Category: Musings

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Is Music more Important to us Baby Boomers?

Image courtesy of NME
Image courtesy of NME

I have just read a great post from Graeme at sustainingcommunity.wordpress.com who like myself writes a blog about what he feels are the important things in his life. After his Family, his career It seems coincidental that both have an interest in music and he shared one of his favourites from the seventies.

Whats more interesting he can remember what he was doing at the time he was listening to the track! I do that to and I find it amazing that when I hear a track from my past I can remember what I was doing at the time within the first few bars of the song.

I suppose that is because music was the voice of youth in the seventies, something that belonged to the young and the fact it annoyed my parents made it even more attractive.

With the advent of mobile phones, the internet and digital downloads could it be that the excitement of discovering new music by word of mouth or by reading the New Musical Express has been somewhat diminished.

I am not saying that the music produced today is any less brilliant, it’s just I don’t see people discussing it like we used to and I definitely don’t see people walking down the street with an LP under their arm (unless you count the guy I saw at a Caravan concert last year).

So here is my question to you, what music was playing when the most important thing in your life happened?

You tell me yours and I will tell you mine.

If you want to see what track Graham shared in his post go to https://sustainingcommunity.wordpress.com/2015/03/15/song-for-sunday/

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That was a quick 40 years

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These two pictures I have found shocked me to the core!

The first picture is of Ann my wife and I in 1975 on a drive out into the countryside one Sunday afternoon in March just before we were married in June of that year.

The Second Picture is of us again 40 years later again on another Sunday drive out, this time down to Silverstone Racing Circuit in England.

Its not the time that has passed that has shocked me its something much more surprising. Its not the lack of hair or the fact I have put on quite a bit of weight but after looking through boxes and boxes of family photographs these are the only two photographs of us together having fun without the Kids.

Its amazing to think that the two young people in the photograph starting out on a life together all those years ago have turned into the two old crumblies in the other.

The real frightening thing is that it doesn’t seem all that long ago!

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Are you sure you know your audience!

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As a seasoned media producer I have always held the belief that the audience is the all important factor in any production, how did I overlook this fact when I started Blogging.

I suppose in my defence I blog for pleasure so I suppose its a little bit like the Cobbler and his shoes.

So who are my Audience?

I would like to think they are people of a certain age who like myself have started to view the world differently. Some say I can be a little cynical but I do have a saying that holds an element of truth to it and that is behind every successful bright young thing there is often a worn out old thing running around keeping the ship afloat.

So my blog is for those amongst us who have encountered moments of ecstasy, the depths of despair and all the points between.

Now I learned a lesson a couple of years ago when I started to notice I had had reached the age were most bright young things started to see me as almost transparent and that my considerable skills were being dismissed as old fashioned but I was useful when it came to pitching for projects.

I was pitching to a company to make a film promoting redevelopment opportunities, something to explain to potential investors of the various redevelopment schemes on offer. Now bearing in mind I have been pitching ideas for this type of work for more years than I care to remember I was rather shocked by the behaviour of the panel who I had to present too.

They invited me in and I started my presentation. I started my pitch but half way through I realised things were not going well. One of the panel got up for a coffee whilst others sat looking at iPhones reading emails and messaging. The deal breaker though was that two individuals started talking to each other and not about my presentation. Talking over someone presenting is quite possibly one of the rudest things that you can do to any individual who is already under considerable pressure.

I eventually finished my pitch answered one or two questions and then left, not expecting to hear from them ever again.

Now normally after this type of exercise I phone the company for feedback and ask why we were unsuccessful, that way you can improve your technique and get on with the next one.

So after phoning I expected them to give the usual string of reasons, your to expensive, you don’t understand our brand etc. But to my surprise the gentleman said my pitch was by far the best they had seen and they did not question weather or not I could complete the project to the quality they required, the reason they give took my breath away. I was told my pitch was “too northern”!

This came as a shock considering the content of this extravaganza was to promote projects for a northern town. I now truly felt like the lunatics had taken over the asylum!

However once the dust had settled I started to think about the project and who the potential audience would be. I had made a grave error in judgement, I should have aimed it at the merchant bankers and investors who live in the south east of England.

Since then when looking at potential projects the first question is always what is the budget and the second is always who is your audience.

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Who I am and why I’m here

Me

I suppose I had better introduce myself. I am John Eccles a 60 odd year old married man who has had a very eventful life in and around the education and media sectors for most of my working life.

My blog consists of various posts covering aspects of life with family and friends in the Northwest of England.

Well here goes, I live in the middle of the pennines in a small village called Diggle. I know its a strange name but its one of several small villages that cling precariously to the moorlands in an area collectively known as Saddleworth, in-between Oldham in Lancashire and Huddersfield in Yorkshire. Depending on the company you are in will determine which side of the border you admit to living in! (yes it is that contentious an issue).

I arrived here thirty years ago with my family to try and give our Kids the best start in life that living in a small community offers. So along with Ann and my two children we embarked upon what our families thought was a huge undertaking. Travelling all of ten miles to move into our first home which at the time seemed to be a very expensive small terraced stone cottage.

To a certain extent our plan was highly successful, not only have we raised the kids here along with various dogs, horses and goldfish but even our grandkids also spend a great deal of time here also.

So whats my blog about. Its about my everyday observations as a 60 odd year old person who goes through life looking for the best in everyone and in every situation. But believe me of late some days thats not been very easy.

I have found that most people in this world are the same no matter what gender, ethnicity or religion they belong to, we all have a need to feel as though we are valued and loved. I have discovered more often than not people will respond to a smile or a kind gesture and before you know it you are having a chat and showing each other photos on your mobiles.

Now my wife sees me before anyone else as the day starts and she suggests fairly frequently that Its the first cup of coffee that makes me a nice person, before that I am very grumpy.

 

So if you want to get an insight into the mindset of you average grumpy northern bloke who makes media stuff then this could be the place for you.

So I hope you enjoy my blog and please if you do let me know.

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Living in the Land of the Pies


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I am very lucky living here in the pennines. High on the moors can be a little wild in winter but when spring arrives you forget that haven’t seen any of your neighbours since Christmas and the wind and rain subsides little and life starts getting back to normal. Now I know that normal is a purely subjective concept, but normal in our village means you put your light waterproof coat on rather than three arctic standard waterproofs and your thickest woollen vest.

Now I know that I am painting a pretty bleak picture,  but even in the depths of Winter I do count my blessings. We have great Pubs with roaring fires that fill your nostrils with that smell you only get off burning real logs, Great Beer in a multitude of varieties but my particular favourite Hot tasty food that warms you to the very core.

Even now I can remember coming in from school and my mother having a huge pan of homemade vegetable soup simmering on the cooker with what seemed like huge pieces of fresh bread and butter being served up as soon as we got through the door. Its strange though that all the food I remember having as a child is still around in some form or another although the portions do seem to be getting smaller.

When we sometimes do go into Manchester to dine I always look on the menu for food that I recognise, that I can compare to how it tasted in the past. More and more the restaurants try to introduce dishes that sound fantastic, some of which are, although the servings are seldom as generous as I remember.

Now like most blokes my age we were brought up on Pies, Puddings, Chips fried in beef dripping and at a push some vegetables.

Now this is were living in the Pennines has an overriding advantage. Nearly all of the farm shops here sell pies of all shapes sizes and varieties and all taste exquisite. They even compete with each other to see who makes the best pies which is always a winner especially when you see the trophies on the butchers counter top. If you partner that with Home produced bacon, free range eggs and mouth watering sausages then you will realise that my diet is a challenge, how do I eat all this stuff I love without weighing at least twenty stone.

Its simple Ann my long suffering wife attends Weight Watchers which means that for at least two thirds of the week I eat healthily, those being the days when I am particularly grumpy like some poor soul who is strung out because of withdrawal. Apparently its for my own good and i should be grateful I get to eat this wonderful food for the other third of the week.

So here I am sat on a Sunday night dreaming of pies waiting for my Sunday Dinner which because of Weight Watchers on Tuesday evening will mean we will be on Chicken and Boiled Potatoes and a couple of lettuce leaves.

I pray that Ann loses a couple of pounds this week otherwise my diet for the next week will consist of cardboard bland tasting food that will make me very grumpy indeed.

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Looking Forward Rather Than Back, Now Thats a Novel Idea!

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This is my first post of the New Year and like everyone else I am sat here with a slightly enlarged waistline due to the copious amounts of mince pies I have consumed over the holiday period.

After much thought I have decided that this year is going to be different. Don’t worry I havent turned into a tree hugger or had an epiphany, but I thought I would try something a little different this coming year.

What I have decided is that I need to plan ahead what I want to achieve rather that looking back at what I have achieved. Its strange when we look back at what we have achieved we can list our successes but seldom do we remember the things we didn’t achieve.

I suppose that we have been programmed to forget stuff that isn’t seen as ‘taking you forward” and we forget very quickly the things that we felt passionately about when we were young. I know from experience that when you get older and the more responsibilities you have the more you have to compromise and that colours your decision making.

I could be like me you feel its physically unrealistic to follow your dreams and you soon you start saying no to all sorts of stuff that if you put your mind to it you could still do in some form or another.

So here is my plan for this coming year. I am going to say yes to doing stuff that takes me out of my comfort zone and laugh a lot more, after all you are a long time dead.

Now some people who know me well will be aware that I am a little cautious when it comes to parting with my hard earned cash so I will be looking at stuff that doesn’t cost a fortune. How much can it cost to be a little happier and a little more adventurous without the use of illegal substances and ladies of the night.

So once a month this year I will make a point of trying out something that will make my heart race a little faster or make me smile a lot. So this years blog should be a little more interesting than the last years offerings. All that remains for me to say is I hope you and yours have a happy and healthy 2015 and you follow my newly hatched plan over the next twelve months.

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It is matriarchy that makes most villages thrive

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I love living in a small village and living here does have its benefits,  I also know how lucky I am to be able to live here. According to my brother in law he thinks I am lucky as well, but as I reminded him a few months ago of the famous Thomas Jefferson Quote “the harder I work , the luckier I get’. He looked a little bemused but it does take a lot of effort and expense to live in rural England.

Now I know it lifts the soul to wake up every morning and look out over rolling hills punctuated with stone buildings and trees but it is more than that. It’s mainly because of the people who live here.

We moved into Diggle 32 years ago when our kids were at the local school, when summers seemed full of sunshine and endless trips to the pub to meet friends and their families.

If you have kids you become the taxi of mum and dad and in-between stable and band practice and your kids social lives its easy to rack up 20,000 miles a year just shipping them around.

Now I know some people reading this think that village pubs are no longer the hub of village life but to a certain extent it is still the case. It’s the bump space for the village, a space were all generations get to enjoy each others company and get to know whats happening in our small community.

Friday nights in particular are great fun, we have a local Brass Band Club which holds the B band practices on a Friday night which ensures that from about seven thirty it is full of parents patiently waiting for their kids to finish practice so they can start the weekend. It is true that most of the waiting throng take advantage of the fact that the bar is open and it is now the place to meet on a Friday night.

What makes it special is the various generations that meet up, we have the early doors crew who wait for the kids and are great fun to be around, we have the golfers who spend the evening discussing what golf course they are playing the day after and we have the Band members who meet up and do what bands do, which seems to consist of drinking copious amounts of beer, (it must be very thirsty work).

But it’s the older generation that never ceases to amaze me. I know to some I am that generation and I know I am no spring chicken but the grandparents who come to listen to the youngsters play are amazing.

Now I know in the sixties and seventies the likes of Germaine Greer who wrote The Female Eunuch and the women’s liberation movement were railing against the role of women in society and making a stand for women rights, its obvious she never bumped into any of the women in our village when she did her research.

Now I don’t have an issue with women, in fact I quite like them, I will rephrase that I like them a lot.

I know what you are thinking but you are wrong, I like a certain type of woman and our village has more than our fair share of them. I think most men will agree with me when I say that I like women who have a sense of humour, who are strong, who don’t take crap from anyone and can hold their own in an argument.

I fortunately I married one of these women and guess what my daughter and grand daughter are just the same. So god help anyone who crosses them.

This Friday whilst I was stood at the bar waiting to be served I overheard a comment from a lady who was in her late sixties taking to her daughter, and this is not paraphrased this is what she actually said.

“So when I took the freezer door apart I found the small spring that holds it shut was broke”. I was so surprised to hear her say that, I interrupted the conversation to check if I had heard it correctly. This led to a conversation about Facebook, laptops, tablets and passwords. It was like talking to a twenty year old.

It fantastic to think these people who are now way into retirement have more life in them that a lot of people half there age. They walk half way around the planet, they drive cars tractors and even wagons should the need arise and are always on call to stand in transporting grandkids to any fixed point on the globe. All this whilst posting on Facebook and sending emails to the council about some cause or another. These women are the backbone of the community and are first in line should anyone need help.

I think that it is this matriarchy that makes most villages thrive and it will be a very foolish politician who ignores these people in the next election or even worse tries to underestimate them as a driving force in the community.

So I will continue to meet up and talk to as many people as I can over a pint or two because thats what makes this world an interesting place to be a part of. I suppose I have just outlined the problem with social media, It doesn’t get a round in at the bar.

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Surviving Technology Cold Turkey

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Every now and again it pays to take a break from the hectic 24/7 lifestyle that we have all embraced so readily. With mobile phones and various social media gadgets, life is without doubt stressful.

It’s not like its easy to opt out of either. If you are anything like me I regularly put my phone on silent for a bit of peace and quiet, however when it vibrates in your pocket I can’t overcome the urge to look at who is trying to contact me. It’s a very frustrating experience and it can drive you to the brink of insanity if you let it.

So with that in mind Ann and myself decided along with some friends that it would be rather nice to visit the Norfolk Broads for a few days and just chill out, floating at 4 miles an hour on an aircraft carrier sized boat with en suite bathrooms and all modern amenities (including Satellite TV) seemed like a great idea.

Anyone who has ever visited Norfolk will know what a blissful experience it is. Big skies, plenty of rivers and broads to sail on and great country pubs to drink and eat in. Wrap that package with great weather and life doesn’t get much better.

We had a great time, apart from one little niggle that gradually made me become almost obsessive by day three. I realised I had become almost paranoid about wanting to check what was happening in the world, I had started missing my phone and tablet, my window on the world.

I started looking out for WIFI hotspots, (an impossible task in Norfolk). I would have had more success trying to catch the Lock Ness Monster on his holidays. I found myself lingering outside of pubs with free wifi, having Coffee with free wifi or at my darkest moment visiting a supermarket with free Wifi.

I know what you are thinking, how do people in Norfolk survive with what is almost third world internet connectivity. Its simple, they buy newspapers and talk to each other, and they use maps instead of the Sat Nav on their phones, what a refreshing idea.

By day four my mindset had totally changed, gone was the need for connectivity and I actually started to chill out. The whole idea of the trip in the first place.

So it is possible to turn of the technology and enjoy yourself, to complete a crossword without the help of Google, read a paper without squinting at a four inch screen to read the content. So my advice to anyone who wants to try technology cold turkey for a few days visit Norfolk and enjoy the peace and quiet.

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Excuse Me Sir But You Remind Me of a Famous Film Director

Richard Attenborough on the set of Shadowlands in 1993 (Picture: Rex)

I have been saddened by the news this morning of the passing of Sir Richard Attenborough. Although often seen to be in the shadow of his brother David, his involvement in the British Film Industry has been largely overlooked for the passed ten years or so.

He was a generous man who saw the best in people and as a director he was a class act. His 1982 Oscar winner ‘Gandhi’ was brilliant in every aspect, the story telling, the photography and the quality of the performances. Ten years later he produced another masterpiece ‘Chaplin’. A fantastic portrayal of Charlie Chaplin in his early career in Hollywood.

However the young people who watch films today will only remember him for his cameo appearances in the Jurassic Park films, in which he performed the eccentric Grandfather role to perfection.

But my own personal favourite is the remake of ‘Miracle on 34th Street’, although panned by the critics just watch the faces of young children watching it and you can see the need to believe in there faces.

I suppose that compared to many, his 90 years on this planet have been busy, productive and I suppose privileged in many ways. But it was not without tragedy. His eldest daughter and grand daughter were lost in the Tsunami in 2004, something I would imagine is very hard to come to terms with.

I remember a couple of years ago I was giving an introductory talk to some new first year students about what life will be like working in the media sector when one young lady in the audience said during the break, “You remind me of a famous film director sir, but I can’t remember his name”. I suggested rather naively “would that be Stephen Spielberg”. I asked smugly. “No, that bloke who made Gandhi”. At the time I felt slightly upset since Sir Richard was over thirty years older than me at the time!

So today whilst reading his obituary I was thinking about that student who perhaps I would like to think could see a little bit of his qualities in me, but I doubt it and in this day and age there are far worse people to be compared to.

But my favourite story is about him was when he won the Oscar for Gandhi ahead of Spielberg for ET. In his acceptance speech he mentioned that he didn’t think he deserved it and it should have gone to Spielberg who made a far better film. I suppose many will disagree with him but that was the measure of the man.

I think we need more people like Sir Richard in our world so I hope he rests in peace.

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The United Nations Breakfast Club

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We’ll I’ve survived another holiday on foreign shores and lived to tell the tale. Now that doesn’t mean that it was all plain sailing, you have to work at being relaxed and happy and according to Ann I am really crap at it.

Our holidays normally the responsibility of Ann, she likes to be in control and I like to turn up on the day with my toothbrush and ask where are we going? Now I know that it is the lazy way to vacation but up to now it’s worked very well, Ann’s happy because she is in control and I am happy because I haven’t had to make a decision.

However this year has been different, I thought I would try and organise our holiday just to prove that I am not completely useless in this area. After several minutes of research whilst having a beer it struck me almost like an epiphany, why not choose somewhere that we both like. Then I had a second thought why not try to find an activity that Ann likes to do.

So after much head scratching I remembered about fifteen years ago we did a cruise and one of the places we visited was Santorini, a small island in the Aegean Sea which I remembered was the most beautiful place I had ever visited. As an added bonus I remembered it also had shops, so what’s not to like.

Now bearing in mind that Ann now walks with a stick, or two on a bad day I also remembered it was full of steps so after much searching I found what looked like a rather nice hotel just a short distance from the centre of Fira within striking distance of the shops. Perfect, although the price almost made my eyes bleed!

That was back in December and if like me you forget what you did last week, Ann’s constant interrogation throughout our journey of the what’s it got and what’s it not got, made me very nervous about arriving. The cynic in me was thinking, have I fallen foul of the ad mans blurb, will it be as nice as it looked online.

After landing at the Smallest Airport I have ever passed through in my life we transferred to our hotel not in a huge coach but an air conditioned luxury minibus with a rather helpful and smooth looking Greek Adonis, Ann’s response was ‘bloody hell, bus drivers don’t look like that at home’. Once the luggage was loaded, we left the airport and twenty minutes later we arrived at our hotel which even I was impressed with.

This is probably the best hotel I have ever stayed in. It looked even better than the online photographs and our suite according to our bar tender is the best on the complex (he would say that wouldn’t he). From our door we overlook the Caldera (Volcano Crater) and from our balcony we can watch people across the complex whilst sipping our pre dinner Gin and Tonics.

I know all this sounds to good to be true, but this island although changed since our last visit is still astonishingly beautiful, peaceful and quiet. I have learned over the years that nothing lasts forever and within a few years this island will change and bow to the ever increasing demands that tourism brings.

Now it didn’t take me long to make a lasting impression with the other guests, walking in for breakfast on our first morning wearing a Viva Cuba Tee shirt that Ann had bought me because it looked nice (I don’t wear logos out of a point of principal, I pay to buy it so why should I advertise the product for free).

Now I didn’t think I was being outrageous wearing this tee shirt, however the table full of elderly Texans seemed to take offence and stopped talking mid sentence but like all true British folks abroad we braved it out and finished my breakfast, and very nice it was too.

This brings me to the point of this ramble. We are staying in a hotel filled with every nationality imaginable. Some on long stays and some for a couple of days. Whilst I sit by the pool being nosey it amazing what you can find out about the various nationalities.

The aforementioned Americans managed to complain about almost everything however the Greek hotel manger was priceless. The loudest American gentleman was complaining about seeing a rat outside his room in the undergrowth. The reply from the Manager was fantastic and had me choking in my drink. ‘Was it in your room sir’? ‘No’! replied the American, ‘That’s ok then it’s not a problem’, and walked off. The expression on the American’s face was a picture.

The Australians on the other hand seem to plan every day down to the minute and must partake in some worthy excursion or exercise. I got tired just listening one group getting all excited over another gruelling schedule being discussed over breakfast.

The Japanese contingent are also fascinating to watch, they push into queues, walk quickly and take photographs of the most mundane things. I must say I feel slightly unnerved by the fact that my white skeletal frame with a huge belly in my speedos will provide endless amusement in someone’s family album back in Japan.

Finally that brings me to the Germans, they have a huge self confidence that is almost overwhelming, they had behaved themselves until Saturday when they ditched our towels and stole our Sun loungers which put Ann in an apocalyptic rage that needed two gin and tonics to placate.

It was the Spanish however restored my faith in human nature. One day whilst at the pool and the sun was stripping the skin off my bones, a Spanish family asked if I would want to change loungers because they had a sunshade. I will be eternally grateful to them otherwise I would have been burned to a Crisp.

I hate to think what everyone else will be writing about me when they get back home but the bottom line is that we are all different in some way but we should look at what we have in common, be a little more tolerant of each other and try something different now and again to keep your pulse racing.

I find it a little strange that even on holiday we become a little entrenched in judging people by our own standards rather than trying to understand why they do what they do. If we behave in this way when on holiday then I despair what we are like in our everyday lives.

I was deeply saddened and enraged by the report by Jon Snow from Gaza on Channel 4 News whilst I was away. It seems obscene to me that as a collective population on this small planet we can allow over a thousand innocent people to be killed or maimed in a conflict that has no short term resolution in site and sit back because we think it is too difficult an issue to resolve.

I can only admire the negotiators in this conflict whose obvious patience far outweighs their frustration in trying to come to some negotiated peace which is long overdue.

So after that visit from the real world and as with all holidays it won’t take long to forget the fantastic experiences, people and places we have visited and I only hope the more we travel the more tolerant we will become of each other.

So that’s it rant over and I can assure you all that I am well rested and as they say in Diggle ‘Ready for owt’ the world has to throw at me.