The Boy and The Coconut Tree

As the train speeds back down south to London and my anxiety of being at home, not wanting to be there, and not wanting to leave fades I am laughing at the photograph my mam shared with me today, taken in September 1981 as I headed to the senior/comprehensive school for the first time. I was probably no bigger than 4ft tall, 7 stone and still had some of my baby teeth, freckles and a love of Lego, my nana (grandma to all you non northerners) and little else. My mam has kept this image in her purse for 36 years hence the creases and folds. We are not sure who or how my hair was cut but my fringe is epic and the smile is definitely one of my more cautious smiles. Now I grin and smile full beam, this is a photo of a little boy half excited and scared at the same time.  Going to the comprehensive was a big deal, we had uniforms, we would be doing classes in subjects I'd not yet studied (but would soon love) and I didn't realize I would be in a school in which most of the teachers...

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 ...

Apart from my sneezing as if I was a competitor in the allergy Olympics, today has been a wonderful day. Woken up by my niece and nephew at 8am as they were preparing for school and breakfast I got up earlier than I had planned on a holiday but when you are in someone's house, you do their rules. My dad was taking my niece in her pram for a walk to the local shopping centre and I asked him to pick me up some things but he insisted I walk with him. I did, reluctantly, not reluctant to hang out with my dad for an hour but I wanted to be lazy and the pollen count is so high I am sneezing more often than I am breathing, or so it seems, I do exaggerate when it comes to my hayfever. Firstly, I had to prepare, my dad was still in his jeans that he wore for gardening so stained with grass and soil. I needed to wash, change and put my shades on. Dad was already standing on the drive waiting for me with my niece in her pram. And so it began. I knew a different route to the shops, a r...