Why aren't the English proud to be English?

Time for a rant!

I’ve been told this morning that I’m a miserable old git because I don’t like Haloween. This is true. However, I have my reasons.

I’m not trying to disparage any country or people, but here’s why I’m like I am.

Haloween is American! And that’s where it should stay. I am sick and tired of English people celebrating other people’s events. OK, we celebrate Bonfire Night. I’m still not sure what we’re celebrating. Is it because our government of the day was saved (can’t believe for one minute the average person celebrating that).

Or are we celebrating some loser? A gallant trier. More than likely it’s so that we can buy some fireworks! Nice marketing shops!

I’m proud that we as a nation support Armistice Day, It is only right that we should.

But my biggest gripe as a proud Englishman is that we don’t celebrate our day, St George’s Day the 23rd of April. It’s not even a National Holiday here. It’s like we’re not proud to be English. Welsh people celebrate St David’s Day, The Scots celebrate St Andrew’s Day, and boy, do the Irish celebrate St Patrick’s Day. But not the English!

Bastille Day. July 14th, the French celebrate. America celebrates Independence Day on the 4th July. And good for any country that does.

But in England, we celebrate anything but our day. Haloween is so that shops can make more money. That’s why they make a fuss of it. Just like Christmas, The World Cup and Wimbledon. It’s all about bringing money into shops!

I was watching ‘Homeland’ last night, and I love that Americans hang their national flag from the front of their house. In England, we only show a flag during a sporting tournament and as soon as it’s over, we hide them away in case we upset anyone.

I know I’ve gone away from the reason I’m ranting, but it’s the reason why I couldn’t care less about Haloween. Prom Nights – they’re American too!

If you’re American, don’t think I’m against you, because I’m not. I love Americans. I love their up and at ‘em philosophy. I love the attitude of Americans, but I want my country to be proud of itself and celebrate our National Day.

When it starts to be as proud of my country as I am, when shops start doing things to promote our day, then I’ll get in the spirit of things.

Till then, I’m happy to be a miserable old git!

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Why I keep being drawn back to Facebook

 I just read a sentence in a book that was so true and made me realise why I like Facebook.

"Many friends travel with us only to the crossroads and then, whether the farewell be conscious or unconscious, we turn in different directions."

And it brought to mind so many people that I'd lost touch with for 20-30 years as we each went our own ways in life, only to cross paths again on here.

One of my favourite things on there is being able to follow the lives of my old friends and their families. To see how their lives move on, to read of their accomplishments, and sadly, sometimes their sorrows.

To be able to laugh with them at times and to be able to commiserate at others.

I know from personal experience of tough times, how the support that was shared on here from old and new friends has helped me dig deep on my reserves of strength to get through those times. I've been grateful for that so often,

It is to me, the best thing about Facebook. And why I'm still there.

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It's not about your looks...

 

I was reading something earlier where this pretty late-teenage girl was asking whether people thought she was ugly. As she thought she was.

When will people learn that ugly isn't really about looks? Looks are superficial.

I've known some gorgeous looking girls whose whole demeanour made me want to stay as far away from them as possible.

And I've known some good looking men who look in the mirror and think they're wonderful and then treat people as though they're nothing compared to them.

Ugliness to me comes from the inside. It's the way you treat people. It's the way you think. It's what comes out of your mouth. It's the comments you make on social media.

But here's the thing, it works exactly the same in the other direction. You don't need to see what someone's looks are like to know if they are good people. You see it in their actions and their interactions.

I've said this before; when I see you, I don't see how good looking you are. I don't see what colour you are. Or your religion either.

What I see is whether you're a nice person or not. I notice whether you speak well of others, whether you're respectful of others. Whether you take advantage of people. I watch your actions.

I've noticed that my gut decides what kind of person you are very quickly. And it's usually right.

I see tons of hatred and wonder why you'd want to carry that around with you. I don't even hate the person who wronged me the most in my life. As far as I'm concerned, he's dead to me. I see him once in a while at some event, but I just spend time with people who I like and carry on as I would if he weren't there.

When I thought I was going to die almost 4 years ago, it brought to my mind that hatred isn't important. What's important aren't the things that you have, It's the people you care about.

And it's most certainly not about how good looking you are or not.

So to that girl who's worried about whether she's ugly or not, I say don't worry about it. Pay more attention to whether you have a good soul. To whether you are kind to people. To whether you're willing to help people who need it. And whether you care.

Because at the end of the day, who you are as a person will tell most of us whether you're ugly or not, not whether you have unblemished skin and the face of an angel.

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The Music of My Life #4

It's the backend of 1986 and our first baby is due at the beginning of December.

My Mother-In-Law gives us the money to buy a Silver Cross pram for the baby.

We're driving to the Pram shop at Ealing and in my car, It's pouring with rain, it's miserable as sin, but we're so excited.

I'm playing a cassette with Five Star's 'Silk & Steel' on one side and Tina Turner's 'Break Every Rule' on the other side.

I'm driving a Volkswagen Scirocco at the time, and when we pick the pram we want, it's too big to fit into the car in its packaging.

We had to take it out of the packaging and needed to work out how to get the pram into the car.

My car was a 2 door hatchback. We folded the seat forward and managed to squeeze the body of the pram into the back seat.

The chassis folded and fit into the boot with the wheels packed alongside it.

It was then I realised that in the long run, I would need to get rid of my lovely car which I'd only bought in the summer and replace it at some stage with a bigger family car!

We did get another year or so before it became too unpractical.

Whenever I hear either of the two songs in the links below, they take me back to that very day,

Click here if video doesn't play

Click here if the video doesn't play

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The trouble with oldies radio...

I come before you this day to warn you about the divisive and insidious nature of Oldies Radio and the effect it can have on you.

For I fear that the prolonged listening to songs of that ilk has turned me into a 40-year-old woman from the late 1960s!

How do I know this?

This morning, as I do most days, I was listening to an oldies station playing on my bedside radio. And I usually wait until they play a record that I don't particularly like to rouse me into getting up.

But this morning, I realised that I am becoming immune to the tunes that would get me moving.

The first sign of it this morning was when I told Debz I would be getting up soon. And as I waited for a song that would get me up, I found myself unexpectedly excited when a particular song that would normally have spurred me into decisive action, didn't. And I caught myself saying, "Ooh! It's Engelbert. I like this one!"

It was at that moment  I knew I was in trouble. For I, like so many others have berated the aforesaid singer over the years for his schmaltzy songs especially as I could remember my Mum's swooning over his syrupy lyrics back in the days when I was just a young boy.

And today, I realised that prolonged listening to oldies of all kinds can result in you liking songs you used to berate.

And so I stand before you to warn you of such evil. I have to be very careful because now my big worry is that I'm going to start enjoying the work of Michael Buble!

I think in order to combat this threat, I'm going to have to put myself through an intense, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Ray Charles, Jackie Wilson and Eddie Cochran day to remind me that I am not, in fact, my mother from 1969, but a man, a real man!

Let this be a warning to you. If you listen to oldies for too long, it's entirely possible that you may acquire the taste for an honest to goodness, from the heart lyric!

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They call it 'Popcorn'

 In the UK we have a sub-culture of music known as 'Northern Soul' that has taken the country by storm over the years, after taking hold in the North of England in the late 60s and early 70s.

However, in Belgium, they have their own subculture of music known as 'Popcorn'.

Like with 'Northern Soul, they play mostly, obscure American and British records, mainly 'Rhythm and Blues' songs with some 60s pop mixed in, but unlike a lot of Northern Soul, this genre is paced at a slower tempo.

Personally, I enjoy the genre more than I do 'Northern Soul' because of the pace of the songs they use.

I didn't know anything about 'Popcorn' until around 11 years ago when someone brought it to my attention. At first, I thought they were telling me about the old hit of the same name by Hot Butter, but they put me right on that front.

Over the years, I've come to know more of the songs that fit this genre and have added a lot to my collection.

However, it was only last year that I found this short film on the History of how this genre came to be and I think it's well worth watching.

And if that whets your appetite to check out more of the music, there's plenty of playlists on youtube - here's one to get you started.

Let me know what you think of it.

Enjoy!

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A nostalgic 'Look at Life' in the 1960s

 

Back in the 1960s, when you went to the pictures you'd usually get two films for your money. The main picture would be supported with a shorter accompanying film.

And there was a series of films, that although I never really took much notice of them then, have become well-loved by me.

They were the 'Look at Life' films which detailed life in the 60s. When you see them now, they're a great social history document, and luckily, many of them have been uploaded to youtube.

Here's a link to a playlist of the films.

And here's an example programme from the collection.

If you can't see the video, click here

We've watched all of these films and often said to ourselves, "Do you remember that?" 

We love these programmes. We hope you do too.

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BBC Nationwide segment on Amusement arcade machines

 

I had this link sent to me with an excerpt from BBC TVs 'Nationwide' programme from 1980.

It talked about video games and then went on to show some old fashioned arcade machines from before.

What was intriguing to me was that they featured three machines that my Dad had in our arcade back in the 1960s.

Click this link to watch the video from the BBCs Facebook page.

It certainly brought back some memories for me

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Music Of My Life #3

 

Do you remember when we used to get Elvis films on the telly at Christmas?

I used to look forward to them for days. I'd be sat in front of our old black and white telly with some sweets and a glass of cherryade,

For me this was the best film. I remember going into Jotchams record shop in Burnham and seeing this in the rack for £1.99. It took me a couple of weeks to save up for it.

I cleaned windows around the house. Tidied rooms and cut grass in the garden to get the money for it.

I remember going to the shop hoping the LP would still be there. Luckily for me it was. I've played this hundreds of times and I've got the DVD of the film and I sing along to it like a good 'un every time!

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New technology 1960s style!

A record this morning, took me back to when I was just a young boy and the cassette recorder first came to my attention.

Someone, I can't remember who, came into our arcade at Burnham and was talking to my Dad and he was showing him this new little tape recorder he'd bought.

I was closely looking on in amazement at it.

Apparently, you didn't need a reel to reel tape recorder anymore, as you could now buy these little 'cassettes' with tape already in them.

And you could buy proper albums with music already on them, or you could buy blank 'tapes' and record them yourself.

The man showed my Dad and me the tape. Now, this was odd. I could see the tape through a little window in the middle of the casing but was concerned at how you'd re-thread it as you did with normal reels.

He told me not to worry, as when it got to the end, it didn't come undone as it was attached to the little plastic piece on the inside and that all you did was take the shell out of the player and flip it over to play the other side. Wow!

I loved this idea. And straight away told my Dad I wanted one.

And what was better, was that the player/recorder came with a leather case that you could put it in and take it out with you as the cassette player used batteries or electric.

I'll never forget when I first saw it - my Dad did get me one not long after and it was on that that I started taping the charts off of the radio back then.

Tapes came in 60, 90 and 120-minute 'cassettes'. I found out quickly that the best ones were the 90-minute ones.

I would love to say that I remembered what that first tape I heard on that cassette was. But I do remember the one song on it, Esther & Abi Ofarim's 'Cinderella Rockerfella.' So it would have been 1968 when this event happened.

And that was the start of a love affair with cassettes that lasted until CDs came about.

I kept all my cassettes for years and eventually gave over 800 to my kids' school for the music department to use.

The funny thing is that 5-6 years ago, I bought another one and started playing old cassettes again.

And can you remember that lovely hissing sound they used to have? Good old 'Dolby' reduction almost sorted that!

Happy Days!

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The Story of Tetris (and an intriguing story it is!)

 

Back in 1989 we bought the game Tetris for the arcade.

It didn't do as well as we'd hoped because I became hooked on it and kept playing it - which meant no-one else could.

It took me a while to work out why it wasn't doing as well as I thought it would (I can be a bit slow on the uptake).

Once I stopped playing on it and gave others the chance, it more than lived up to expectations!

It was a great game. What I didn't realise was the story behind it.

I watched this documentary about it today and have to say it was intriguing and is well worth a watch.

If you can't see the video click here

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Why you shouldn't worry that people tell lies about you.

 

I’ve been seeing this picture on Facebook a lot lately. And here’s my thinking about why it shouldn’t be important to you and why you shouldn’t worry about it.

It doesn’t matter that some people dislike you at the end of the day. The problem is theirs, not yours. If people choose to believe lies about you, that’s their problem, not yours.

I understand no-one likes being lied about. None of us does, but you can’t stop that. There are always going to be people who for one reason or another don’t like you.

It took me until I was in my late 30s to reach the point where I had that ‘lightbulb’ moment.

A little bit of background. I was wronged and I lost a lot of money through it, and it put me and my young family in a perilous position.

It took me around five or six years to recover from the situation – 3-4 financially, but 5-6 mentally.

I was working outside on a cold day mulling over the events that led up to what happened, and I was cussing and moaning to myself about the person who had been the cause of the situation, when all of a sudden, I realised that, he may have been the cause, but I was the solution, not him.

While I seemed to spend all my days seething about it and running it over and over in my head during the day, and night after night not sleeping because of it, he was probably sleeping like a baby. Me beating myself up had absolutely no effect on him.

It made me realise that I needed to draw a line in the sand and forget it and move on as all it was doing was ruining my life. I was allowing myself to be the victim and to stay one. I realised things would only change if I stopped beating myself up over it day after day.

And just like that, I felt as though a weight was lifted off of my shoulders and I was free to move on.

How does that apply to this situation? It was when I realised that I had the choice of how I felt about any situation. I wasn’t in the wrong but I was going through all the pain, over and over again. It dragged me down on a daily basis.

It’s really only in your mind that you can keep dwelling on it. And it's you who can stop taking notice of it and get on with your life caring about the people in your life that matter.

The truth is that everyone sees us through different eyes. No-one sees you the same way you do.

My Dad used to say ‘Those that mind, don’t matter and those that matter, don’t mind.

I can go to bed each night knowing the truth about myself – I know I haven’t tried to do anyone harm. I haven’t taken liberties with anyone. I haven’t run down anyone’s reputation. And I’ve tried to do good. There’s really not much more that I can say. I know who I am and I like me.

Whether others like me or not isn’t my problem.

People who tell lies about you are more likely than not, envious or jealous of you for some reason. Otherwise, they wouldn’t tell lies about you. And while they’re telling lies about you, it’s just wearing them down. If you let it get to you, then they’ve got their desired outcome.

Try it. Start to think badly about someone – does it make you feel better? Yes, you may get a second or two of comfort, but it won’t last.

I thought badly about someone for going on six years. It only did harm to me. It didn’t change what had happened. But I did start moving on once I stopped beating myself up every day, letting it affect me. Now, he doesn’t inhabit my mind other than in passing. And when he does, I just move on.

Those that are telling lies about you know they’re lies. Those that run you down aren’t feeling better for it deep down, not really. If you let it get to you, then they’ve won, they’ve got what they wanted.

Negativity never makes you feel better. Worrying about their lies won’t make you feel better.

If people choose to believe the lies, it doesn’t help the situation, but you, worrying about it won’t either.

I’ve never been one to take sides because someone else doesn’t like someone.

I treat people the way I want to be treated. If someone else has fallen out with a person, that’s their problem, not mine. As long as I get on with that person, I’m not going to stop talking to them because someone else has fallen out with them.

If I fell out with someone, that’s my problem, not yours. I wouldn’t expect you to not talk to them.

There are always going to be envious and jealous people. There are always going to be people who don’t like you.

Don’t worry about it. If you aren’t giving people reason to dislike you, it really isn’t you that has the problem, it’s them.

Liars eventually get found out. Don’t let yourself feel bad about it in the meantime, you’re better than that.

And the people who care about you already know that! And they're the one's who'll fight your corner.

*********************

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Struggles at school for a Showman's son...

I'm one of those people who gets reminded of my past on a fairly regular basis - this came up on my Facebook Memories today.

Facebook memory 13-10-19

 

I had another 'flashback' this morning.

We were living at Burnham-on-Sea at the time.

Like so many others, I'd just taken my 11+ exams but had failed them, so wasn't clever enough to be admitted to the local Grammar School.

The local Comprehensive school was King Alfred's in Highbridge but my parents didn't want me to go there because it had a lot of older kids that had been kicked out of their arcade and they didn't want me being bullied.

So they hunted around for another school and found one locally that was a prep school, St Dunstan's.

St Dunstan's was an Independent School, in which my education was available because my Parents had enough money to pay for it. I was to become a member of the elite school system apparently.

Far from removing me from a school where I may get bullied, they in effect sent me to another school where I'd be bullied for different reasons. The class system at its finest.

Most of the children at this school were following their old-monied parents' footsteps. People who'd been businessmen, well to do farmers and suchlike for generations. The children here were going on to Public Schools and the better things in life. Which made me stand out like a sore thumb.

I could tell straight away that I wasn't one of 'those' people.

Upon entering the student body, I was entered into my class and soon realised that I was no longer James Murphy, just Murphy.

Everyone was addressed by their surname. If you were at the school and you were an elder brother you'd be something like Jones 1 and the younger brother would be addressed as Jones 2.

If you shared a surname with someone else you'd be Murphy in class but Murphy J in the general population.

It soon became apparent that I was looked down upon by many of the boys (it was boys only back in those days).

Once they realised I wasn't from their 'stock' I started getting picked on. 'Smelly Gyppo, 'Pikey' and other names flew around. Apparently, I was only there because my parents were 'nouveau riche.'

Myself and Harry Parkin 1973

I recall a year later when I was in a class named 'Shell' with another Showman's son, Harry Parkin (I'm circled, Harry is next to me on my left), and I was getting picked on after being taken out of school for a 2 week holiday during Autumn term.

They didn't see why I was allowed to have a break when they didn't and so decided I need to be slapped about a bit.

What they didn't understand was that while they were on their 6-week trek across Europe or their holiday in the Bahamas, I was stuck inside an Arcade and Bingo 7 days a week working hard as it was my Parents' business' busiest time. And as with all of my family, we were expected to work! That 2 weeks was my Summer Holiday.

I used to complain to my Mum about it and she told me to stand up for myself and remember, 'Sticks & Stones may break my bones but names could never hurt me.'

And this is where the point of my story comes into play.

I put up with having to be picked on. I had a few fights along the way and eventually, it all stopped.

As well as teachers, there were the infamous 'Prefects' who lorded it over the younger pupils. They imposed their superiority wherever they could.

It was bad enough having teachers who could hit you with a bit of chalk or a blackboard eraser from fifty feet when you were gazing out of the window waiting for the day to end and taking no notice during a lesson. The prefects were another ballgame.

The system of 'fagging' still went on. The prefects would make the younger students go and fetch stuff for them. They'd make you go and do stuff (nothing weird, just stuff to eat up your free time) and they'd basically just be nasty little gits.

And one of those was someone called Cox G. I can't say that he stood out amongst the nastiest of them. In fact, at the time, he seemed no better or worse than the others.

Over the years, I'd forgotten all about him until I was reminded of him a few years ago.

Recently, he became known to a lot of people who've begun to take an interest in Parliament.

Because he is now the Attorney General. He's the guy who turned on the 'Remainers' and called them 'Traitors' and 'Turkeys.'

He's the one that received all the jeers and shouting in Parliament that day,

I have to say, it really made me laugh. I'm sure his time at St Dunstan's and his eventual Public School prepared him for his little performance in Parliament that day.

As for the raucous booing, hissing and grizzling. It was water off a duck's back to him. It also made me realise what a limp-wristed bunch of people are running our country.

They got all upset and caused a scene because someone called them a few names. Their little egos took a pummelling and they couldn't cope.

Well, that just reminded me of my Mum's words all those years ago. "Sticks and stones..."

St Dunstan's may not have saved me from the bullying, but it certainly toughened me up to be an adult in the real world. And for that, I'll be eternally grateful.

And it's given me my 15 minutes of fame because I now can say that I was at school with the UK's Attorney General.

So there!

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Living Big In A Tiny House

During the lockdown, I watched more television than I have for ages and I discovered programmes I've never seen before.

'Living Big In A Tiny House' intrigued me. Having spent a lot of my life in a trailer (caravan), I have intimate knowledge in a confined space of a tiny home, so when I came across this, I wanted to see what it's all about.

First of all, it's on YOUTUBE - luckily I have a Roku, so could watch it on the television.

The premise of it is that people who are sick of the rat race, can't afford the costs to live in a house or just want to live their lives in a different way, have built their own homes in a very small footprint.

What I found in them was that they came up with some ingenious solutions to the problems of living in such a confined area.

And I was surprised by the different kinds of people who took to this way of living.

The show is put together by a husband and wife team. She does all the filming, and he does the presenting. They also love in their own tiny home and their love of the subject matter shines through.

It's a very well produced show and usually runs for around 15-20 minutes to give you a taste of how their subjects live in their home.

I watched one episode and was hooked! 

I found it was an interesting watch and I hope you will too.

Here's an episode to give you a taster.

If you can't see the video, click here

If you'd like to follow them in YOUTUBE, click here

Let me know what you think of the show.

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The Music Of My Life #2

I've never worried about whether people think I'm cool or not and here's a reason why.

When I was a little boy 5 or 6, my Dad had this LP. Just hearing the opening bars of 'Love Walked In' the first song on side 1 and I'm back there, in our arcade in the back room where my dad had a record player and a reel to reel tape recorder that used to feed music into the arcade.

He had tapes full of hits of the late 50s and early 60s, and we had up to date albums like The Beatles' 'Help' or The Shadows' 'Greatest Hits'.

If too many teens were hanging around the arcade, he'd change to music to something like 'The King & I' Soundtrack or he'd play some nondescript Hawaiian tape, which would stop them hanging around!

Seems I've been surrounded by all sorts of music since I was little. And I find that I've always been attracted to music like this as well as 'pop' music.

Just hearing this again brings back so many memories.

If video doesn't play, click here

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Did Brian Jones drown or was he murdered?

 

They used to say that you’re either a Beatles fan or a Rolling Stones fan.

That’s true in my case. I’m most definitely in The Beatles camp. But that never stopped me buying Rolling Stones records or reading books about and by them.

I’ve read biographies about Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and have found them intriguing.

I was only 8 when founder member of the group, Brian Jones died, so didn’t really know much about him, but over the years, I’ve learned more about his life.

He certainly appears to have been a tortured soul and one who really lost his way to drugs. And the story of his death due to drowning in his swimming pool didn’t surprise me.

Last night I saw a documentary, Rolling Stone: Life and death of Brian Jones. It’s a documentary about the events in the life of Rolling Stone legend Brian Jones that lead to his death.

It backed up my feeling that he was an unstable man but hearing the stories of his upbringing and his father’s contempt for him, it didn’t surprise me.

The fact that his parents kicked him out a few days before Christmas in his teens reinforced, for me reasons why he went overboard.

However, there’s no doubt he was his own worst enemy.

But what I wasn’t expecting was how the story of his life panned out. This documentary gave plenty of reasons to be able to assume that his death wasn’t as it has been reported.

There’s enough evidence here to assume that the true story of his death hasn’t been told. And it makes compelling viewing.

There’s a lot of events put forward in this documentary to make you wonder whether his death really happened as reported at the time.

It certainly made us think differently.

If you’re a music fan in general, this is a really good watch. And it’s worth taking the 90 minutes to see it. If you’re an Amazon Prime viewer, it’s available on the platform as part of your subscription.

It’s also available on DVD.

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