he simply doesn't want to smoke anymore.
On the 13th of next month it will be 13 years since I gave up. "Is it worth it after all this time?" enquired a colleague at the time. I remember thinking then that her comments were probably a reference to my age, and to my record of unsuccessful previous attempts. Plus the fact that smokers seemed obsessed with discouraging those that want to stop. Have you noticed that?  But I also remember how at the time I felt  about stopping.   Of course... it was to do with health threats and the impact of that on my family. But it was also to do with the notion that at my age it didn't matter...and I wasn't happy to accept that idea!  The significant thing I remember however, was that previously I had quit because I felt I should. It was the right thing to do.  Now I was going to quit because I wanted to. Previously I had left the body in charge to withstand and hopefully forget the cravings and satisfaction of nicotine. This time I put the mind in control of things. The body would still want to succumb but the mind would say "no we don't do that any more!"

It's probably over 40 years since I bought my first book on the Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale. And yes I wish I'd read it and grasped the meaning back then....I'd say "if only etc. etc"  but I don't  do if only these days...(wisdom came late in life)
Maybe it's because we have to experience something before we understand it (some ancient philosopher said that I do remember) that we find it hard to learn lessons by reading from a book.
I wager that any of us can look back and with 5 minutes thought we will remember 3 or 4 experiences where we did something we had previously considered beyond us! Thus we learnt the meaning of self-limiting beliefs and the power of positive thinking.
So apologies Norman. It took me a while to see the light but there's no stopping me now. And Charlie too I'm sure  

"Stop the ageing clock at 50!"

Did you see that on the news today? Scientists at Leeds University are embarking on a Multi-million Pound research programme, the successful outcome of which would be that we stop ageing at 50!!!
How wonderful would that be??   Obviously there will be critics, sceptics and just plain argumentatives who'll challenge this. Speaking personally I'd have gained little from this as I looked 50 when I was 40....probably on account of having lived an equivalent 60 years by that time!!!!
But seriously, I think the idea is brilliant!  And thinking about it, I realise that I've had my own "stop the ageing clock programme" in place since my 50th.  I'm sure it was triggered by my "ex" running off around my 50th birthday. (note to self - avoid unnecessary joke that this was bound to have rejuvenating effect!)  But it probably began earlier than that when corporate life decided to do without me at 47 and the thoughts of "mid-life rebellion" were implanted.  But looking back I am really grateful for those life changing events that did exactly that! They changed my life. They recharged the sense of purpose and challenge to start over again.

 Nowadays I do all the recommended things. The daily workout ...sorry the photographer cut off my head. The brain workout too, with good old Sudoku and the like. Eat the right things with Omega 3 seeds on my muesli...red grape juice....salmon or mackeral four nights a week...and yes a glass or two of my favourite red as advised by a dear old cleric!  But for me the most important "anti-ageing agent" has been and continues to be change.    No, I'm not recommending that you run out on your partner! But to be continually introducing some form of change or difference: New skills. New interests. New ventures. New friendships. If we keep giving the mind something new to think about, the mind in turn will give the body something to think about.    "Come along, we're not finished yet ............ON WE GO!"

"It's that problem with the steering Lulu!"

"It's that problem with the steering Lulu!" Dad would say.  My dear departed mum and dad used to work at the same engineering works in Wembley, and each day they would to work together. Except for the occasional day when the car would play up!  It was always the same problem....the steering...and funnily enough usually on a pleasant sunny day. They would be heading off in the right direction and then suddenly without warning the steering wouldn't respond....just at the critical Wembley turning. An hour later they would be in Brighton....sitting on the seafront....enjoying the packed lunch intended for the factory canteen....just appreciating what was around them.

Mum would always protest...for a while. Mum was the conscientious one in our family. But Mum also knew what these days meant to both of them.They meant.

Do the things you enjoy in life with the people that you love.

Be able to enjoy moments that add value to your life.

Take opportunities and don't procrastinate. Be spontaneous.

Never lose your sense of fun or your spark of rebelliousness.

With these sunny autumn days that we're currently enjoying they would definitely have been taking a "Bob'n Lu Day" as I like to call it.    And who knows....maybe they are?

Strictly not too old!

The row over the sacking of Arlene Phillips (66) from BBC's Strictly Come Dancing rumbles on. After Harriet Harman previously describing the decision as "shocking" we now hear the Lib-Dems Equalities Spokeswoman telling the Party Conference it "sent a bad message" and "she would not be able to describe her feelings on the matter in parliamentary language."
Interesting as well that we get Justin Lee Collins (35) wading in with a swipe at Bruce Forsyth (81) suggesting that he should have got out 3 or 4 years ago. I wonder was that a piece of clever PR to deflect from the sexism aspects of the Phillips - Dixon row?
It seems a shame that ageism will be the likely casualty in this row. If you watch the show (which of course I don't) you would appreciate that the original panelists shared a similar perspective as critics, and so maybe a different angle will limit repetition. There certainly were clashes and personal exchanges. The trouble now is that if Len (65) falls out with Craig (44) as he did last Saturday (I'm told) we will dismiss this as cantankerousness by the old fella!
Of course it's viewing ratings that will ultimately settle this debate and the head to head with X Factor last Saturday wasn't a good result with Strictly losing out by 2 million viewers.
But the BBC have the answer. They've "gagged" the Strictly judges and issued suitable responses they can give to questions on the affair. Their record with costume drama is renowned and adding censorship to ageism within the plot is bound to increase viewing levels.

Beige is the new black!

We've just got home after a wonderful week's holiday on the North Devon Coast and what a result it was! With weather expectations fixed firmly low by the miserable rain of July and August we were delighted to find wonderful blue skies and warm sunshine. And on top of that the schools had gone back...sorry kids, no offence intended.

North Devon is a great part of the world. You've got the peaceful isolation of villages like Berrynarbour, the one we stayed in. The stunning beauty of the cliff top walks that link up rocky bays and coves. The "time stood still" experience of towns like Lynmouth...and the incredible Clovelly, a must see with it's narrow cobbled high Street that steps down from cliff top to harbour. And the hugely popular surfing locations like Woolacombe and Croyde. Of course we gravitated to the latter. I'd always fancied a go at surfing. It may be difficult now though. The legs are bereft of reflexes ever since the disc op. The permanent catarrh and ear problems make balance a bit difficult. And despite my best efforts, a bit of white fluff on the neck was as near as I got to the bouncy long haired look of the young board dudes. Mind you I maybe could have fitted in with the "senior surfers." These were the guys who'd long since lost the bouncy long hair and seemed to wear a larger sizer of black wet suit. I didn't actually see any of them surfing but they walked about the beach a lot with boards under arms and expressions of serious intent on faces. Yes I could have managed that but I'm not so sure I could have kept up with the beige army. Bless 'em, they were all out there with their walking boots, hiking poles and beige windcheaters of course. Scampering up and down cliff walks. Snapping pictures from precarious vantage points. On the 175 step ascent from Clovelly Harbour we were actually overtaken by couples who easily gave me 15 years and should have given me a 50 step start. Of course I had to show that I was still fit and energetic and unwisely chose to try and catch and pass them. It was the next day when I paid for that rashness. Oh the pain!! I'm still not sure whether I've kicked off the old disc problem. Or maybe it's a hip joint....oh dear...that's another of life's milestones!!! Anyway, the cool dude surfer look definitely went by the board as the holiday was played out with a walking stick. To be fair it wasn't a walking stick...more of a hiking staff, which I thought gave me a rather impressive biblical look. Not sure the cheap stetson from a gift shop complimented this though! But at least I was my own man....no wet suit or beige for me...just yet

"I'm treated far better than I deserve thanks!"

A couple of nights ago I bumped into my long-time friend Alan in Sainsbury's. He stood by the chiller cabinet....closely scrutinizing his shopping list in one hand and an 8 pack of sausages in the other. "Isn't it scandalous" I observed..."how prices are going up all the time." For a second or two we nearly went into one about grocery inflation, and then instinctively realised we were heading towards a grumpy old men conversation and pulled back just in time. Alan and I go back many years when we both joined Golden Wonder as young ambitious Divisional Sales Managers and we like to think we haven't changed much in the subsequent 30 years. And I always smile inwardly with nostalgia at Alan's retro 70's hair style....although it's snow white now. Of course we have changed. Both divorced. Twice in Alan's case. Bit heavier. A bit wiser....and that's not because we started from a low base as Golden Wonder Sales Managers!
Both fairly healthy....considering!!! We were certainly encouraged to live a certain life style in those GW days. Our boss Keith had a terrific attitude to motivation which was to start by treating yourself well. Of course we followed his teachings faithfully. Good restaurants. Posh hotels. Well stocked drinks cabinet for home entertaining. All claimed on the expenses budget of course. What we may not have realised at the time though was that this apparent self-indulgence did motivate us to do our best. What Keith was doing of course was creating the trappings of success and because we behaved as if we were successful we made sure that we were successful. We felt like winners and we were obliged to be winners.
30 years on we still recognise that attitude in ourselves. The expense funded meals have gone although we both still have the Cross pens. But more to the point we learnt and still practice that philosophy feel that life is treating you well and you will want to repay it by doing your best with life. We shared stories of our current successes, particularly Alan's offer of a Sales Management role. "At 62!!" And agreed that today's breed wouldn't hold a light to us ex-GW managers. And then we were off, stopping at the chiller to get some of that delicious Italian Red Grape juice that Sainbsbury's sell. "This stuff has that anti-ageing ingredient" says I. "Righto" says Alan, "Give us one here!"

Going nowhere? Not us!!!

I read in a recent sunday paper about the appointment of Rachel Johnson as Editor of The Lady magazine. She explained her quest to realign the magazine with its target readership and was quoted saying "These days many older people still see themselves as youthful. We need to be reflecting that back at them." Another memorable quote which I thought really captured her view is "more hip...less hip replacement!" Brilliant! Totally aligned with the mission of "OnWeGo!"

Prompted by my 65th's cream cakes in the office day, I got into conversation with a colleague about plans to carry on working. I took the opportunity to explain the aims of "OnWeGo!" talking about "us wrinklies" and the huge contribution we can continue to make in work and life. My pal's attitude was a bit of a surprise. "But you have to make way for the young coming in!" he reasoned; adding "How else will they get their opportunity?"
His remarks did make me think back to my days in Local Goverment, when in my mid-twenties I decided that the progression culture of "experience and seniority" wasn't for me. I left a good job, happy to start on the bottom rung of a career in sales. I felt then that it was totally wrong to use age as a criterion for opportunity...for me it was ability and application that mattered. And guess what? 40 years later I feel the same way!!!

So returning to Rachel Johnson's quote. My take on this is that we should believe and act as if life's opportunities are as equally available and rewarding as ever, and that our capabilities to secure them are as effective and powerful as ever! Believing that if we don't behave in this purposeful way then we send a message to the mind and in turn the body that says "We're going nowhere.....you can step it down a bit now!" Because guess what? That message gets heard...neuro-transmitters switch off...memory systems shut down...faculties stop working!

So don't worry about dwindling pension funds..
Stop fretting about delayed retirement dates....
Bring on those opportunities.....
.....it's "Power to the people!!!".....(of any age.)

"Rock on Tommy!"

Did you see Tom Watson's brilliant effort in the recent Open Golf Championship. He so nearly won...and he's 59! Did you know that? He's 59!! Yes...every commentator and pundit must have told us at least twice, so that must have been 200 times, given the size of the BBC Team.
"SHUUUUUT UP!!!" I eventually shouted at the screen....as those of Tom's and my age do. Why do people have this obsession with "seniority?" But at least it distracted the team from their usual mantra that The Open is the best golf championship there is.....is that because it's the oldest????
And another thing!!! Why does the BBC need 100 commentators when they only have 2 or 3 cameras covering about 6 or 8 players..."best in the world??? Mmmmm....Check out the US Masters to see coverage of all players around the course.
Anyway it did all manage to rekindle my passion in the game at a time when I was reappraising my swing. I'd been asked to read the drafts of a new book on golf technique written by Roy Palmer. It's great stuff! Tips and advice on how to get into the zone...relax the muscles, all designed to replicate a good swing. We'd taken the theory to the driving range for some practical application and I was hitting off the mat sweet as you like. Which was very handy because next morning I was playing 9 holes with son-in-law Simon. This was my first game in a long time. Simon plays very well without effort or stress. We were playing at Priors Park Corby...home to my worst golfing moments. But I still looked forward to it!
It all came back to me as I stood on that first tee with queing players watching from behind the chainlink fence. Many's the time that fence saved the lives of onlookers as my tee shot viciously hooked left. I surveyed the fairway with out of bounds to the left and right...and I'm sure the fairway is only half its original width.
Then I remembered Roy's methods. Relax the jaw. Get into the moment. Let the swing do what it knows it can do without my intervention. And it was off...a soaring left to right fade slightly edging Simon's drive. An elegant 8 iron then got me to the edge of the green. Chipping on, I then putted in two to card my first ever 5 for the first hole. The same happened at the next hole. Always a dodgy one for me. But again I was in the zone....outdrove Simon and carded another 5.
This was brilliant. I'd have been happy to go home now. Especially when I spotted the lone golfer playing behind us and hurrying along. You can tell when somebody wants to join in your game!!!
"Would you like to play on through?" "Naahh! That'll just hold you up...I'll just join you lads.............if you don't mind that is?" I just couldn't get into the zone after that.
Jimmy played in the Seniors...3 days a week...knew the course well....and was good company. Us seniors have got to stick together. Besides, I'd had my moment of success. It didn't last as long as Tom Watson's but for 15 minutes I had my hand on the Claret Jug. Rock on Tommy (and Jimmy)

where's my bus pass???

That's it! It's official! I'm an O.A.P!!!! Yesterday was the 65th birthday.

But like any previous birthday of mine it's still enjoyed in that traditional childlike manner. I was awake early, causing some annoyance and confusion to Lynda. Then a few choruses of Happy Birthday to me jogged her memory and a sleepy "Happy birthday Hon!" wafted out from under the duvet.
After a birthday cup of tea in bed, which Lynda thought was a nice gesture on my part, cards were ripped open over breakfast. Funny isn't it how you still want to shake them in case a postal order for 10 shillings drops out. Greetings were a mix of love, respect, nostalgia, and inevitable comic ageism, and a special mention must go to my great friend Miriam who thought it was my 60th!! That's what friends are for.
The family were dropping in at 2.00 for "birthday cake and glass of wine" (the proper birthday bash is an alfresco dinner next Saturday.. probably under the awning!) and Lynda joined me in "big kid mood" pinning up balloons and banners.
When the heavens opened at 1.55, I thought to myself "show some concern....go and pick up some of the girls and boys." I knew nothing about prior arrangements for lifts and couldn't understand the confused look I got from son-in-law Simon as our cars passed. Of course, once we all converged at my place they all quickly blamed "the silly old fart" for confusing everybody.
That episode apart, the silverback was shown much respect from all, apart from Simon...but he can't really help himself. I did smile though when he absent-mindedly kicked over a glass of wine and went very quiet. And I got a brilliant present. Memory slippers...and they really work. With my memory slippers on I can now go into another room and remember why I went in there. They're amazing! I'd never previously understood why you see old boys out shopping in their slippers. Now I do. They're wearing their memory slippers so they can remember how to get home.
It was a great afternoon of doughnuts, Lambrini and dolly mixtures shared with the nearest and dearest. And for a while I forgot it was my birthday and found myself quietly watching the kids. "R" and "M" the little un's, engrossed in their magical world of play where they write the lines for us to act. "E" and "C" who always seemed to fall out but are now best mates in their privately shared world of Super Nintendo. Grandson "J," 13 years old but still eager to compress his near 6 ft frame and play cars with the little 'uns. Grand-daughter "J," now a proud mum herself, grown up and wise. Then a gusty chorus of "Happy Birthday to you" reminded me that I was meant to be centre stage!

Later that evening, I worked out why I continue to get this childlike excitement, and why I was pre-occupied watching the kids. It's because for me, birthdays aren't simply about reaching milestones or completing stages in your life. They're about starting new stages.

Do you remember how as kids we used to look forward to the day "when I'll be big enough to do that?" We saw birthdays as enabling events. My philosophy is that every birthday should be approached with that same sense of anticipation and new opportunity.

....Now where did I leave my memory slippers????

Bobby Moore's legs

It was something my ex-wife said when we were courting? "Oh I love Bobby Moore's legs!" And as a typical self-conscious and insecure teenager, when your girl friend says how much she admires some aspect of another man's physique it can be distressing. Especially with legs like mine! They have always been what you might call slender around the ankles. A condition not helped by years of chronic sciatica and resultant "severe muscle loss." This dramatized explanation, with added mention of "disc removal," plus my stoical attitude always creates the desired discomfort in anyone insensitive enough to look and comment.
And they do comment! None more so than my two daughters and a grand-daughter (you know who you are!) I take it all in good heart though, and with some understanding on account of them favouring their mother in the ankle department. I'd always believed her story that she'd been a ballet dancer until I realised she'd inherited her ankles from her father.
And then there was the girl friend from Southend-on-sea who graciously allowed me a trial at Thorpe Bay Tennis Club. What a bunch of posers! You couldn't get near the bar for bulging bronzed thighs jostling for prominence on the stools. And how encouraging she was! "Couldn't you wear two pairs of socks?" was her so sensitive suggestion.

So it's meant that I'm never one of those that feel compelled to wear their shorts come the first spring sunshine. You've seen them....in their Adidas singlets and Bermudas while the rest of us are still in fleeces. No it takes me up until the longest day, which was about the time of the Outlook bike ride around Pitsford Reservoir.
A beautiful evening during that Wimbledon Fortnight heatwave....the shorts were definitely coming out. And besides the good old boys of Outlook aren't of the stuff to comment on a mate's legs. Except of course for Bill the acccountant. (There's silverback supremacy at play here....more at a cerebral level than testosterone one perhaps!) "First time out with the legs Bob?" he ironically enquired. A quick glance confirmed that his lightly reddened pins had of course seen some sun. "Yes I think opalescent would describe mine" I replied. Adding with a hint of condesenscion "but in time you learn to ignore what others think don't you Bill." We enjoyed a marvellous ride around Pitsford Reservoir. With our shorts, bikes and backpacks we had a pleasing nostalgic look feintly reminiscent of Enid Blyton's "Famous Five." The legs revelled in their first summer outing, and I was reminded of a personal belief that has developed over the years if you can't change what fate gave you...get on with it and be happy. As we completed the circuit of Pitsford Reservoir (making sure I got in ahead of Bill) I noticed that opalescent legs had turned a pleasing hint of parchment. And I was happy to accept I just wasn't destined to have legs like Bobby Moore...bless him!

"...but Bobby still lacks confidence in himself"

.....So wrote JC Howell in my year end report at Old Oak Junior Mixed School in July 1955! 3rd in the final year and with grammar school entrance beckoning thanks to 11 plus success, this as history would show was my peak of academic achievement.... but yes, I lacked confidence!

And events through the subsequent teen years seem to confirm this lack of confidence. Always prefering to pay for cinema tickets rather than join my mates bunking in through the exit door. Attempting to "negotiate peace" when discovering the stranger I'd called "Fatty" was in fact Reg Chaplin one of the hardest kids in town. Wanting to talk about the views from her window when invited into the house of the most fanciable girl in Hammersmith.

Then in later life I learnt as we do that we are our own worst enemy when it comes to facing challenges or fulfilling potential. Came to understand how self-limiting beliefs undermine our confidence. Experienced how difficult things become achievable when you simply adopt a positive attitude.

Then it's "hey...look at me mother!" And I'm out there! Public speaking. Running training sessions. Working the room at business network events. And if honest, slightly enjoying the moment when someone says "oh I couldn't do what you do!"

But like so many afflictions, and self-confidence is one, it doesn't go away. It gets pushed to the back of the mind but can be triggered off by something. Like an invitation to a party.

It was my great friend Miriam's 50th! Of course we would go. But as the day approaches I get those worries about meeting strangers. Think about those awkward social moments.
And adding to the pressure of social acceptance..
we've got to follow a "seaside madness" fancy dress theme.

So I get all worried. Start telling myself that I won't enjoy myself. Have thoughts that are totally self-inflicted concerns. As well as being completely daft!
The evening was brilliant. My "Englishman wearing a bandana in knotted hankie style" outfit was a hit. Contingency plans to leave at "about 10!" went totally by the board, as we enjoyed the company of some lovely people - and met a few interesting ones too!!

So looking back at JC's comments in that school report I do wonder how they may have influenced me in those teen and early adult years? I should have skipped over them to JP Widrig's, after all as Headmaster he had to be wiser. He simply observed "On your own two feet from now onwards!"

I can't walk on water!!

Walked into town today and had to wait up for sometime at Sainsbury's while a heavy rainstorm passed over.

Standing under the outside canopy, I chatted as you do, with shoppers contemplating a trolley dash to their parked cars. I made friends with a waiting dog who found my foot a comforting source of warmth for his shivering wet backside. I was entertained by the Sainsbury trolley "herdsman" who was positively wallowing in the rain and rather like a conjuror producing flowers would surprise shoppers with his folding umbrella.
I endured the secondhand cigarette fumes from the odd puffer, who to be fair would have found it difficult to smoke in the rain! And I listened to the mindnumbing repetitive jingle of the Fireman Sam kiddie's ride.
I think it was the second of these annoyances that made me think that getting rainsoaked wasn't so bad!
And besides, I had seen numerous young people walking past who were happily wet through. They do it all the time don't they. You see them going to school in the pouring rain, seemingly oblivious to the soaking they're getting. I'd always thought it was a mind set thing. A bit of anarchy mixed with the self-belief of walking on hot coals.....or water.
That's for me I thought! Anarchic self-belief!

I was off. Initially at a bit of a jog, until the achilles played up. Then at a brisk walk, albeit a bit erratic because the achilles were quite painful now. 100 yards or so later and after a few strange looks from beneath the umbrellas of passing teenagers, I stopped briefly in a bus shelter. I had to stop. I couldn't see as rain ran into my eyes.

No turning back though and no point waiting either. Over the road, avoiding eye contact with passing strangers in their so sensible rainwear, I strut out ignoring the pain in my achilles.
Fortunately there are no more onlookers to worry about. Who'd be out on a day like this?

Then a car hoots and clearing my eyes of water I can see it's my daughters. Great! They're waving. I wave back. They don't wave again! No... looks like your on your own here matey!! Into the park. And there it was. The ultimate test of immaturity. A huge great puddle! Now I'm beyond caring. Straight through the middle. No looking for the shallow bits, this was foot slapping Gene Kelly at his best.
50 yards from home, a passer-by, with unknowing irony, offers to share his golf umbrella and does look somewhat relieved when I decline with thanks.
Then a final sprint up the street...just in case any neighbours see me, and in through the front door. So I'm breathless, aching and of course very wet...but I'm home.
Now I have to say I shall take my umbrella with me the next time I hoof it into town , but walking in the rain apart.. I won't let a bit of temporary discomfort or curious glances from onlookers ever stop me doing anything!

Out of the mouths of children

During the recent hot spell I bought my two daughters straw hats as sun protection while working on their allotment. I think it was the sight of their sun burnt mother (the "ex") recently home from holiday, that motivated the purchase. I'll resist getting sidetracked here on their mother's apetite for holidays and suntanning....the thing I wanted to mention is the allotment!

Isn't that where I should be heading as an imminent retiree? Are they subconsciously setting me an example of how to behave. Is this an instance of the child becoming the parent? I suspect so judging by their disapproval of my recent antics when chasing after "abusive" motorists!

That's the wonderful thing about Grandchildren. They never disapprove. I took four of them to Warwick Castle during the half-term holiday. We missed the A46 junction on the M6...too busy talking. Hardly a word of dissent during the extra half an hour we added to the journey. The 20 minute walk from the car park wasn't a problem - except for the ones who always tell it as it is! And what acclaim when I waved my pre-booking voucher to one of the Greeters and we managed to "VIP our way in" ahead of the long queues. The day was a great success! My inaugural packed lunch was enthusiastically put away. Responsibility for choosing and navigating us to the programme of attractions was skilfully delegated and readily accepted, and I felt that I anticipated their expectations very well. OK... Maybe they were "very understanding" when the early vantage point I grabbed to watch the jousting was obscured by pushy latecomers! Perhaps they were also "very grown up" about settling for the £4 replica sword instead of the authentic looking £10 full-sized version! And maybe the fun was mine alone as we played "find the lost car" as we returned to the wooded car park!

Heading home, I decided against the slower scenic route via Leamington, electing to turn left and head for the A46 and the M42..... and the first traffic jam!!! This was the customary M42 rush hour fantasy incident and not surprisingly there was some bewilderment as 30 minutes later we passed by the alleged incident?

Picking up speed to 20 mph we were soon on the M6....and quickly into the second traffic jam. We didn't move for over half ann hour and I began to sense growing indifference to my attempts to entertain. Then the day's accumulation of cold drinks had the inevitable effect! Boredom turned to painful anguish. My absent minded observation that we would have been home an hour ago if we'd gone via Leamington didn't help. Then relief all round as the traffic moves and we hurry into Corley Services for further relief all round.

Despite not having moved much in the previous two hours the good old Lexus 300 didn't stop using fuel at a bankrupting rate, so a vital fill up was necessary before we left Corley. What is it about motorway services that gets you so disorientated? Whatever it is, it led me the wrong side of the car pump area. I weighed up the idea of reversing back between exiting juggernauts. Cool? No!! Stupid? Yes!! We went with the traffic, back out onto the M6, and with a near empty tank. Hiding my anxiety well, it was a totally unexpected exit that we made at Coventry in search of a petrol station. The hint of surprise in the chorus of "where are we going now?" suggested that my reservoir of trust and goodwill was also verging on empty. But a refuelled Lexus and a large bag of chocolate eclairs from the forecourt shop soon restored my infallibale grandfather status. Back to a thankfully free-flowing M6 and with no further incidents we were off home to download stories to their mothers of a "brilliant day out with grandad!"

Afterwards, when thinking back on this graciousness that kids generously bestow on their grandparents it made me ask myself - why is it that we have to lose that forebearance towards others? Do we have to mature into sceptical and critical adults who feel the need to offer opinions whether they're useful or not? Should we not try harder to retain the graciousness of children?

Listen learn and look the part!

Great news! We've got the date for our first game of cricket.
Huh?? Cricket??? Not exactly the stuff of rebels for this anarchic OnWeGo blog?

But consider this….
Ever since childhood I’ve had a problem co-ordinating with a moving ball. Heading a football – I’d miss it! Driving to the boundary in cricket – I’d miss it! Returning serve on the forehand – I’d miss it!
I just accepted that if it was moving - I’d miss it. Mind you it never stopped me playing any of these games, and I was so very proud to be picked as goalkeeper for my infant school. This may have had something to do with me being tall. Not that I could reach the crossbar or cut out crosses; as if!!! But I was nearest to fully occupying the goalie’s pullover, kindly supplied by JC Howell our class teacher.
I still vividly remember that claret woollen pullover. I remember how I felt as I put on what seemed like the ceremonial robes of a gladiator destined to die. I can even remember how it smelt, on account of having to breathe through the huge roll-neck collar that smothered my face. Always a handy excuse for missing the shots that whistled past me. We lost every game. Defeats were always heavy.
The aversion continued into later life. 5 years back, a 6-0 drubbing at tennis by a girl friend recovering from foot surgery reaffirmed this lack of sporting self-esteem
So when invited 2 years ago to make up the numbers for the office cricket team, my acceptance was entirely altruistic. The invitation to play again the following year was not earned by previous success, but necessitated by dwindling numbers.

Except that this time I thought... I can do this! I remembered the advice of an old boss from way back, who said “know when you can’t ...and listen and learn from somebody who can!” In this case it was our cricket guru and Company Accountant Bill. “Watch the ball and step towards it” was his advice; advice which I trusted without question.
I don’t normally trust accountants but when on a Company "do" you’ve shared a room and seen a chap in his “Y” fronts, a trust is established.

So there I am, 3rd in. My new white cricket pullover makes a statement of bold intent. Maybe my subconscious was at work, deleting memories of that claret roll-neck I couldn't fill? Watch the ball and step forward: 1st ball…. block. 2nd ball….2 runs. 3rd ball...a glorious 6 over the boundary!! Then another awesome 6!!! 10 balls later I am compulsorily retired on 25 and stride back to a rapturous pavilion.

So bring on this season’s matches! I can play this game now!
It's just a case of listening to somebody who knows how, and maybe wearing the right pullover.

chasing motor bikes again!!

Have you ever watched a dog chasing a motor bike? He seems to be thinking "Right...taunt me will you? I'll have you!! ....just as soon as I can catch you?" And it's that ...will he....and does he really want to question that tends to makes the chase look rather funny.
Just as I must have looked. Happily walking across a side road junction, I get an impatient beeeeep from the car turning in behind me. It happens! But it was the gesture from the dude behind the wheel that sent me into one! "Right...I'll have you!!" and without a second thought I'm chasing after him, bounding up the road like your favourite martial arts movie hero.
"Ah...you're trying to escape" I think, as he screeches into a side road and I follow.
Then of course the brain begins to point certain things out to me. Man on foot cannot catch Mini Cooper. Man on foot chasing Mini Cooper looks pretty stupid. The looks of disbelief of the thoroughly engrossed onlookers confirms this.

Then yesterday I did it all over again! The first outing in 3 years on the mountain bike saw me understandably slowing a bit on the homeward run. No such understanding though from the wannabee Jeremy Clarkson in his open-topped MG Midget, who after passing, offers me that familiar single-upturned-finger wave! Never one for clever instant repartee, I can only wave back in mock friendly fashion, before thinking "No baldy!! (still waiting for some clever repartee) ...you ain't telling me where to get off!" And I chase him! Yes I chase him on my mountain bike (un-used in 3 years) and him in his MG Midget. I didn't catch him!
Yet as I turn up the hill towards home, despite the rasping lungs... and the ironic encouragement from a concerned neighbour...and the burning legs that refused to lift me from the saddle.... I feel soooo pleased with myself. For a minute I had been Segal, Van Damme & Chan all in one! I'd shown him!
Later on, in a reflective moment, I did wonder how often in life we may duck a challenge because we think it's too tough or because we believe the competition is too strong? Because when we do, we miss out on the enormous fun and great satisfaction there is in believing that we can... and having a real go!
We don't always have to "catch the motor bike."

what if?

The quest to learn how to predict lottery numbers continues....and with some early encouragement! Week one of the new “system” sees me £49.60 the richer thanks to the Euro lottery. Week two, and again huge excitement when that tantalising e mail from lottery HQ arrives indicating “Great news!” I prolong the anticipation until Sunday before discovering that the great news is... £4.60!!

But that's £4.60 more than I make from a possible dormant pension enquiry sent to an early years employer, LB of Harrow. Back in 1971 as well as saying goodbye to shillings and pence, I bade farewell to a hugely promising career in local government, and with all the euphoria of my final days I just couldn’t recall what we had done with my accrued pension contributions.
Not a lot! I was given a full cash refund of £563 when I left.
You have to hand it to local government administrators. Their archiving and filing skills are without equal. I was sent photocopied immaculately handwritten records. (We all used fountain pens in those days.) Complete with long-hand calculations showing how they converted pre-decimal contributions into new currency….after two attempts!! And rubber stamped (we all used those too!) REFUNDED IN FULL.
Now I have to admit I did briefly think “What if I hadn't left local government?” “I’d have retired 4 years ago on a final-salary-inflation-proofed pension!”
But I did leave! And over time I've learnt that asking myself “what if,” when reflecting back on past decisions I made, or looking forward on future events that I can’t influence (like winning the lottery,) is at best an entertaining but otherwise unproductive preoccupation.
Add in those other "what if''s" You know, the self-limiting ones that we ask when facing something new or different: "What if I can't do it?" "What if I look daft trying?" ...and you begin to realise what a thought-wasting phrase it is!!
So. What if we stopped asking what if? Maybe we'd just might get on and do a lot more!

what memory problem?

Do you ever feel really pleased with yourself? Almost smug (but not quite)...because you've learnt to do something you thought was beyond you?

Well this week I learnt how to upgrade the memory on my computer. I was a ponderous 512MB RAM, and now I'm a very slick 2 Gig! And I did it all myself, with a little bit of instruction from a mate.
And it's great that my PC processes much quicker now, but what is really pleasing is that I can do something this week that I thought I couldn't do last week!

Right! Now then!! How do I learn to predict the lottery numbers???

New Tricks, and all that...

When you're only months away from that free bus pass, maybe you should start to think about hobbies and relaxation. And with seven grandchildren looking up to me, perhaps I should behave in a sensible grown up way.
But then "sensible" has never been the way of it. Who else would have provided the gossip for them to write in their school diaries? How else would they have learned to play cards for money!
Seriously though. I think there's a mistake we can easily make as we "mature" in life. We learn lots. We gain experience. We actually do acquire wisdom. Then we waste it all by becoming sensible. Conventional and expected behaviour starts off the decline, and then before long self-limiting beliefs finish us off. Hello Gardening and golf!
Thanks to the grandchildren and stilts I saw those dreaded self-limiting beliefs and stepped over them. "Do you want a go on the stilts Grandad?" "No, I can't" I lamely replied, thinking in a mix of "probably couldn't and shouldn't anyway." Then inspired (or shamed) by the company of can do kids I said "Hang on give, them here." Three stumbling attempts and then "look at me I can stiltwalk!"

So let's stop worrying about gloomy pension forecasts. Look at the other investment we've been carefully accumulating all these years. What we know and what we can do!
Get out there and maximise the return on that investment! Step over those self-limiting beliefs. Do something new and unexpected. Launch a new business. Make a difference for others. Learn some new tricks!