Goodbye from The Scribbler!

Having blogged here once in the last six months, it seems like a strange time to say it, but I wouldn't want to end the Scribbler without saying a big goodbye from me!

I kept The Scribbler going for nearly two years, as I got used to living in London - when I started writing, I'd been in town for just a few months and I was stuck doing a very boring office job - thus the blog became a way of occupying some dull time!

Since then, I've changed jobs four times (from deaf TV to mainstream, back to deaf TV then once more to mainstream, and finally back to deaf TV again..!), tried to start a t-shirt website (but failed) started writing scripts (which went a lot better, just made my first film) and moved from the centre of the town (Euston), to a little bit further out (Barons Court), to quite a long way out..! (Twickenham!)

The blog remains as a diary of that time in my life, a nice reminder with pictures and a lot of taking the michael out of what I was up to at the time, and some of the people I spent that time with.

Reading it back, I can also now remember a whole load of other things that were happening to me at that time, which I never put on the page! That's blogging for you.

I agonised over whether I should keep writing it, but eventually you can only keep something going for so long. It'll be a shame not to record my life in quite the same way, but things change... sob! What I am doing is printing out a pristine copy of the blog to keep on a bookshelf at home - to browse through in paper form.

I should really put a final Scribble on here, but I'll leave you with this photo (above) of me with the cast of 'Four Deaf Yorkshiremen' just a month ago, when we made a nice little 12 minute film in good old sign language. Below is the trailer for the film... enjoy it!

And that's goodbye, and thanks, from me. Cheers.

Scribbler Vid - Tears, Prayers and Misses... penalties in a Nottingham back garden

My father the hero...

One of my earliest memories is of my parents taking me to the mayor's office in Nottingham, where my Mum, Dad, Brother and I saw Dad step forward to recieve a shiny medal. Or a certificate or something. I was too young at the time to remember. Anyway, we were at the big council building, and that's all you need to know to set the scene.

The why? Let me tell ya...

A few months before, Dad had been cycling home of an evening and was just crossing a bridge, when he noticed a woman dressed in white (no, she wasn't a ghost) standing next to the banks of the River Trent.

Continuing to cycle, he happened to look back, only to see she'd disappeared. In the water he saw a flash of white and instinctively, stopped and ran off the bridge and dived into the freezing cold, fast flowing current. (whatever happened to his hearing aids? I'll have to ask him and find out.)

Anyway, fighting the current, he found her and managed to drag her out.

Later, sadly, we found out it was a suicide attempt, but the lady seemed glad that my Dad had saved her, and wrote him a letter thanking him for it.

Why do I mention it now? Well, today at work someone happened to see the picture in a book and brought it over to my desk - I got the shock of my life..! Dad never, ever mentions it so I'd almost forgot it ever happened.

My Dad really is Superman.

Lifesnaps # 71 - Early Evening Trafalgar

Just can't be bothered to write...

Laziness... procrastination.

It's so easy to get used to. You don't have to do anything. That's the beauty of it. Just sit back, look at the computer screen, and wonder where the last few hours of your life went...

After a few months of mad scriptwriting antics, everything seems to have slown riiiighhht down. I feel really very relaxed indeed, too relaxed.

Which is probably why I'm also neglecting to post anything on this blog, either. I'll start posting again soon, promise. Probably.

Not sure when... but sometime soon.

I guess.

After another nap.

My acting debut! As a mean call centre debt collecting bod... in this week's Watchdog!

It's not every day a man gets to show his face to 6 million people… and it's not every day that you're shown as a mean debt collector, screaming abuse down the phone.

Yes, dear reader, I was a Watchdog extra, and here's the photo that proves it.

Somehow, repetitively putting on a pair of headphones and mouthing abusive words for two hours in a dark room in White City isn't as glamorous as it later seems, edited and voice-overed to within an inch of it's life, with swish music and flashy graphics…

But it worked out well in the end.

I was thinking about an old quote. Andy Warhol said, "in the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes," and how right he was.

Thus I added up my screen time, and it came to around 22 seconds. So, added on to my brief appearance on See Hear in September, VEE-TV two years ago (an awful signed review of 'The Producers') and childhood appearances on Fan TC and Take Two (don't even ask, I'll never mention it again) I reckon I've got about 10 minutes and 17 seconds to go.

Hopefully that screen time will show me scoring an amazing goal in the last minute of the FA cup final, romancing Isabella Rossellini, or appearing on This is your Life, reunited with old school pals to celebrate an amazing life of achievement and riches.

More likely, though, it'll be falling flat on my face on a grainy You've Been Framed clip.

Jive talkin'

I don't know quite was was going on here, either... all I can say is that it was the work Christmas bash, everyone was merry, and i was wearing what are probably women's sunglasses... don't read too much into that, will you?

Twas a grand night... including a ride on the dodgems, copious amounts of champagne, an underlit dancefloor and even the chance to play a bit of Blackjack without losing any cash, only my self-respect..!

Winter... it's finally arrived

2006... the year review... in photographs...

Some things only come round once a year... birthdays, christmas, and the chance to buy a new calendar. You know how it hangs.

So it's good once in a while to review everything that went before. At least as far back as the last time you bought a new calendar.

With that in mind, Zhao, Tom, Phil, George (by proxy) and myself reviewed 2006 in a Polish Cafe called Patio, in Shepherds Bush. We drank vodka, and ate Bigos. In fact, to be, er, different, we all ordered exactly the same stuff. Including a black cofee at the end of it all.

What was said? Well, it's all embargoed until 2017, I'll have you know. So all you have left is the photographs, and a random catchphrase...

Zhao...



"After I get finish my masters, get married and spend 6 months off work travelling in India, I might start thinking about the meaning of life."

Tom...



"What happened in 2006? I bought a house, in which I can do just what I like. Such as watching too much Seinfeld and walking around without any clothes on."

Phil...



"I have nothing to say on the matter. Any matter."

The Scribbler...



"In 2006 I moved flat, changed jobs twice, tried to sell scribbled t-shirts (and failed), got two scripts performed and learned how to guide people who can't see or hear around the metrop. I'm now feeling really rather tipsy."

George...

(George wrote to us, rather than flying back from down under for the once-a-year event.)

Tally ho chaps! I just got engaged! It's jolly sunny here, I'll have you know! Cheerio!

(we then asked George questions and amused ourselves by giving false, totally fictionalised answers.)

Pieces 2

Pieces

Trent glistening...

Lifesnaps 70 - desk work

Lifesnaps # 69 - rural lancashire, last day of 2006

Home cinema...

For one month, and one month only, a neat projector was mine all mine...

I watched Koyaanisqatsi, Police Squad, The Godfather and a little bit of Annie Hall too...

Then Mum came and took it back again. Gutted.

Still, at least she knows what I want for Christmas now.

The Scribbler dons red hat and openly invites ridicule...

Do your worst... I think it looks rather stylish.

The Family Express (1990) and the beginning of the Scribbler

This is the first issue of the 'Family Express,' which was my attempt to start a small newspaper when I was nine years old...

...no joke.

The small town I lived in, Chipping Norton, had it's own local monthly newspaper and I remember spending several happy months at Primary school doing a media studies project. Then my imagination kicked into overdrive...

I called it the Family Express because a) it was mostly about my family (ahhh) and b) my family read the Daily Express an awful lot (bows head)

Having thought of a name, I appropriated an old typewriter (this was in the days before desktop publishing) and got a 20p advance from a handful of neighbours (who seemed really encouraging at the time, even if they were probably disappointed that all the news was about, well, my extended family) and my Dad promised to photocopy it all at work (for a print run of ten copies. Which sold out, BTW).

I drew cartoons, reported on the birth of my cousin, rambled on about David Platt and Nottingham Forest and Dan Dare...

I even broke a few copyright laws by inserting comic strips from real newspapers like the Gambols. The village police turned a blind eye to it though... phew.

Then I sent the first copies off to my nearest and dearest. Having decided on a 20p cover price, I doubled my pocket money (or sweet money, for that was how it was spent) in the process.

I still remember how being the editor of my own small newspaper seemed so magical... it was the first (and last) time I've ever experienced real power, I think.

Then, after several months of fun, I suddenly realised the pressure was getting to me, I think. I suddenly decided to stop rembling on and instead abruptly returned to fun childish things like running around aimlessly, riding my bike and ultimately, grazing my knees an awful lot.

PS. Thanks to my Grandma for sorting through all her stuff and sending my old memories to me, much appreciated.

Lifesnaps # 68 - xmas party!

Random Scribble # 31

Whoopin' Picadilly

The perfect place to 'flop'

Lifesnaps # 67 - A Room With A View

Lifesnaps # 66 - London Town

Lifesnaps # 65 - trains... again

Save the deaf dog... although it might be too late. *sobs*

Deaf Dog perched on ledge... a story to make even the most hard-nosed Scribbler weep...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/devon/6203920.stm

Busy weekend ahead...

I'll be sleeping on the lounge floor again tonight… by virtue of my being a good honourable son who'd give up his bed and luxury room for the people who gave him his very existence on this planet, for one night only.

Since Mum and Dad gave me food, lodging and very sound advice for 18 years (plus Christmas holidays) when you think about it, it’s the least I can do. So I shouldn't grumble.

Well, can't help grumbling just a little bit. Sod that I am..!

Nah, can't wait. They're in town and they're coming to the theatre tomorrow. Grand!

It's been a busy week. I had my first director's credit on telly last Saturday, while my short play gets performed tomorrow (after a morning of rehearsal) and I've also got a short film being made (apparently!) of a script I wrote two years ago..! Can you believe it? No?

But really, it's kinda happening. How? Don't know.

I keep walking up in the morning and wondering where this joy will ever end… and whether I was just dreaming it all along… give me a big slap on the face if you see me, to check (not too hard tho, I have a sensitive disposition)

This all means that for one week only, I can impress people in bars by calling myself a 'scriptwriter and director,' darling. Yay! Less of the darling, tho... not a thesbian yet.

The joys will probably last up until Christmas, then I'll be back slogging away again.

Don’t mind that, either.

Lifesnaps # 64 - Christmas is on the way

Lifesnaps # 63 - headphones

Lifesnaps # 62 - mind the step when boarding..!

lifesnaps # 61 - Covent Garden Opera

Lifesnaps # 60 - more travel writing

Lifesnaps # 59 - Children in Need 2006

And the play is cast... just two days before rehearsals begin. Phew!

The whole process began weeks ago. Three weeks in fact.

I've been turned down left right and centre by a whole generation of actresses... (what's new?!) but finally I struck gold.

I've got four ladies of talent who are going to be attempting to make sense of my random words and waffled prose on a London theatre stage.

Rehearsals start Sunday... can't wait. I'm directing... I don't even know what I'm going to do, but hopefully it'll all come out in the wash.

Wish me luck, comrades.

Lifesnaps # 58 doing the good ol' ironing

I can't even get ironing right. Well, not at first, at least.

I got confused about why the iron wasn't working, even when I turned it up, until I realised that although I'd plugged it in, the plug wasn't turned on...

Still, all's well that ends well. After a few weeks of avoiding the ironing and wearing anything that looks half-neat in my wardrobe (and there ain't much of that) I finally got down to it last night.

There's a strange sense of satisfaction that comes with clearing a whole load of creased clothes. It's even better when your cheeks go slightly pink from the rising stream. You get a healthy glow to go with that self-satisfied grin.