Blog 91: THE Moment!

“When you realise you’ve found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with…you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible” Billy Crystal as Harry in the movie “When Harry Met Sally”.

It’s New Years Eve. He’s done everything that should be fun and none of it is. So he goes for a walk. Somewhere on this walk his mind turns to ‘Her’. The more he thinks about her the more his walk turns into a run. It has dawned on him. Over a decade in the process and he now knows it for a fact… they were NEVER friends. He can’t run fast enough, in fact no mode of transport is fast enough. It is the ultimate run. He has to get to her by the stroke of midnight. Late but ever hopeful, he arrives where she is, gate crashes her party … but she’s not that receptive. She asks: Why are you here?..Why NOW?..Why is this all about you all the time…Jeez! After all this time couldn’t this wait for a better moment! Then he delivers that line.

That killer line… that bloody line that imparts the wisdom that once you realise you’ve found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you have to tell them straight away, the moment the realisation dawns, not because it’s all about you but because if they feel the same way why waste anymore time?

DAMN YOU HARRY MET SALLY!!!

You have no idea how much that last sentence hurt. When Harry Met Sally was the 1980’s most important comedy. We had to wait till 1989 for it… but it was worth waiting a whole decade to see Rob Reiner’s masterpiece that just told it as it is. No one writes a script like Nora Ephron….it was touching, it was hilarious but above all it was honest. Men loved it, Women loved it. The media loved it. I recall the review in the Sunday Telegraph saying “If you don’t enjoy this film ask someone to check your pulse, you may be dead”. Over twenty years later it remains one of the most quoted movies, and despite being made in the decade that taste forgot has not become dated and still gets audiences. Over all this is one of my all time favourite movies…so to say DAMN YOU to this movie…means that something has happened in Jax World and yes, Harry Met Sally is to blame.

I don’t know why, but Men in particular have a problem with understanding that movies are not real. The whole concept that lines belong in a script kind of missed them.

In a movie, there is a plot. Because of this it doesn’t really matter that it takes Harry 11 years to realise that Sally is the love of his life. Because THAT was the only place the movie could go. Nora Ephron wrote it that way. It starts with the pronouncement that Men and Women cannot be friends. It shows us that they can’t be friends because men and women are so different, then we travel for over a decade through a ‘friendship’ and arrive back where we started proving that men and women can’t be friends but this time because they need each other.

BUT IT’S A MOVIE.

You try running though the streets of any major city on New Years Eve, you try gate crashing a party (esp. while inappropriately dressed), you try finding ANY woman who would be receptive to the idea that it’s now okay despite the hurt and rejection that he has processed your relationship and decided “It’s YOU…It was always YOU”

Ummmmm……… NO! Not happening.

At least not in JaxWorld… at least NOT at 2.45am. Not when there has been silence for a couple of years, not when wounds have been licked healed and we thought everyone has moved on.

Ever had one of those days when you just want it to end?

Yesterday started with a threat from a government department, continued into a fine from the local library, segued into an extortionate transport fine, continued into an over priced taxi ride and ended with burnt pizza.

I tried to make it better by watching series one of “Gavin and Stacey” on DVD… but even that didn’t help. So I remade my bed with freshly laundered sheets and called it a night.

Sleep is precious to me as I don’t get much of it. I sleep on average for 3-4 hours, however when emotional exhausted I’ve been known to get a good 6 or 7 … and man after the day I’d had, I was ready for the big sleep.

Of course, when you reach a certain age – you can’t unplug or turn off land lines and mobiles as there are a zillion reasons why you may need to be contacted in the wee hours. However, amongst us grown ups there is a kind of watershed in place. 10am-9pm is agreed as general opening hours for chit-chat. 9pm – 12am is kind of tolerated for calls of a more pressing nature. Impairment damaged calls (i.e.: drunken) can be forgiven if made before 1am. But if either phone rings after 1am it is taken that an emergency has occurred. (Though I’d go one further… you’d better be Police, Ambulance or Fire Brigade as bloody hell…CAN’T IT WAIT???!!!)

But no. It couldn’t wait. For him 02.48… was the exact moment when it dawned on him that it’s true… men and women cannot be friends, that it wasn’t a friendship after all... that she should know that he has realised something and she should hear it RIGHT NOW!

At 02.48 this morning, after years of ‘friendship’, road-trips, and long haul holidays had turned into betrayals, rejection, hurt and finally silence… THAT was the time to do a “Harry”.

At 02.48 that is when it was judged the moment to let me know the moment he knew.

At 02.48.

In life, unlike in a movie… life goes on. Whilst our hero makes his mind up that only our heroine will do… she’s not awaiting him for her next cue. Life goes on. I had not spoken to him for years. I can’t help wondering why, of all the many moments of time that made up all those years, why on earth twelve minutes before three on Sunday morning is the moment. The moment when I get told. What on earth was I supposed to say at 02.48??

When you are awoken at 02.48, unlike a movie, there are no words pre written in a script to deliver.

I’m afraid life is not a movie. In a movie… 02.48 is a romantic gesture. In real life a call at 02.48 is an annoyance.

I would have thought given the intelligence of the person concerned that no one would need a scriptwriter to predict that calling at 02.48 to tell someone whose life you exited years ago that you love them was never gonna be a scene that plays out well.

But I’ll leave real life to your imagination. But given he thinks life is a movie….I think I’ll just hand over to Nora Ephron’s brilliant script…

Harry Burns: Would you like to have dinner?... Just friends.

Sally Albright: I thought you didn't believe men and women could be friends.

Harry Burns: When did I say that?

Sally Albright: On the ride to New York.

Harry Burns: No, no, no, I never said that... Yes, that's right, they can't be friends. Unless both of them are involved with other people, then they can... This is an amendment to the earlier rule. If the two people are in relationships, the pressure of possible involvement is lifted... That doesn't work either, because what happens then is, the person you're involved with can't understand why you need to be friends with the person you're just friends with. Like it means something is missing from the relationship and why do you have to go outside to get it? And when you say "No, no, no it's not true, nothing is missing from the relationship," the person you're involved with then accuses you of being secretly attracted to the person you're just friends with, which you probably are. I mean, come on, who the hell are we kidding, let's face it. Which brings us back to the earlier rule before the amendment, which is men and women can't be friends.

DAMN YOU HARRY MET SALLY!!!

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about JaxWorld blog please log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for voting for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff in the 2009 Blogger Choice Awards and for all your support that has made this blog such a success.

BLOG 90: Goes fast, smells nice

"the incessant witless repetition of advertisers moron-fodder has become so much a part of life that if we are not careful, we forget to be insulted by it"

The London Times (1886)

Is it just me or are adverts for cars and perfume in particular really ridiculous?

I’m not expecting brands to say “Buy our car… It goes fast” or “Buy our perfume…it smells nice”. I do get it, these are lifestyle brands and the point of an advert is to pitch you a lifestyle.

I’m open to advertising. I like the idea that someone is prepared to create an image in order to seduce me into a lifestyle.

I like most people I get it that different products or services give off clues as to my way of life. Or more to the point give off clues to a way of life I’d like to be associated with.

I also get the rubbish made up benefits of some products… “it’s intense taste takes you to another place”… oh really?! I for one would HATE to bite into chocolate and end up in Bolivia, but I get that what the chocolatier was trying to suggest.

What I don’t get is why when it comes to selling us a car or a perfume the adverts become totally ridiculous.

What the hell happens in the creative departments of ad agencies when they get a commission for one of these products? Is the ink on the rather large cheque causing some kind of solvent abuse?

What am I supposed to make of these adverts?

How about the one where the car is represented by series of moving neon lit boxes… why? I don’t know. Or the one where a series of girls lovingly filmed in black and white shuffle to the left then right then back again carrying a large perfume bottle… why? Still unclear.

Seriously… who the hell understands these ads?

Is it just me or do other people sit in front of their TV’s and say… WTF???!!

Will someone tell these creative types that the adverts should be about shifting product and not about them picking up awards?

I find it infuriating that the image makers get so far away from the product no one has a clue what the hell is going on. Tell me what the product is and what it’ll do for me… is that TOO much to ask!

How hard can it be to make me want to buy into an aspirational lifestyle… associate the product with wealth, vitality, sex, power, talent, humour.

Movies have always been a great sources of inspiration. You’d imagine the creatives would have a blast making adverts in this vein.

Aston Martin makes a lot of its association with James Bond… they don’t have to even say it, just any guy in a dinner jacket parking up by a casino. Okay we all don’t have £90K for a basic model car… but who wants to buy into some of the car images we have on our TV’s lately. Vauxhall tried to do Oceans 11… and managed to bombard me with random images that don’t tell a story or sell me car. (However I did like the girls gold dress… but I think that wasn’t the point!)

Chanel No. 5 makes a lot of its association with Marilyn Monroe… after the movie icon of all time said that that scent was all she wore to bed, it was kind of a done deal that No. 5 was sexy. Okay they spent £18million pounds on reinforcing the message with Nicole Kidman… but simply being a huge designer won’t be enough to stop your advert being rubbish. Film star or no… Sienna Miller using a bottle of Hugo Boss as a mobile phone does little more than convince me that one spurt of agent ‘Orange’ sends you demented. (However I did like the chair she was bouncing on… but again I don’t think they were trying to sell that!)

It’s all getting a bit tiring trying to break the code of what on earth we are supposed to think these products will do for us.

Just for once… I’d like a perfume advert that implies if I wear the scent I’ll be more interesting and sexy than I already am…. And I’d like a car ad that implies the same.

OH… and if they mention that the car goes fast and the perfume smells nice that’d help greatly too.

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about JaxWorld blog please log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for voting for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff in the 2009 Blogger Choice Awards and for all your support that has made this blog such a success.

BLOG 89: So you have MORE!

“Love the whole world as a mother lovers her only child.” Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.

Well it’s half term and quite frankly… TGIF!!!

Schools shut last Friday, and I think I have seen the entire neighbourhood’s kids in the seven days that have past. Unfortunately I’ve been seeing them in my house. It’s not like they break in… they are good kids. I blame the parents.

You know what… when it came to being a family, I like a zillion women before me since Marie Stopes made it possible for us to choose, I chose a number.

And that number was ONE.

Being a parent means creating a loving, safe environment for someone who thinks it is their right and won’t be in a hurry to say thanks. From baby to toddler, right through to the teenage years and beyond.. you will be called on. Oh by the way, you’ll need different skills for each stage, but at all times that child will depend on you… you have to get it right on the first take. Kind of from day one you are the expert on that child and on what they need to grow into happy, healthy adults.

I always knew I would be incapable of being able to get such an important job right if I was going to have to do it for multiple kids.

And I have to admit… it was the right choice for me.

I never quite believed my parents when they said they loved all three of their offspring the same… I couldn’t see how that could be possible given the raw material!! There was always some drama on going with one or other of my siblings, I learnt early to queue. Not an un-useful life skill… sometimes by not being able to get immediate feedback you gain time to get perspective and also time to decide NOT to share at all. But I feel through no fault of their own there were large portions of my early life that went unshared simply because someone else got in first.

So I chose a number that was right for me. Right for the kind of parent I wanted to be. I chose a number… and that number was ONE.

I wanted to do the whole journey with my offspring I didn’t want to compare my child at 12 to my previous child at 12. . I didn’t want to have to choose X’s recital over Y’s Play. I wanted everything to be unique to that one child and to me. I wanted to pay full attention to a life I had helped make.

I figured I could achieve this with one.

Of course I knew I would be flying in the face of convention by doing this. I knew that I would be called selfish. I knew that people would insist that I have multiple children in order to create in house company. I knew that it is considered bizarre to have less than two offspring .

However, due to the fact I was not expecting my critics to raise my child… I couldn’t have given a fig! Siblings are not always a joy… just think about all the people who don’t get along with their siblings, or hate their siblings, or don’t talk to their siblings or swear that their life would be so much better if they didn’t have to deal with their siblings. Last I checked, sibling love isn’t guaranteed…so I couldn’t see what the heck that had to do with anything. The point was how many I thought I was capable of raising to the standard of a job done to the best of my ability. Figuring out how many kids to have is an extremely personal process...I knew I wad perfectly able to weigh up what was right for me.

So I went ahead with my decision and even was greatly assisted by the medical profession when they declared I couldn’t have anymore anyway. Thus the critics learnt to hush up… and I was left to get on with it.

I have to admit that it has proven to be the one job I totally excel at. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I am a pretty fabulous mother. I’m stretched no further than I can handle and I know that I am the expert on that child and on what my offspring needs to grow into happy, healthy adult. HA HA!!... I rock at something!!!

But guess what!

Remember those people who were poised to be my critics?

They got their revenge.

People who have more than one child feel it is somehow a service to me to dump their kids on me.

They kindly send their offspring to you for hours…if not days at a time… ostensibly ‘to keep your poor lonely child company’.

BULL SHIT!!!

Parents of more than one child are never at one stage of child rearing… they flit back and forth between the needs of a toddler, a preteen, and a young adult, turning a blind eye to behaviour they haven’t the time to deal with, seldom having the time to sit and discuss the past, the present, or the future, being pulled by demands and conflicting personalities. Often older siblings find themselves with duties of parent-in-lieu simply because there is only so far any human can be stretched.

So what better a way to gain enough quiet to hear themselves think than actively solicit the parents of ONE.

Of course to ensure they don’t feel bad about the fact that they are palming their responsibilities off on someone else… they have to make that someone else feel as if it is they that are at fault. So they trot out the list:

BECAUSE YOU SELFISHLY ONLY HAD ONE CHILD THAT POOR MITE WILL BE

· Spoilt

· Over-protected

· Egocentric

· Lacking in independence

· Lacking in social skills

But have no fear… they have a solution!!!!

Have their child… in fact take two of their children…oh don’t worry about what time they need to come home… tell you what…how about a sleep over!! It’s a wrench for them to part with the fruit of their loins… but it’s all for the selfless best of my poor child who has no siblings. Of course I have take up these offers of peer company, there is only so many times you can offer up the proven fact that statistically only children are slightly more likely to succeed academically and in the workplace than those encumbered with siblings without sounding defensive.

I know that I’m being taken advantage off… I know that having dumped their offspring on me the parents are whooping with joy, and drinking champagne in the hot-tub. But there is always a kernel of doubt when you do the parent gig. You always doubt, even in the face of compelling evidence, that you are getting it right.

Apparently I NEED to have these extra children to prevent my child turning out rotten. Their parents sent their kids over with just this one selfless mission in their heart.

Like I said… it’s Friday. The last day of half term.

I have had over ten children under my care this week. And yeah… my offspring doesn’t seem to be suffering from classic only child syndrome. So who knows… maybe it helps.

But there is just one little nagging doubt. It always comes on when ever I drop those kids back. Their parents always seem to have a champagne bottle or two awaiting recycling.

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about JaxWorld blog please log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for voting for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff in the 2009 Blogger Choice Awards and for all your support that has made this blog such a success.

BLOG 88: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.” Robert Fulghum, author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Sleeping is the new drug. Well according to my GP it is.

It may just be because our beleaguered National Health System is terribly underfunded and the docs have been told to stop writing prescriptions for fatigue pills, or it may just be that there is a grain of truth in the latest medical recommendations, but be prepared folks… your local doc will no longer be doling out the pick me ups!

Believe it or not, my local GP, Dr Bhluhud (yup that really IS pronounced Blood… cool huh) wrote me a prescription for power napping.

He claims all my symptoms will be gone in a week if I follow the programme. Oh but before you even think it, I better burst your hopeful bubble. It’s not just a case of going back to bed, there are rules.

And the rules must be followed to the letter if one is even remotely anticipating a cure.

The first rule is I am not allowed to get under the duvet.

Secondly, there must not be absolute silence.

Thirdly, I can only nap for half an hour.

And fourthly, it must be between 2pm and 4pm.

Dr Bhluhud says this method of recharging the body is medically proven and has had a long history of success. Clinical trials have shown that the brief power nap generally improves mental attitude and aptitude. Results prove that after a 30 minute power nap, vigilance is much increased, the functions of the brain are improved and the reflexes work much better. Taking a power nap improves the levels of cortisol in the blood enough to make us feel energised. And all without drugs!

Of course like anything in the 21^st Century, it has celebrity endorsements… but unusually they seem to be in the main from folk who aren’t actually in it… like Napoleon Bonaparte, John F Kennedy, Leonardo da Vinci and Winston Churchill. Apparently, prescription power napping invigorates and stimulates the body and spirit. All the celebrity endorsers state in their diaries how after a power nap they awoke with a clean memory and a refreshed mind.

So, who am I to argue with the whole medical profession, three world leaders and a painter! True I was hoping for a sick note and a bottle of quick fix, but what they hey…may as well give the thing a go.

Okay, first thing is to find somewhere to do this. Now this is where working from home becomes a problem. When it comes to my bed… my duvet is calling. But rule one says no duvet. There is no way I can lie on my bed without being tempted to slip into its warm embrace. So that’s my bed out of the frame.

I could try the sofa… but in my wisdom I bought two sofas. Now this doesn’t sound like a problem… it sounds like double the choice... but not in JaxWorld. You see I HATE armchairs, they are by nature built for solo occupancy… and I hate to sit alone when at leisure. Of course the classic British style is to have one 4 seater sofa and 2 armchairs. Seating for 6 or seating for 2 plus space for 1 person to lounge at length. British living rooms are designed to accommodate this national peculiarity. So to get around this I bought two three seater sofas. They look fab... they fit the room… but neither are long enough to fully recline on. So that is the sofa out of the frame.

Problem solved… I shall use the guest bedroom. The bed is the right length and the duvet is not my personal comfort blanket.

Besides... the prescription says that I must not slip into REM. Apparently if you get into deep sleep (REM), you run the risk of having difficulties waking up within the prescribed time and when you manage to wake up you will end up with a headache and bad mood. No chance of that in the guest room. That room has the perfect location for light sleep. It’s the opposite of my cosy bedroom, being large, overlooking a busy main road and is in the extension to the house so has a quite hollow feel to it. (Ha Ha!... don’t come and stay at Jax‘s if you want deep slumber!)

So that’s location sorted… what next?

Put some soft music in the background.

Ah.

Not a great one for soft music. But apparently London’s Burning by the Clash is not conducive to power napping. What do I have that has 30 minutes of soft music? 4000 albums later and practically everything has a rock or dance beat! Ahhhhh…. EUREKA!!! In a box in the garage look what I found… a box of useless Valentines gifts. (Sorry Fellas but pluhease do you know me at all?) Here it is…Michael Bublé. Now then you don’t get softer than that!!!

Next… Clean atmosphere… (easy… non smoking indoors and the aroma of my bacon butty has long passed…tick)…. Set room to room temperature… (easy… central heating on…tick)…Darken room or wear eyeshades… (easy…can’t spend two decades ping ponging across the Atlantic without a nice collection of airline eye masks…tick)

Now then… what next? Turn of all interruptions (easy…mobile off, plug out land line). Set timer for 30 minutes (easy… cooking timer clicked into position).

Final instruction…. “Before entering your power nap zone try to free up your mind from any thoughts. Focus your thought on something you enjoy.”

Okay… anyone else notice a contradiction in that instruction?

Right, stop being pedantic and think of something I enjoy… Ermmm… Holidays?…Greece?… Yup…Sivota, when we chartered a yacht… crystal blue waters… great company… Okay I’m ready to enter the power nap zone!

Stick on Mr Bublé… lie down, put on shades…think of Greece…

And…….

… it’s back to seeing Dr Bhluhud. I’m still fatigued.

I power napped alright. But when I woke up… I was suffering a migraine and the foulest of tempers.

Dr Bhluhud was keen to try again as he swears by power napping as a cure. Having discussed the matter with the other docs in the practice they have put my reaction down to one of two things… either I’d drank too much caffeine before my power nap (bless him; he admits to forgetting to point out that one must lower ones caffeine intake before attempting the treatment).. or it could just be an adverse reaction to Bublé… they’ve all seen that one before apparently!

So… take two.

Coffee free. Canadian crooner back in his box in the garage. On the bed in the spare room. Central heating ensuring the temperature is just right. Kitchen timer set for thirty. Classic Fm playing softly. British Airways eye mask on. And………zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Woke up when the bell went… felt a little disorientated so just sat down relaxed for 5 minutes before standing up. Then I got up put some water on my face, drank a glass while I was at it, then went out in the fresh air of the back garden for a while.

I hate to admit it… it worked. My named for a vampire medial quack was right! No fatigue. No drugs necessary!

In fact I felt darn right perky!!! So much so, that I raced through everything I had to do for the rest of the day… in just a couple of hours.

Which of course left me with time on my hands. And you know that Jax just will never be bored… so I found something productive to do. We all know that caffeine can interrupt sleep patterns, so that’s no biggy, clearly the National Health are doing a great job promoting power naps as my experience shows. But feeling alert, dynamic and ready to contribute productively to society I did find a little something to get my teeth into…

Which was just a little presentation for 143 Records explaining why it may be wise for them to pop a sticker on one of their artistes albums… “Warning Michael Bublé may be hazardous to your health”!

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about JaxWorld blog please log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for voting for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff in the 2009 Blogger Choice Awards and for all your support that has made this blog such a success.