Sunday, 25 November 2007

Neither were Gerald

I've agonised about whether or not I should write about the following subject. I've been concerned that it might be seen as looking for sympathy. I can assure you that I'm not. I'm writing about the following because I want to raise awareness.

Nothing can prepare you for being told that you have cancer. When you are first told it's a tremendous shock. You feel numb. It brings home to you that you are indeed mortal. My lady had been getting on at me (in a nice way) to get a two-coloured mole that I had on my arm checked out by the doctor. Eventually I did. It wasn't my normal doctor that I saw, but one at the practice who I think is close to retirement. He pronounced that “it is probably nothing to worry about”, but arranged for me to have it removed a week later by my doctor. I don't really believe in omens, but as I walked down to the doctors the following week for my surgery, a wasp flew into my face, landed on my lip, and as I brushed it away the bastard stung me. There I was lying on the operating chair with a fat lip while a piece of me was being removed. It didn’t look or feel good.

A week later, I returned to have the stitching/wound examined, being told by the nurse that it was healing up nicely. Indeed it healed up to what looked like quite a nice little scar. About three weeks later I got home from work to find a message on our answer phone from my doctor asking me to ring him. My heart sank. I knew exactly why he had rung. He told me that the tests on the mole that he had removed had shown that it was a superficial melanoma. He was going to refer me to a skin specialist at the hospital. The appointment at the hospital revealed that I would need to have more skin removed from my arm where the melanoma had been to see if there was any more cancer present. After an inspection of my torso it was decided that I was also to have a mole removed from my face. Two separate operations. I also had my initial wound and two moles photographed with measurement stickers stuck on me prior to being snapped.

The first operation at the hospital was to have the extra skin removed from my arm. It was quite a hefty cut, which now it has healed, looks like an act of desperation where I've tried to slit my wrist at some point in the past. Thankfully when the results came back there had been no more cancer found. But there was still the matter of the mole on my face. This was quite a painful experience. The doctor was very good. After lots of grinning and general face making he took his pen to my face and mapped out the incision he would finally make. I think the pain was mainly due to the blood vessels and nerve ending on your face being close to the surface. Or something like that. It started to heal up nicely and will hopefully blend into my face quite well. My only hope was that I didn't have to have more surgery.

Yesterday a letter arrived from the consultant. I wanted to know the results but at the same time I was somewhat apprehensive. I was so overjoyed when it said that the second mole was benign and that no further treatment was required. Words cannot explain the relief I felt!

I would urge anyone that has either two-coloured or odd shaped moles about their person to go see their doctor. I'm so glad I did!

““
the mole that is no more

Tuesday, 13 November 2007

Join the R&B Liberation Front Today

Have you noticed that in your local record shop slushy soul ballads and sugary 'black' pop music is being wrongly categorised as 'R&B' or ‘RnB’? Radio stations are also referring to it by that genre. R&B or more correctly Rhythm and Blues is music with a driving rhythm and back beat akin to rock n roll. Watered down soul it ain’t!

We call upon the faithful to gird your loins and join us in Musical Direct Action
Something I've started to do and I urge others to do the same, make a stand, and join our guerrilla war. Go into your local record shop, surreptitiously remove non RnB from that category on the shelf, and place it in a more relevant section, unfortunately shops tend not to have a section marked 'shite' so my suggestion is 'easy listening'. Next deposit real R&B in its rightful place.


If there is enough of a groundswell we might actually get record shops and the music business in general to stop using this misnomer. And even if it doesn't you've at least got the consolation of knowing that you've irritated and confused some spotty Herbert in the record shop. It’s got to be worth doing just for that.

Join us brothers and sisters. R&B needs you in its darkest hour. Help stop the misery of hapless yoof wandering around dazed, confused and under the misapprehension that worthless acts like Beyonce, Lemar, Mary J. Bilge and Nas are Rhythm and Blues. Let’s restore the true meaning, as personified by George Thorogood and the Destroyers, Dr Feelgood, The Pirates, Muddy Waters, Fats Domino, Dr John, Long John Baldry, Elmore James, Bo Diddley, Big Joe Turner, Chuck Berry, The Yardbirds and early Rolling Stones to name but a few.

Write letters of complaint. Get moving those CDs today. You know it makes sense

Thursday, 8 November 2007

Can I get?

They are just three little words. Sometimes they are preceded or followed by please, but not always. So why do they irritate so?

I’ll set the scene. You are in a restaurant, the waiter or waitress comes to your table and asks you if you are ready to order. You open your mouth, and you start the sentence with, "please can I get". What is the waiter or waitress supposed to think? Is the customer after their job? The response to the poor unfortunate retard should be that it is the job of the waiting staff to serve the customer, therefore it is the waiting person that ‘gets’. Only in a self-service establishment does the customer ‘get’. Besides customers going and getting their food from the kitchen probably contravened health and hygiene laws.

In the unlikely event that someone who uses the phrase "can I get" reads this. I say unlikely because it is the phrase of an illiterate. The correct way to ask for something from a person that is going to serve you is "please could I have" or "please may I have".

"Can I get?” A hanging offence if ever there was one!

Thursday, 1 November 2007

David Cameron Ate My Hamster

He didn't really, but I expect he will do equally nasty things to this country when he gets to Nº 10. Yes Nº 10, for it is my fear that Labour is going to lose the next election. It is so painful watching the government just piss things away like they seem to be doing. Apparently today would have been the day of the election that never happened.

Come on Gordon, get a grip, or we are fucked!



P.S. never trust the Tories with the economy because they'll take some for themselves and give the rest to their mates.