Quiet

I've just finished reading a book that was written about me.  I don't mean it was written specifically about me of course, as my memoirs are still being ghost-written (the working title is A Dish Best Served Cold), but the book I've just read is an owner's manual for how I work.

Quiet - The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking by Susan Cain, looks at the critical role that introverts play in everyday life and why, contrary to the popular opinion when I was growing up, introverts should not be encouraged to become more extrovert.

One of the most interesting things I've learned from this book is that we all, introverts and extroverts alike, need to schedule regular breaks in our day for 'Restorative Niches'.  A Restorative Niche is the time we need to do something completely in line with our personality and which  recharges our batteries. An introvert at a party feels drained at the end of the evening.  An extrovert feels just as tired by long periods of solitude and quiet. The Restorative Niche brings us back to our true selves.

My Restorative Niches are all centred on time alone or with my wife.  I need quiet and, paradoxically, I need noise.  Loud music refreshes me as much as total quiet, provided I am on my own.  An evening on my own at a Rammstein gig is my idea of heaven (even though I don't particularly like Rammstein).  An evening entertaining clients who I don't know is not.

I wish this book had been written earlier in my lifetime, because it would have helped me understand myself better.  I recommend this book for both introverts and extroverts.  And if you've got quiet children it should be a compulsory read.  There's a lot in this book about how you can help introverted children.  Not by encouraging them to be more outgoing or forcing them into situations totally at odds with their personality, but by building on their strengths and teaching them to how to live in a noisy world.  If you would like to borrow it, let me know.

Vinyl

I realised today that, sometime over the past six months, I crossed a rubicon.

I popped into to Nottingham this morning for a bit of a shop. I haven't done this for a while and, if I'm in Nottingham and the love of my life isn't with me, I tend to spend some time looking at the other love of my life in Music Exchange (flicking through the vinyl) and Fopp (buying CD albums I've already got on vinyl).

Not only did I not buy anything in these two shops, but I didn't get the buzz that, until recently, I have always had when shopping for music.  I was slightly tempted by a Winifred Atwell 10inch album which was in pristine condition and looked gorgeous, but I don't particularly like Winifred Atwell and, besides, how could I get it converted digitally so that I could listen to it in the car through my iPod?

In Fopp I needed (yes, needed) to get a copy of Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD as I realised this week that I've only got them on vinyl (there are some of you reading the last sentence thinking "why does he need more than one version of an album?" and other soul-mates that are thinking "my God! Why has he left it so long to get Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD?").  They were each £6 and the download version is £4.99.  And all I would do is to load the CDs into iTunes and they would then gather dust.

As I browsed through other Fopp stuff it occurred to me that this really doesn't have the same attraction as it once did.  I've changed, and I believe many like me have changed.  I would be very surprised if either the Music Exchange or Fopp were still in Nottingham in 10 years' time. And I would also be very surpised if I still had my turntable and my CD player.

This made me sad.  However, my mood was lifted considerably when I checked my Twitter feed while sipping a skinny decaf caramel frappuccino and eating a biscotto in Starbucks.   One of my on-line chums who knows what pushes my buttons had recommended an album of early English royal funeral music.  I downloaded it there and then and I'm listening to it now.  I've seen the future and it's digital.

Muse

The creative muse has left me.  When I started this blog there were loads of things that I needed to get off my chest, but recently I've struggled to come up with the high-quality posts my loyal readership has come to expect (a big shout out to each of my 7 followers!).

There are a few obvious subjects that still need to be addressed.  Retirement plans are never far from my mind at the moment.  I've done blogs on Bowie and the Pet Shop Boys, so The Beatles have to be next.  I also need to tell the world about my mum in the same way I did about my dad.  I've tried with each of these, but not managed to come up with the right words.  So I figure that I should leave them and, at some point, the muse will return.

Under some pressure from friends (who have been very kind about my efforts) I've started posts on topical subjects or stuff that has struck me as interesting. If I consult the detailed planning notes that I prepare in advance of each post I can tell you that you've narrowly avoided my thoughts on the following:

• The passing of the Guardian newspaper.  I've read it all of my adult life but the recent price increase to £1.40 is a step too far
• BMW and Audi drivers.  They drive too fast, too close and generally annoy me
• The fact that I have become 'asocial'.  I like people and I'm not anti-social, but I prefer my own company and that of my wife
• My hairstyles through the years.  During 2012 my hair started receding faster that the sea at Weston-Super-Mare.  I thought a tonsorial ramble down memory lane might be interesting
• The wonders of tinnitus

I'm sure I could have cobbled together a few words on any of these subjects interspersed with the occasional witty aside, but my heart wasn't in any of them.

I'm also conscious of the need for a level of 'quality control'.  Blogging is a wonderful thing, but do people really want to read that I find the Guardian a bit expensive or that I have a ringing in my ears?  This feeling is reinforced when I look at the wonderful blogs from my some of my on-line chums and, this week in particular, A Drake's Progress.

I've written it before and I'll write it again, but Carolyn's blog about her daughter who has Prader-Willi Syndrome is a thing of beauty.  Always interesting, always funny, plus you get a free video with each post. This week's post is probably one of the most moving things I've read for some time.

So, while you're waiting for me, go over there this minute.  Start with this week's post, followed by the first post and then work your way forward.  Just make sure you keep popping back here to see if my hair-loss is getting any better.

Heroes

It's been a week of contrasting surprises from two of my musical heroes.

On Tuesday, my drive to work was considerably happier than the usual gloom when I discovered that David Bowie had not just recorded new material, but released a new track earlier that morning.

I have been smitten with Bowie since he appeared on Top of the Pops singing Starman with the Spiders from Mars.  What grabbed me was a combination of his hair, his clothes and the fact that he had his arm around the lead guitarist .  And the bassist had dyed grey sideburns down to his shoulders.  How could a young man fail to be impressed?

Since he had a heart attack in the early noughties he's been keeping his head down in New York.  I'd reconciled myself to the fact that his recorded output was probably over.  It wouldn't have surprised me if this week's surprise announcement had been of a different sort and accompanied by obituaries.

But he's back.  The first track from the new album is wonderfully melancholy and I can't wait for the album in March.  Welcome back, old chap, I've missed you.

On Wednesday my 'Bowie is Alive!' joy was negated by an announcement that Wilko Johnson, former Dr. Feelgood guitarist, has terminal cancer.

Wilko is one of music's great characters.  He's funny, intelligent and has a stare that can burn woodwork.  I saw him and his band at the Lexington in Islington last year and I'm ashamed to say I was too in awe of him to say hello in the bar before he went on.

Wilko's guitar style has to be unique.  It's difficult to believe at times that one man can can play both rhythm and lead guitar at the same time.  And if that's not enough he still has the energy to scuttle across the stage whilst burning woodwork at 20 paces.

The announcement of his cancer makes no pretence that Wilko is going to come through this.  I will try to see him again if he tours, as he plans some 'farewell' gigs in the UK.  I'm sure he's not going to read this, but in case he does, I'd like to thank him for the great deal of pleasure he's given me since the 70s.  I'd also ask him to concentrate on himself and those he loves over the coming months.

Resolutions

So, another year has raced by, taking me inexorably closer to a lonely, painful death and an eternity of nothingness.

I must apologise.  I always feel a bit gloomy at this time of year.  The nights are dark, it's cold outside and I've got to go back to work tomorrow.  It's also the time when I review the resolutions I set last year and realise that, yet again, I have failed miserably.

The problem I have is that, firstly, I always resolve the same things (get fit, eat more healthily, etc.), secondly, they're always as boring as hell and lastly, they're definitely not what a management consultant would call 'SMART' (if you're not familiar with management objective setting, SMART stands for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant and Time-bound).

So I'm going to have a fresh look at my resolutions for 2013.  I'm not going to bore you with them all but as an example, 'get fit' has become 'play squash once a week plus 30 minutes exercise (running, cycling) at the weekend'.  'Eat more healthily' becomes 'only eat crisps with two meals a day (except at weekends)'.

I also have a long list of resolutions to implement at work.  I'm definitely not going to outline these here as my colleagues and other stakeholders (sorry, I'm getting a bit carried away with this management-speak) may read this blog.  Let me just say that mind-mapping is the way forward and revenge is a dish best served cold.

2012 wasn't bad for me and hopefully 2013 will be great.  I hope you and yours have a wonderful, happy and healthy 2013 and if there's anything I can do to help you achieve that, let me know.  I'd be glad to help.

2012

I notice that the 'Best Of 2012' reviews have started appearing in this weekend's papers.  I always enjoy reading what others have been watching, reading and listening to, so I thought I'd compile my own list of my 20 favourite tracks of 2012.

You will notice that this list isn't comprised of just new music from 2012.  Reading the end of year lists of some of my internet chums makes me realise how out of touch with new music I am.  I was tempted to to add some obscure dubstep cut just to impress you all or a hit from One Direction to improve my image with the kids.  But I thought, sod it, I'll just record the 20 tracks, old and new, that I have enjoyed listening to most this year.

You will note that there are only two Pet Shop Boys tracks this year for reasons explained elsewhere.  There are also few old tracks and, in particular, a few from 2011.  This is primarily because I picked up a few choice items from other people's 'Best of 2011' lists and enjoyed them during the early part of 2012 (it is highly likely that a handful of Daddy or Chips's Top 50 of 2012 will appear in next year's list).

The tracks aren't in order of preference and you will also notice that there are 21 tracks listed.  Number 21 is a wonderful piece of classical music that I've returned to over and over again, so I thought I'd add it as a postscript to my main musical selection.

Each of the tracks is linked to either YouTube, Vimeo or Soundcloud if you click on them.  In addition, all of the tracks except one are available in a Spotify playlist.  The missing track, Randy Newman's I'm Dreaming, is available as a free download from his website.

I hope you enjoy my selection and, if you've compiled your own list, I'd love to see it.

1. Elton John vs Pnau – Good Morning To The Night
2. Jessie Ware – 110%
3. The 2 Bears – Bear Hug
4. Unknown Mortal Orchestra – Swim and Sleep (Like a Shark)
5. Iron And Wine – Godless Brother In Love
6. Jake Bugg – Country Song
7. Elton John – Tiny Dancer
8. Public Enemy – Harder Than You Think
9. MFSB – Love Is The Message
10. Pet Shop Boys – Winner
11. Joe Goddard – Gabriel (feat. Valentina)
12. Phantom Limb – The Pines
13. Yusuf Azak – Smile Tactics
14. Choir Of Young Believers – Hollow Talk
15. Holland-Dozier – Why Can’t We Be Lovers
16. Ornette – Crazy - Nôze Remix
17. Monkey Maffia – I Know You N.M.S
18. I’m Dreaming – Randy Newman
19. Big Big Train – Judas Unrepentant
20. Pet Shop Boys – The Way Through the Woods 
21. Andrew Davis – Vaughan Williams : Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis

Worry

I'm one of life's worriers. I worry about anything and everything. I even worry if I don't have anything to worry about.

I type this in a hotel in Bangkok. We arrived yesterday for a holiday in Thailand and our trip from home to Bangkok hotel encapsulates how my worried mind works. Let me share my worries with you.

• I worried the cats would be too stressed going to the cattery (they weren't, and it's actually a 'Cat Hotel')
• I worried I had forgotten something that we needed to take (so far, I haven't identified anything, thanks to a much-used 'Things Nick Needs On Holiday' list that I prepared many years ago and covers every eventuality)
• I worried we would have too much to pack into our one big case (we didn't, although, as always, the shutting of the case was a challenge. Interestingly, no matter how much we put in the case, the weight always seems to be just under 25 kg)
• I worried we would be too late / too early getting to Heathrow (we weren't, thanks to a carefully planned route that gives us a stop at a services close to the M25 and 20 minutes drive to the airport)
• I worried there would be an accident on the motorway / our car would break down (there wasn't / it didn't)
• I worried our seats would be too near the toilets (they weren't. This worry has its origins in the time we flew to Sri Lanka and, two hours out of Heathrow, one of the toilets overflowed. It wasn't very pleasant and we had to turn back to the UK)
• I worried they wouldn't have a vegetarian meal for my wife (there wasn't. So a big 'hurrah!' that at least one of my worries came to fruition. Fortunately, my wife eats fish and they had a fish dish going spare)
• I worried I wouldn't sleep on the plane (I did. I always do. In fact, I had over 6 hours sleep)
• I worried we had forgotten to get a visa to enter Thailand (we didn't need a visa. I'd checked on the Thai travel website at least twice, so I knew this was the case. Still, you never know and it never hurts to worry about it)
• I worried there would be no one to meet us at Bangkok airport (there was. A nice man called Atu).

I know that sometimes my worries can seem irrational, but it's the way I am. I guess the ability to see the worst-case in a situation also helps in my world-saving role as a business continuity consultant. I've tried various techniques to address my worrying and only one thing seems to work. Tamezapam. I was given it earlier this year for some dental work I was having and it worked an absolute treat.  Not only did it stop me worrying about my dental implant it also relaxed me enough to start flirting shamelessly with the dentist's receptionist (not a wise move when the dentist's receptionist is the dentist's wife).


PS. I only posted this after we successfully returned from holiday. I was worried that someone would read this post and, realising our house was empty, break in while we were away and steal all our valuables.