LAMB'S AGAINST THE SILENCE, BLEATING AGAIN COS I AM BAAHHRKING MAD

A small addition to the previouse post

2009-09-21T13:09:00.002+01:00

Dammit I should have found this link to the Animals song first, its fantastic, the energy, the noise, the riffs, the raw power wow.The singing ain't as good but I would draw your attention to the Bass player, enough to make the difference I think. She reminds me of some one just cant think who? Wonder if Fabio can help me out? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5Ep0TU9h58&feature=related Do not forget to watch part two, yes it is that long and yes it is worth it.

ENJOY" From a now very hyper Lambo!

Best Pal stands me up

2009-09-21T12:17:00.003+01:00

Yep the swine stood me up, well okay he rang to cancel so no football watching for me. Listened to both games on the radio though and they were both very good. Man City were robbed of a point, not that Man united players, officials, or fans will see it that way but that's the joy of football.

Spurs were pretty well out played and lost 3-0. I know one young man that will be a bit upset but since me and him will be going to see Spurs at White heart lane early November I think he will recover soon enough. On yersell Kev. Despite being a Tottenham fan for a while this will be his first ever game so it should be fun. Sunderland are the opposition so fingers crossed for a win to get his attendance of to a good start, or else uncle George will be buying the beer all night as if that's not going to happen whatever the score is! Just in case any one is reaching for the phone to report impending child abuse Kevin is well over the legal age, just a bit of a late developer in terms of match attendance. Bless

Went for a swim this morning and I had a good 20 mins of pounding up and down the pool, so feel a bit better about things. Although many things about going to the pool make me laugh, like the way the old folks pile in early in the morning and do as much standing chatting as they do swimming. This is strange given that they are standing in little pods of 2 up to 5 all over the pool meaning that me and everyone else who actually wants to swim has the task and added bonus of performing somersaults, emergency stops, sharp turns and generally dealing with an ever changing environment.

The other thing and I do love the old folk they are a good laugh, but why get up at a ridicules time to stand about in pretty cold water sometimes up to their oxters. (If you don't know look it up I am no tellin ye.) gabbing away. Why not just go for a coffee, or stand in the car park, or swim first then do either of the other two. But they are good fun though especially when they get in to talking about who died at the weekend, and other stories of interest.

As I was getting out of the pool the aquafit for the over 50 was starting, its like a combo of dance and movement but held in water. They have a pretty big sound system and the music they play to get the folks moving is always good. This morning though I both laughed and felt sad when I heard the first tune. Mainly it was laughter as it seemed possibly the worst choice ever for an over fifty movement aquafit class on a dreich (look it up) day in Leith. I say sad but in reality that was quickly replaced by feeling uplifted by knowing good things do happen to us all. The song reminded me of my friends Sandy, Fabio, and Matt, to some extent it was also about feeling sorry for myself but I saw through that quickly enough and turned it in to a positive. So yes I know your jumping up and down shouting "what was the song" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxNEiZhpinY go watch it in good health and peace.

A MAN WITH A PLAN

2009-09-20T09:41:00.003+01:00

It's a nice day outside blue sky and warm sunshine, a good day to watch football so thats my plan. Man City take on Man United and then Spurs play play Chelsea. Whilst in Scotland Cetic play Hearts, I know one hoop boy who will be dissapointed if that match is not on telly. But not to worry Malkie whilst were watching my City lads do a number on Fergies fella's we can keep track of the score vie text. You know that I am as interested in seeing the Jambos get a gubbin as you are!!

So thats my plan for the day, it will be a way to stay off the computer.

Be well everyone.

Rollercoaster

2009-09-19T12:20:00.003+01:00

Wow what a few months I have had, feels like I have been on a roller coaster of events and emotions for such a long time. Some very big highs and some stomach churning lows as well as a lot of time flatlining.

So much to fit in and its not going to get done, so I have to choose what to do in this small attempt to get back to some kind of writing.

It's important to me at least to pay my respects to three people who mean more to me life to me. Who in the last 3-4 months have shown me what love and Kindness as well as passion and excitement are all about. All three though have also shown what being human is all about and also someone needs to read to the end to see that I am thinking of them also said. "Life is a journey and on that journey we take many roads. We never know where these roads lead and so we never know the outcome of our journey"

so I name Claire, Sandy, and Fabio. especially Fabio as I have never met the man although I will soon, yet through Sandy he has bean a part of my life for the last few months. He and I share many things but are never going to be in competition. We, so I am told have similar outlooks and views on how to treat people which fills me so full of happiness, I dont envy him or want to be him, I do not want to reduce in any way his ability to enjoy what he has. He has shown me something of myself that I do not acknowledge too often and that is I may be try and be sensible and "clever" but that's a pretence as we are emotional beings and that showing and talking about emotions is one of the most important things that humans can do.

We both know in our ways what is is like to be unsure about ourselves and not know what others are feeling and see that as a reason to be distant. However recently we have both tried to change that and have been rewarded enormously for our courage. I wish my new friend Fabio every happiness and a long life with a woman who is special to both of us and who needs you more than anyone else.

Working backwards here so it will be Sandy next, I have been so very stupid and not read what you have written previously as you meant them. This makes a difference not because it means anything different and not because it changes anything. But I gained a new insight by revisiting what you said, I now understand how much of a surprise it was for you to meet me and also how the result of that was again something that took you by surprise. If anything it makes me feel much more secure and more appreciative of your tenacity and desire to keep in contact even though I was trying to do my usual macho "let me be thing" Words I thought were something I did well, but you with help from others have shown me that I fear myself more than I can express in words. You are so special to me as you know, I hope you read what I say to Fabio and know that it applies to you too.

Well that leaves the last but not least in any way, the opposite in fact. Claire has been the one that has been on the receiving end of a lot of the highs and lows if I went through them, then she unfortunately came with me without being asked if she wanted to or not. If we never go on these roller coaster rides we never learn, I am as sure as I can be that we must keep learning and never become too comfortable with what we have and what we think. Sometimes it means you pushing me out of my comfort zone, being more proactive and less comfortable. It I hope will make us happier and stronger.
I say to all three that after the last week I know that I am loved and appreciated and I return it to you as best I can.

I want to say to Matt though that you were the one that talked about the need to write things down as well as the journey. I hope you continue to do so and that your journey is also helped by the people who love and care for you, I see myself in that group so I tell you I will be with you. My last week was echoed in a very strange way by your own, as we discussed. I found comfort and strength in talking to you I am here or in the pub any time you say.

Health and wellness to you all, I would wish happiness but thats as Sandy knows is not something anyone has to give to someone else .

Learning from the past

2009-07-13T09:25:00.003+01:00

I am sitting listening to a radio phone in about the war in Afghanistan, as normal a range of arm chair generals and political leaders are having a portion of their 15 minutes. I have my views and as you would expect they do not coincide with all those on air.

One of the biggest points of divergence is history it should be something that people take as a point of reference not particularly a point of difference.
History is not a neutral subject, after all history is written by the victors so the saying goes.

Although in these days of twitter and other instant messaging systems who wins and more importantly how they win a war, a battle, or even a popular uprising is contested. Also national mythologies that add to the way that people see themselves using cultural queue's to skew historical fact is common, like the Balkan peoples who revisit ancient battles over and over to underpin their sense of victim hood, they do so not in the political sphere but in art, song, and poetry in other words their cultural backdrop.
The Scots are often accused of a certain amount of "chippiness" in relation to their southern neighbours. This chip was highlighted and deepened by Mel Gibson in his almost entirely fictional film "Braveheart", it might have done much to increase Scottish identity at home and abroad, and it probably increased the notion that the Scots were a viable people with a united cause even though no such thing as a homogeneous nation exists.

However Like the Balkans nations repeating the sins and the sinners against each of them, Mel and his "Braveheart" allowed the Scots to over look the inconvenience of historical fact being trampled underfoot. Much in the same way it seems to me that those who argue that we should withdraw from Afghanistan would have us do.

Their argument seems to be two fold:
1 No one has ever subdued the different tribes so why bother trying to now. Let's pull out and leave them to run their own country as they want, the price we are paying is too high.
2 Our troops are dying because they have the wrong equipment and or not enough of the right equipment. We should leave if we cannot give the troops the things they need, and it is the fault of the government that as a money saving principle will not fund the equipment.

My interest in these sentiments is not in the truth of these claims, or even refuting them. My interest is purely in the way that history is used to justify these stand points. History as I said is not neutral and neither is it meant to be reduced to mere facts and figures, a set of cold statistics, dates, blood lines, or litanies of who did what to whom. History is meant to be used to inform discussion not be the start and end point of a discussion.

An example would be the second of the 2 points of view: Historically the troops landing on the beaches of Normandy in 1944 had superior fire power, manpower, intelligence, and numbers of machines, than the defending forces ranged against them. However even with all these advantages plus the additional leg up offered by the inability of the Germans to committee resources and men as a result of being pressed hard by Russian forces on the eastern front, it took the allies over two months to break out at the cost of many thousands of lives, many more than had been bargained for.

In part this cost in lives was a failure to equip properly as the German tanks and artillery were much better even though fewer in number than those in use in the allied armies. their tanks for example could sustain direct hits from most of the armour in use by the allies, whilst the allied tanks were out gunned and less well armoured. It was also a failure in organisation in that the allies organised themselves differently and so therefore good practice was slow to be recognised and adopted, therefore lives were wasted by employing outdated methods and tactics. Above all though the Germans just like the Afghans had the natural lay of the land working for them not just in the way they were able to use them to their advantage, but also because they were able to adapt themselves more easily to suit the surrounding landscape. Hedgerows were littered with mines, booby traps, anti personnel, and vehicle devices. Many thousands of people not just armed service personnel died as a result, and many more suffered horrendous life changing injuries.

The phrase boots on the ground is not just a euphemism for more troops, it is an actual military imperative. You cannot clear out caves, or hedge rows from a tank. No helicopter will help you locate hidden munitions, or booby trapped vehicles, houses, or bridges. Human service personnel because they are human have always been the most vulnerable to damage, until they are no longer on the battlefield they will remain so.

As I said history should not be fixed or seen as something that has no lessons for now or for times to come. Perhaps history tells us to plan better, listen, more, fight much less. What it absolutely tells us though is that war, any war results in death. Those that want to use history to tell us that death can and should be eliminated by having the right equipment or more money being spent on equipment fail to acknowledge that history shows us only that equipment is only as good as the use it is put to, and the conditions that it has to deal with.

History has nothing to say though on why and where we fight. If it did it might point to the unification of Germany, or Italy. Both achieved by force of arms, both resulted in nations that although we may think of as being former enemies, will at least be recognised as working democratic, and stable countries offering a unique in put to the countries and people of the rest of the world. History might even lead us in a discussion on why we put up with the massive losses suffered on the first day of the Somme in 1916, a battle in a war that had people asking from even before war was declared.
"why we were fighting for a country that had nothing to do with them."
The invasion of Belgium was the official cause of our entrance in to the great war, because the British government had said it wold defend its allies if attacked.

If people would use history as a tool and not a justification for action or inaction, we might be able to stop armchair generals and prime ministers from wasting their breath. It might also allow us to talk openly about the value we place on life and if the death of one servicemen is one too many in the pursuit of ideals, then we need to be clear on what ideals we as a nation wish to pursue.

Busy week

2009-07-09T10:17:00.003+01:00

So have not been on all week as with one thing and another I have not had the time.

Monday I went to one of my the three favourite cafes in Edinburgh http://www.caffelucano.co.uk/ to meet with Hazel. It was a humid day but no direct sunlight so not a day for the window seat from which tourists and workers can be observed passing to and fro. No problem as Lucano has a diverse clientele ranging from the odd person of uncertain means down on there luck as well as their uppers, through to very well to do members of the judiciary fresh from the proceedings at one of the 3 court houses close by. School children old ladies, working people in high viz vests, executives in expensive suits, women who lunch to mothers who gabble amongst themselves about children, homes, holidays, and others who are not present. Students at the university just up the road as well as a great many like me who are students of life and humanity. In short a great place for people watching.

As is my want I get there about 1 and a half hours earlier so I can get a plate of their fantastic minestrone, the people watching lives up to expectation but the minestrone is gone so it has to be lentil soup instead. Never mind thought its still a good plate of soup and lovely crusty bread.

Hazel arrives with a surprise she has brought along Kate hooray, long time since I have seen Kate so it is a real treat. Hazel and Kate recently decided to get engaged which is great news as it keep them both from hanging around street corners, and takes the stress of looking out for them both of us. Good for you both very pleased that you two are sorted. I just have to get, Sam, Gina, and Malkie sorted as well as the whole world poverty thing and then my work here is done.

So after a catch up very little of it about Hazel and Kate much more on Hazels course and job prospects, I left them with their beacon butties and went to do an errand that I cannot divulge much about at the moment. What I can say though is that the time was about 4.30pm by the time I had finished, I was hot thirsty and just a little stressed. I went to one of the many bars in the area I was in and had a bottle of very passable blue moon wheat beer http://www.bluemoonbrewingcompany.co.uk/ not as good as Belgian wheat beer, but it helped cool me down.

I must have been much hotter than I thought as 5 hours later having visited three other bars I got home, cooler but pretty much wasted. Ah well it's not like I have work to get up for, this disability thing needs to have some upsides or else it would be called normality and those who do not have mental or physical life affecting conditions would be the disadvantaged ones.

The hangover kept Tuesday to a minimum, although as penance I did hoover and tidy round.

Yesterday I went to a meeting at the housing association that we rent from. The idea was to give them feedback on the material that they produce. Well it was transport and lunch provided so why not. I did have another reason for going and that was to get a feel for the much heralded commitment to building communities and supporting tenants participation. I have been thinking for a while about seeing if people in the same development want to start a tenants group. We do not have many problems, litter, people leaving stuff in places they shouldn't that kind of stuff. However as this development gets older problems might start to appear, also were lucky that although we have a wide variety of tenants we have no real problem tenants. What if a family of thugs moved in? We would stand a much better chance of getting the situation sorted if we were a group not just individuals.

So the meeting was OK it covered the ground that it was supposed to, although the feeling that we were their to do someone else's job persisted for most of the meeting. It was the others who attended that interested me: On the down side I was the youngest by about 10 years which was a not unexpected disappointment. What also transpired was that every other tenant there took an active interest in both the development that they live in and the governance of the housing association, an unpleasant and unexpected finding.

A range of committees and panels exist to help guide the association which I am now thinking about getting involved with. Also as a direct result of yesterday and being enthused by the other tenants at the meeting, I am writing to all of my neighbours inviting them to help me set up a communal get together that will be part BBQ and part Ceilidh. That should give me the backdoor to introduce the idea of a tenants group.

Well that takes us to today as you see I am catching up on the blog, whilst I wait for the local kids to come out in numbers so that I can get them to deliver the flyer's about the get together.
I need to try and do some work on another writing project as well as blog on some of my friends who I have not introduced you too. Lots to do and little talent to do it with.

2009-07-05T10:00:00.003+01:00

Writing what I feel is supposed to be part of the reason for keeping this blog in existence, some days though I don't know what I feel.
More accurately I feel nothing or what I do feel is so intangible, whispery, and formless that it is like a snowflake. It no sooner forms it's shape before it begins to disintegrate leaving an impression of something, but not a whole thing.

Ok so I am not being particularly clear, when I say I feel nothing it's like an emptiness a void that I have slipped in to. I have no emotions or no feelings about anything, or any one. People and events around me seem like they are behind glass and that I am only an observer. Even that notion of being an observer seems to active, a rock on the shore that sits and allowes the the surf to break over it is more me. I think I have identified that on those days I need human contact the most, someone to hold me or jut be with me, not talking or engaging with me, just allowing me to find my way back from the void. Who knows it might be a product of the boredom an extreme form of escapism, bored with me so become the environment or the actual space that I inhabit.

Trying to think and write about these feelings or that state of existence is very much like I am over analysing things way too much. My mind rebels at the idea of exploring this as I half convince myself I am making something out of nothing.

How it would be to be dead, the quiet and the stillness of being dead, the peace for me and others if I were dead, the hope that being dead is something that will take place in the not to distant future. Although this is warped thinking it is what I do so and feel, that aint nothing.

Again if nothing is there if I am BORED or imagining my own troubles how can I have got to a place where I hate myself so much. I have turned in on myself because I am bored is that it.

But then I was not always bored I have been active and engaged in life but still wanted to be dead, in fact in the past during the times when I was busy I would think about killing myself, how to, and where, and when. At least I do not go that far now, I still self harm with food and booze, I know the things that would change me physically and probably mentally as well. Exercise fresh air etc, so why don't I do them, is it because I am lazy fat and stupid that a part of me yells in my head, or is it I just want to be dead. I wish I knew.

Ok so it feels like I am rejecting the boredom answer, something has been wrong for much longer than I probably want to concede, Boredom does not make an impact on how I feel about myself, even when I do well I still feel that I should and could have done better and the reason I did not do as well as I should have is that I am fat lazy and stupid. I am fat lazy and stupid I don't deserve to be anything else than that. My past is constantly with me I will never atone for past mistakes, I will never allow myself to be free of guilt for things long ago done. I hurt myself now far more than I hurt any one previously, I will only stop using myself against myself when I am dead. This death thing does seem to come round allot in my head.

What this post has been about is mainly me experimenting with just sitting down and writing what ever comes in my head when I think about why I am the way I am. I doubt it will make any sense to me in a couple of days time so if it makes no sense now to anyone else that's fine.

RESULTS

2009-07-02T13:07:00.003+01:00

It's both far too hot today and I am tired from not sleeping that well last night to do anything but wave the keyboard at the page.

But I do want to share something and acknowledge progress that I have made in how I think of myself.

Yesterday I met up with Matt, a long and dear friend of mine, we sat in the sun on a noisy corner in Leith where the Turkish guys have a shop. http://www.cafetruva.com/

In between acknowledging every third person who passed by Matt and I chatted about our different "takes" on the conditions and limitations that effect our daily life. These would be called disabilities by the wider world, but since we are the ones that experience them we call them limitations.

Matt did what he normally does to me, he starts a conversation that I think I imagine I see the end point to, he then switches it and presents me with a whole new range of ideas and only then do I see he was going in that direction all along.

In this instance he paid me a compliment on one of the articles on here, and said that it had helped him think about his own situation. With out too much effort I accepted the compliment and allowed myself to feel like I had done something good.

Last night I was talking to Samantha who again said that she both liked the piece posted yesterday, and that it had been helpful to see herself through someone elses eyes. Again with as much good grace as I could muster I accepted the compliment and acknowledged that I had done something worthwhile.

And that's the change right there, changing your mindset and taking control of your own well being has to include allowing yourself to be praised, and accept praise. Feel that you are valued from others and feel the burn of self congratulations.

Needless to say I have struggled most of my life to acknowledge that I have done anything of value, I still do not accept praise nor do I offer praise to myself as a mater of routine. It goes well beyond being my worst critic, it is part of not having a strong or robust self esteem. Also it is a founding pillar of my mental health problems. Never doing enough or never reaching targets or goals is another sign of how weak and shallow I am, it provides a large and heavy stick to beat myself with. Setting the goals too high though or not acknowledging the barriers to succes is something I never allow myself to facter in.

Thank you to both Matt and Sam for giving me the opportunity to hear positive things about my impact on them, I will try to be less critical of myself but I feel the journey to be comfortable with that part of myself will be long indeed.

"WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET"

2009-07-01T11:03:00.005+01:00

Feeling better today so full post, I think that is probably shorthand for "I have no idea where I'm going with this."

So nowadays many sayings from computer speak have come in to every day usage, WYSIWYG is a prime example. In days gone buy it would have been "People take me as I am" or "Take as you find". They all mean roughly the same thing and that is that your dealing with the real thing, no pretense or falseness is intended. Sounds fair enough don't you think, good knowing that the person or the entity you are engaging with has no ulterior motive or hidden agenda.

We are probably far to used to being sceptical and cynical these days, not helped by the general feeling of powerlessness that comes from government and big business controlling and knowing more about ourselves than we are happy with. Our instinct would seem to be to trust no one or at the very least never take things at face value.

I want to introduce you to Gina and Samantha women that I have recently met. They each look and sound different, they live in different countries, they have totally different family and cultural experiences. Both because of their jobs would totally subscribe to the WYSIWYG ideology, in fact that's what there earning capacity depends on.

I met them through there work as sales reps, and was taken in like everyone else by the outward appearance and the sales pitch that they were using at the time. I happened to engaged them in closer discussion and found that one of my long cherished philosophies of life to be proved 100% correct again.

Each woman has experienced things in their life that I just cant begin to understand. They have coped with such emotional upheaval, physical and emotional pain, feelings of isolation and loneliness that frankly these experiences would have killed me, or I would certainly have killed myself. Each and every week newspapers are filled with the stories of women much like Gina and Sam, they are not unique in what they have each been through, the sad truth is though that far more people suffer the type of traumas and damage that these two have gone through than we ever hear about. It is also sad that when we do hear about these stories it is in often lurid and sensational reports that turn those involved in to the modern day equivalent of freak shows. The case of Michael Jackson's life and death are a case in point.

Gina and Samantha, are two of the loveliest, funny, intelligent, and insightful people I have met and I do not say that just because we agree on so much. I say it to shore up the point that I am going to make and that is, here we have a perfect case of what you see is what you get working on two levels at once. Both these woman are open and straightforward, if and only if you take the time and trouble to look past the mask that they show. With integrity and not an ounce of self pity will they tell you about themselves and their experiences. That's not to say they broadcast their private lives to anyone within earshot, or that they are so fragile from their experiences that they need to share with others at any offered opportunity. Nothing could be further from the truth, each is private and reserved only opening up to those that they believe will not mistreat the information that they share.

In many ways they share qualities with Jim the subject of an earlier post, the chief one being dignity, although Independence and self determination are both qualities that these two women share with what I believe to be the majority of womanhood.

My philosophy you see is that women are much stronger and much more capable than men, indeed not so long ago I told Sam that once the production of sperm can be achieved on an industrial scale with out men, that only leaves opening jars and dealing with spiders as our contribution to society. I am not making a new point here I think most men and women acknowledge the point that apart from the jar thing, there is no weaker sex. In terms of equality though women have had centuries of abuse, being treated like dirt, having family taken from them with out notice or explanation (Think wars and men being drafted or coerced here people.) as well as being the ones who by and large have been forced to start over with nothing sometimes two or three times in their life. I don't know if it is now a genetic trait that women cope or deal with things emotionally and practically in a way that allows them to function, if it is then that would explain why very few men show the same toughness and resolve.

Gina and Sam both have one last thing in common, and that is hope. Both are working their way towards something, they have goals and they have the light at the end of the tunnel. I cannot say they have turned their lives round that would not be fair as I think both have always been strong individual characters, so I don't see that they had anything to turn round. What they have done though is that they have not handed control to other people, or given away responsibility for their lives to others despite how it looked and felt at the time. Their strength though came from within, and their life was always theirs to take charge of. Many women find the same strength only after horrific experiences, some only realise they have that strength too late to alter they way their lives play out. I am very glad that both Gina and Sam will not be victims any more.

I said WYSIWYG works on two levels, the second level is something for the rest of us. Whilst Gina and Samantha and the millions of others like them get on with their lives we encounter them from day to day in a series of different settings. How often do we stop and really chat about ourselves, how many times does it occur to us that the person serving us in the store, the drunk on the street, the homeless person in the doorway, have a history that make them who they are. More pointedly how many of us would care, how many of us would tell them to get on with it like Gina and Sam have done, thoughtlessly and with no mind to the pain and the hurt it takes to move forward.
I think I know the answer to those questions, but yet on a day to day basis little acts of kindness and generosity take place in the world around me that knock my view that people are thoughtless and don't care about others. These little acts keep my hope alive that humanity is not doomed to lose it's ability to feel other peoples pain, or offer part of ourselves with no thought of reward

WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET works just as well when each of us thinks that it applies to us, and that what others see of us should be openness and friendship, tolerance and respect. Women like Gina and Sam show us who they are both on the surface and on deeper levels. They like the rest of us might wear masks to protect themselves, but unlike others their ability to be themselves and not pretend otherwise even though the temptation is offered and would seem an appealing option is why they are examples of the type of human being I aspire to be.

Gina and Sam are now friends of mine, although in reality we have never met, and we only know a very limited part of each others life's. We know about each other, rather than we know each other would be a better way of thinking about it. I hope we stay friends long enough for the three of us to meet, chat, and laugh.

Nothing

2009-06-30T15:11:00.002+01:00

Not saying much today, as I feeliing your basic brain dead. Not sure if I need more sleep or it's the depression/boredom, but putting one word next to anothe is like running a marathon complete with walls that I keep hitting.

Hope every one is well and I look forward to telling you about some people soon.

Happy Mondays

2009-06-29T13:19:00.002+01:00

Hello to you all, I hope you are all well and in one piece after the weekend. We have had a mixed weekend, some pain, some routine cleaning, some decision making about holidays and a huge dollop of wonder accompanied by stress.

I am sure it will be the last on the list that you will have caught your interest most, if indeed any one wanted to hear about the house cleaning then I will certainly oblige, however I intended to tell you about the wonder and stress from the start.

So last night Sunday the 28th at roughly 8.30pm Claire in a rather startled and panicky voice announces "That's not right". I enquire the cause of her puzzlement.
Silence
40 seconds pass, long enough for me to assume that the panic was either a false alarm or a solution to the problem had been found when one again "That's not right" came from Claire's lips although this time in a more incredulous rather than startled voice.

So this time I employed a different tactic, I do not just pretend to be interested I pull my chair back and look in her direction to give full weight to the sound of my inquiry being a genuine and eager attempt to help.

She announces that last Monday, a week ago today a mystery deposit of £20.0000 had appeared in to our current account, and this being the first time she had checked the account online in a week was also the first we knew of it. This indeed was startling and shocking news, not to mention Claire had been gripped with fear at this sudden appearance of such a large amount of dosh.

We were both silent for a moment or two and then started throwing out improbable origins of the money.
Had we one the Lottery? We thought that was not the answer as they would surly have told us, plus the stumbling bloke of our refusal to buy lottery tickets made this very unlikely.

Had our premium bonds come up? Again unlikely for the same first reason as the lottery, but we do indeed have premium bonds so it remains an outside possibility.

Had someone died and left us an amount of money? It shocked us to think that we had descended so quickly in to the levels of fiction combined with nonsensical logic. Not that we are unimaginative, or posses no talent for believing in miracles. Claire is a Christan and I am a Hibs supporter so we know about long term belief in miracles. To think though that we arrived so quickly at such a level of suspended disbelief was a wake up call about ourselves. The inescapable conclusion was that it is a mistake, and now we have to decide what to do about it.

The temptation to say nothing and quietly spend it or siphon it in to other accounts would have been irresistible to some. The advice pages of papers, magazines, and Internet sites regularly host to tales similar to ours where the money has indeed been spent, the mistake noticed and the bank or whoever starts asking for the money back. We knew it was not ours so the only way we could live with ourselves was to go and tell the bank so.
That decision made did we relax? No we did not.
Claire spent the next hour feeling creeped out by this intrusion in to our private banking affairs, then she spent the hour after that worrying that at any second the front door would be booted in by the police accusing us of money laundering, drug running, theft, bank robbery, any number of crimes. I say Claire worried but I also gave some passing thought to how we would explain the money when challenged by authority figures. I though tried hard not to think about the money as I knew I would have it spent 6 times over if I gave it any thought, which would make the "giving it back" more painful than necessary.

Well this morning we went to report the foul deed and get what we thought were our justly deserved congratulations on being honest and upright citizens. We were just a little taken aback by being told that the chap we spoke to had no idea where the money had come from, and that he would have to pass the case to someone else. This someone else will phone this afternoon to tell us what they have found out. So here I am waiting in all day for a phone call that will tell me bad news. It is not a new experience but sitting knowing for sure it is bad news and desperately wanting to here the bad news is somewhat different. I was hoping to do other things today and indeed the sun is starting to break through the clouds that has shrouded Leith all day, me though I am stuck waiting for the call that despite telling us we are twenty thousand pounds less well of, will at least give us back our calm boring world. Happy Mondays indeed.

NOT A GOOD DAY

2009-06-26T09:02:00.002+01:00

Just a short post today as I am in pain and just cannot be bothered doing much today. Just at the moment most of my joints are in some stage of open revolt. Left knee and ankle are leading the revolt with increasing levels of pain and tension in my ligaments and muscles. However elbows and shoulders as well as toes have all shown an interest in registering their unhappiness.

What the complaint is, I have no idea. Perhaps that the weather has changed dramatically, from Sunny and warm it is cloudy overcast and cold. Traditionally bad weather for arthritis type joint pain.

There is no need to be in pain however as most long term disabled or sick people know a huge range of pain relief exists. Pharmaceuticals as well as heat gels and pads are available, as well as the teas and candles for those of that way of thinking. Me though I sit or lie in pain till I cannot take any more. I cannot explain why any better than to tell you that I find the pain a comfort, it is me. It is my life, it is what I know best. I can relate to it and deal with it.

I know it sounds crazy and it probably is perhaps just a reflection of being in pain. I suspect though that others similar to me might understand what I mean. If you do leave a message and let me know.

I cannot leave this post with out saying how sad I am that M. JACKSON is dead and that for those interested in music as well as the joy that he gave to millions he should be mourned.

Talking quietly and NOT carrying a stick at ALL!

2009-06-25T16:53:00.006+01:00

It has been a pretty TopsyTurvey world the last few months for every one, banks, age old high street brands, pensions, and confidence in the world as we thought we knew it. All disappearing like "snow of a dyke" as the Scots saying goes.

Undoubtedly lives have been ruined, and more importantly peoples hopes and dreams for their family and themselves have been crushed, sometimes overnight or even in the space of an afternoon. Perhaps this is the biggest single area of damage done by the global crises including the swine flue outbreak, people entrench themselves and their views, protecting themselves to the detriment of others, looking after number one and their own suddenly becomes all consuming.

People lose sight of hope and ambition, and in general settle for less not expect more of themselves and the society they live in. We saw it about bankers pay off's and pensions, we saw it again this week with the strikes about redundancies, and of course we saw it about MP's expenses. The blame game and the baying for blood were the soundtrack, not the voices that were saying the system is broke lets make a better one.

On the level of looking to vent anger and to apportion blame I think it's a human that we react emotionally and not rationally. The more so as those that seem to have screwed us over seem to have already fled the scene or get to flee, with there lives more or less intact. Even those that have been publicly put in the stocks the sacrificial goats if you like are paid handsomely to divert the attention of the mob and let both other culprits and the system that's broke get away like a cat bugler with the loot and a plan to lie low till it's quieter.

The mob face poverty and debt as well as social, medical, and emotional melt down. Is this the true nature of globalisation, the more we pull ourselves apart in our drive to pursue individualism, the more the poor in Caracas feel the recession started in Washington, via the vast middle class of Britain. Then again I was never a fan of poor people being paid a pittance to supply richer people with stuff they don't need, or capitalism to give it it's proper name.

The mob though has a massive flaw. They tend to be wrong most of the time, as in the looking after number one mindset. It may seem like a perfectly rational thing to do, but when has protectionism ever worked? It has lead to wars, nationalism the bad kind, racism, eugenics, and other forms of discrimination too many to count.

The mob breads fear, they form a collective against difference and change. Mobs run amok with conspiracy theories and imagined enemies either taking their jobs, land, or culture away from them. They become so paranoid that people have to die sometimes in large numbers in order for enough people to snap out of their collective madness.

We all have a responsibility to not be part of the mob, we all need to step up with our own ideas and thoughts, not just regurgitate what others have said, or believe facts as told to you by a newspaper or some guy in the pub. Think for yourself should be tattooed on one arm, and critical thinking should be taught from nursery all the way through school.

Lastly we should all communicate our thoughts in our own communities so that other people who live in the same areas as each other can test out your ideas and thoughts against their own experience and logic. Phoning shock jocks writing to national papers, appearing on day time telly either to defend or decry people or things you have no immediate personal knowledge of, is not 15 minutes of fame, it is declaring you are part of the mob and so likely to be part of the problem.

Where we are now

2009-06-23T11:11:00.006+01:00

So I said lots of stuff had happened since the end of the last session of Blogging and the start of this one, and I also said that I would fill in some of the history. Well as they say at the start of most American series:

"Previously on planet Lambo"

HOME
We left Carrrick Know Loan about 15 months ago now for sunnier shores, to be geographically informative we now live in Leith. It is true the Sunshine's on Leith each and every day just as the song says http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NzPmtQTuVI but perhaps it is more to do with feeling like I have come home.
My Dad and his large family, and extended family all come from Leith so it's like a back to the roots thing. It's odd but being in Leith is definitely a change from anywhere else. The feeling that this is a distinct community, with a strong sense of it's identity, history, and purpose has lent a personal feeling of belonging to the move. Goes with out saying that these strong shared comunity perceptions are under constant attack from the passing of those individuals who are steeped in the lore and the history of Leith, as well as redevelopment bringing people from all over the world in to the area. However as long as the history of Leith is available for people to investigate for themselves I think people will always "feel" like Leithers. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leith

The house we moved to is 98% perfect, the other 2% is just proof that perfection is a concept that is useful to aspire too and damn difficult to achieve. It is fully wheelchair accessible, large wet room, huge hall, front and back doors (2 back doors actually) as level as thy can be, given that we still live in Scotland and we need a little lip to keep the rain out. Kitchen that has enough space for a full size table AND room to circulate in a chair. The one thing that could have been included is toilet just off the bedroom, this would have made things easier on days when not just lower limbs are talking back to me, but elbows and shoulders as well.

The last comment about limbs and shoulders and stuff, becomes less important when you look at it as something other than a place to eat sleep and watch daytime television. The house, it's location just yards away from shops, pubs, bus stops, huge public park, neighbours that I interact with all improve the quality of my life.

Don't get me wrong I am as buggered as I always was, physically nothing will change that. But the days of being in enough pain to justify taking the more extreme levels of pain killers, and having to just stay absolutely still have definitely decreased. I am also more mobile even going to the local shop on foot which is a change for the better. Doing more housework, keeping the place tidy, doing the laundry etc, Claire thinks that is change for the better. :) Seeing more of my friends so being less isolated. However I look at it the move, and this house have been as good as a new lease of life.

All this and we also by the skin of our teeth sold the house in Carrick Knowe Loan weeks before the housing bubble burst making a,profit so we have no money problems long term. We also know that as this is a housing association place we will never have to worry about the repairs or any other housing costs for the rest of our lives. If things go badly we can claim housing benefit, if things go well we can use surplus money to help others as we have already.

We know how lucky we have been, we also know that some people thought we were mad to give up the whole rat run that home ownership has become. We had people praying that we would find a way to make our debt larger in terms of getting another loan, or that we could find a way to magically find another £300 pounds income each month.
My politics meant that I drove us foreword to this change, I wanted us to get away from the huge debt of a mortgage. I believe in affordable rented housing as the first option not as a second best or "poor" persons option. I also know though that these days millions of people especially disabled people who need the type of house and the change in life opportunities that I have had will be forced to live a life in poverty and probably have an earlier death than necessary.

So for me the "Sunshine" is indeed on Leith.

Here comes the sun

2009-06-23T09:03:00.003+01:00

Well another day and even more amazingly another day where the sun is splitting the paving stones. Global warming might be a danger to millions, and apart from the constant threat of a rogue meteor global warming presents the biggest threat to the planet. On the other hand the purely selfish and up to now fantasy based idea that Scotland would one day rival California or Florida in terms of being seen as the best most fun place to live, work, and holiday now seems to be less of a fantasy and now a vague hope.

If we really tried hard we could turn Edinburgh in to the new St Tropez, indeed plans are all ready in place to construct a board walk that would wind it's way round a 17km stretch of the coastline. OK the down side is that the coast is of the Firth of Forth and not the Med, plus despite the gentrification of large parts of Leith and Granton I cannot see the likes of George Clooney, or Rihanna wandering with out a care through some of the "ahem" less developed areas.

Actually given Edinburgh attempt at taking it's self back to the inter war years of the 1930's by reintroducing a tram system which is generally unwanted by the residents of Edinburgh, is costing so much that the city will have finances and services that are at the same levels as the 1930's we will be unable to build the board walk. Add to that the chaos of the major road and pavement arteries in Edinburgh being ripped up for the best part of 2 years destroying both jobs and the enjoyment of living in one of Europes most beautiful cities and you have to wonder if any one will be here to enjoy the fantastic weather that allows stunning views of Edinburgh and the Surrounding Scottish countryside.

Hang on though the huge long trenches that have been dug all over Edinburgh to move cables and utilities, as well as lay the tram rails of course could be Incorporated in to a better idea that would help us regenerate Edinburgh Economy, give the place the wow factor before the global warming hits, and bring back the pride of those people lucky enough to live in Edinburgh.

What happens is this, we make the trenches wider and deeper. We then Join them all up, fill them with water and go for Venice instead of St Tropez. Once the Global warming hits we beat the crap out of California, Thailand, all of the Med, and Australia.
ME FOR SCOTTISH FIRST MINISTER.

Edinburgh is also known as "The Athens of the North" so the "Venice o the Celts" sounds good to me. I have a couple of links for folk if they want to do background reading.

Tales from the dark side.

2009-06-21T18:24:00.008+01:00

I had said that I was going to do a serious minded thing on either politics or activism, guess what I am not. Shock horror Lambo says one thing and then does another.

What happened is all to do with family, Yes I know I used the F word but I am not in the least apologetic as out if the disaster area of the Lambo family inter action, has risen a shining spire of hope, and as a by product of the eruptions that lead to this revival of hope I have learned a few lessons.

So who amongst us does not feel the cold fingers of fear when someone announces a family conference has been called. I know I am not alone when I say that my family is as functional as a canoeist with out a paddle. The canoe floats but it does not go anywhere, nor can it get out of the creek filled with smelly stuff, nor can it save it's self from the oncoming tide of smelly stuff. So it's broke, and the many attempts to fix it in the past have only served to rock the canoe filling it up with smelly stuff, rather than adding to anything positive. If this were your family and I know many people have families who are very similar to mine then you may be aware of the near panic that I felt as I entered the room of members of my family, the feeling had something of walking in to the lions den shortly before feeding time about it.

However two things were positive from the outset. The First was that the meeting had been called by my Niece M, she lives along way away so that every one knew that something of importance was to be discussed. This I think was acknowledged because people made the effort to be there. Secondly I have not seen M for many months and as kids I was really rotten to her but that passed and we did for a while in our teens get on quite well. I had not seen her for a long while so it was going to be good to see her no matter what we talked about. Besides as she constantly reminds me she can run faster than me so although apprehensive I was feeling positive.

This was challenged straight away by the news that the status quo would have to change in respect of the arrangements to do with who looks after my dad. At the moment my sister does the care giving which is much more about keeping the house and our father clean and tidy. Now though sis is not well and the stress of "doing" for the old fella is adding to her ill health, and not giving her time to deal with her own situations. On the face of it it would seem a fairly straight foreword discussion. Sis cannot continue how do we organise things now.

That though is where families that have broken down tend to find the issues get complicated.

Was there a shared view of what the problems were?NO

Was there a willingness or an understanding that change needed to happen? NO

Are people ready to see that even simple things like civility to others in the family might achieve something? Again NO.

But then it hit me that these contested areas were now the problem and not who does what, how, or when. M had come in and had to throw out all the crap that me, my other siblings, and our father were carrying around with us.

One huge area was that the old fella like other older folk, is not realistic when it comes to saying what he can or cannot manage. If this is pride or lack of ability to see his faults we could argue till were blue in the face. However from experience he does not do some basic stuff and that needs managed. The other side of that though is his lack of willingness to see any one else doing these things but my sister. Having no stranger in the house is as close to the 11th commandment as it can get from my dad's perspective. Partly it is the old fashioned idea of families looking after there own. When I say families the expectation is that it will be a female member of the family, and since my sis, M's mother is the only one then the expectation is on her. So here we have one of the central knots in this problem. However it strikes me that in this country this is a class based notion, after all the idea of cleaning ladies working for busy professional people, or in large houses has been the norm for years. Working class people though are meant to take pride in managing for themselves, be proud that they can re arrange their own dust or just put up with the dust in the same place if they are not able to clean for themselves.

I say here that I did not share the expectation of my sister taking on the care role, mainly as since I have been disabled since birth, and so mixed with both careers and disabled people I was aware that this is a cultural myth that society keeps telling it's self. This myth that a family member, as said normally a female family member, looks after one or even two other people in the same family saves the state millions in health care as well as social service costs each year. This fact is not lost on governments and as such the women who do this care are normally called heroes but treated like villains, offered prizes for being selfless and conforming to societies wishes. Denied however a decent income, state pension credits, or even a recognised contribution to the running of our communities and our country.

As M was describing and very fairly saying that her mother could no longer provide the care as she was doing, the first of many revelations came to me. Despite having argued that after our fathers last trip in to hospital my sis should not take on the care role, when she did it, it went unchallenged. I could have done that, but did not mainly because of the dysfunctional state of the family.

Then when M started going on to the subject of civility something else clicked into place, and here is the main point of what I am saying in this piece.

As a dysfunctional family we have become adept at dealing with each other, mainly by having as little contact as we possibly can, or by keeping the contact level that we do have to the most basic of levels. As M pointed out though too basic even to say "hi", or to acknowledge that we are moving in to a shared space, like a communal house. In fact we had instituted our own safety barriers so well that we had started to dehumanise other members of our own family. As M was saying this of course it caused more than a little discomfort, like being voted the worlds worst dressed man, it hurts but you know its truth. Also again just like the worst dressed thing you know the solution to the problem is not so much that it is simple to fix nor that it will take so little effort to achieve the fix, but the problem arose because we gave up.

To protect ourselves we said things that had no meaning, we listened with no interest. Worse we passed judgment on others using different standards than those we afford ourselves. Thinking of minimising the damage may have been about protecting ourselves but we forgot that when we did have to share time together it would be harder and more painful because we had forgotten how to even acknowledge each other as humans. All M was saying was that family occasions would be spent with people who at least respected other people, family members would be listened too and disagreed with if necessary but with out resorting to walking out or name calling and or worse. All of these including the worse have been outcomes in my family before now. The change would be brought about just by some common civility and a willingness to use that civility at all times. The implementation of regular contact to pass along information using the civility would at least remind people more often that we are humans not jut tribal members.

Will the change mean that we will turn into a TV family like the Walton's, nope nor will it help fix any of the long term feelings of hurt that members of the family have with each other. It will not fix relationships that are broke and no one wants to fix, although it could open the door to these possibilities, however as M put it that once the old fella dies it will be in all likely hood the last time that we gather as a family. To think it might end in any of the usual ways is pretty bad, what came as more of a surprise though is that no one wanted to think about our own deaths and how they would be not mourned by the family that we have been part of all our lives.

It has been difficult writing this piece as the events and the change in mind set is still a little raw, how it pans out who knows, but M did something that took bravery and nerve. OK it was motivated by self interest but that's not the point, other options were available but she still choose the the most difficult and the one with the least chance of anyone saying thank you. So M thank you. Difficult job pretty well done and something I will not forget.

How to tell the good news from the bad!

2009-06-19T21:52:00.003+01:00

I had my preliminary interview with the community Psychiatric Nurse on Wednesday, and what do you know I am neither mad or bad I am "Bored". This is fantastic news as I was beginning to think that sitting around watching telly, or playing computer games, not to mention hardly ever leaving the house cos I feel crap can all be explained by drawing the conclusion that I am depressed.. I cannot wait to get the prescription from the doctor for a 6000 piece jigsaw, and a copy of cross word puzzler monthly.

But wait just as I am getting this piece of news through my gray matter she then tells me that because I have anxiety attacks, and that I often have thoughts of being dead, that's being dead as opposed to killing myself which is not something I feel I will do, that she is sending me to see the psychiatrist just so that the fully trained head examiner can confirm that I am bored. Now I do not mean to be flippant and I did actually get some things from the appointment to think about that may in time help me, so despite feeling like I have not gained anything from the interview I am at least reassured that boredom is now a medical condition that is treatable and hardly ever fatal.

So then Yesterday I go and see my own g.p., for no other reason than to keep him up to speed with all the appointments that I have had recently, relatively important when I know that the chances of any formal letter from the outpatient clinic that I attended two weeks ago actually being typed and posted before I die of old age were negligible. It may be perverse and sad but the inner glow that I had when I found out that I was right, and no such letter from the consultant had been received was all the justification I needed for assuming that I as the patient should always be the one to break bad news to my doctor. Damn it he is my doctor and so it should be me that tells him that I am in no immanent danger and as a consequence we can look forward to many happy years together.

I also run by him the "boredom" diagnosis, he was sympathetic and offed to let me wash his car as a therapeutic way of getting a free car valeting for himself. I declined and did the standard patient thing which was to ask for better medication. He obliged with hardly a murmur. After handing over the script we got talking about how my anxiety will be feeding off my depression and vice a versa, also that I have most likely always had and always will have a undercurrent of depression that depending on things would either be dormant or active. I said things like "boredom" he said he thought what the boredom thing related too is that I over think things or worry about things too much. This was very reassuring as at that moment I realised he had totally confirmed everything that I had worked out about myself and why I might be depressed, it felt great to be told that I am as clever as I always thought I was.

It then hit me, if all the factors that make me depressed are the ones that I already worked out and take some steps to alleviate, things like trying to live each day as well as I can and not to beat myself up about things that I feel were bad or wrong, then when do I have the time to be bored, and if I am busy trying not to be bored then what the heck is going on. Am I now bored as a default option and even though I can be fully engaged with the cleaning of the house I am actually BORED!

Well after all that I put into practice the age old remedy for both boredom and depression, I went to meet Alan W in the cask & barrel. A jolly time was had helped by several beers, and a wedding party that came in and kept me and Al entertained by singing and dancing most of the night. We left about nine - ish and as a result of the hangover I had this morning I can truly say that I have not been bored once today.

Gonna write something political or activisty tomorrow so you have been warned.

How do you do yours?

2009-06-18T09:40:00.003+01:00

I was looking through the past topics and posts on here and I notice that I am as bad at typing and spelling, as well as using the same size font or the same typeface. Another way of looking at it would be to say that I am as disorganised and chaotic on here as I am in my daily life. Which again is another way of saying that I like most other people have faults and some of those faults define who I am.

People do not come to me and ask me about the best way of completing their latest DIY project, they know that I would be as much help as a chocolate teapot. However people do know what I can help them with and they are always made welcome if they ask for my help. What I am getting at is the idea of difference and that we are all different with skills, habits, faults, likes, and dislikes.

So I will beg your pardon and I will continue to post complete with a range of spelling, grammar, and style mistakes, I would rather call them difference's but that's just me. I know some people get very excited about the rules of both English and etiquette. I would rather though people see this blog as an opportunity to exercise a little tolerance and experience some diversity.

However I will try and make my posts readable so I will endeavor to edit as well as I can, and no for my friends who know better than to ask me about DIY, I am not just being lazy I just do not have the capacity to learn the metric system or get all stressed about spelling and lay out.

Like a lost sheep Lambo wanders back to the fold looking sheepish and wagging his tail

2009-06-17T08:58:00.003+01:00

I stopped blogging so long ago that I have forgotten not just why I stopped but why I even started, I do recollect though that I found the process of writing to be difficult. Now though I am finding not blogging to be just as difficult, plus blogging is something I want to do how weird is that eh!

It would be very sad and something of a miracle if events, life events, world events, and personal events had not taken place in the time since my last post and this one. So no surprises or miracles here, lots of things have happened in each of those areas. So much in fact that I will not even attempt to fill in the past all in one go. It is enough though to say that one of the main reasons for coming back to blogging is the therapeutic element.

I have been assessed as being even more mad and bad than my previous assessment, although in all fairness I knew that already but since I was not supposed to be listening to the voices then I ignored it and continued my downhill slalom between high energy and mental stimulus and the lows of feeling like crap and being unable to put one word along with another. I also still have a disability that I have had since I was born. This continues to delight by finding new and unexpected ways to provide me with evidence that I am still disabled just in case I had forgotten. So as well as new there is old also to talk about.

I want just to say though and it is fair to point out that this is the first rant of the session, that I am not blogging as therapy. Yes I did say earlier that blogging has a therapeutic element, but I do not mean nor will I be surprised to find that after doing this activity for a day, a week, a year even, that I feel no better. The point of the therapy is not to directly help, I could get drugs, or drink, or sex, or any other "quick fix feel better fr an hour or two" solution if what I wanted was a small glow of inner relief. Being clever with words, or ranting on "tinternet"is a therapy in the sense that it gets stuff out of my head. It is then my job to look at this stuff, explore it, discover what I can about myself from it, and then move on. In other words Blogging like any of the talking therapies is only the process, the results are found later possibly years after. Blogging is also a better way f passing the time than ranting at the dogs who only assume the hundreds of words that I mouth at them all mean food. Or sitting watching television for most of the day, broken by short spells of wondering where my life went.

I do want comments and feedback so fire away and keep breaking the silence!

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

2007-10-01T09:44:00.000+01:00

Last time I added anything to my blog I was moaning about feeling depressed, and generally fed up. Then as if some divine all seeing all knowing entity had taking pity on me by intervening to give me back some purpose in my life, I got worse..much worse

Problems with Achilles tendons and knees as well as other ligaments and muscle groups that we tend to use for the purpose of standing and walking, all combined to mean that I have spent the majority of the last two weeks taking high doses of pain relief as well as anti inflammatories.

“Serves ye right ya big moainin bugger” I hear you cry, and yes it does.

Two things of note though came out of this time of enforced stillness. The first is something that I have noticed before but never given much thought too. At times when I am physically unwell, or preoccupied with some physical problem I am not depressed!

Why this is I do not know, it may be that whilst a physical problem is in progress I have something real to focus on, a goal or target to achieve i.e. getting back some mobility as well as problem solving how to achieve simple things like getting out of bed. It might also be that I am actually worrying less or perhaps being less stressed by things that matter a lot less than my mind likes to make them out to be.

The Second thing that happened is that we, yep the royal we as in Claire and I have been called for an interview with a housing association in relation to a particular development that is just about to come on stream.

Our house is not particularly wheelchair friendly, in fact it downright unfriendly. It’s lay out has narrow corridors and tight turns with doorways that are awkwardly placed for manoeuvring a wheelchair. It also has a totally useless space that has the nerve to be called a kitchen but as those that have seen it will readily agree it is more akin to a walk in pantry with a cooker in. This space is too small for my wheelchair to turn in as well as having no more room for one person in at a time.

The house in ramped but as I am unable (increasingly so) to propel my wheelchair up and down the road to shops, or the pub, or even to the nearest bus stop, it means that whilst I am severely restricted physically I depend on Claire for everything inside and outside the house. This is unfair on us both but mainly on her, being chief cook, dog walker, cleaner, gofor, for both of us is bad enough. Adding to that the roles of driver, personal assistant, main bread winner, all add layers of complexity to her life and a source of frustration as well as dependency on to mine.

So a barrier free house will help both of us, my main gain will be the ability to look after more of the personal chores that Claire ends up doing for me. Also the proposed development is close too shops and pubs with the added bonus that it is more or less a flat run to get to them and back again. For Claire some of the benefits should include not having to be my main transport provider irrespective of my physical state, this will mainly be achieved by the purchase out of the funds of from selling this house, of a electric wheelchair, or what will be quickly dubbed the “Prof Pat Pending bus buster.” Those of you who are cartoon buffs or are of a certain age will have pleasure filled memories of Lady Penelope, The Anthill Mob, and the irrepressible Dick Dastardly and Muttly as well as the rest of the wacky racers including Prof Pat Pending. His machine was fitted with all sorts of gadgets and things that allowed it to overcome most obstacles. My machine will be specially bought for it’s rugged good off road performance, and if I have anything to say about it, it will also have a rocket pack, underwater capabilities, built in coffee maker, as well as ejector seat and a device for keeping me sitting up right after consuming several pints.

As you will imagine this invitation to a interview was eagerly accepted and did a lot to help raise our spirits. I will keep you appraised of our progress.

THIS LAST WEEK I HAVE BEEN...........

2007-09-15T10:01:00.000+01:00

I am forcing myself to write this week as I feel pretty much like I want to give up, not just the blog but on life generally. I do not mean that I am contemplating giving up literally, I may be a control freak and a exhibitionist but hanging myself on Bebo, or youtube is not my style. Actually after some reflection a few years ago I decided that suicide is not my style. It is an act of extreme selfishness and causes long term pain and emotional damage to those, (especially the poor sod who finds the corpse) who are left

I guess a better way to start this entry would have been to tell you that I am feeling crap, I have had a crap week, I have years of crap to look foreword to, I know crap all, I have crap to offer, and so on and so forth. Now apart from the over use of the word crap, I would also acknowledge that for some reason my mental health state is borderline between depressed and fed up, and that would explain the piles of crap.

You will know that I am a depression sufferer any way, and sometimes the meds that I take for it either seem not to help at all, or remove me from who I "feel" I truly am. The important part in that sentence is the word "sometimes" because as others will know the meds are not the answer, much more important is the attitude of the depressed person. The meds I take are only meant to take the worst excesses of the mood swings away, the swings still happen but they are meant to be less dramatic, well that's the theory at least.

This week though the meds have hit a solid wall of indifference from within the user. It is true that for the majority of the week I have had some kind of physical thing to contend with, again as some of you will know there is nothing like a bit of pain or just feeling yuck to increase anxiety as well as to generally bring life and plans to a grinding halt. The obvious knock on effect on the mental health needs no further illustration just think bad day got worse. However the added weight of uncertainty about our possible move of house, plus what the hell did I give up my job for?, who the heck is Lambo any way?, why is he such a moany bastard?, and last but not least the traditional but ever popular what am I supposed to do with my life now?, all combining makes for a storm of depression that would equal the highest level of hurricane threat. Not much wonder that the meds go in but like Custer at the little Big Horn meet overwhelming forces.

When these issues all combine together with physical stuff, plus the ever present dissatisfaction with my body, I just would like the world to disappear up it's own backside and leave me alone. Caring about stuff, any stuff is difficult. Communication is probably as monosyllabic as your average teenage boy, and the constant thought in my head is that I am just a waste. I have the mental image of a sponge (Bath not cake) that might be of some use to those who want to know how I am affected. So like the sponge as my mood, or capacity to relate to others goes down, I soak up stuff. Things that Claire tells me or things that I see or hear, then I get to saturation point and nothing else can get in. I see and hear, I walk (Well shuffle or wheel actually) and talk, listen and appear alive, the reality is that I am disconnected and apart from the rest of the world. Yes I care about stuff and no it is not like feeling like no one understands me. I do not cut myself off from others I just find it difficult to connect with others. Emotionally impaired for a temporary period.

"So not a good week eh?" Erm no!

N.B.
Malkie P asked me once if writing this blog was cathartic. I have to say that although I have found doing this entry has lifted me a little, I did not start the blog for this reason. I am not sure that "writing as therapy" is where the answer for me lies. Cognatel behavioural therapy has been recommended for me and that seems like a good way to go as it focuses on how I think about crap.

LAMBO'S WANDERING CORROSPONDENT.

2007-09-03T11:06:00.000+01:00

Good news everyone we have been joined by our very own international affairs reporter!
Rachel Alquorn lately a spinster of this parish has kindly removed herself to Bangalore in India. We offered to pay her council tax but she insisted that the poor and deprived of Bangalore were crying out for her help. We wait to see what amazing acts will be performed by the poor of India after Rachel gets through teaching them Gaelic, we are sure though that the world as we know it will be transformed. Personally and since it is Mela time in Edinburgh I already love Scottish and Indian fusion. Haggis samosa, Bangra and Celtic music fusion, corner shops were you can buy pakora and tattie scones, as well as the Sunday Post and the latest Bollywood DVD all make Scotland the place it is.

If we are lucky Rachel will drop us some thoughts and impressions of her travels, I am told she has already been in search of the Himalayan Yeti, (Very tempted to do a joke that involves her coming back with out the yeti but with something that sounds similar starting with the letter "L".) if she can forgive me for that bad taste joke we may get some regular feedback about her thoughts and impressions of life, culture, and anything else she fancies turning her journalistic eye on.

HERE IS ONE FOR YOU:

2007-08-28T10:43:00.000+01:00

You are a superhero who cannot die (That is your only superhero power.) travelling in a plane that will crash, there are only enough parachutes for half of the number of passengers on board to survive, so choices have to be madE you are given the task of deciding who lives. How would you choose who lived?

Tricky eh, you could use a random number thing like all those with odd or even dates of birth, or those with a certain letter of the alphabet starting their surname. Then again you could go with looks and or personality. Or if you had the time you could ask people to justify being a survivor, if they have important jobs, or responsibilities like children or that they have just discovered the cure for cancer. Then again you could just declare a free for all and let them fight it out letting the ones with the strongest will to live do so.

The only thing that you can be sure of is that 99% of the passengers will want to be a parachute winner. I say 99% as someone might think that they are too old, they to have lived their life and it’s time for them to go. Or some one says that they have a terminal illness so why bother surviving only to die in a few months. That’s both fair and generous; however it is also rooted in self-interest.

One issue bothers you though, the losers die that’s a given and after all they had their chance. What about the survivors though? How did they turn out? What if despite the huge piece of fortune they either live to be unhappy, failed marriages or an addiction of some kind. Or they never make proper use of their chance by taking things or people for granted etc. Or worse still go on to hurt somebody or be a criminal, or a traffic warden, or someone who exploits others. Some part of the responsibility for those peoples misery and either the misery they cause to yet more people, has to come back and rest squarely at your door.

Then there is the anger and the envy that you create and have to be responsible for. The anger of those who died plus their families and loved ones, not just for who or what they lost but maybe for the things that they will never have. Envy from both the relatives of the dead and from within the group of survivors is almost inevitable. They may never have a nice house, or a full stomach. They may never know security and freedom or fulfilment, and you contributed to that.

Perhaps your starting to think you should have never have got on the plane in the first place and not just because your carbon footprint will kill off another few mortals. Life after all is unfair and winners and losers have always been. You may be a superhero but you are not god, any way you did what you thought was right and since somebody would have decided then it was harmless. You are not responsible for what happens because you were doing the right thing.

Obviously this is a “hypothetical” question, but what if today or yesterday you did something very simple, an ordinary every day thing that you and millions of others do. You make winners and losers; you bring lasting happiness to one or two. However you also bring misery and death to hundreds more, all in the simple act of buying a lottery ticket.

2007-08-28T10:27:00.000+01:00

In my first Blog I said I would give a proper introduction to some of the supporting cast members in this musical fantasy that is my life. I do so as a homage to them as they are all a huge influence on me and all deserve to be named and shamed.

No order exits to the list and I include those with minor walk on parts as well as those with larger more significant roles, those that do not get a mention either should feel that they received a lucky escape or that buying a round might help.

CLAIRE.
Claire and I have been married for 20 years and until the day comes that she sees the lawyer or I pop my clogs she will remain the light and heart of my life. We support and look after each other with her doing the majority of the hospital visiting.
If most good men have a good woman behind them, I have to say that a good man somewhere has been searching for their lost woman for over 20 years.

She works part time as an occupational therapist, choosing to look after elderly and delinquent dogs when not doing the same for humans. Recently she has had a run in with irritable bowel syndrome, she is generally better but takes “not complaining” to an art form. Then again she seems to be very similar to other women that I both love and admire in terms of being strong and self contained.

Malkie P
I have known Malkie P for a huge number of years almost an embarrassingly long time. We remain friends probably because at our age any thought of moving on to make new friends seems like more trouble than it’s worth, we are knocking on so we don’t know if time enough exists to start training a new friend.

Malkie was the posh kid who had a “dinning room” as opposed to a kitchen table, he lived in a proper house not a maisonette or a flat, and best of all he had a computer that by today’s standards would hardly power a wrist watch but kept me captivated for hours. If all this sounds like envy then your right I was. However we spent lots of time talking about ourselves and each other, hopes dreams, football, politics, and life. For 2 disabled kids I think some of this was a help in shaping our world view. Sharing laughs and experiences that we still refer to, there is nobody that can talk shite like we do.

Malkie is also one of my heroes for he trail blazed a path despite his physical impairment through further and higher education. This path I was able to use in terms of “seeing” myself do the same as him, and not be confined either by my physical limitations or my own imposed limitations.

I still envy him in some ways, in particular the energy and enthusiasm he puts in to his life. I know though that he envies things that I have in my life so the balance if not even is at least another reason we have to be friends.

Alan W.
I first met Alan W when we both were volunteers at Gorgie Dalry Citizens Advice bureau back in the early 90’s

We share lots of interests, sci fi, music, history, science, computer games, single malt whiskey from Islay, and people. As with the others on this list Alan and I have found ways to support each other through some tricky times, probably by doing no more than just listening or asking questions that need reflection in order to respond to. Honest and with out a political bone in his black jumper Alan and I will be sitting in pubs till time is called for us still debating and laughing being friends.

KORS A.
People often talk about opposites attracting in terms of their life partners in a way this is also true of Kors and I. Like Alan I met Kors through the C.A.B and also like Alan Kors and I have found ourselves at various periods in time offering support and friendship to each other. The support though is often about being a “touchstone” someone who we trust both to listen and empathise, but also to challenge and question in order to fully explore what we are thinking and saying.

I am privileged to know both M and A who make up the rest of Kors’s immediate family, both are Kors’s heart and soul as Claire is with me. He and I share with each other our joy at having these people in our lives as well as the responsibilities that they place upon us. We also share our wonderment and often bewilderment of local, national, and international political events.

Rachel
Rachel and I met whilst we were both engaged in academic research, unfortunately we were the subjects of the research rather than either performing or analysing the experiments.

Possibly as a result of being the two people out of a group of 15 that were on the outer fringes of the “mainstream” we spent the three days of the research chatting and laughing between ourselves and the rest of the group. One of the things that we discovered is our mutual interest in football, this was used against her by me as I quickly got her involved in a literacy project that used football as a focus.

Just thinking about all the different things that she has been involved in that in some way Claire and myself have been part of is quite astounding.
o Trips to Sky
o Seeing her graduate
o The whole punk band thing.
o Photography/eBay/relationships/moving 3 times/ supporting her even when we knew she was wrong (Selling Mars bars was just never going to work)/car sales/ and many more schemes and escapades.

This will be the Rachel who has moved to India, although any expectation that I and Claire can look forward to some peace and quiet will I am certain be misplaced. Or at least we both very much hope so, she has only been gone a week and we are missing her already.

Hazel

Matt

Alison

Should all feel relieved that I have run out of time and energy for this task, but perhaps retain a certain nervousness that I might yet get round to them at a later date.

Hello again.

2007-08-20T10:15:00.000+01:00

So here I am again, you miss me? No I thought not.

I did though miss writing my blog and it came as a wee bit of a surprise I must admit. Although I think I am jumping the gun a bit here as what I should say right off is that I think of this blog as partly conversational and partly as a means to an end.

Lets take the conversational aspect first, well it seems only fair as it was first on the page as it were. As most folk I know will tell you I love talking. Sometimes in order to hear my own voice admittedly, but mostly to exchange ideas, news, views, and most importantly for entertainment. This then is the kind of conversation that this blog will be, I hope that like most conversations it is a two way conversation and more folk will leave messages like Malcy did. "Cheers mate I will get the check in the post"

The other aspect of conversation that is important for myself and you to realise is that there will be pauses, and silences. I wanted to say that, as I have discovered over the last few days yet another way to beat myself up, and believe me for someone who has a physical disability combined with mental health problems, I was convinced that I had more than enough problems and faults to keep me bringing myself down. But no Lambo has to go and invent another one, this time it is guilt for not blogging.

Can you believe it, I have only been at it for less than a week and suddenly I am on a self enforced guilt trip for not sitting here every day hammering away at my keyboard, jeezo I should get out more! Hang on though this rather neatly takes me to explaining why I was "quiet" for a few days.

If we think of cause and effect we could summon up the simple process of pain. We know an awful lot about the causes of pain for example leaving your fingers in the way of a door, or spilling hot liquid on to yourself, or hitting your head off a wall, as most Scotland football and Rugby supporters end up doing. The cause then would be the meeting of two objects like door and hand, or head and wall that do not belong together. The effect is pain!

Now this simple lesson is roughly what caused a wee break for me, I was busy, I overdid things and then I got pain. The pain brought me down emotionally, I was unable to feel good about myself so I did not have the physical and mental energy to blog. How then this translates in to giving myself another reason to reduce my already low self esteem and feelings of worth, is a miracle only explainable by slicing open my brain and having a good poke around inside. As someone who avoids autopsies on the basis that you need to be dead for it not to hurt, yet another cause and effect equation combined with logic skills there. I am for the moment saying to myself and you the great blog public that sitting here looking at this blog every day is not necessary. Coming back is the important part but that can be once or twice a week, that is the kind of commitment I am ready to make and (hopefully) keep.
I wanted to be a blog writer every day but I realise now that just like other things it is the quality not the quantity, and that the discipline of writing needs to be balanced with real world events.

After those stirring words I find I have run out of space and time to talk about the "means to an end" aspect, I will get round to it but now I have given myself permission I may put it off for a few days.

2007-08-14T18:49:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a bit of a down day so I felt unwilling / able to post or blog I am yet not sure of the terminology.

As you will see though I have made up for it by putting on a couple of wee stories. More to follow although by later in the week I hope I will have something of interest to tell you all!

"Pint of beer packet of nuts, and a ambulance please"

2007-08-14T16:29:00.001+01:00

I have adapted this short story from an email I sent to a web forum. It is the every day tale of the type of treatment that disabled people face as they go about their life. I hope it is of some interest.

What I have for you is a true story, an incident that was in no way inspired by any single cogent thought, far less a desire to put right wrongs and to stand up for myself. But let me say very clearly that most of the time when confronted by situations that we find make us feel awkward we make a judgement call on our response. This judgement call may lead to several different outcomes most of which we would never have imagined, none of which though will be the perfect solution to dealing with the situation that we are trying to deal with.

Scene: My local bar, a dingy backwater place, which specialises in catering for the poorer drinkers from the large and notorious housing scheme that is just up the road from me. By cater I mean you can have what drink you like as long as it is of the cheapest and most mass produced variety, the decor match the choice in drinks, kids are banned but find gainful employment as bookies runners. Despite the lack of money they still feel the need to do specials in order to induce the punters to buy more of the cheap stuff, which they are only to happy so to do.

Jukebox blaring out some noise that I can’t hear properly due to the volume being way too high. Whilst on the big screen commentary of a live football game, again with the volume turned way up. Probably in order to drown out the jukebox, not the type of place to expect either one to be turned off in order to facilitate the enjoyment of the remaining media of entertainment. Anyone who would dare to suggest it would be lynched by one half of the bar, whilst the other half egged them on as a show of solidarity.
The lounge in which I am sitting has around 15 to 20 folk either in small groups or like me on their own. It is about 8.30 I have just got there after visiting a friends house. I have had about a third of the first pint that I have bought. I am sitting idly people watching and keeping track of the footie. From the bar in walk two of the regulars and a new guy.

All three have been drinking vodka and coke for the best part of three hours. The two I know are regular blokes, mid 30's, like a laugh, Sun readers, have never given me any particular hassle, but I have heard enough of from them to know that they are not politically correct, or that we would not see eye to eye on very much at all. The third guy though is massive, way over 6ft 5 (I am 5ft 5.) wider than a “B” class road and is perfect for those planning a ram raid but who cant be bothered stealing a JCB. He comes in and his very first action was to point directly at me and make a remark about a guy that they had all known. Big laughs from the three amigos and they sit down. No more than 10 foot away at the next table to me. The remark was not important as it was something to do with an "in" joke so I would not understand the context even if I had heard clearly what they said, which for reasons I have stated I did not.

The intent was clear though and that was it's derogatory nature. A one off, let it pass I'm there for a quite drink, I'm in a good mood and the big fella scares the crap out of me. Big fella though seems to be on a roll, after the three sit down and are distracted by drooling over the girls at the bar, conversation gets back to me. Oh joy! The big fella and one others are sitting opposite me but with their backs towards me, the third is sitting facing me but is hidden by a pillar.

Remarks and comments are traded in loud voices, mostly from the big guy and the one I cannot see. The big guy though is a caring soul who for the benefit of his friends and as a helpful guide to the rest of the bar as to who they are talking about, repeatedly points with his thumb over his shoulder, directly at me. I move so that at least his thumb will be pointing at open space. They drink more I decide to drink less. So what would you do? yep I probably should have done that as well. But I was pissed off. No real reason, ever since I was old enough to understand the spoken word I also had to get used to people saying unpleasant, cruel, and hurtful things about me. Did I say I had a physical disability, well I have and the genes that come with it, thought it would be nice if it was a disability that others could see, just to keep things nice an easy like. I also have mental health problems namely depression somewhat caused by the "extra" hoops that dealing with my disability has put me though.

By now the big fella has been doing his routine for 10 mins pausing only to drink. He has also realised I moved and has moved his chair so that he can start spearing me with his thumb again. Time to act, I decide although in acting I was following my normal pattern of making it up as I go along, rather than following a well rehearsed plan. I go to bar and buy another beer, I then find out what I can about the three all stars, including what they drink. I buy the big man a drink and ask the bar staff to take it to him after I sit down. Why did I do that? Well strange as it may seem I decided that I needed to point out to him that I the butt of his jokes was being a bit selfish and not really enjoying the cabaret. If I had another foot and a half on my height, several pounds lighter and 10 years younger, combined with several years of hard disciplined training in judo I just could of beat the shite out him, reality was though I had to talk to him.

Buying someone a drink has all manner of psychological advantages too many for here, but the one that is most important is that it confuses the hell out of the receiver and makes them uneasy. It worked the drink arrived and he shut up. The three of them went from very loud level to nearly normal conversation level. Instead of the thumb I got strange looks. But he did not come over. O.K. time to create the space for him to approach me in a neutral way. I go to juke box, hay presto he comes over. I love it when a plan comes together! He takes my hand in about three of his fingers and shakes it. He meant this to be a friendly gesture. I may post the pictures of the bruises to the back of my hand. He asked "why the drink?" I said, "You seem as if you think we may have met before" I said this looking at his chest; I looked up in to his eyes and saw that... I was wasting my time.

This guy was way, way, way past being drunk. It would have been more dangerous to even try and explain that what he thought about me, and the things he found funny about me, were absolutely none of my business. Free country, say and think what you like is my view. I would though prefer not to hear it however. so some discretion from him and his mates would be nice, as well as using his thumb lees frequently as I think every one knows they are talking about me by now.

This is what I wanted to say to him. Of course given the opportunity I would have begun to work on changing his views, my disability is actually his social construction of what I am like and can achieve etc. But no point as I have spoken to enough drunks to know a lost cause when I see one, the man could barely slurr never mind reason. Brave huh, or stupid maybe? Standing up for myself, the powerless fronting up to the powerful, and having the guts to lay it on the line. That might sound a bit strong, but their is more to the story.

I had got to the point that I had to say something, I had steeled myself to take action I had got myself to the point of no return, I looked round the two others were sitting there with an empty seat and I though "what the hell" I went over sat straight down and said all that I outlined above no more no less. Took 20 or so seconds, I finished I stood straight back up and went to my seat where I collapsed with fear and nerves. The big guy came back I swallowed half my pint hoping for some pain killing effect. He got up and went to the loo with the guy I could not see. The third guy perhaps the least offensive and certainly the least drunk got up came across and he was very, very, VERY angry. In my face and accusing me of...wait for it listening to his and his friend’s conversation!!

Much worse though and the thing I knew I was really gonna pay for was the bigger crime of showing him up in front of his friends, mates, and people he thought were below him in the food chain. This was the school bully slapping down an upstart; this was the jailer reeking revenge on the prisoner for complaining. This was life: just when you think you have beaten the odds and figured out the hard part the most simple and basic of truths sneaks up and kicks you in the goolies. In this case it was this guys right to look kewl and be thought of as one of the boys, a hard man, a somebody. The way other people saw him was more important to him, than my right to have feelings, or any thoughts that my feelings might be important. They were nothing, I was to accept my silence in silence. He was the king of the jungle and I was fair game.

At this moment I would have put money on getting a sever beating; the guy had thrown off one bar person who was trying to get him to sit and calm down. It was "fkng" this and that, as well as "don't you ever"... kinda stuff, and it was loud, not yelling but I could see folk were looking over at us. I was looking him in the eye an saying over and over again that all he had to do was not let me know he was slagging me off. And then....it was all over. Why, how I do not know. Was it my point of view getting in, or was it the bar manageress coming over, no Idea!

He was apologising for what they said and the fact that I heard it. So on some level my words got in, the ideas hmm not sure on that. Hands were shaken and away he went, I was left feeling sick with fright and also the very real feeling of dismay. I am no activist I do not get in peoples faces I hate confrontation I would not have said a thing if I had worked out that our exchange of feelings would have taken such an ugly turn. That is why I was dismayed, I was also dismayed about my motivation for doing something. I spent time over the past two days telling myself it was the drink, except it wasn’t. Or that it had all gone to plan, but it didn’t mainly as I had no plan.

Best of all I want to believe it did some good, you know the ripples in the pond type thing, planting seeds of ideas etc. Evan if the three amigos never get it I know that there were others there who knew what was going on, perhaps one of the spectators might get it, or at least entertain different ideas on "normality" and inclusion, but again the truth is I will never know. I wait for the "shaft of light" to appear out of the sky and turn all Hearts supporters in to loyal Hibs fans. Or the masses to stop as one in the streets and roads, renounce capitalism and start to give away their excess money, any sign at all that sensible people can take inboard a better way. However these Damascus type conversions are private and take place in peoples heads and hearts long before they act upon them. If I hope for anything it would be that some of the onlookers have started reflecting on their own views about society.

This incident and many others that I have had, show me that we never truly know the full extent of our actions. Making the choice to do or say something may seem to be the positive and "right" thing to do, then again doing the right thing can come with consequences like physical damage. More surprisingly is the possibility that we feel the opposite from how we imagine we will, in other words be prepared for the emotional fall out. It may surprise you that when you think you should be feeling great, master of all you survey. You are actually feeling more frightened and powerless, as well as less sure that you achieved the thing you set out to do.

The upside is that if we knew all the results of all our actions we would live in a dull boorish, sterile life. Worse than that we would choose safety over conviction and dishonesty about ourselves, over being proud of ourselves and who we are. It is a personal thing at the end of the day and I for one would blame no one for doing the opposite of me on that night in the pub.

The Glider Flight

2007-08-14T16:29:00.000+01:00

“The glider flight”

“Ill go last”, “No no, nothing about being nervous at all”.
Or that in the two hours it will take every one else to have their shot, those scattered black clouds over in the west might have either found their resting place directly overhead. Or they may have grown in to a full bloodied storm that Noah would be proud to sail in.

“I’m just not fussed that’s all, and besides go first and you have to hang about for no reason just waiting to go home.” Right!

Aye right!

“Nothing to worry about people go swanning about at 7 thousand feet in aeroplanes all the time”. I am told

Don’t look now but these aeroplanes have a major component missing, the engine.

“What me already gosh how 2 hours can just …er fly.”

I see I sit in the seat nearest the pointy bit at the front; the instructor sits in the seat behind. Strange I say I would have though it would be the other way round.

“Nah” says he
He sits in the back as
“His epileptic fits were frightening to many of his pupils”
He laughed at his own joke. I laughed...no really I did.

Take off he says will be done the old fashioned way as the tow plane will need to be refuelled after 2 hours of taking my fellow students up.

He is explaining that due to the earth’s curvature and the g forces, well what ever he said next was lost on me as the glider suddenly started moving foreword. Slowly then a bit faster and then bloody fast and just as I thought we could go no faster we did not have to.

We were catapulted in to the air; the next ten seconds were taken up with watching the clouds get closer very quickly as well as reassembling all my vital organs in to the correct body cavities from which they had been ejected. There was also the small problem of displacing this elephant that had just sat on my chest.

After that ten seconds though I started to see bits of green and brown and grey enter my field of vision. We were levelling out and the scene was absolutely beautiful. England can have its country gardens and its chocolate box villages. This was rough hewn Scotland with a big craggy hill and lush grass looking as if the man from dulux had just finished painting it. Near distance was the palace at scone. It had a grand but not overbearing presence. I could see for miles and the countryside just seemed to go on and on.

I looked down to my left and saw people on the top of the hill that we were using for our thermal lift. Although this lift seemed to have a random floor selection that would make its choice by either suddenly blasting the glider up another couple of hundred feet, or by an instantaneous drop of about the same distance as we left the thermal. These people were standing about and waving at us as we passed. I waved back, giving the thumbs up sign for good measure. Just then some loon sprang from the group and ran full pelt over the steepest part of the hill. Folk in Fife are strange, I know this to be true from my annual pilgrimage to Burnt Island every summer, however suicide as a spectator sport seemed too abnormal even for Fifers. I need not have worried, as I soon realised he had a parachute on and that he was paragliding using the same thermals as us.

Even with the regular seesaw action I was in my element; watching birds fly bye at eye level was terrific. Going in and out of clouds some were of which were the soft fluffy white variety others were dark and sinister, all however filled me full of both awe and respect for nature and the power of nature. One other thing both entranced and captivated me, the absolute lack of sound. Having no engine meant you could hear the birds as they flew past. The soft swish as the glider entered and left larger clouds, this was an auditory experience that I had never even expected.

The instructor then broke my wonderment by saying
“Right your turn now!”
So here it was the moment of truth could I fly a glider. I said
“what do I do?”
After making sure that I understood my left from my right and that if we were looking at the big blue thing then that was up, whilst conversely the big splodge of green was down, he then said that I was as trained as I needed to be.

I remember nothing about my 10 minuets of actual flying. Apart that is from trying to recreate some moments from my favourite war film such as the “Dam Busters and “The battle of Britain”. I remember nothing of what it was like to fly the thing. I am only assuming of course that I never did bomb the forth road bridge and that all passing German aircraft made it safely to there destination. Although I am sure I might have noticed if I had been involved in either type of incident.

And so that just left the landing. Any instructions I asked my pilot.
“Nope he said.
“So how do we land?”
“Ever here of Isaac Newton” he said.
“Yesss”
“Well that’s basically your answer”
“You mean we fall out of the sky?”
”We do not fall any where laddie we GLIDE”

And that’s what happened; we left the thermal and descended in ever decreasing circles until we were above the landing field where we just ran out of space between the air and the ground.

Not as planned.

2007-08-12T17:33:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a busy and exciting day, but definitely "not as planned"! However that is a good thing as all experiences are positive even though they might hurt or leave you worse off than before they happened initially.

Kors phoned first thing to cancel as he was not feeling 100%, I make these phone calls to him all the time so whilst disappointed that we were not to meet up, I was fully behind his decision to give me the body swerve and go back to bed.

Arranged to pick Matt up and that's when change of plan number two kicked in. Instead of doing the same old Ocean Terminal coffee routine Matt guided the way to a new venue on me, the Drill Hall. As you will see from the website: http://www.outoftheblue.org.uk/webpages/drill_hall.htm
The space it's self is very open and disabled friendly, unfortunately getting in to the venue is less easy as just at the moment the outside of the building is covered in scaffolding that reduced the routes of access to just one. This one route involved cobblestones and a reverse angle slope that meant my front wheels got stuck. When the scaffolding goes it should be better. The disabled toilet was okay nothing great.

It is a very interesting venue run by "Out of The Blue" a local arts and education charitable group who I hope people will support, as they do some good innovative stuff with communities and to support local artists. The Drill Hall is situated in leith and is a listed building, take a look at the plans for it available on the web sight, or better yet go and have yourself a bowl of extremely good home made soup, or the fab free trade hot chocolate. Matt and I had a good long chinwag which ended up with me feeling more energised and more positive, we will be meeting up again after his return from a short European tour to continue our plotting and planning.

We made it back in plenty of time to watch the Scotland V Ireland rugby game on the telly, change of plan number three unfolded it's self in the form of Scotland winning and despite going to sleep in the second half giving the Irish a sniff at a come back, winning in a fairly impressive way.
Not withstanding the transaction that finally saw Rachel's Ford focus depart for Inverness taking place during the game, I thoroughly enjoyed the match as we seem to have a squad at long last that can do more than look good in muddy shorts, providing us with some hope that we will not be totally embarrassed at the upcoming world cup.

The alert amongst you will have spotted that Rachel's car has finally left our attentive care. We shed a tear and waved a fond farewell, before we burts in to a quick chorus of "You take the high road and I'll take the low road", whilst charging back through the house to shout more abuse at the Scots rugby team, happy that we had done our duty.

Well lastly to the events of last night, and the last of the unforeseen changes to the plan. I am somewhat ashamed to say that we let the side down folks, me and Claire arrived a wee bit early and sat nicely with a drink apiece and behaved ourselves. This behaviour continued and I have to report that I was unable to cause any trouble at all mainly as a result of the venue being part of the Sheraton complex but not actually in the Sheraton it's self. The access was good and more than enough circulation room was available so not too bad for wheelchair users. The only fault with the venue was that the disabled toilet whilst being large enough for a wheelchair user and a care giver to be in at the same time, still had the loo right next to the wall and so would have made transferring with assistance problematical. For those reading this can I say that these odd toilet based discussion will be a feature of my blog as I have as a wheelchair user become rather transfixed by the provision of accessible loos.

Looking for ideas on my wee corner plot here, if folks would like to make suggestions then feel free.

Happy Go Lucky

2007-08-10T17:23:00.001+01:00

Well coming up for the weekend and I am looking forward to meeting Kors and his adorable daughter Annie for a coffee or two on Saturday. Matt might also be coming along, perhaps with his equally adorable daughter who's name has just jumped in a taxi and is heading for the airport as I type. It will come back to me, probably as they both walk up to me, which will lead to the embarrassing thing of calling Matt by his daughters name and vice a versa. But that's OK as I am a crip and blame just about everything on that so no problem.

Saturday is a big day as we are waving goodbye to Rachel's car, it's new owners will be driving it to Inverness as soon as they sign the paper work. The how's and who's, as well as the whys of selling Rachel's car are a 4 hour blog in it's self, so it is probably better not to ask and just go with the flow readers.

I will get round to telling you all about these folks shortly so you just need to keep coming back.
"What a little tease I am"

Then to cap it all me and Claire are going out as the poor end of the family to show up the posh end of the family, again! This time though they have decided that if show them up is what we do, then we should have the best settings in town to do it in. So we are going to the Sheraton hotel just of Lothian road. I am sure Fiona and John know what they are doing, or perhaps they are working to a cunning plan that sees me and get huckled out the restaurant whilst they three slip off with out paying. I guess from Fiona's point of view having a mouthy crip brother in law has to pay off at some point.

I am not saying I will be looking to cause trouble, but for a starter I am dressing casual as most of my clothes rub against my wheelchair, (Cos I am too fat since you ask!) so I can see us getting stopped as I am "Not properly dressed". My plan A: is to offer to get naked and say that they cannot complain as I am not dressed at all now so nothing improper about my dress. Or at an attempt at an even older joke I will ask them if I can borrow a little black number. (Black number = dress - I will be DRESSed get it. Suit yourselves)

If we get in and the seating or the place is not chair friendly I cannot imagine I will be able to not say anything, I will chuck around acronyms like the D.D.A. and the D.R.C, B.B.C, M.M.O, and lastly TTFN. Having confused everyone including myself I will then go and inspect the disabled toilet. Now this is the Sheraton so if the disabled loo does not have it's own attendant who will buff my nails whilst I pee I am going to be hacked off. If the loo is not big enough to hold a rugby 7's game in I am going to be hacked off. It better not have the toilet either too close to a wall or too close to the hand drier, or I will be hacked off. And that's before we even get to the food.

What I really want though is for one of the waiters to be carrying a tray of drinks and then for his foot to catch one of my footplates that I will probably need to remove in order to get close to the table.
"Cleaning bills and free drinks all round landlord"

Actually that sounds like so much fun I might have to make sure we get in....."Any one got a black tie I can borrow?"

"A ship named dignity"

2007-08-10T17:23:00.000+01:00

I have a friend lets call him Jim, since that is what everyone else calls him. Jim has over the past few years been a constant source of inspiration to me and a few others as well. I know he has had this effect on others as I find myself talking about Jim with other friends of us both almost every time we chat.

He is an older person who mainly speaks quietly and sometimes has a tendency to ramble on what could be called obscure points. He holds views some of which I cannot pretend to share, and some that I won't lie and say that I understand. He is passionate about his views and eloquent in expressing them. He never though gets on a soapbox in order to convert people to his own view, nor does he argue to win. He respects my right to differ and allows me to do so politely and with Patience. He has a good sense of humour and attempts to take life as something to be enjoyed.

Now we all know folk like Jim right? People that remind us of the qualities and virtues that we so desperately wish we possessed in stronger measure ourselves. I see in many of my friends qualities that I wish I could display, unlike some others my friends are folk who I have either collected on my journey, or who have collected me. I have only one friend who goes way back to my childhood days, I think this is significant as I have a notion that somehow the term friends has become misunderstood.

For me friends are people who in some way add or give something to our experience of our own life, and we do the same for them. A commitment to spend time, to share ideas and thoughts, to be honest to the point of inflicting pain with each other are part of the "friends" package. The knowledge that these people can make us happy if we are sad, or help guide us through the our problems and fears in a bid to understand our unhappiness is also a strong indication of what friends mean to each other. Notions of trust and respect are never spoken of because they have been built up over time, and are implicit in our understanding of each other.

That is my way of telling the difference between friends and mates, or fellow gang members, or drinking buddies etc. In my view being there for some one, or people that you "hang with" might as well be other terms for strangers. One last thing however is on my list of attributes of a friend, and once again I turn to Jim to help me explain it.

Jim has a disability, he needs personal care, he needs social and mental interaction. He needs a companion and a carer. Up until recently he had all that, the physical act of caring and the emotional and intellectual support provided by the one person. This person had a full life of there own but it was seldom that Jim would go anywhere or do anything with out his companion. The cliche that they were inseparable fits, but in this context the notion that both shared their experiences freely and with no thought of personal gain is true. They shared in each others lives for more than 10 years.

Last Christmas Jim and his companion were involved in a car crash that killed his companion and left Jim severely injured. Jim spoke up as soon as he could and said that he was probably to blame for the accident.
Just take a second to look back at the last paragraph and asses for yourself exactly what the impact on Jim has been.
Jim survived his injuries although no one ever fully recovers from such an accident. He has fought to get a level of personal care put in place, he has got back behind the wheel of a car, he has begun to put his life back together. Yet even that is not what I am drawing attention to in this article. I am sure mostly every one can say that they know people who have had some very rough times and that they admire those who come through such times.

Jim has given me and all those that know him the gift of seeing someone trying to get to grips with his emotional loss and his personal struggle. Others and I unashamedly say that I would be one of them, would have been unable to cope and chosen to die rather than make the attempt to come to terms with the changes in my life. I am just not strong enough to withstand that kind of emotional and physical pain, and I doubt if I would be able to think about the organisational nightmare of getting a care package. I am not saying he has done this on his own he has had support from others, but he is the one who on a daily basis gets out of bed having made the decision that life goes on.

Nor can I tell you that I would have the ability to do what I have witnessed Jim do, confront past memories and current raw emotions by deliberately subjecting himself to them. He goes to the places and does the things that remind him of his past, he sits in shopping malls crying, or in mid sentence he will start to weep, he forces himself out of the house to deliberately confront his past and his future. Not one bit of this is about self pity although I would forgive Jim that, instead it is about self healing and finding ways to come to peace. It is also done with dignity, difficult to imagine someone in a wheelchair crying in a busy shopping mall with dignity, but then Jim does not do exhibitionism. If a stranger did see and were to approach he would not push them away, but neither would he be looking to unload his feelings on someone who did not have the time or the interest in really talking to him. Jim through his pursuit of his dignity, not just in his physical care but also in an attempt to restore his self respect and self esteem manages to instill in me the knowledge that the soul and the heart can be healed if you want it to be. Jim we your friends love you and care for you, and I thank you!

Courage

2007-08-09T14:12:00.000+01:00

I am inspired by courage, by people who quietly go about their day to day lives in a straightforward and dignified manner, or do some brave thing and then wish only for life to return to normal. A good example would be the guys who helped out during the Glasgow airport attack. They themselves did not seek to make anything of their actions nor did they look for any kind of reward or benefit from doing what they did. It was the media who once having identified them, pushed the guys further and further in to the limelight, it seems that our media need not just a bad guy to demonise but also a good guy, preferably two or more to turn in to heroes and examples of what us Brits are supposed to do in the face of attack by Johnny foreigner. Even though the same media tell us time and again how "scared" people are of going out at night, and talking to strangers lest we be attacked and robbed or worse.

Courage also seems to be something that you can loose or have withdrawn from you by a process of trial by media. The McCann family live in a perpetual state of either being the most courageous and dedicated of parents, to being thought of as those responsible directly or indirectly for Maddies loss. For the McCanns this constant judging by others must be as big a strain as trying to find their daughter. Never knowing if people are looking at you with respect, pity, scorn, or worse of all hatred. I cannot help but notice the similar attitude that the media and society generally have to any person who is seen as different. Race, sexuality, disability, gender, perhaps most pointedly those with mental health issues find themselves judged either to be a courageous person fighting against impossible odds, or damned as the impossible odds won.
Or the notion that people like the disabled have to be grateful for charity and must be seen as courageous because they "overcome" or look cute on sticks. However when the truth is put forward by disabled people, that it is the lack of willingness of society in general to see and acknowledge it's complicity in creating of disabled people, that's when attitudes seem to change. The cute 9 year old girl in pigtails and leg braces, who is a "child of courage" because she has found that moaning about her pain does not help her, will just as swiftly be tomorrows benefit scrounging, workshy, single mother in a council house, tabloid headline believed by enough of the rest of society to make it the truth.

I suffer from anxiety, I sometimes have panic attacks during which I try sometimes successfully to control my anxiety in order to finish what I am doing. One technique I have developed is to ask myself what I would feel like if I was in a truly scary place, instead of in a meeting, or talking to someone in a coffee shop. The scene that I place myself in most often, is in a trench in France on the morning of the first of June 1916, somewhere near the Somme river about 9.30 in the morning.
Since 7.30 wave after wave of men have gone over the top and been mown down. Thousands lie dead and dying only yards in front of the trench. All around me men are gathering for their turn to go over the top, hardly any one thinks twice about what they are about to do. They know that escaping with a "blighty" wound will be the best that they can hope for, and yet they line up, smile, tell ghoulish jokes, and promise to see their mates on the other side. If I were there would I be so calm? In this way I calm myself with shame I have to acknowledge that those men had the right to be scared, probably were but did what they had to do any way. Me all I have to worry about is some newspaper editor deciding if I deserve to be a hero or a villain, I know if I was ever subject to that changeable wind of fortune that I would still regard the trench option as being much more scary.

Things that save you time.

2007-08-08T18:27:00.000+01:00

Washing machines
Telephones
Having an article printed in Today's Scotsman newspaper that tells you dear reader as much of my background as you need to know.http://thescotsman.scotsman.com/education.cfm?id=1240462007

It has saved me a huge amount of time, dead handy things these journalists!

Baa, Baa, Blah

2007-08-07T06:17:00.000+01:00

The first entry on a brand new blog, it occurs to me that this is a very auspicious occasion similar to a wedding perhaps. The first post is like the wedding night in the sense that you get a good idea what the future will hold by the success or lack of it, of those first few hours in a newly forged identity.

Well this is a new identity for me and these first few moments of my new life are full of nerves and anxiety, more so than on my own wedding night but I guess I am stone cold sober on this occasion. The reason I am nervous, apart from the lack of strong drink is that I am very aware that with the millions of blogs to be found on this here interweb, I have nothing to say or no way of saying what little I have to say, that is either new, or different, or any more insightful than any of the other blogger.

"So why bother"

"Good question, bad answer"

"Because I can and want to and I have the time"

So why should you return to this blog?

I hope in the lifetime of this blog, those who look in will find something of interest, or amusement, or something that makes their blood pump faster and either through rage or excitement join in discussion with me here, or in their "real" world lives.

My interests are varied and so are my thoughts and how deeply I express them.

I am political with both sizes of P, but in general think that Political parties take the pee. I am a democratic fan of people doing what they are told. I believe in free will and self determination, but think the free market economy has turned us all in to selfish drones.

Mainly though I am writing it for both the challenge and the people that I hope to meet on the journey. Speaking of people I am aware that I have said little about myself in terms of personal details, you will find out all you need to know and probably loads that you feel should be kept private as topics and moods take me.

I will try and master the techno gibberish to add links and stuff but I draw the line at photos and videos, however don't let me stop you if you have stuff that you think fits the blog.

The large cast of characters who play parts large and small in the musical that makes up my life will be introduced to you again as and when I get round to them.

Yep I kinda knew this was gonna turn out long and dense, stick with me though as I learn to blog and write shorter pieces. Or better yet come back and tell me things that I already know but from your point of view.