In a parallel universe

I used to write about music, film, arts and fashion. Seriously. I was the editor of a fashion magazine in Australia (sic) for six months. I fell into business journalism by necessity for a job, rather than a calculated career diversion. But I've always essentially been a sociologist. What I do is basically tell stories about people, the links they make with other people and why they do what they do.

Back in the day - in Perth, Western Australia, where I peddled the music and fashion thing - the pop star interviews were tightly controlled by PRs and were often pretty flimsy. The Proclaimers flounced out of my phone interview because the previous hack offended them. One band wore their shades indoors, but I had turned up to interview them still drunk from the night before and it was a bit of a fiasco. Ben Elton was lovely. I could go on. I do sometimes wonder what may have happened if I'd thrown myself into music journalism instead, but not with any regrets.

Yesterday, for reasons far too complicated to explain, I interviewed a lad called Phil Etheridge from Birmingham indie band The Twang. He was good fun. He was very passionate, knew his music, but was a bit angry and introduced me to a new word I'd never heard before, which wasn't even in Urban Dictionary (though it might be now, ahem). The context was "slagged it off". (I've since heard Danny Dyer and Nick Love use the same phrase on the DVD track of violent vigilante flick, Outlaw).

I enjoyed our conversation, appreciated his honesty (and swearing) and got a decent piece out of it, mainly about Birmingham. Anyway, I had barely had time to listen to 4 tracks by the time we spoke. I read the press release for the tour, did a ten minute Google search and asked the anoraks in the office about them. I have to say I liked his music and reckon they would be a good live band. They've been compared to the Happy Mondays (which I can't see at all) but they are melodic and doff a bit of a cap to The Streets, Cast, Shed Seven and early Charlatans (showing my age here). But I've now filed a two page spread based on nothing at all really.

But much as I enjoyed the nostalgic novelty of dabbling in music journalism after all this time, there was a sadness about it. And a relief it's not a world I inhabit. For a start the interview was a nightmare to sort out. Once I'd got his mobile number it only took three calls to get through. But Phil only answered the phone because he was lost and thought I was someone who could direct him to the dressing room at the venue in Derby. There are different PR people for different parts of their lives - tour, CD, local, national and Phil had no recollection of being told I was ringing him. But, to be fair, he was great value.

He was sore about "some cock end of a journalist" which revealed that rather seedy and virulent nastiness in music journalism. In business you tend to pick your targets: scoundrels and crooks. In music and film there is such a jealous back channel going on. So much building up and over hype, then a massive backlash of spite. Phil is feeling this now. I'm not qualified after one listen to dismiss this man's album or praise it. It may catch on, I may add it to my pile of "never quite got into that" music (The Coral, Beth Orton, Saint Etienne). But what I could never do is put my name to a hastily cobbled together review that utterly dismisses the efforts of these lads - over a year or more - to record an album, play it in front of appreciative festival audiences and then to go on tour. I think I made the correct career turn in 1989.

Some autumn links to things I've liked

Best customer complaint ever.

Most prolific swearing ever, DVD commentary on Outlaw (not child friendly)

Mark Garner is looking forward to Tory Party conference next week.

Some nostalgic Hacienda artwork.

A very good recipe for Greek-style roast chicken.

We've put up some Respect barriers at our junior football matches, for our derby matches we're thinking of ordering these from Poland.

How did I miss this. Kevin Cummins photo exhibition at Richard Goodhall Gallery. Pay attention.

Thoughtful piece on the myth of the debt mountain by Michael Luger of Manchester Business School.

More outrageous stories from Roger Cashman and friends.

Feeling sorry for yourself? Snap out of it. It could be worse. You could have had a week like Nigel Hughes has had.

New feature - My mate... #1 Mike Finnigan

I've been thinking of introducing a new feature on here that randomly shuffles my address book and I write something about someone I know, how we met, what they do, what I like about them, etc. My pal Mike Finnigan has asked me to write something for his new book - Impossible to Inevitable. So, I'm including it here as the first in a series.

I first met Mike Finnigan at the Reebok Stadium at the conclusion to a thrilling Lancashire derby between Bolton Wanderers and Blackburn Rovers, my team. It was August 2003. At the time Mike was working for Sam Allardyce and Bolton Wanderers. Our emotions at that first meet could not have been more different. I was elated as my team had equalized in the last minute of the game after looking dead and buried at half time with the scores at 2-0 to the Whites.

He had a lot to say about the game, about the belief of the team and what it was that led to a seemingly unassailable lead being lost. I was struck then by his charisma and positivity. Since then we have helped each other out.

I’ll give you one example. At late notice I asked him to come and join me at an Insider breakfast event on leadership in Lancashire. It was a hard event to get people out of bed for at the crack of dawn. One speaker didn’t even turn up. But it was and is a really important issue. People running businesses need to be aware of their responsibilities, of their mission and how absolutely bloody brilliant it is to have that ability to turn someone’s day from a good one to great one.

Finn was the star attraction. He energized the room. He didn’t literally grab people by the lapels and tell them to smile, shout, scream and laugh, but he might as well have done.

One of the other panel members, a really good guy called Clive Memmott, came out of himself that day. He was running Business Link in Preston at the time and must have had one of those jobs where you can either be sucked under the quicksand with the politics or bureaucracy, or you come out fighting. I saw Clive fight that day. I truly believe Finn showed him a glimpse of what he could be if he knew he couldn’t possibly fail.

And me? I’m a cynical journalist by background. Looking at the matrix of organizational roles that Finn first showed me I’ve probably been a terrorist in the past. I’ve also worked with people who are energy sappers. I won’t have it any more. You have that one opportunity to make your mark. Whoever you are and whatever you do, you matter and people around you will react to how you are. When I’m old and grey and look back on these fantastic years at Insider, I’ll rightly be pleased with a few different articles, the odd witty headline and some crazy design on a front cover like our smiley face in February 2009 when everyone was ready to throw themselves off one of the tall (and empty) buildings in Manchester city centre.

But the one aspect of the job that brings me the most pride is the development of the people I’ve been lucky enough to work with. Seeing them bloom sometimes brings a lump to my throat. They’ve done it all themselves because they are keen to get on. But we all help each other out and have that environment of self improvement, positivity and risk taking. If you ask them, they might have a different take on it all, but I know what I’ve seen. It is so important to recognize that no-one sets out to have a crap day and be rubbish. Some people might not be up to the standards we set, and they’ll be happier somewhere else.

And I’m dead serious about this as well. Mike Finnigan taught me the value of positive thinking and the infectious nature of positive people. My wife Rachel is one, she has lifted my life and filled me with joy. My children have that zeal. When they are not, it is because they are hungry, or tired.

Mike Finnigan is endlessly entertaining to be around. When he left his last business to set up i2i he said he “just wanted to be great around people”. What a job! What a statement. What a guy. You can be great around me anytime.

Rose Hill - an explanation

Good news. The graffitti at Rose Hill has been painted out. There is also a poster up - link to it here - explaining that the ticket office is closed "due to refurbishments" but the end date is vague.

Wet face

A very strange thing happened to me today. I spend a good chunk of every month wandering around with crap hair and a dirty car, wondering when I will ever get time to sort either. Today I had both a haircut and then pulled in on the A6 in Levenshulme for a car wash. The lad took my order and I gave him £10 for a £3 job. While he was, supposedly, getting my change I left my window down. His mate then started the job, squirting the wheels and the back window. Not realising I still had my window down he squirted me full in the face with industrial strength detergent.

He didn't speak English and I realised it was a mistake, but his boss seemed mortified. I'm sure by the time I'd gone they were all cackling to each other in Albanian at the specky bloke who they squirted.

However, it made my hair spike much better than the "product" the barber slapped on earlier.

Rose Hill Marple - all very quiet

Tony the station master hasn't been in attendance at Rose Hill this week. The guard on the train on Monday thought he must have been off on holiday. A punter said he thought there are ongoing refurbishments. I haven't been able to find anything official.

Not much information here.

Or here.

Unrelated, there is THE MOST offensive graffiti on the wall facing the car park. Obviously the nature of the intended offence reveals that the culprit is a spiteful scrote, however, the grammar and poor graphics also show this to be the work of a total and utter cretin. Strangely, this took the edge off the offence.

Cretin, what a great word.

The trouble with Diouf

In a perfect world we support football players who we would like to like. Sympathetic media profiles are designed to increase our affection for them. Certain aspects of their on-field character give clues to their overall personalities, which give further support to our affections for the players we are asked to like in an entirely different dimension. Take Blackburn Rovers captain Ryan Nelsen. He's a family man who the other players laugh at because he doesn't wear flash clothes or drive a Hummer or a Bentley. On the field he is brave, honest and very committed.

Then there's El Hadji Diouf, a pantomime villain with an image so ludicrous it's almost impossible to exaggerate his actions and outrages. A caption under a picture of him in the Daily Star this week read: "DIOUF hated." Certain of our supporters like his fist pumping and his ability to wind opposition fans up. Bolton fans had a song celebrating his spitting. He's also a "wife beater," who swears offensively in this prank call and has his ludicrous gansta look and likes flash motors.
Football wise, his performances have been patchy. His corners are rubbish, but his unpredictability can unsettle opponents and turn nothing into something.

Now, according that imperious source of news, the News of the World, Nelsen and Diouf had a scrap after our digraceful performance at Everton last week. Proper windmills and everything. That's after he lies about racist abuse and bananas thrown at him by Everton fans (as if they'd ever do that), he supposedly swears at a ballboy, then has a fist fight with the team captain, a man above criticism (though probably at fault for one of the goals).

If you start to pick apart each one of these incidents the interpretation of them serves the same charicature. It's a witch hunt, feeding a frenzy of loathing for him. There's more to this than meets the eye.

A gem of a paperback

This is a book for every football fan, anyone interested in the business of football and anyone who likes stories of the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. The stuff about Owen Coyle is very good, he's clearly one of life's genuine good guys. And Brendan Flood too is honest about how the credit crunch did for his property empire.

Here's a link to an extract from the book in Insider.

And here you can buy it on Amazon.

On not drinking

I'm still not drinking. I haven't missed it at all, though tonight we're going out for dinner and then up to the Romper for a bop along to A Few Good Men. It's this kind of Saturday where I'd usually have a bit of a bender and get slotted. At the Y Factor event on Thursday a few people asked me if i'd lost weight and that I was looking well. A few also asked if I "needed a beer" to get up and compere an event like that. The truth is, I really didn't. I needed a couple of Red Bulls to keep sharp, because I'd been working on Wednesday night as well, but I'm feeling great at the moment and really enjoying life. However, I realise I am at risk of becoming a pious bore about this so will keep quiet now.

Y Factor 2009 - a great success

I was involved in the Y Factor last night, where Manchester professionals perform in front of a band to great acclaim and with the purpose of raising money for Mencap, a charity that helps people with learning difficulties.

Here are some pictures of me with Justin Moorhouse, one of the judges, and Charlotte Porter from Mencap; and one of me with Jennifer John, a vocal coach and one of our judges on the night. In the middle is a cardboard cutout of Terry Christian, last year's man, who had to let us down the day before and so wasn't there.

There's a link here to coverage on my work website, which will tell you that the girl band from Cobbetts solicitors won.

I've included these pictures here, on my site, because a certain website has airbrushed all mention of my involvement in the event and used all pictures of the event, except these two, because I'm on them. Nice eh?

Thoughts on getting a drubbing at Everton

Just back from Everton. Great day out with friends, rubbish game from a Blackburn Rovers point of view.

My random cliches. I've just watched Sam Allardyce moaning about our lack of strength. No, sorry, that wasn't the problem. Our lack of positivity is though, and who gives that to the players, Sam?

Diouf is a waste of space in games like this; lazy and a liability. Why wasn't Lars Jacobsen playing? Salgado made me jittery and was way off the pace. Eamon Andrews was found wanting again. Dunn dived, got found out and then when he was fouled he got nothing. Silly. Anything good to say? Paul Robinson made some world class saves which saved us from an utterly embarrassing scoreline.

What not to wear

I'm off to Everton today to see Rovers. I'm a guest of an Evertonian diehard in some posh seats, which has meant I have had to devote some time to wondering what to wear. I don't think I've ever been as uncomfortable in a football stadium as when I've gone suited and booted and then had to sit amongst normal people who aren't. So the new "smart casual" rules in the so-called executive lounges at football matches create all manner of tricky etiquette dilemmas.

Jeans are acceptable apparently, trainers aren't. Do you then wear a work shirt? Or a polo? A jacket? Or just a coat? Then there's the weather, it's bright now, but could be freezing in Scouse land.

Twenty five years ago, I used to REALLY think about what I was going to wear to football. Pringle jumper, Lois cords, Lacoste shirt, Clarks desert boots, suede jacket... And do you know what, I've more or less just pulled that look out today (with tweaks). Amen.

Good parents

The Marple taxi service was in busy mode yesterday. We had to get two boys to a cross country running competition in Stockport, one boy to his football match in Manchester and another to a swimming lesson in Romiley. Blissfully, one other football match was postponed and a request to "guest" for the B team was regretfully declined. It was just fantastic to see them all being active - and supporting each other - in social activities.

Lunch was "on the run" I whizzed into Marple to take in as much of the food and drink festival as possible and grab a few bits before we drove up to Earby (almost Yorkshire) for a family tea.

Here's a picture of Ian Wolfendale, his fiancee Andrea and Joy Able judging the 2009 pie competition. The "professional" winner was a awesome sounding steak, mushroom and Old Tom from the Royal Oak pub at Strines.

Bad parent

I can't believe I've neglected the Marple Leaf for a full week. The shame of it. I feel like a bad parent, which is strange, because this last week I really have been a rotten parent and husband. I must have worked a 60 hour week, involving early starts and late nights. I can't pretend I don't enjoy it, but it takes a toll. And in the midst of it all I've been working on my "book" project (which I have not talked about on here out of fear of cursing it) and doing my bit to help Marple Athletic Junior Football Club.

The long and the short of it - thoughts on Rovers v Wolves

OK, Blackburn Rovers have now won a league game. And, let's be honest, Wolves were pretty poor. I had grave fears when I saw that the West Ham line up of Jason Roberts as a lone striker, with David Dunn in a free role - a 4-2-2-1-1 - was repeated. The main difference was El Hadj Diouf. I have never been a fan of the spitter, but on Saturday he was disruptive and got forward with some ambition.

It's also true that Paul Robinson seems to be JR's main provider of long balls, that Pedersen is taking these long throws and that Samba charges up for corners, but they don't work. The most effective football comes from playing it on the deck and harrassing the opponents. David Dunn was superb again yesterday, he holds it up well and is prepared to take players on. Other bright spots were Brett Emerton's late but lively appearance, Michel Salgado coming on to calls of "Are you Tugay in disguise" and a decent performance from our Paul Ince-imported midfield of Eamon Andrews and Vince Grella. They did their jobs yesterday and passed much better.

Also, you won't have read this in any papers, or seen a clip on Sky or Match of the Day, but a keep-ball series of 30 passes showed the quality the team is capable of. It also lifted the mood of the fans who only seem to be singing about Burnley at the moment.

Interesting to read chairman John Williams in the programme - still nothing doing on the takeover front and that money is very tight.

So, season ticket tally time. Yesterday would have cost me £29 and £7 each for the two lads who came, even though we had a spare - must get better organised - so £43, plus £2 in booking fees. So, we've shaved £95 off so far. Bargain.

Come to Marple - the home of food

It's the Marple Food and Drink Festival this week. There are loads of events throughout the week. The big day is next Saturday, where stalls will be offering different local food along Market Street.

The Samuel Oldknow Pie Competition will also be taking place. There is a prize for the best pie from a bakery, or professional kitchen, and a seperate domestic award. Last year, a pork and fruit pie from Grenaby Farm, a bakery on Market Street created a piece of rare beauty. Sadly I have relinquished my judging role this year in deference to the superior pie pallett of my good friend Ian Wolfendale.

I've kept this low key, but it has now been 4 weeks since I had an alcoholic drink. I feel so much better and haven't had any cravings at all. In that time I've been to football, corporate rugby, a pub quiz and I've been OK with abstaining. I haven't missed it at all. I had also developed some expensive tastes for Amarone, so I don't feel as light of pocket either.

But food, and the appreciation of its subtleties, is possibly something one appreciates with age and wisdom. We are rather blessed here with traditional shops run by people with passions for good produce. My cheese tastes are now influenced by the helpful young man in All Things Nice deli. I can't kick this habit at all and a Carr's Water biscuit smothered with Shropshire Blue is a taste to behold.

The lads at Whites butchers are full of good ideas too. Some of them the kids even appreciate.

I am lucky to like food and not to have bloated in my sedentary early middle age. I bow to the sheer will power exercised by one of my friends round these parts. He has given up booze and is also on a major crash diet. He's lost 3 stone, looks amazing for it and is on course to to lose another 2. I couldn't do it.

Browned off

I was a tad underwhelmed by Derren Brown's explanation of how he predicted the lottery numbers. I suspect the 24 people crunching the numbers were a red herring and the whole "wisdom of crowds" explanation was a cover. It was interesting what he didn't show as he put the balls in the container. He left so much open to interpretation that he actually didn't explain anything at all. That, I suppose, is the art of the magician.

Hooked by Derren Brown

I am very much looking forward to finding out how Derren Brown supposedly predicted the National Lottery numbers last night. I think he is the most compelling and fascinating entertainer working today. We saw him live a couple years ago and were hooked. And you have to say, the teaser last night, for the follow up on Friday has been brilliant marketing. Acres of media coverage today, like here.

Turning Japanese

Someone is trying to post a comment on one of my blog posts about Rugby League. In Japanese.

It says: 度チェッカーで隠された性癖をチェック！外見では分からない男女のSM指数をチェックして相性のいい相手を見つけ、SMプレイしてみよう！合コンや飲み会で盛り上がること間違いなしのおもしろツールをみんなとやってみよう

Which, thanks to Babel Fish, translates as: "Checking the natural disposition which is hidden with the degree of SM checker! With appearance checking the SM exponent of the man and woman who does not understand, you will find the partner whose affinity is good, SM will try playing! Combination [kon] and rising in the drinking meeting you are not wrong everyone it will try doing the tool funny".

My reply is this: ほとんどの感謝を表するスパムの発信者は出ていく

Some early September bookmarks from my blogroll

Sometimes I feel like a genuine schizophrenic. I have these different interests, these different friends, these different corners of the internet where I find occasional stimulation (not that kind). Here are some links and bookmarks, pretty much based on the constants that I link from and include on the blogroll.

David Hepworth, publisher of the The Word (a magazine, a website, a podcast, a way of life), has a blog where he talks about the kinds of things he doesn't talk about at The Word. Here he is at his observant best talking about professional accents.

Another man with an astonishingly wide hinterland is Kevin Roberts, Lancaster-born advertising guru, rugby nut and a real inspiration. He's also just been back to blighty to see Manchester City and to visit one of his four homes - Auckland, New York, St Tropez, Grasmere. What a life.

Another City fan currently squinting at the glare from another false dawn is Laura Wolfe, who has been at this blogging lark for two years (on and off, eh Laura) but her family insights and world view are always refreshingly honest.

As is the scarily clever Norman Geras. He is very good this week on why the BBC has to invite the BNP onto Question Time, but also on why the Labour Party has to stand up to them. He's right. These people are numpties, they have been allowed to go unchallenged in places the Labour Party have stopped going.

It's the kind of debate one can get more of on Harry's Place, a politics website, where most posts tend to harrass the hypocritical left. But there's so much more, such as this great piece on The Housemartins.

If you like the link at the end to Paul Heaton's Mille Miglia and even vaguely know what I'm on about, then this quite brilliant website, CasCo, will be of interest to you. It has some of the best presentation I've seen on a website, and is a fantastic nostalgia trip into music, film, football and fashion. And all from an SK postcode too.

Nigel Hughes at Ear I Am once landed an interview with Paul Heaton, back in the day. Nige has also just lent me a superb book, 45 by Bill Drummond. Must return it. Nigel's blog is great. Always full of insights and surprises. There's a terrfic account here of his trip to Penrith FC for a tour.

If you want more obsessive traipsing around obscure football grounds, try 100 Football Grounds, latest entry includes tales of a recent trip to Rochdale. Sounds like a mad day.

Can't Kidd a Kid

Manchester City have appointed Brian Kidd as technical development manager of the club's academy. The worst manager in the history of Blackburn Rovers will be responsible for preparing youngsters for the disappointment that comes with realising you'll never, ever get into the first team ahead of an expensive foreigner, then being farmed out on loan to Stockport County.

Hat tip: The Guardian Fiver

Little boots

I wasn't the only proud and nostalgic Dad in JJB Sports today looking for a pair of suitable football boots for one of my lads. But what I hoped would be a happy Dad n' Lad experience turned into a dreadful traipse around the moral maze.

Having found no size 2 boots at all in the Adidas factory shop at Pear Mill in Stockport, JJB was our obvious next port of call.

All the choices at JJB are branded - no problem with that, and he's just grown out of a pair of classic black Adidas. In fact, here are the choices.

As he's 10 I have to confer some decision making to him. But, as a responsible parent I had a list of minimum demands - moulded studs, not screw in, and a budget limit. And of course they must fit and be comfortable.

I would *prefer* him to wear plain black boots. The aberration of showbiz footballers wearing white and silver and yellow is a curse of our age. But, that is my prejudice.

We've never had issues before over label chasing, and it is only with boots and trainers that there appears to be any kind of peer pressure. And frankly, given my own predilication for classic old school Adidas wheels I have no right to any real estate on the moral high ground.

So, there was an Umbro boot - good enough for John Terry and Michael Owen, I said - at about £15. But it was synthetic. The average price of a normal and perfectly adequate pair of leather football ones is - ahem - about £25.

He wanted some blue Adidas F50 I TUNiT, as worn by Lionel Messi. They are bright blue and the adult ones cost £124, according the the JJB website. The young lad in the shop told us they don't have them in kids sizes, which was a relief, because it cut off that line of enquiry. Subsequent research has confirmed this. But no, apparently two lads in the team have them. "Just like Messi, Dad." We then had a ridiculous stand off. Eventually we came away with a pair of black Adidas. There's a greivance lingering, but I won't budge. If someone has paid £70, or £124 for kids boots then they are mad. But I suspect boasting.

Sporting tensions

Following last week's deathly boring bore draw at Ewood Park I did the worst possible thing last night. I went to see a bit of egg chasing, seeing Sale Sharks beat Leicester Tigers in a cracking game at Edgeley Park. It was everything that the football wasn't. Passionate, tight, action-packed and full of nail biting tension at the end.

This England

Here's Rachel with Alan Titchmarsh at Chatsworth Country Fair yesterday. I wasn't there, boo. But what a nice fellah he was, with a proper manly handshake, according to FiL Eamon Curran. Chatsworth is one of those brilliant country events and Alan, as I think I have earned the right to call him, given his new found friendship with my family, is the president.

It represents another England from the urban concerns that usually occupy our thoughts through the year, even in leafy Marple.

He talks about the magic of country fairs in his column in Gardeners World in the August edition and warns that many are dying. The weather doesn't help, but the Royal Show has called it a day and as Al said to our Rachel: "It would be criminal if other shows went the same way."

On The Road by Frank Skinner

Easy to read, easy to like. Frank Skinner's account of his move back to doing stand up comedy is astonishingly frank (scuse the pun). He's also speaks very well about his Catholic faith and his volatile personal relationships with his other half. Another appreciative review here. 8/10

Enter the Dragon by Theo Paphitis

I enjoyed this book. Witty and self deprecating, but surprisingly good on common sense business advice. Having met him recently and got it signed, I think he's alright and kinder than his Dragon's Den persona. Obviously pleased with himself, but he's done it the hard way. Very good chapters on Millwall and the funding gap in football.
7/10.

Paintball's Coming Home (Alt Version) Half Man Half Biscuit

I'm sure there's a new version of this that sums up the fact that we get all our kids singing along to this fantastic tune in the car.

"They get their kids to sing ironic pop
"They get their kids to sing ironic pop
"They get their kids to sing ironic pop
"In the people carrier"

However, as they go to Catholic schools one can only imagine the horror on the teacher's face if they contributed such a line to the original song.

Bore all at Ewood today

The match today was dull stuff and deserves to be last on Match of the Day tonight. It was summed up by one key moment. David Dunn gets the ball on the half line, bursts forward, looks up and sees only Jason Roberts ahead of him closely guarded by West Ham defenders James Collins and Matthew Upson. Pedersen was ambling in the general direction. Vince Grella was probably digging a trench he was so embedded in a defensive position and Eamon Andrews was striding up in no great hurry. Chimbonda, who looked good all day, was tied to a piece of elastic preventing him crossing the half way line. Even with Dunny on the ball the manager's instructions seemed to be "8 behind the ball at all costs". The game plan today was simple: don't lose. Grim, but effective. Or just grim?

I'm still monitoring our football spending. It cost us £29 today for an extra ticket for Rachel, but because we had 4 season tickets, it would have cost £50. The total cost of our season tickets was £404. We missed the City match, so we've still got £354 to go to get our value. To complicate matters, we also have access to a lounge before the game which is pretty good.

West Ham throwback

Rovers are playing West Ham today and we're looking forward to a trip to Ewood. Given the events at West Ham's last match some of the kids saw the footage on Sky News and were a little worried.

And wasn't it strange to see tattooed 50-something men on the pitch in a crazed and nostalgic waddle down memory lane? And is it ever so hypocritical of Sky News to be showing an advert for The Firm during the same news - about the self same West Ham hooligans in their heyday? Hypocritical, or a masterstroke of media planning?

Ten thoughts on Oasis splitting up

* The first two Oasis albums were blisteringly good. They captured a time and had an incredible energy, the concerts in this country were the closest experience I'd had to what The Jam created from 1978-1982.

* For me, one of their best songs is on their rotten third album, All Around The World on Be Here Now.

* They never moved on. You could play each subsequent album to a man from planet Zarg and they'd never place them in evolutionary order. Oasis were discussed this week in the context of the new Arctic Monkeys album. This is different said a critic, better this than just trotting out the same old stuff, like Oasis.

* I saw Oasis at their blistering best in 1996 in San Francisco. Back then I thought Noel would ditch his simian brother and do bigger and better things with his pals like Paul Weller and Ocean Colour Scene. What took you so long? That said Echo Round the Sun on Weller's 22 Dreams is the worst track - and Noel's on it.

* That whole row with Blur was idiotic, probably rooted in a desire to endlessly punch Alex James in the face, which is understandable. I supported them, bizarrely, in the same way I instinctively supported Blackburn Rovers, Labour and England for Euro 96. But you have to say Blur have played the better hand over the years.

* I think they've turned their backs on Manchester, which is a shame. Mick Hucknall's millions are invested in the city. Where are the Gallagher's?

* You could imagine sitting down and having a drink with Noel and rather enjoying it. Not so with Liam.

* It's bad form to walk out with gigs planned. Noel says he can't work with Liam any longer, well, he's always been a knob so why let all those people down now?

* Very pleased for my graphic designer Darren Gillibrand. He was there at V Festival, the last ever UK show.

* I can't imagine any of them recording anything of any critical significance ever again.

Some more best jokes ever

It's a pretty bold statement to say a joke is the best ever. And so I'm slightly suspicious when TV channel Dave has awarded the best joke at Edinburgh this year.

It's this from Dan Antopolski : "Hedgehogs. Why can't they just share the hedge?"

The last best joke I'd heard in ages, from Jason Manford (on Twitter), is this:

"How does every racist joke start? With a look over the shoulder."

Thanks to Ted Robbins, here's the best comedians' joke ever:

Two comedians meet up at Edinburgh. "How have you been?" asks one.

"Great," replies the other, "haven't you heard? I was doing some work in New York, got on the Letterman show as warm up, got on a Broadway Show."

"No," says the other, "I never heard about that."

"Yes, then my agent got me in the new Ben Stiller film. It was a raging success. I won an Oscar, now I'm doing a new film with Simon Pegg."

"Oh," says the other, "I never heard that."

"And to warm up some new material I did a couple of pub gigs at the Frog and Bucket in Manchester, but I died on my arse if I'm honest."

"Ah," says the other, "I heard about that."

The Junior Officers' Reading Club - by Patrick Hennessey - a review

I first heard extracts from The Junior Officer's Reading Club by Patrick Hennessey on Radio 4's Midweek and it was compelling and urgent. His exchanges with David Hepworth on The Word Podcast was one of the best radio interviews I'd heard in ages. It was all a revealing enough tale of a young man's rites of passage through Sandhurst, and at first I enjoyed it. By the time he got to Afghanistan, it dragged on a bit. It seems harsh to reduce (edit) this young man's tale, as it takes something away from the sacrifice of his fallen comrades, but he seems to have aspirations to write more and he needs to learn. Anyway, here's a review here that says pretty much what I think.
7/10.

Double perils at Rose Hill Marple

The commute home on the 18:06 from Manchester Piccadilly to Rose Hill Marple is a very pleasant experience at the moment; today there was plenty of room to sit and gaze out of the window while listening to my chosen medley of The Chords, Secret Affair and The Purple Hearts.

By the time the train screeches up the sharp rise from Marple junction and along the cutting towards Rose Hill, I noticed the embankment full of pretty pink and white flowers atop a towering bushy plant, but with blood red triffid like stems. Aaaaggghh. The dreaded Japanese Knotweed. This invasive and evil weed was imported in the 1880s as an ornamental plant and gets everywhere, it can cause havoc with gardens and is almost impossible to get rid of. Railtrack are part of an alliance to tackle this nuisance, here, and we wish them every success.

Walking home from Rose Hill station, I hang a sharp left along the Middlewood Way, the path of the old railway line, and emerging on Wood Lane by the entrance to the rugby club. That route should be lovely, but it is littered with dog shit. And horse shit. Dog owners carry bags with them and seem to have embraced the law that says they should clean it up. Some clearly do not.

It's one of my unreasonable prejudices that horse owners are self righteous middle class prats who feel morally superior to anyone who doesn't make way for their fetishistic animal indulgence. This is reinforced when I see their crap that litters the Middlewood Way. Horses just seem to do great piles of it wherever they can. I'm sorry, but that is just as disgusting. It might not stink the same as dog mess, but as far as I'm concerned there's no difference. Shit is shit.

On the wagon

After a great holiday, and the subsequent shock of having to get back into the commuting and working, I thought I'd lay off the grog. I'm not a heavy drinker. I don't get pissed very often, but like a lot of people of my generation we've taken to having wine about the house. I've started to discover favourites as well, usually strong Italian reds or a potent New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

My pal Erikka Askeland gave up alcohol for a commendable 40 days a few years back and wrote a very entertaining blog about it. Her abstinence was all the more remarkable for the fact she lives in Scotland.

I'm not going to do a confessional theme on this blog, but we are going to see if we can cut it right back. Last night we thought we might fall off the wagon as we had friends coming over. Apart from a welcome glass of Cava, the wine was left untouched. Mornings have been strange. I feel groggy but rested. I've also combined it with walking a lot more as I'm "between cars". So, just thought it's worth putting a marker down. No big deal.

This is how it feels to be Everton

An Evertonian of my acquaintance was in a philosophical mood on Tuesday as he reflected on Saturday's 6-1 home lashing by Arsenal.

It felt strangely comforting, he said. "You know when you're in a marriage and everyone else on the outside sees the relationship as perfect. It puts pressure on you, because you know all is falling apart. You eventually reach that point where you admit to yourselves that this is over. Saturday felt like that. David Moyes is not a good manager. The squad is weak. Now everyone can see that, and we can do something about it."

The stages of a midlife crisis

I bade farewell to my midlife crisis car today, my Audi A4 convertible. No more whizzing round with the top down, pleading with kids to get inside a bin liner before they can have a lift home from football. No more lying awake at night thinking someone's going to kick the front door in and demand the keys at knifepoint. It's been fun, but now it's time for a sensible runabout. More later, but this is a brief lament.

What we did on our holidays

When the sun shines in Cornwall, then all is well with a domestic holiday. And ours was special this year. But the perverse thing about a British break comes on those wet drizzly days when the estate cars with roof boxes tear up and down the A30 and the A39 in search of relief and fun.

Blissfully we had few such washouts this year. When we did we found the Lost Gardens of Heligan, a fairground museum called Dingles, Launceston Castle, Tintagel and Land's End. The first was amazing. Really. A great day out, and it's got a brilliant farm shop. More on the second later. In the latter two, there were shops full of tat and grass slopes. Our kids love a grass slope. There were also grass slopes at Launceston and Dingles.

Land's End is an absolute toilet. In fact, it's worse than that, because one of the grimmest things about it were the public latrines. We had our picture taken at that sign for £9 - but it hasn't arrived yet - showing how far Marple was. We went to the Doctor Who exhibition which cost the thick end of £20. The whole experience was grubby. The punters, a large number of whom were smokers with kids in Bristol City shirts, all looked glum. Here are some more reviews, here.

Dingles had a collection of old fashioned fairground attractions in a barn and to be honest I feared a repeat of rip-off tat. I couldn't have been more wrong. A lovely place, run by enthusiastic volunteers and space to run around. It gave us a nostalgia kick and the kids the freedom to enjoy the dodgems and a wild merry-go-round without being terrorised by teenagers.

It sounds like this is drifting into a bit of a moan, which this wasn't meant to be, we had a bloody brilliant holiday. We've already booked to go back next year to Fentrigan Manor Farm, which was just perfect for us. We were talking to the owner Richard Grigg and he's got loads of ideas to keep improving the farm and make it better.

The common twine that links all these positive experiences, and excludes the negatives, was the attitude and intent of the people behind them. A bit of pride, a bit of passion. And hopefully a bit of success from other people's fun.

Football predictions 2009/2010

It's become a tradition on this blog to predict the Premier League places and some other issues around the other leagues. Last season was a total wipeout. Here's what I reckon this time.

1 Chelsea
2 Liverpool
3 Manchester United
4 Manchester City
5 Tottenham
6 Arsenal
7 Aston Villa
8 Everton
9 Sunderland
10 Fulham
11 ROVERS
12 Wigan
13 Stoke
14 Bolton
15 West Ham
16 Portsmouth
17 Burnley
18 Wolves
19 Hull
20 Birmingham

League Cup: Manchester United reserves
FA Cup: Liverpool
Champions League: Real Madrid
Scotland: Do you know what? I couldn't care less.

Nothing particularly controversial there. I think from Rovers downwards it's all going to be pretty grim stuff. Gary Megson will be the first manager to get sacked. I think we'll lose at Turf Moor but win at Ewood.

Elsewhere, West Brom to win Championship, Ipswich and Derby to come up with them. Newcastle nowhere. Blackpool to go down, PNE comfortable mid table.

Huddersfield and Charlton to go up. Dirty Leeds stay down. Stockport County to go down.

Notts County on the way up with Shrewsbury and Rotherham. Morecambe in the play offs. Sad farewell to Accy Stanley.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

After dipping in and out of various autobiographies, long magazine articles and bits of newspaper, sitting down in one sitting to devour this book was a massive shock. A gripping apocalyptic tale, focused on just two characters - a father and a son - but covering an enormous range of profound questions: good and evil; unquestioning love; our environmental stewardship of earth; and the existence of God. A truly amazing and mesmerising book. 10/10

Gone fishing

It must be 33 years since I last went fishing. But the old magic (and the old ineptitude) was still there this afternoon as we messed around in the fields and lakes around Fentrigan Manor Farm. You should have seen the one that got away - a carp - it was THIS BIG. And we had such a lovely day as a family, away from other people and the demands from our children for ice cream. Very chilled out.

Slavery in Marple

After the rant, here, about Griff Rhys Jones comes another history programme of a comedian on a journey, this time it's "Who do you think you are?" which my observant FiL, Eamon Curran, tells me was about David Mitchell, the comedian.

"His ancestor Rev John Forbes Of Sleat, Isle of Skye was instumental in rescuing young girls from the Walmsley woolen mills in MARPLE and a Dr Hibbert certified the death of one girl who died of typhus. Check out www.ambaile.org.uk lots of information."

Will watch it later and comment further.

Pull!

Try anything once, within reason. Here's me having a go at clay pigeon shooting in Cornwall. What a lot of fun this is. I think next time I'll try doing it blindfold and see if there's any improvement.

I'm on a journey...

You've all heard the opening line of many, many BBC documentaries where a middle aged comedian is on a journey - and the rest is just a vaguely hacked together series of mildly interesting anecdotes masquerading as a penetrating and incisive narrative.

The latest is Griff Rhys Jones and "his journey" around rivers, imaginitively called River Journeys With Griff Rhys Jones. Last night's episode annoyed me. Not because he went to Marple and didn't acknowledge it, but because the whole point of this exercise was a fraud.

He went from west coast to east. Included in this were some warm and inviting vignettes of modern geography; the clean up of the Mersey, Manchester's underground rivers, then some stuff about canals. Visually this works very well in Marple, which they did by shooting the barges, the locks and the viaduct, but his narrative was to get on the Rochdale canal in Manchester city centre and then get off around Stalybridge and hike up a mountain, so he didn't mention it. But then that's the point of these programmes. No one is really listening. No one is really watching. No one will notice if you take liberties with reality.

They didn't even mention the name of the star in the making sat on the bridge at about 17m 36secs. We certainly didn't on first look!

Griff then dropped down to Chatsworth House - oh how the BBC love a toff and a stately home - warbled about there for a bit, then ambled over to the Trent for some stories about a road and fishing for carp in gravel pits. As for his "journey from east to west" he'd forgotten it.

Next month: Alan Partridge and the spoons of our Motorway service stations.

Once more unto the beach

Sorry for not smiling, because I was very happy indeed. There is no sensation more likely to make you feel like you're on holiday than sea water in your face. I do so like crashing around in the waves with a Boogie board.

Summerleaze beach in Bude also has a safe seawater pool, freezing mind, hence the wetsuits.

Wide Open Road

It took ten hours to get from Marple to where we are staying in Cornwall. All told that included diversions to even get to the M6, two meal stops (an hour each), two road side toilet stops, rain in the Midlands, heavy traffic on the top bit of the M5 near Bristol, rubber neckers on the M5 in Somerset and a couple of wrong turns.

As I was piloting the supplies that's a lot of time alone. I listened to all my podcasts, a morning of Radio 4, some music and a dreadful afternoon of nothing courtesy of Radio 5 Live.

Here are some random things I learned.

More soldiers who served in the Falklands have committed suicide than died there in battle.

Justin Webb is leaving the BBC in Washington to move to London, the sale of his house there was a very odd process.

It's raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

Mark Mardell is leaving the BBC in Brussels to replace him.

It's still raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

The origins of the mild insult "Berk" - thanks to Andrew Collins on the Word Podcast, in a debate about Dave Cameron's use of the T word on the radio.

Ooooh, it's raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

I really don't like the Monocle Podcasts at all.

Julie Cullen and Matt Everitt on the BBC Radio 6 Music Podcast are just fantastic. Especially from live events.

Of the mid-period Jam albums, I prefer All Mod Cons to Setting Sons.

How is it possible to say so little other than it's raining at Egbaston, no thanks at all to Radio 5 Live.

If you do a Genius selection (from my music) based on One Day Like This by Elbow it comes up with, as you'd expect, Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Glasvegas and... Promise by Girl's Aloud. Obviously based on songs of the year. And yes I do have that track.

Admire the distance

More than most I was pleased that Manchester has forged a link with Los Angeles. Richard Leese explains, here.

Back in 1999, when I'd had enough of London and had enough of my job, I had two serious options in front me - move back to the North West and get a job doing something completely different, or pursue a very serious opportunity to work in the new film office in Los Angeles as part of the British High Commission. Obviously, I took the former route, but was able to stay in journalism.

My first interview in London was on the day after Joe was born, I was asked if I wanted to carry on with the process (and I did have another interview), but the importance of family took precedence and I backed out.

I liked LA; it's fashionable to say it's all just freeways and false people, but I've been there a dozen times for work and for holidays - usually nesting in either West Hollywood or Santa Monica. There's always something new to do, somewhere unusual to explore. And there's something magical about watching the sun set from a dusty road up in the canyons, or at the Observatory at Griffith Park. It helped of course that I've got good friends there, Matt Diamond and Colleen O'Mara, who know the city.

A film that shows LA's layers so well is Heat, starring Robert de Niro and Al Pacino. There's a brilliantly atmospheric build up at one point, two thirds in, featuring the skyline, helicopters, freeways, that then prefaced the dramatic scene where they meet for a coffee (at Broadway Diner in Santa Monica, since you asked). The soundtrack to that build up was New Dawn Fades, a Joy Division track performed by Moby. Tony Wilson used to tell the story that he and Yvette were watching the film in a cinema on Sunset and sat up straight, exclaiming - "that's one of ours". The improved live version - featuring New Order with Moby - is on the 24 Hour Party People soundtrack. It always reminds me of that choice I made.

Rain rain go away

Way back when, and after two consecutive summer holidays in the same place in Italy, we have chosen to go to Cornwall this year. The weather forecast looks utterly wretched, but we are determined to have a good time.

We're loading up with wet suits, boards and wellies, as well as shorts and t-shirts. We're renting our own house out to a couple of army mates of mine who are just back from a tour in Afghanistan and like gardening and decorating for relaxation. I've done a map with all the things to do on it, including see a pre-season friendly at Truro City. If you have any more ideas, let me know.

Football's finest

So Burnley veterans play Blackburn Rovers veterans as part of a family oriented tournament at the MEN Arena. What do you know, a bunch of about 20 throwback idiots turn up to kick it off.

Details are here. The messageboard from the Lancashire Telegraph, which I can't even be bothered to link to, had Burnley's finest actually castigating Rovers fans for a "no show". I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

There's a lot of goodwill towards Burnley. You've got Alastair Campbell spinning like mad with his profile of Owen Coyle in the Observer, favourable coverage in the New York Times and lots more. But there is a dark underbelly to their support which threatens to ruin this Premier League adventure.

A few choice links at the wet end of July.

Here are a few choice links at the wet end of July, with some broad hints at things I should take to read and listen to on my hols in August. Any other suggestions gracefully received.

Real journalism's David Conn turns his attention to Liverpool and their American owners.

And some thoughtful posts on The Word site, sparked by the moral quandry of a Manchester City supporter. Been there, done that, bought the replica shirt in 1994.

They tried to make me go to Sangin, no, no, no. Great review of the book I'm enjoying reading - Junior Officer's Reading Club by Patrick Hennessey.

I must get round to reading Nudge - behaviour, human and otherwise and how to influence it. Also, a clever Manchester group to bob along to. And another group of thinkers here.

Italian dreams - Barga is an amazing place in the northern and hilly part of Tuscany. It's got very strong Scottish links - Paulo Nutini's Dad was born there, for instance. And the annual fish and chip festival is in full swing at the football ground in the town. From tonight. And it's 28 degrees and sunny.

New local paper for Stockport. Mmmmm?

The new deli in Marple, All Things Nice, is bloody brilliant. But the website isn't working yet.

Scroll down from here to see the Clarks Weaver - quite fancy a pair of these.

A whole new ball game

Having become moderately interested in Rugby Union after our business went into partnership with Sale Sharks, my interest has been sufficiently piqued to accept a corporate invite to go and see a different type of egg chasing today: Warrington Wolves v Salford City Reds at Rugby League.

I don't have any particularly stong prejudices about Rugby League. There is an old adage from Laurie Daly (link here) that says Rugby League is a simple game played by simple people, with something rude about who plays the 15-man version.

Then there's this, here. Which explains a few differences and is pro RL.

This argues that the subtleties of union make it more intruiging, more like chess.

I also noted some comments from a Rugby League fan - Damian Connelly - to explain his personal frustration with the 15 man code:

Andy Farrell briefly considered a return to Rugby League after a disastrous World Cup - decided against it though as it would mean a return to having to be active for 100% of the game, instead of just 20% and anyway "you don't get chance for a cup of tea on the pitch when you play league".

Ruck/Maul specialists spend winter officiating at Harrogate Turkish baths so they can continue rolling around on the floor bum@ing and groping....

Line out teams may as well join the Billy Smart circus trapeze act - again another opportunity for a bit of "manual handling".

I understand that the IRB are considering a few rule changes to make the game more exciting - dropping down to 13 a side, with unopposed scrums and limited tackles. Or alternatively to exploit the propensity to pap pants and kick the ball instead of taking a tackle like men, drop down to 11 a side, make the ball round, take down the posts and replace with a netted enclosure.

OK, so I'm getting into something way over my head here. What I can say is I've been to loads of Sale Sharks games and still don't understand the game. I enjoy it, but don't understand it. I can work out the pattern of a football match within 30 seconds. Rugby? no chance.

So yes, of course I've seen Rugby League on TV, I can see that it's a faster and more flowing game. But it's also very straightforward to understand.

The atmosphere at the game was also slightly more like a football match today; there were away supporters, abusive songs, fans goading each other and police. But I was told that was because Salford are a bit more "soccer" than most well behaved RL followings.

If there's a frustration I've had of watching Rugby Union it's the ability of a poorer team to play tight rugby and stop a game by sheer physical determination: Bath, Worcester and Newcastle all did that to Sale. I can't see 13 players doing that to the same extent with the open style of RL. On the evidence of today's game, Rugby League seems to be all about courage and speed. Warrington dominated, yet trailed at half time 12-20. Whatever the coach Tony Smith said at half time, changed the game totally. They were braver, took more risks, chalked up points and Salford lost all heart. The result was a capitulation to 62-20.

But read a better report of the game than anything from me, here, here or here.

We'll have a bit more of this, I reckon.

It's Grand Up North

We've had a fun day today. My nephew Calum came over for a joint birthday party with our littlest lad Elliot, who will be 5 soon.

In pursuit of real football

Even though this blog is having a month, or two, off football, I did want to mention our expedition on Tuesday to see some real football. Me, Joe and Louis set off to Bower Fold, home of Stalybridge Celtic, to see the pre-season friendly against Buxton. Sadly, the game was at Buxton. Doh!

Thinking quickly, we headed a few miles up the road to Mossley, where the Lilywhites were meant to be playing Stockport County. Except they weren't, it was Flixton from the Vodkat League. Pre-season, eh?

There's a match report and video of the game here, which sums it all up from a Mossley fan's perspective: should have won about 8-0, but wasn't, it was 2-1. Fair play to Flixton, they had a go. The report seems a bit depressed, poor crowd, poor game, bad weather. I suppose watching non-league football over a long period becomes a real struggle of faith and will.

Indeed, there are tales of Mossley's financial plight here and here.

Honestly, the lads loved it. And I did. We loved being close to the pitch, hearing the banter, hearing the ref, seeing the balls getting kicked out of the ground (seven) and they appreciated the quality of the football. Seriously. Mossley's right midfielder had good feet, but couldn't score. Danny Dignan, the scorer, was lively. Flixton defended stoutly.

I've spoilt my children by taking them to see Premier League football and to allowing them to sample executive boxes and sponsors lounges. It's time they got some perspective on the whole family of football. We'll be doing more of this. Hyde, Stalybridge, Curzon Ashton, Woodley and Altrincham beckon. And Mossley again.

Politics can matter

So, this quest for some grown up debate goes on. On Wednesday I chaired a session for Greater Manchester Chamber on what devolved powers Manchester might get under the new city region arrangements.

Here's how it was reported in Insider Daily:

City region status will only benefit Manchester if backed up by the ability to set and keep business rates, a Greater Manchester Chamber event was yesterday told. Dermot Finch, director of the Centre for Cities think tank, said: “It’s meaningless if they don’t have this power, because Manchester is currently too reliant on bodies like the Department for Transport. But a city region can work here for five reasons: strength through collaboration; more efficient public services; a better ability to assess local skills and transport needs; and because of its strong global brand.”

That evening I went to a debate at Manchester Town Hall sponsored by the Independent, entitled Is Our Democracy Under Threat? I haven't located a report anywhere, but it was very well attended and some excellent points were raised by all the panel: Howard Jacobson, Johann Hari, Neil Hamilton and Graham Stringer. Politics, concluded Stringer, matters to people when opinion is polarised. The TIF debate fired people up, he said.

City region powers aren't as exciting as all that - the audience at the Chamber do was about 40 people.

There were about 200 at the Indie debate. And bizarrely, they barely touched on the erosion of civil liberties.

PS - I have actually now found a report, here, but check out the dreadful level of dogma and polemic masquerading as debate. I sensed an undercurrent of this at the debate itself, heckling from the crusties and stoppers.

Column inches

I had a very pleasant night out last week with Steve Connor at the Manchester International Festival pavilion. An evening talking about old friends, old enemies, the collapse of neo-liberalism and Jello Biafra can't fail really. We went to see The Durrutti Column, an instrumental Factory band, who produced a "paean" to our late friend Tony Wilson. And what a smashing, handsome, young man Oliver Wilson is turning into. It was lovely lovely music, with a mixture of tight strings, brass and subtle percussion.

But Paul Taylor's review - here - had it right.

For music so contemplative, it was a bizarre choice to stage this in the Pavilion Theatre, the audience forced to stand in a sweltering tent rather than appreciate every nuance from the cooler vantage point of a seat in, say, the Bridgewater Hall.

Are we just old farts, then? Or was this another Wilson act of situationism from beyond the grave? Make people suffer for the consumption of such art.

I think my next Vini Reilly experience will be listening to the new album sat down on a large sofa with a glass of wine and a book about Victorian industrialists.

Some more intellectual grist on the mill

I was invited to a breakfast event this morning with about 60 big hitters from around Manchester, where the guest speakers threatened to bring some intellectual vigour to Manchester's perpetual renewal, as discussed here.

The main point was that the city needs to recapture a 19th century “sense of self-fulfilling ambition” and continue to be a "city of ideas" with a "sense of independence". That was the conclusion of historian Tristram Hunt, a biographer of Freidrich Engels and author of Building Jerusalem a book Sir Richard Leese recommended (to much laughter) "if you have a spare few weeks".

They were debating the subject So What Has Manchester Done For Us? along with design guru Peter Saville at the Manchester International Festival Pavilion in Albert Square.

Hunt said history shows us the importance of arts, culture and ideas in attracting 25-34 year olds to a place - as Manchester did in the industrial revolution– “they are the wealth creators of tomorrow.” He also told stories of Manchester in the 19th century as a centre of innovation with "an extraordinary culture of public science".

Saville seemed nonplussed. He also said the audience was in "shock and awe" at Hunt's presentation. I rather took it as amusement, politeness and stimulation.

Now, the event was organised by the Commission for the New Economy, who invited a hand picked and deliberately on message kind of crowd. Saville also used the Guardian newspaper as a metaphor for what Manchester used to be and how it is unimagible that the leading liberal newspaper could be from Manchester in the present day and age.

Maybe it was early morning, but I felt Saville spoke with his usual impenetrable density. He is hard to follow, but there are ideas of searing simplicity pressing against the early morning wall of fog that a double shot of espresso didn't shift. But Tristram Hunt was lucid, lively and stimulating. They at least agreed that strong civic leadership sets Manchester apart. It needs to be - there are precious few private sector stakeholders with enough responsibility towards Manchester and a central government that is indifferent or hostile to Manchester’s ambitions.

But to return to the previous intellectual salvo - how much appetite is there for this kind of debate? And how much thinking and talking actually leads to new ideas that turn into wealth creation? I get brief glimpses of activity from the Commission, or Manchester Knowledge Capital, when the latest guru with an American accent gets wheeled out, but wonder if this amounts to a hill of beans? Jane Davies of Manchester Science Park asked that very question this morning, who needs another strategy?

Also, when I dropped the words M*dia C*ty into my question I got the distinct impression I was talking about some kind of elephant in the living room. Peter Saville doesn't believe the Manchester Guardian could exist today. But Radio 5 Live, a national news network, will be coming live from Manchester in two years time. And much more. It can work and it will.

It's silly wrong but vivid right

I have said many times that the key to happiness is spending quality time with the people you love. Last Saturday night we had a couple of families over with their kids for a few quiet drinks, followed by a great many noisy ones. I will continue to feel very sheepish when I next see our neighbours, who will have been reminded of how badly I sing.

There can be no greater way of celebrating friendship and life than singing together. And as I've been asked this week to come up with five songs for a Desert Island Discs project organised by Forever Manchester, then I want to dedicate the last one of the five to Michelle & Andy Hinselwood and Jane & Trevor Martin and all their wonderful children.

It's this, but then you'll have guessed that by now.

I haven't quite decided on the others yet.

Bookmarks for mid July

Me and my old pal Steve Connor are off to see The Durutti Column on Wednesday at the Manchester International Festival. It's a Paean to Wilson, and there's a link to their site here, and a lovely piece about drummer Bruce Mitchell here.

Don't get scammed. Read this.

Author of Kill Your Friends - John Niven, on Michael Jackson.

Frank McKenna on Michael Jackson, Michael Owen and Michael Shields. Sensible on all three counts.

Here's a sensible and pragmatic body of thought about how best to rebuild community politics and to oppose the BNP. And here are a series of profiles on some of the female supporters of the master race party (Babes of the BNP).

Real Journalism's David Conn covers the latest twists at Leeds United. Superb, but check out the messages, so many have been removed.

To become an extremist hang around with people who agree with you. From The Spectator, interview with bloke who wrote Nudge.

Great piece on Manchester International Festival from Prospect magazine.

Christopher Hitchens on Gordon Brown, from Vanity Fair.

Elbow and the Halle - magic

If you want to read a proper review of Elbow playing the Bridgewater Hall with the Halle last night, then this review from the Independent fits the bill.

And me? It was a special day. A special occasion. Most live music loses something in the delivery of the polished, produced, recorded performance, but then makes up for it in the thrill of being there, and the atmosphere of a collective experience.

Last night the Halle improved, enhanced, illuminated and made Elbow sound even more beautiful.

And there was also the added thrill of being there and enjoying an atmosphere in this special city. As one person said - no other city could ever have brought together something as comparably wonderful.

Walking towards Castlefield afterwards the air was alive with love.

Thanks to the BBC, there's this too. A glimpse, but you really had to be there. We were.

Rootless fools

I came across a blog from April, here, asking Whatever Happened to the Northern Intellectual?
It had been sparked by a round of debates, led bythinker and writer Charles Leadbeater, who has written an “interactive essay” entitled "The Art of With", which allows paragraph by paragraph comments.

Quotes from others are in italics, by the way. Stick with me.

The summary from the blog’s author Bournemouth Runner (it’s a song by The Fall, but then you knew that already) is as follows:

Leadbeater’s seminar at Manchester's Cornerhouse raised the point that the avant garde has traditionally been "separate" - rejecting the consumerism of the 20th century, but being part of arts institutions that are themselves based upon the consumerist model. Is the web, with its ethos of "shared" and "collaborative" experience a different model? Perhaps.

After a ramble about something called Googleopolis and sampling, he then launches into a bit of a rant about a lack of intellectuals and how that may hamper the development of a knowledge economy. Here you go:

And, around this, and this is why "The art of with" debate is timely, there needs, to be frank there to be an intellectual and critical discussion. I wonder whatever happened to the Northern Intellectual? Our city and regional leaders wouldn't fit that description - and nor, come to think of it, would many of our other high profile figures. When its (sic) debating time in Manchester we roll out the interesting, the practical, and the well-known, whether its (sic) Guy Garvey, Ian Simpson, Wayne Hemingway or Dave Haslam. Nothing wrong with any of them of course; but there's a sense of either the streetfighter tamed, or the Grammar school boy acting down for the masses. It's why Tony Wilson had the streets of Manchester to himself, where 2nd-hand situationism, and a day job at Granada could make for an intellectual high water mark. On the day that MMU/Chorlton-based Carole Ann Duffy most likely gets the Laureate, our professor of contemporary poetry is praised for her humour, accessibility and popularity, not for her intellect. Main rival, Simon Armitage, is always careful to hide his intellect under a laddish cover of northern dry wit.

Ouch. There's more.

There's a challenge for "the art of with" and the Cornerhouse, and that's about Manchester itself. Charles Leadbeater is fine and dandy, but its (sic) when the city doesn't have to import its intellectual discussion, but leads on it, that the city's undoubted knowledge economy will come into its own.

It sparked a response from DJ Dave Haslam, who said...

What or who is a 'Northern Intellectual'??? What or who is 'an intellectual', come to that? If you provided some examples or some description of this mythical being, then I would be able to begin to discuss this with you. Your question implies that once there was a Northern Intellectual but now there isn't. Or even your question implies, maybe there was only ever just one; 'the' Northern Intellectual. Perhaps a man who you once met on a train who read the same books as you and therefore fitted your ideal. I wish you'd been at the Festival Pavilion last night [Saturday] to hear me interviewing Guy Garvey. It was a great event; we talked about death, the creative process, the idea of 'home', the work of Alan Bennett, definitions of masculinity, drinking, how Manchester creates 'scenes', queues in Somerfield and Australian theme bars. And loads of other stuff. God knows if we were 'intellectual' enough for you, but I think we contributed to the world of ideas in a very unique and intense and open way. The audience asked questions. The room was full of love. We had a bit more to drink. There were no 'gatekeepers'.

Bournemouth Runner said he was sorry and that he’d missed a good one, but asked:

We're certainly still in thrall to the "intellectual" - or ideas person - from elsewhere, whether its Charles Leadbetter (sic), Stowe Boyd or Martin Amis - whereas, wrongly, I think, anyone outside of London gets praised for everything other than their intellectual capabilities.

Yet apparently there is a “scene” developing – around something called the Social Media Café which happens every now and again, this week it was at the BBC on Oxford Road. This "scene" has the potential to be at the beginnings of the so-called knowledge economy, he says.

I think there's a real thirst in the city for this kind of debate - I hope that the expanded Cornerhouse as Manchester's "creative hub" will become this.

Anyway. Here’s my first thought: "The city intellectuals of the world are divorced from the folk-bodied blood of the land and are just rootless fools." Jack Dolouz (and not Sal Paradise). Look it up.

I do sometimes worry about a lack of intellectual ballast in the recent movement to renew the North of England. So I have some empathy with that core concern. But basically, you're just left feeling, so what?

On balance, my problem with the above debate and the central idea of an "intellectual" is it seems very confined to the creation of art and culture, with the vaguest of nods in the direction of urban design. And yet there are, all around Manchester, profoundly “intellectual” people with lots to say about bioethics, theology, economics, civic politics, sustainable development, football, quantum physics and education, to name but a few. Whether these amount to a body of ideas that derive from "a Manchester way" in all of these areas is dubious. And whether in so doing they contribute enormously to the rigourous scrutiny that any new idea requires, then I have to say they do.

Within this huge pool of intellect, there is a grounding in common sense and of people just getting on with it. Does that therefore reduce it's intellectual value? I don't think so.

What I do think is that many worthy efforts to make it more so are just becoming paralysed with the ache of trying too hard. How many times have I heard the complaint that all the policy "think tanks" are in London? And yet, whenever a London-based thinker pontificates on a new way of civic leadership all roads lead to Albert Square. No model of governance could create what Manchester's civic entrepreneurs and political leaders have forged through their own endeavours.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with “importing” from elsewhere. Nothing at all.

War PLC - book review in a lift

I enjoyed Steve Armstrong's book about private military contractors (PMCs). Government's organise their armed forces to win their last war, not the next one, observes Tim Spicer, a leading and very modern mercenary. And the Iraq war will be seen as the first privatised conflict; but not the last. Just as many aid missions are led by NGOs, so too they will require firepower and muscle for protection. This book is not an academic study, or a blockbuster, but a journalistic summary of a misunderstood and misinterpreted economic and military trend. He makes good use of interviews, cuttings and background to present the whole world of PMCs from the point of view of everyone involved. I used to work in the same office as Steve (Stretch as he was sometimes referred). I always liked him, though we weren't friends or anything. Very pleased to see he's doing well. Book could do with an index though. 6.5/10

BBC staff look North

There's a piece in Media Guardian on the take up of relocation amongst BBC managers ahead of the move to MediaCity at Salford Quays.

A link to it is here.

My response, posted on the site, is this, though I was mainly reacting to moronic posts from readers of the UK's leading liberal newspaper:

Oh dear. marky1982, Kelvin, lhur2006, whoever. You're not going to get a rise out of us.

And please, I urge all these Mancunian sophisticates to resist from coming on here and saying there's a nice deli in Didsbury, or that the Manchester International Festival has just seen Kraftwerk doing Orginal Modern things.

No, this project is actually about getting the BBC a little bit closer to the people who pay for it. Some of them might drink WKD in cheap bars, even.

Nation Shall Speak Peace Unto Nation - so well done to all those BBC folks who have chosen to pack the van and move North. A welcome awaits.

And to the BBC looking for people to get the job done, there are loads of creative people in the North with great ideas excited at the prospect of making programmes for the nation's broadcaster.

More coaching badges than Paul Ince

I mentioned I was doing an FA coaching course here. Well, I passed. Which felt absolutely bloody brilliant. The best thing I got out of today was the real strong bond between the 22 of us on the course. I was on last and there were no shortage of helpers for me setting out the pitch, helping as ball boys (and girls) and taking an active part in the exercise. I hope I was as helpful to the others in their hour of need.

A new physical affliction to add to the swollen Achilles - sunburn on the backs of my knees. Ouch.

After yesterday's Under 11s 11-a-side tournament at Hadfield, where Joe's knee gave out and he had to be carried off in tears in the semi-final, then witnessed his mates lose on penalties, I was feeling a bit down about the whole circus of kids football. I still despair at the behaviour of some adults - and I didn't exactly cover myself in glory by giving the ref some backchat about child protection when he refused to stop the game as Joe was unable to walk. By the way, I've checked, and he should have stopped the game (welfare of the child is paramount), but equally as a parent on the sidelines I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

But there is a minefield here and as zealous as I feel about what I've learned on my course, I question whether common sense and FA policy is swimming against the tide. What should the attitude to winning be? Win at all costs? Or play the right way? At what point is asking kids to make decisions going to work?

It's July - some bookmarks of stuff I've been liking

Blimey - I've been made Man of the Week in Liverpool. Here's me with Frank McKenna and his report on the event we did last week.

Danny Baker's stunningly well-written and brilliantly observed piece on Michael Jackson from The Times in 2005.

When I said last week that it is far from a foregone conclusion that the Tories will sweep to power next year, I had this in mind - Jackie Ashley puts it very well

A very amusing video with Hardeep Singh Kohli.

The Spectator's Debroah Ross has lunch with Jimmy McNulty from The Wire.

Hazel Blears to face wealthy independent opponent at next election.

Adidas Beckenbauer - superb black wheels

OB well on top - good interview with Manchester's top cop by ManCon

Happy to renew our Rovers season tickets

We rebooked our season tickets for the Rovers today. We've decided to get four. One adult and three kids. Hopefully that will work out OK.

The Blackburn End and the Riverside are totally sold out. The family stand is filling up and the special offers on "taking back" the Darwen End with the 15 game £150 offer has gone well.

There will be four games where the Darwen End will be given to the away fans, news of it is here. Two will be Liverpool and Man U, one will be Burnley, presumably on police advice. The other is to be decided. I anticipate that will be a controversial decision. But then I wouldn't want to sit in a lower tier underneath that lot. Equally, Burnley are looking at reducing away fans capacity in the Cricket Field stand.

Having a laugh with Theo Paphitis

The Many Hands Campaign has been designed to get smaller businesses involved in getting their staff to raise money for the Manchester New Children’s Hospital Appeal. I was asked to help out last night as the campaign drew to a close at a reception with Theo Paphitis.

He made a very good point: businesses that encourage their staff to get involved in things like this actually do better. It's great for spirit and has the effect of generating a more selfless attitude.

The campaign has generated £100,000 for The New Children’s Hospital Appeal. And many of the initiatives have been brilliant. A special IoD Award for Innovation in fund raising went to Sheldon Bean from Beanstalk Telecom and Nigel Woolfstein from Wood & Woolfstein Dental Surgery who raised nearly £18,000 with their 24 hour tennis tournament.

Richard Duerr from Manchester jam company Duerr's presented a painting made with their own products, jam, marmalade and the sky was done in tartare sauce. He revealed that the top bid was for £1,050 from Richard's father. Theo offered £5K. Nice one.

My job was to moderate the Q+A. He was a great guy to interview, full of funny stories and really sound advice. He's signed me a copy of his book, so I'll have to read it now. Yes, he's disappointed not to have bought Woolies, and no he wouldn't follow Alan Sugar into a government role. Sort of, I think he'd quite like to be asked.