The Boy and The Coconut Tree

As politicians on the right make profit from the terrorism in Manchester last week (but do deals with the spreaders of hate in Saudi Arabia) I wanted to say why they don't speak for me, a British man, not a flag waving patriot but someone who likes what this country is despite its flaws (flaws which have nothing to do with migrants or religions), flaws that politicians could fix if they were not simply interested in feathering their own nests and profiting from the suffering of others. Last night I was drinking with one of my friends who was born in Spain, raised in the UK, for me that is a typical weekend. He is straight, the rest of us were gay, again a normal night out in London.  Next week I will be having dinner with my American friend married to an Indian man, his best friend and his sister, again, a normal event in modern Britain. This morning I was served coffee by Simona from Italy and later today I had my eyes tested by Sanya, a British Muslim and was served in ...

This is just a run of the mill e ntry , no drama etc. So May is almost over, not Theresa May , I would love her to be over, I am talking about the month, a funny month, changes galore and it is hard to believe that 4 weeks ago I was in Montreal and Quebec eating gravy and chips and not feeling guilty about it. I changed jobs in May, not because I wanted to but my contract was coming to an end and was fortunate enough to find another job with a similar title, well instead of Professional Standards Manager I became Head of Professional Standards. A big leap and as my new boss said, I've become a big fish in a small pond after being a small fish in a big pond for a long time and it is scary, I feel like I've jumped over a big wall and whilst trying to enjoy that success I am now in a big garden or rather a safari park and there are bigger beasts to deal with. I am neither a real pessimist or a Pollyanna optimist so it is too soon to measure my success or failure. All I know right...

Only two weeks ago I was   writing about my romantic disasters , my romantic future and how my time on the shelf had become the norm for me, rather than an occasional experience. I revisited my past recently, very recently. The past weekend in Manchester. Over the past 10 months I had been in contact with an old flame, someone I met a long long time ago, 20 years or so and though the contact was benign and felt nice, it culminated in a reunion of sorts this past weekend. Awkward at first, it is amazing the power of alcohol has on awkwardness and a sense of shyness.  Two people, who were together for little under 2 years, broke up 21 years ago and ended up in bed again. I don't recall who initiated it, it doesn't matter, it felt nice and human nature leads us to doing things that feel nice, we forget the down side to doing things that open us up to hurt. The lesson is, scabs heal, and they may leave scars, small ones, but scars all the same. I have admitted on this blog m...