Evening Strumpets, I`ve been having a hell of a time growing the Mo for Movember, It truthfully has been a bugger, and worse than prepasring for the GNR last year. It`s just so damned itchy, all the time. But it`s for a great cause, and it`s lovely clocking fellow Mo Bro`s around the Country, and seeing people like Kevin Pietersen over in Oz sporting the gentleman`s attire.
Here`s a couple of Mo Impressions
Monkey from Monkey magic. he`s even got the headband!
Hunky Hugh Jackman as "Wolverine".
Harry Secombe as The Cyclops in 1976.
Chopper Reid!
Please copy and paste this link http://uk.movember.com/donate/your-details/member_id/912778/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account and support this worthy cause.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
Monday, 29 November 2010
Fingerpicker Froster.
Evening Strumpets,
Apologies for the length of time, but I`ve been having a few problems with me Dashboard for the Blog, hopefully all sorted now.
We`ve had a bit of a snowfall in England, and as a result it`s snowman time. However I thought me and Gracie might go for a Great North Strum type of critter, and below are the results. any ideas for a name?
Till the next one in about five minutes, learn something new.
Mark.
Apologies for the length of time, but I`ve been having a few problems with me Dashboard for the Blog, hopefully all sorted now.
We`ve had a bit of a snowfall in England, and as a result it`s snowman time. However I thought me and Gracie might go for a Great North Strum type of critter, and below are the results. any ideas for a name?
Till the next one in about five minutes, learn something new.
Mark.
Monday, 22 November 2010
What could I say?
Evening Strumpets (last time tonight, honest),
I`ve been working on the words for a tune written by Andy from Northern Banjo Boy, and today I finished it. It`s a lullaby, and it`s very much inspired by Maurice Sendak and (perhaps surprisingly) the poem read by the Father in the Stephen King Novel Cujo to help his son overcome his fear of the dark. I hope you like it, if you do, please feel free to leave a constructive comment on here. If you don`t post something on Andy`s Blog!
Following recording that i was messing about with the guitar and this happened.
very rough, but I honestly think it`s funny as hell! Keep `em peeled for further more polished versions of this. I really think it needs a basic glockenspiel riff over the top of it. Harry`s got a keyboard with a glock sound on it. or I could just use the upright piano in the dining room.
This is how it starts!
Till the next one, learn something new
Mark.
I`ve been working on the words for a tune written by Andy from Northern Banjo Boy, and today I finished it. It`s a lullaby, and it`s very much inspired by Maurice Sendak and (perhaps surprisingly) the poem read by the Father in the Stephen King Novel Cujo to help his son overcome his fear of the dark. I hope you like it, if you do, please feel free to leave a constructive comment on here. If you don`t post something on Andy`s Blog!
Following recording that i was messing about with the guitar and this happened.
very rough, but I honestly think it`s funny as hell! Keep `em peeled for further more polished versions of this. I really think it needs a basic glockenspiel riff over the top of it. Harry`s got a keyboard with a glock sound on it. or I could just use the upright piano in the dining room.
This is how it starts!
Till the next one, learn something new
Mark.
Live in Loftus.
Evening Strumpets (again),
Here`s a video from the wonderful open mic nights at The Station Hotel in Loftus on a Thursday night. There`s so much talent there, but it`s so relaxed and welcoming that it`s closing time before you know it.
Mark Davies. The Riverside.
Loftus | Myspace Video
Till the next one (in about five minutes), learn something new (you`ll have to be quick though).
Mark.
Here`s a video from the wonderful open mic nights at The Station Hotel in Loftus on a Thursday night. There`s so much talent there, but it`s so relaxed and welcoming that it`s closing time before you know it.
Mark Davies. The Riverside.
Loftus | Myspace Video
Till the next one (in about five minutes), learn something new (you`ll have to be quick though).
Mark.
Favourites part three.
Evening Strumpets,
I`ve had the most delightful day with my family. I was woken at the fantastically late time of 10:15 by Louise and the kids with a fine selection of presents and cards, both bought and home made. Then I went to see my dad with the kids.
I`ve written a few things on here about me Dad, and usually from a funny slant, but going to see him this morning I thought I should let you know about the real bloke behind King Kenny.
Born in 1929, the youngest child of Billy and Hannah, Dad was raised in Cannon Street in Middlesbrough. Cannon Street has long since been pulled down, and an Industrial Estate bears its name these days. But back then it was the heart of Middlesbrough. It`s residents at the time were poor, but got by. Dad often tells me of getting Sheeps skulls from the local butchers and looking for any cavities in them so he could suck out the sweet jelly!
Kids were often shoeless and large families would reside in the two up two down buildings, a blanket separating the lads from the lasses in the bedrooms. In the late Thirties His Dad went to see a folk band play in the Princess Alice, and during the set they actually broke out into a fight between the singer and the guitarist. The band disbanded there and then, and Grandad bought the Drummers Kit for a couple of Bob. Dad was a bugger for tapping out rhythm on anything he could get his hands on.
Dad played with the kit often and became pretty good to an amateur level. He remembers going to the Middlesbrough Empire Theatre when he was eleven, and sitting in the alley alongside, with his snare and brushes, playing along to the music coming through the open door at the side.
Following a bit of trouble at home (we`ll say no more about it) Dad had to leave sharpish and decided to go to try his hand in London. He slept rough in Hyde Park for a couple of weeks, and ate from the free biscuits given out at auditions, which he would stuff in his pockets. Eventually, and after Tutelage from Max Abrahms, Dad became a professional Drummer.
He travelled the world, and played with the likes of Tessie O Shea, Tommy Cooper, The Goons, and many others. He played on the Soundtrack of "The 39 Steps" and "Moby Dick". But he never lost his love of Middlesbrough. Following a fire in a theatre (The picture above shows dad with Billy Shakespeare the day after the fire) Dad decided he`d had enough of the music world, and returned home. He got a job with BT, where he worked for over thirty years. He met and fell in love with a Blackpool girl, and between them they had four kids, eight Grandchildren, one Great Grandchild, and an absolute Ball.
After retiring Dad decided to give our Mam what she`d always wanted and moved back to the seaside, only this time in Seaton Carew, just outside Hartlepool. They lived there for a couple of years before Mam noticed a problem when she went to the toilet. Dad didn`t know what to expect, but he travelled every step of the way with her, holding her hand, and in the darkest hours still making her laugh.
Mam died nearly three years ago, and for the first time in an age, Dad was alone. He had the kids, but they couldn`t look after him like Mary. He had his neighbours, but they couldn`t give him a cuddle and a kiss before closing his eyes on a night. The strain showed.
But the old Bugger didn`t let it break him. He continued to go on the Cruises that they had enjoyed, he would go to the local social club on a Wednesday and annoy the others by shouting "house" when he wasn`t even close to winnning. His Kids visit regularly, and speak to him most nights on the phone.
I went to see him this morning, and he looks thin and old. But Christ, he is thin and old. Within twenty minutes of being there he had given the Hal and Grace their ice cream fix, and was showing Grace how to play a paradiddle on the arm of his chair. before I left we were involved in a fifteen minute argument concerning whether a musician could really be classed as a musician if they couldn`t read music.
My Dad, the man who told me "never kick a man when he`s down" and "never give them your real name or address" regarding going out with lasses.
My Dad, the strongest man I`ve ever met, a real life Hero. King Kenny.
Till the next one, learn something new.
Mark.
I`ve had the most delightful day with my family. I was woken at the fantastically late time of 10:15 by Louise and the kids with a fine selection of presents and cards, both bought and home made. Then I went to see my dad with the kids.
I`ve written a few things on here about me Dad, and usually from a funny slant, but going to see him this morning I thought I should let you know about the real bloke behind King Kenny.
Born in 1929, the youngest child of Billy and Hannah, Dad was raised in Cannon Street in Middlesbrough. Cannon Street has long since been pulled down, and an Industrial Estate bears its name these days. But back then it was the heart of Middlesbrough. It`s residents at the time were poor, but got by. Dad often tells me of getting Sheeps skulls from the local butchers and looking for any cavities in them so he could suck out the sweet jelly!
Kids were often shoeless and large families would reside in the two up two down buildings, a blanket separating the lads from the lasses in the bedrooms. In the late Thirties His Dad went to see a folk band play in the Princess Alice, and during the set they actually broke out into a fight between the singer and the guitarist. The band disbanded there and then, and Grandad bought the Drummers Kit for a couple of Bob. Dad was a bugger for tapping out rhythm on anything he could get his hands on.
Dad played with the kit often and became pretty good to an amateur level. He remembers going to the Middlesbrough Empire Theatre when he was eleven, and sitting in the alley alongside, with his snare and brushes, playing along to the music coming through the open door at the side.
Following a bit of trouble at home (we`ll say no more about it) Dad had to leave sharpish and decided to go to try his hand in London. He slept rough in Hyde Park for a couple of weeks, and ate from the free biscuits given out at auditions, which he would stuff in his pockets. Eventually, and after Tutelage from Max Abrahms, Dad became a professional Drummer.
He travelled the world, and played with the likes of Tessie O Shea, Tommy Cooper, The Goons, and many others. He played on the Soundtrack of "The 39 Steps" and "Moby Dick". But he never lost his love of Middlesbrough. Following a fire in a theatre (The picture above shows dad with Billy Shakespeare the day after the fire) Dad decided he`d had enough of the music world, and returned home. He got a job with BT, where he worked for over thirty years. He met and fell in love with a Blackpool girl, and between them they had four kids, eight Grandchildren, one Great Grandchild, and an absolute Ball.
After retiring Dad decided to give our Mam what she`d always wanted and moved back to the seaside, only this time in Seaton Carew, just outside Hartlepool. They lived there for a couple of years before Mam noticed a problem when she went to the toilet. Dad didn`t know what to expect, but he travelled every step of the way with her, holding her hand, and in the darkest hours still making her laugh.
Mam died nearly three years ago, and for the first time in an age, Dad was alone. He had the kids, but they couldn`t look after him like Mary. He had his neighbours, but they couldn`t give him a cuddle and a kiss before closing his eyes on a night. The strain showed.
But the old Bugger didn`t let it break him. He continued to go on the Cruises that they had enjoyed, he would go to the local social club on a Wednesday and annoy the others by shouting "house" when he wasn`t even close to winnning. His Kids visit regularly, and speak to him most nights on the phone.
I went to see him this morning, and he looks thin and old. But Christ, he is thin and old. Within twenty minutes of being there he had given the Hal and Grace their ice cream fix, and was showing Grace how to play a paradiddle on the arm of his chair. before I left we were involved in a fifteen minute argument concerning whether a musician could really be classed as a musician if they couldn`t read music.
My Dad, the man who told me "never kick a man when he`s down" and "never give them your real name or address" regarding going out with lasses.
My Dad, the strongest man I`ve ever met, a real life Hero. King Kenny.
Till the next one, learn something new.
Mark.
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Five Alive, Part Two.
Evening Strumpets,
as promised here`s the second of my five favourite blogspots. with a tune at the end. scroll down, play the tune, and read the piece. Nice!
Evening strumpets,
At the weekend we took the kids into Town to have their feet measured for new shoes. Great news, they haven`t grown a bit, seventy of your new English Pounds saved for the Davies`s, woohoo! but it meant we had a bit of spare time on our hands. So what can you do on a rainy cold Sunday morning in Boro?
Surprisingly, quite a lot and relatively cheaply. In the Town Centre there has been a lot of work over the past twenty years into making it less of a place where you would avoid the dog turds, whilst simultaneously stepping over the drunks.
The kids had a play with the fountain, and from there we walked up to the bottle of notes, a huge sculpture, which like the Angel of the North either makes you think "what the..." or makes you think "Oooh I like that". This is situated next to a giant circular chessboard, and a little pond where you can feed the ducks. just over the way are the Law Courts, so often seen on the News when bad people do bad things. There`s a great sculpture outside (See above) which caused a bit of a scandal when it was first shown, as it was not long after the Cleveland Child Abuse scandal. luckily common sense prevailed and it remained.
From there it was over to MIMA, which was recently featured on "Top Gear".
This is the Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art, and it`s a cracking place. The kids love it, and get to really experience Art at their level. During a Bauhaus exhibition, Gracie asked what the picture was supposed to be? I asked her what did it look like, and she said "Spongebob kissing your Mobile Telephone" so that`s what it was.
Finally we have recently gathered a very large wheel. Not as large or as grand as it`s counterparts in London, or York, but lovely all the same. Great contrasting views of the Hills to one side, and the steelworks to the other, making me realise just why i love this Town.
It might be a Shithole, but it`s my shithole.
Till the next one learn something new,
Mark.
as promised here`s the second of my five favourite blogspots. with a tune at the end. scroll down, play the tune, and read the piece. Nice!
Evening strumpets,
At the weekend we took the kids into Town to have their feet measured for new shoes. Great news, they haven`t grown a bit, seventy of your new English Pounds saved for the Davies`s, woohoo! but it meant we had a bit of spare time on our hands. So what can you do on a rainy cold Sunday morning in Boro?
Surprisingly, quite a lot and relatively cheaply. In the Town Centre there has been a lot of work over the past twenty years into making it less of a place where you would avoid the dog turds, whilst simultaneously stepping over the drunks.
The kids had a play with the fountain, and from there we walked up to the bottle of notes, a huge sculpture, which like the Angel of the North either makes you think "what the..." or makes you think "Oooh I like that". This is situated next to a giant circular chessboard, and a little pond where you can feed the ducks. just over the way are the Law Courts, so often seen on the News when bad people do bad things. There`s a great sculpture outside (See above) which caused a bit of a scandal when it was first shown, as it was not long after the Cleveland Child Abuse scandal. luckily common sense prevailed and it remained.
From there it was over to MIMA, which was recently featured on "Top Gear".
This is the Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art, and it`s a cracking place. The kids love it, and get to really experience Art at their level. During a Bauhaus exhibition, Gracie asked what the picture was supposed to be? I asked her what did it look like, and she said "Spongebob kissing your Mobile Telephone" so that`s what it was.
Finally we have recently gathered a very large wheel. Not as large or as grand as it`s counterparts in London, or York, but lovely all the same. Great contrasting views of the Hills to one side, and the steelworks to the other, making me realise just why i love this Town.
It might be a Shithole, but it`s my shithole.
Till the next one learn something new,
Mark.
Friday, 19 November 2010
Five Alive.
Evening strumpets,
I`m going to post my favourite five GNS Strums written and sent over the past year and a half, finished off with a new song at the end of each one. With a visit rate of over 8,000 and a regular daily visit of 25 people(from Jakarta to California, to Bedfordshire to Wellington) viewing the blog, I can only say a massive thank you to the Strumpets spread throughout the Globe. It really means the world to me.
So, Here`s the first one.
A story which you truly could not make up.
11th April 2010.
Afternoon Strumpets,
We had the most brilliant day out in Durham yesterday. Originally we were going to go to Hardwick Hall, but in the spur of the moment we thought, as it was such a lovely day, a drive through to Durham and a picnic along the river by the Cathedral would be fun.
As we were looking around the Cathedral, the Chaplain of the Cathedral came over and began chatting to us, about where we were from, which school the kids went to etc. It turns out his wife taught at my school. He told us that there was going to be a wedding taking place at 2pm in the Cathedral, and Gracie may get a chance to see the Bride walking down the Aisle, but when we came back there was a massive crowd and, understandably, the part of the Cathedral was cordoned off where the wedding was taking place. Grace could just about make out the Groom (Harry was outside with his mother chasing pigeons, and lookingly longingly at other tourists uneaten picnics).
A Curate approached Grace and after asking me if it would be alright, said "Come with me Poppet". She took Grace down to where the wedding was taking place, and Grace got to see the wedding march perfectly. She was buzzing. I must admit from my angle it was pretty magical.
Then we went for a walk around the Market, and as we did so The Mayor Of Durham, Dennis Southwell, picked us out of the crowd, and asked if we would like to have a tour of his offices, and have a cup of tea in the Mayoral Lounge (If that`s the name)? As we were leaving, he came came up to Grace and said "I think I recognise you, are you called Gracie, and were you in the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette the other week doing a run with a pink guitar" Harry laughed like a loon, and Grace was absolutely amazed. She said that she was, so the Mayor said "Well if we`ve got a celebrity in the hall, I`ll have to open the Balcony so you can wave to the crowds". And that`s what he did. You really couldn`t make this up! He walked us through the
Chambers where people were being given guided tours, Telling people "Let us Through, this is Grace from the Gazette" and we spent five minutes on the balcony, waving at the people below. It was fantastic.
I don`t suppose Mr Southwell will have much call for reading a blog about a lad doing strange things with his banjo, but if anyone knows him, will you give him a massive pat on the back from me. It truly was the most amazing day. We`ve already got Grace and Hal writing thank you letters to send to him.
Here`s a song which I believe proves that somewhere, that fantastic day is still going on.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
I`m going to post my favourite five GNS Strums written and sent over the past year and a half, finished off with a new song at the end of each one. With a visit rate of over 8,000 and a regular daily visit of 25 people(from Jakarta to California, to Bedfordshire to Wellington) viewing the blog, I can only say a massive thank you to the Strumpets spread throughout the Globe. It really means the world to me.
So, Here`s the first one.
A story which you truly could not make up.
11th April 2010.
Afternoon Strumpets,
We had the most brilliant day out in Durham yesterday. Originally we were going to go to Hardwick Hall, but in the spur of the moment we thought, as it was such a lovely day, a drive through to Durham and a picnic along the river by the Cathedral would be fun.
As we were looking around the Cathedral, the Chaplain of the Cathedral came over and began chatting to us, about where we were from, which school the kids went to etc. It turns out his wife taught at my school. He told us that there was going to be a wedding taking place at 2pm in the Cathedral, and Gracie may get a chance to see the Bride walking down the Aisle, but when we came back there was a massive crowd and, understandably, the part of the Cathedral was cordoned off where the wedding was taking place. Grace could just about make out the Groom (Harry was outside with his mother chasing pigeons, and lookingly longingly at other tourists uneaten picnics).
A Curate approached Grace and after asking me if it would be alright, said "Come with me Poppet". She took Grace down to where the wedding was taking place, and Grace got to see the wedding march perfectly. She was buzzing. I must admit from my angle it was pretty magical.
Then we went for a walk around the Market, and as we did so The Mayor Of Durham, Dennis Southwell, picked us out of the crowd, and asked if we would like to have a tour of his offices, and have a cup of tea in the Mayoral Lounge (If that`s the name)? As we were leaving, he came came up to Grace and said "I think I recognise you, are you called Gracie, and were you in the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette the other week doing a run with a pink guitar" Harry laughed like a loon, and Grace was absolutely amazed. She said that she was, so the Mayor said "Well if we`ve got a celebrity in the hall, I`ll have to open the Balcony so you can wave to the crowds". And that`s what he did. You really couldn`t make this up! He walked us through the
Chambers where people were being given guided tours, Telling people "Let us Through, this is Grace from the Gazette" and we spent five minutes on the balcony, waving at the people below. It was fantastic.
I don`t suppose Mr Southwell will have much call for reading a blog about a lad doing strange things with his banjo, but if anyone knows him, will you give him a massive pat on the back from me. It truly was the most amazing day. We`ve already got Grace and Hal writing thank you letters to send to him.
Here`s a song which I believe proves that somewhere, that fantastic day is still going on.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Boo Yah!
Evening Strumpets,
a Couple more things on Boo.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
a Couple more things on Boo.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
Wake up New Boo!
Evening Strumpets,
Andy over at Northern Banjo Boy alerted me to a great recording website, where you can record directly which is really easy to use, and then put your stuff "out there".
So i`ve recorded a couple of me songs onto it, which should be much clearer.
Here`s the first one,
Hope you like,
Till the next one, learn something Boo,
Mark.
Andy over at Northern Banjo Boy alerted me to a great recording website, where you can record directly which is really easy to use, and then put your stuff "out there".
So i`ve recorded a couple of me songs onto it, which should be much clearer.
Here`s the first one,
Hope you like,
Till the next one, learn something Boo,
Mark.
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
National Elf Service
Evening Strumpets,
It`s official, I`ve just seen "THAT" Coke advert. So here`s something for you to enjoy.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark
It`s official, I`ve just seen "THAT" Coke advert. So here`s something for you to enjoy.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark
Saturday, 13 November 2010
Rock Your Mind!
Morning Strumpets,
More vid from last wednesday in The Alice.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
More vid from last wednesday in The Alice.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
Friday, 12 November 2010
Rock Me Amadeus
Afternoon Strumpets,
here`s the first of a couple of clips from The Princess Alice the other night. It looks like it`s been filmed from a secret camera located on the Tie of a drunk at the bar, but you should get the giste!
Till the next one, etwas Neues lernen.
Mark.
here`s the first of a couple of clips from The Princess Alice the other night. It looks like it`s been filmed from a secret camera located on the Tie of a drunk at the bar, but you should get the giste!
Till the next one, etwas Neues lernen.
Mark.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
`Tache tastic
Evening Strumpets,
So here`s the Movember vid (very rough version) so far, with legendary Anna Shannon, Brilliant Mannequin Attic, and wonderful Glen Coggins featured. Many more to come.
One Movember spawned a monster in the shape of this tache
which must remain
a stranger to Mach III
Please visit http://uk.movember.com/donate/your-details/member_id/912778/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account .• Click this... link Or,
• Send cheques and CAF vouchers (made payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity Re Movember’) directly to The Prostate Cancer Charity – First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London W6 0LE. Be sure to include the person’s name on the back of the cheque.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
So here`s the Movember vid (very rough version) so far, with legendary Anna Shannon, Brilliant Mannequin Attic, and wonderful Glen Coggins featured. Many more to come.
One Movember spawned a monster in the shape of this tache
which must remain
a stranger to Mach III
Please visit http://uk.movember.com/donate/your-details/member_id/912778/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account .• Click this... link Or,
• Send cheques and CAF vouchers (made payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity Re Movember’) directly to The Prostate Cancer Charity – First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London W6 0LE. Be sure to include the person’s name on the back of the cheque.
Till the next one, learn something new,
Mark.
Lest We Forget
Chris sent me this via Facebook.
The Send-off
Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
To the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray
As men's are, dead.
Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp
Stood staring hard,
Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.
Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp
Winked to the guard.
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
They were not ours:
We never heard to which front these were sent.
Nor there if they yet mock what women meant
Who gave them flowers.
Shall they return to beatings of great bells
In wild trainloads?
A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
May creep back, silent, to still village wells
Up half-known roads.
Wilfred Owens.
The Send-off
Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
To the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray
As men's are, dead.
Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp
Stood staring hard,
Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.
Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp
Winked to the guard.
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
They were not ours:
We never heard to which front these were sent.
Nor there if they yet mock what women meant
Who gave them flowers.
Shall they return to beatings of great bells
In wild trainloads?
A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
May creep back, silent, to still village wells
Up half-known roads.
Wilfred Owens.
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
A Tale from a Hospice.
Afternoon strumpets,
I`ve been asked by Jan in New York why I "do stuff" for Cancer Awareness and Hospices. As you are probably aware I lost me Mother to the bastard a couple of years ago, but many years before that, whilst doing my nursing studies (This was last Century) I was sent to a local Hospice for a placement. It was during this placement that I realised why nurses are called "Angels" in England. I could tell you a million stories from my placement there, but there`s one which really had an impact on me and how I chose to live my life. I won`t name the Hospice, and I`ve changed names and a few minor details, so hopefully nooone will be able to identify themselves from the following story.
A man was admitted to the Hospice, who had been found collapsed in a Bed and Breakfast room in the local area. He had been unconscious for a couple of days and was in a terrible state. He was tidied up, and given the required medication, and within a couple of days he was able (very weakly) to speak. I got chatting to him, and it turned out he was a Brummie (from Birmingham) who had moved here in the early Nineties. He had a passion for Aston Villa (A football club) which still showed in his eye`s whenever we got into arguments about which team was, at that time, the best. He had no family or what you could call friends in the Town, and his nearest relative, his Sister, lived in Kingstanding in Birmingham, but he wasn`t sure where.
"Villa" as I called him (he called me "Boro") had Prostate cancer, which had spread to his bones. he didn`t have long, but I was asked if I could keep him company, as quality of dying was as important as quality of living and noone should have to go through either alone, unless they wished to. Villa swore like a trooper, and at times was a right grumpy sod, but at no point was his anger or grumpiness aimed at his condition or staff. It was just who he was. He told me he had got in with a bad crowd and had gone from one "drinking house" to the next. It was one of these establishments where he had collapsed, but noone had noticed for a couple of days.
When I asked him why he drank he just said "One`s too many, and ten`s not enough Boro". He`d known he was poorly, but hadn`t gone for a check up because "I didn`t want to be told I might get better".
The Friday morning of the day he died I was on the early shift. I`d got there for ten to seven, to be told he didn`t have long, and would I go into his room and sit with him until the inevitable happened. Of course I would. I got in there at half past, and it was obvious he didn`t have long. He had been placed on "driver" which allowed regular analgesia to be pumped into his system. I held his hand and told him it was going to be ok.
Several times that morning I thought he had gone, and several times he would make me jump with a massive inhale. I told him to let go, but the self preservation of the human body is incredibly resilient, and he just would not allow his train to visit its final station. I sat in the room, telling visiting staff that I was fine, for nine hours holding his hand, keeping him as comfortable as I could. Then a miracle happened. i`d love to tell you he opened his eyes and said thank you, or that he got better, but that`s not the types of miracles that happen in Hospices. The miracle was that his Sister turned up.
One of the nurses had been on the case, and had managed to contact her. His sister thanked me and told me she would be with him now, and take care of the arrangements to take him back to his beloved Birmingham once the inevitable happened.
I went home absolutely exhausted. I bought a bottle of wine, and began preparing Tea. Whilst doing this, the telephone rang. It was the Matron from the Hospice asking me if I was OK. She told Me Villa had died peacefully, but that his Sister had been in the toilet when it happened.
I raised a glass, kissed my wife, and went back to making Tea.
Hope that answers your question Jan.
Please help raise awareness of Cancer by supporting things like Movember (it doesn`t have to be me, there`s loads of blokes doing it), if only so there aren`t more "Villa" stories about.
Till the next one learn something new,
Mark.
I`ve been asked by Jan in New York why I "do stuff" for Cancer Awareness and Hospices. As you are probably aware I lost me Mother to the bastard a couple of years ago, but many years before that, whilst doing my nursing studies (This was last Century) I was sent to a local Hospice for a placement. It was during this placement that I realised why nurses are called "Angels" in England. I could tell you a million stories from my placement there, but there`s one which really had an impact on me and how I chose to live my life. I won`t name the Hospice, and I`ve changed names and a few minor details, so hopefully nooone will be able to identify themselves from the following story.
A man was admitted to the Hospice, who had been found collapsed in a Bed and Breakfast room in the local area. He had been unconscious for a couple of days and was in a terrible state. He was tidied up, and given the required medication, and within a couple of days he was able (very weakly) to speak. I got chatting to him, and it turned out he was a Brummie (from Birmingham) who had moved here in the early Nineties. He had a passion for Aston Villa (A football club) which still showed in his eye`s whenever we got into arguments about which team was, at that time, the best. He had no family or what you could call friends in the Town, and his nearest relative, his Sister, lived in Kingstanding in Birmingham, but he wasn`t sure where.
"Villa" as I called him (he called me "Boro") had Prostate cancer, which had spread to his bones. he didn`t have long, but I was asked if I could keep him company, as quality of dying was as important as quality of living and noone should have to go through either alone, unless they wished to. Villa swore like a trooper, and at times was a right grumpy sod, but at no point was his anger or grumpiness aimed at his condition or staff. It was just who he was. He told me he had got in with a bad crowd and had gone from one "drinking house" to the next. It was one of these establishments where he had collapsed, but noone had noticed for a couple of days.
When I asked him why he drank he just said "One`s too many, and ten`s not enough Boro". He`d known he was poorly, but hadn`t gone for a check up because "I didn`t want to be told I might get better".
The Friday morning of the day he died I was on the early shift. I`d got there for ten to seven, to be told he didn`t have long, and would I go into his room and sit with him until the inevitable happened. Of course I would. I got in there at half past, and it was obvious he didn`t have long. He had been placed on "driver" which allowed regular analgesia to be pumped into his system. I held his hand and told him it was going to be ok.
Several times that morning I thought he had gone, and several times he would make me jump with a massive inhale. I told him to let go, but the self preservation of the human body is incredibly resilient, and he just would not allow his train to visit its final station. I sat in the room, telling visiting staff that I was fine, for nine hours holding his hand, keeping him as comfortable as I could. Then a miracle happened. i`d love to tell you he opened his eyes and said thank you, or that he got better, but that`s not the types of miracles that happen in Hospices. The miracle was that his Sister turned up.
One of the nurses had been on the case, and had managed to contact her. His sister thanked me and told me she would be with him now, and take care of the arrangements to take him back to his beloved Birmingham once the inevitable happened.
I went home absolutely exhausted. I bought a bottle of wine, and began preparing Tea. Whilst doing this, the telephone rang. It was the Matron from the Hospice asking me if I was OK. She told Me Villa had died peacefully, but that his Sister had been in the toilet when it happened.
I raised a glass, kissed my wife, and went back to making Tea.
Hope that answers your question Jan.
Please help raise awareness of Cancer by supporting things like Movember (it doesn`t have to be me, there`s loads of blokes doing it), if only so there aren`t more "Villa" stories about.
Till the next one learn something new,
Mark.
Monday, 1 November 2010
One Movember spawned a monster!
Evening Strumpets,
This Movember, the month formerly known as November I’ve decided to donate my face to raising awareness about prostate cancer. My donation and commitment is the growth of a moustache for the entire month of Movember, which I know will generate conversation, controversy and laughter.
Prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men. One man dies every hour from the disease in the UK. This is a cause that I feel passionately about and I’m asking you to support my efforts by making a donation to The Prostate Cancer Charity. To help, you can either:
• Click this link http://uk.movember.com/donate/your-details/member_id/912778/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account . Or,
• Send cheques and CAF vouchers (made payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity Re Movember’) directly to The Prostate Cancer Charity – First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London W6 0LE. Be sure to include the person’s name on the back of the cheque.
The Prostate Cancer Charity will use the money raised by Movember for the development of programs related to awareness, public education, advocacy, support of those affected, and research into the prevention, detection, treatment and cure of prostate cancer.
For more details on how the funds raised from previous campaigns have been used and the impact Movember is having please visit http://uk.movemberfoundation.com/research-and-programs.
Thank you in advance for helping me to support men’s health.
Till the next one, trim something new,
Mark.
This Movember, the month formerly known as November I’ve decided to donate my face to raising awareness about prostate cancer. My donation and commitment is the growth of a moustache for the entire month of Movember, which I know will generate conversation, controversy and laughter.
Prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men. One man dies every hour from the disease in the UK. This is a cause that I feel passionately about and I’m asking you to support my efforts by making a donation to The Prostate Cancer Charity. To help, you can either:
• Click this link http://uk.movember.com/donate/your-details/member_id/912778/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account . Or,
• Send cheques and CAF vouchers (made payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity Re Movember’) directly to The Prostate Cancer Charity – First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London W6 0LE. Be sure to include the person’s name on the back of the cheque.
The Prostate Cancer Charity will use the money raised by Movember for the development of programs related to awareness, public education, advocacy, support of those affected, and research into the prevention, detection, treatment and cure of prostate cancer.
For more details on how the funds raised from previous campaigns have been used and the impact Movember is having please visit http://uk.movemberfoundation.com/research-and-programs.
Thank you in advance for helping me to support men’s health.
Till the next one, trim something new,
Mark.
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