Happy Birthday God

Today would have been Lemmy Kilmister’s 75th birthday. He was a legend in his own life time, the only true God of rock and an important influence on me.

Music has always had a role in my life and, as a very young man, with very few friends, and almost no social skills, Motorhead were the first band that I discovered by myself.

No matter how much my musical tastes have changed, and will continue to change in the future, Motorhead have, and will continue to, always remain my all time favourite band.

Lemmy was always a big part of that, he just wanted to play rock n roll. He lived his life and played his music, he did it his way, whether it made money or not and that is something that deserves respect.

For me he seemed to embody the spirit of being your own person and, as long as you’re not hurting anyone else, doing what you want. Growing up as the weird outsider, that perceived attitude really spoke to me.

I’m not going to say that Lemmy made me the man I am today, because that’s simply not true, but he definitely affected me. The attitude I perceived him to have inspired, and continues to inspire, me and give me pause for thought. In a world where everyone, and everything, is constantly telling you how to think and feel, the ability to think to yourself “what would I do?” is an important one and I feel like Lemmy played a major role in teaching me that.

Happy Birthday!

The Midnight Rambler Rambles At Midnight

It's 1:30 in morning and I'm topping up the bath with hot water for the second time. I don't really have anything to say, but I felt like it was the right time to write something, so here I am chatting absolute shit into the void.

I do love a long, very long, soak in a hot bath, especially when I know that I have no reason to get out of bed in the morning. Candles lit, lights off, incense burning, a selection of beverages and an audiobook playing in the background, it's absolute bliss.

Today was my last day at work until the new year. With all the shit that's been going on I kind of forgot to use my holidays and if you don't use them then you lose them.

To be honest I kind of like using my days off at this time of year. Work is winding down, because of the bad weather, so I know that I won't be going back to a shit storm and it means I get a decent amount of time to enjoy the festive season at home.

I'm kind of hoping things ease up enough for me to risk visiting my parents and dropping off a few gifts for them, my siblings and my nieces. We're not a religious family, though some people I consider family lean towards the pagan side, but we all still celebrate Christmas. I know my parents will have the old family Christmas tree up in the bay window and I know that there will be a small pile of gifts sitting under it. I know my mum will still insist on cooking a huge turkey, even if it is just the two of them this year. I know that if I wanted them to they'd still set a place for me, even though it's been years since I last came home for Christmas. 

We might not see eye to eye and I don't talk to them much, I visit them even less, but I do love my parents and sometimes I even miss them. The house they live in has been the family home since I was 4 years old and that was a very long time ago. I hope it will continue to be the family home for many years to come, though I guess only time will tell.

When my previous relationship broke down I, and as much of my stuff as a car could carry, moved back in with them and, even though I no longer live there, a good chunk of my stuff is still in my old room. I know that I'll have to collect it one day, but I hope that it's by choice and not by necessity.

I kind of amass stuff, some of it potentially useful, some of it potentially collectable, some of it potentially interesting and probably most of it just tat. Because I'm never particularly sure which stuff belongs in which category I generally keep all of it, that means that I have a lot of stuff, spread over a lot of different places, and, because some of it genuinely is useful, but isn't necessarily were I need it at the time, I have quite a lot of duplicates. One day I'll get around to sorting it out and actually make use of my eBay account for a change.

I guess I'm rambling, it's now 2 in the morning, I've just finished smoking my pipe and I'm currently topping up my bath for the third time. I could probably ramble on some more, but I know most people won't read this and those that do probably got bored a while ago. I should probably sign off, finish up my drinks and make my way to bed… good night.

Dirty Old Creep

Apparently being in your mid 30’s makes you old and creepy. It really does sneak up on you, I never even noticed it happen.

To be honest I still feel like I’m mostly the same person as I was in my mid 20’s, I still have mostly the same interests, I’m still learning, I’m still evolving, my tastes are still expanding and if anything I’m actually fitter and healthier now than I was then.

The difference seems to be other people’s perceptions of me. Then, when I was hanging around in book shops, game stores, music shops, toy stores or just browsing film/comic/band merchandise, I was a harmless guy doing nerdy stuff and people largely ignored me. Now, when I’m being just as harmless and doing exactly the same thing, I’m seen as some old weirdo having a mid life crisis.

Just before all this covid malarkey kicked off, I was in a local book shop, flicking through a couple of graphic novels, and I overheard two women, that looked like they weren’t any younger than me, talking, far too loudly not to be heard, about “that big, hairy, old guy over by the comics” and how “he must be some kind of freak trying to hit on young girls”. As I was the only other person in the shop, and being a big, hairy, old guy, they were clearly talking about me. I just ignored them, made my purchase and left the store, but what they said kinda hurt and it really stuck with me. When did still having interests, and being a little childish, as an adult become a bad thing? Why does it mean that I have to have some kind of sinister motive? Can’t I just be an adult that enjoys nerdy things? And why, just because I’m a man and still enjoy those things, does it make me some kind of lecherous perve?

On the upside, being a bit older does mean that my beard is thicker and more majestic than ever, even if there is an awful lot of white hair in there.