Thank goodness I’m going on holiday tomorrow. Not only do I need to relax after the mayhem of another Blackpool weekend, but the stress of packing a couple of suitcases for two adults and pre-pubescent is more than anyone needs in their life. Talk about mayhem and hair-pulling frustration and you’re getting there. The trouble is – I cause most of it.
Ever since I was a kid I’ve always been the first to start getting excited about family events. Christmas, birthdays, holidays, you name it, I go over the top first. I can’t help it. I just like going on trips and doing things with my family, and the excitement grows to a level where I am that kid again, with the floppy ginger hair running around the house going mental. Now I’m 34, and people are asking questions about the true nature of my sanity.
The only good thing I can see from it, is that I’ll never grow into a boring old fart. I could be dead tomorrow, so why not enjoy myself today?
Blackpool, though, was awesome. This year was our 17th anniversary and it threw up some delightful broken records, as well as keeping to our preferred pattern of events. We’ve always wanted to have a drink in all the pubs in the Pleasure Beach, all three pier bars, and the Tower Ballroom in a single day. On Friday, for the first ever time, this was achieved.
To compound this success, we almost did it again on the Saturday, were it not for the Tower and North Pier being closed for Veteran’s Day events. Can’t have it all, I suppose.
The main thing that is always the case on these trips, is that me and my best mate got to chill out together just like we did 17 years ago; have a drink, chat about life, talk about the past, the present, the future, and our hopes. Mission accomplished.
I got home from the Blackpool trip at around 4pm yesterday, and after checking through my email, went out to do some clothes shopping for the holiday.
I received the latest mailout from Irvine Welsh’s news forum today, detailing the information regarding his new book, Crime. I was left shaking my head in disbelief. Here’s a short extract from the second paragraph synopsis:
Welsh’s sizzling new novel, Crime, is a thrilling journey into the bright glamour of the Sunshine State and a seething underworld of utter darkness. Now bereft of both youth and ambition, Detective Inspector Ray Lennox is recovering from a mental breakdown induced by occupational stress and cocaine abuse, and a particularly horrifying child sex murder case back in Edinburgh.
Did you spot it? Yup – Welsh’s protagonist is none other than DI Lennox, albeit Ray, and not my Robert. Typical. There was I thinking I had captured a great name for a great character that fit beautifully into what I wanted, when young Irvine dips back into police writing and chooses the same surname. This may affect Slick’s chances of publication, although I don’t know enough about how this is viewed to be sure.
I went into the day job for the best part, though it dragged and dragged – a symptom of it being a single day sandwiched between holidays, I suppose.
After all was done, we headed through to my parent’s house in the evening to stay over before the flight from Glasgow airport tomorrow. And so, from the west coast of Scotland, I bid you all farewell. Two weeks will come and go. Once again, I’ll see you on the other side.