Back when I worked in radio advertising, we spent a huge part of our day playing competitive Hearts on the office computers. It's a four player game so we rotated who was playing - sometimes the sales team would join us too, but there was always enough people for a game, multiple games, throughout the day. Everyone who played had a nickname. There was Stretch and Stig, Hammer and Rabbit, Herbie and Smudge... and Marvin.
Guess who was Marvin?
Life... don't talk to me about life!
(Marvin made a single once. It was a double B side. Nobody liked it much, but then, they wouldn't, would they?)
Anyway, last week, you may recall, we established that I am paranoid, just like Marvin. Hopefully it's just common or garden paranoia, not one of the fancy kinds that needs specialist treatment, but frankly I've lived with it all my life, and I'm getting a wee bit sick of it. So is there anything I can do?
Mind, as always, has some useful advice to offer...
1. Keep A Diary
Well, I do that, don't I? It's this blog. People ask why I spend so long writing these posts... well, there's your answer. And it does help. Particularly the Self Help For Cynics series. Since I started that, I have been able to understand and cope with the things going on in my head much better than I was doing before.
Once again, we're back to arguing with the voice in our head. We've talked about this a number of times previously, particularly in the post on Defusion. As soon as we start questioning negative thoughts, it allows us to see them for what they are: just thoughts. Which are really just neurons sparking and chemicals washing around in our noggins. They're not real.
Here's a sampling of the questions Mind suggests we consider...
Would other people think my suspicions are realistic?
Have I talked to other people about my worries?
Is it possible I have exaggerated the threat?
Is there any evidence for my suspicions that can't be questioned?
Are my worries based on events that could be viewed in different ways?
Are my worries based on my feelings rather than definite evidence?
Is it likely that I would be singled out above everyone else?
Is there any evidence against my beliefs?
Do I still feel suspicious even though other people have reassured me that there is no reason to be?
It might feel like you're interrogating yourself if you run through all those... but then, what is an interrogation if not a gradual chipping away at an individual version of events in order to establish the truth?
Once again, isn't this why we blog? Well, it's another of the reasons I'm sat here doing this on a Sunday night. However, there is a part of me - the PARANOID part - that worries these posts might be interpreted as the work of a crass attention-seeker. I suppose when you write a blog, you are an attention-seeker, because you want people to read it... and comment occasionally. But whenever I receive a kind or supportive comment as a result of writing a post like this, it does make me feel guilty.
I mean, really Rol, you can't win, can you? People are trying to make you feel better - and they actually make you feel worse! Well, maybe not worse. I do appreciate the positive affirmation... it means a lot. But there's still that intrusive voice saying, "What a cry baby! Are you really so weak an insecure that you need to beg people to say nice things to you? Emotionally blackmail them into doing so? You oughta be ashamed of yourself...!"
I do better than a lot of people in this regard. But there's no such thing as "enough sleep" when you have a job, a child and a house...
ii) Think about your diet.
Not as much as some people do, but I've cut down on sugar and I'm eating more nuts, fruit and beetroot...
iii) Try to keep active.
Not as much as I'd like to, but I'm getting out walking two or three times a week at the moment... and I've taken to running up the stairs at work, to get my heart rate elevated.
He's gotta a woman he's loved for a long long time at home
Ah but the thrill is all gone
When they cut down the lights
They've got a business that they spent a while coming by
Been a long uphill climb
But now the profits are high
But today he's forty years old going on twenty
And he hears of sordid affairs and he ain't had any
And the young thing beside him
You know she understands
That he's middle aged crazy
Trying to prove he still can
Where do I begin?
Would I ever want to own a Porsche or any other expensive, high-powered automobile?
No. I'm not interested in driving faster than everybody else on the road or in collecting the associated speeding tickets. I don't want to become a target for car thieves or boyracers who fancy a challenge. And I've never liked the idea of drawing attention to myself. See also personalised registration plates.
Am I about to start dressing ostentatiously in clothes that are far too young for me?
No. Although I will continue to buy T-shirts with obscure movie, TV and music references on them that will only be understood by about 1% of the people I meet. Despite what Mark Radcliffe believes, that men over a certain age should only wear plain T-shirts. That's just dull, Mark. Maybe I'll even get one of these, to celebrate the detente...
As to the idea of chasing after younger women... besides the fact that Louise would kill me, after chopping up various parts of my anatomy for dog food... I'm sorry, why would I want to be with someone who constantly reminded me of how old and knackered I am? At least when you're with someone your own age, you can be old and knackered together.
Let's close with a song that perfectly encapsulates the dangers of succumbing to the MMLC, from a band many of you won't like because they're funny. Humour plus music? How dare they? The debut album from Wolves of Glendale is out now...
Looking through old Truprint envelopes the other day, I came across two snapshots of my sister's geese. She had these two about 35 years ago, and they were vicious brutes. Worse than any guard dogs - in fact, all the dogs would steer well clear of them. Especially when they put their heads down, as in the photo above... that meant they were going in for the attack.
Sometimes I'd be given the job of herding them back into their hut on a night time, which is probably when I took these photos. They would go, if you stood your ground, but it was best to go armed with a stick for defense in case they turned on you. They liked a good ruck.
They weren't the worst geese I ever encountered though. There were a couple on a neighbouring farm that were even more savage. One day, I went with my dad to fetch a couple of cows back from a field he'd been renting near that farm. Dad gave me the job of leading a particularly flighty young calf back with a rope round its neck to stop it running away. I was basically walking the calf like a dog on a lead. Until we passed the open farmyard where the diabolical geese lived. They came out charging, hissing, wings up, terrifying the little calf, which set off at full pelt down the lane... dragging me behind it like a stuntman in a Western. When the calf finally stopped, I was covered in cuts and grazes... but at least the geese hadn't got me.
On the first day of the summer holidays, Sam and one of his school friends were building a den in some bushes next to the local playing field while their two dads chatted in the sunshine. Suddenly the boys ran screaming from the bushes, chased by wasps. Both were stung repeatedly. For the rest of the summer, Sam has gone full Tasmanian Devil at the first sign of a wasp... which has been something of a pain while on holiday, because there are more wasps than ever this year. "Britain" is "under attack from 'drunk' German wasps that 'go nuts' and sting for no reason," says The Daily Star, so it must be true. Always nice for a national newspaper to find a way to stir up racist sentiment even in a story about wasps. Stan Boardman would be proud.
Wherever they came from, there's no doubt that the wasps are in abundance right now, and they're out for blood. I was stung myself last week while visiting a nature reserve. First wasp sting in 45 years: on holiday as a young boy, I picked up a fallen apple from in an orchard and took a bite... only to find a wasp hiding inside...
Wasps often get bad press, though scientists argue they bring important ecological benefits. But frankly, I've grown bloody sick of being surrounded by them whenever I open my sandwiches this summer. Buzz, quite literally, off!
Here's a member of the Partridge Family. Yesterday, we had Steve Coogan, aka Alan Partridge. I couldn't find a song with Partridge in the title, which almost derailed this quiz. And then I settled on the perfect solution...
12. Alias Harry & Jones.
Harry Lillis "Bing" Crosby Jr. and David Robert Jones.
Check out the new video above, starring Mark Hammill, John Hamm and Weird Al Yankovich, among others. A lot of money was spent on it. I have no idea why.
(That wasn't actually a picture of Prince. But it was a Prince Christmas tree bauble. You can buy them on eBay. Or you might prefer to save your money.)
Two turtle doves...
1. Number One.
And because I couldn't find a song with a partridge in the title, I settled instead for this gentleman.
Andy Partridge.
Andy Partridge in a pear tree.
Here's a seasonal song from the man in question.
And, to close, the very best version of The Twelve Days of Christmas, from Father Jack himself, Frank Kelly...
I have a lot of time for Taylor Swift, but it's fair to say that when she stepped away from her country roots a few years back to become one of the biggest pop stars in the world, I wished her well and said bon voyage. She's made some great pop songs since then - arguably some of the best of her generation - but as I'm way beyond that generation, I felt like I couldn't really be a part of her crowd anymore.
Last year, she surprised everyone by hooking up with Bon Iver and members of The National (among others) to release two "back to her roots" albums of stripped back country storytelling, Folklore and Evermore. I'm not going to add much to the swathes of column inches devoted to those records other than to say I like them.
