Other Woman News...

I’ve been Other-Woman-less for a few weeks so I was a tad concerned when she emailed me in a panic.

Apparently she’d been training then went back to her parents’ house so that she and her sister could watch a movie and mourn the passing of tragic movie heartthrob Heath Ledger by watching one of his films.

Sadly she didn’t have one of his films so they decided to watch the musical comedy Hairspray instead. She felt very guilty about this but I told her I’m sure it’s what he would have wanted.

I paid my own respects by dressing Jake Gyllenhaal as a cowboy, dragging him into a tent in the American wilds then raping him.

I’m sure it’s what he would have wanted too…

Thoughts For The Day...

I've finished two books over the weekend.

One was The Damned United by David Peace, which is a fact-based fictional account of Brian Clough's 44-day stint in charge of Leeds United. As a fan of both Leeds and Mr Clough it was a superb read and it just got better. Poetic and moving, it was one of the best sports books I've ever read and is easily up there with All Played Out by Peter Davies, a wonderful book about Italia 90 and England's greatest footballing journey since 1966, and Playing Off The Rail by David McCumber, a book about a journalist and a pool player taking a hustling road trip across the US.

The Other was Classic FM's Friendly Guide To Classical Music. It's a book for classical music virgins but after reading it I won't feel quite so intimidated the next time I venture into the classical music bit of HMV. It's also given me some leads on composers I like the sound of who may well sound like other composers I've so far discovered on my fledgling journey in posho music land.

I also love one of the quotes in it by Finnish composer Sibelius: 'Pay no attention to what critics say. No statue has ever been put up to a critic.'

I'll remember these words the next time somebody lambasts one of my plays. It also reminds me of one of my favourite Clough quotes when a journalist was questioning one of his team selections. Clough simply turned round and said: 'And how many European Cups have you won, son?'

Sibelius and Clough. Kindred spirits I reckon...

New Words...

NINJURY (Nin-jure-ee): Noun. An injury obtained from martials art training.

ie. 'I was sparring with the Other Woman and the Other Woman Who Loves Other Women and both roundhouse kicked me at the same time and connected and it bloody hurt. Consequently my legs are bruised and swollen and I won't be able to train for a few days. It's quite an annoying ninjary.'

More Reasons To Be Cheerful…

i) I went training on Friday afternoon and I was the only student present so I had a one-on-one class with my hapkido instructor. Most people pay quite a lot of money for this privilege but by a fluke of timing I got it for free. I then went to a senior belts class on Sunday, which was fabulous too. Both were hard work but it also proved to me that I’m sometimes actually half-decent at hapkido. I just have to remember that when I attend a senior belts class in future I should remember to actually bring my belt or I can’t tie my do-bok (uniform) up.

ii) I saw Christian Slater in Swimming With Sharks at the Vaudeville Theatre and it was OK. It’s a play about a ruthless Hollywood film-maker who slowly corrupts his assistant by forcing him to choose his career over the woman he loves. It wasn’t a major piece of work but it was thoughtful and entertaining enough. A bit like the Robert Altman film The Player but without the subtlety or skillful plotting.

iii) I saw Sweeney Todd and it’s truly wonderful, in a grotesque and grisly king of way. Johnny Deep is very strong in the title role and Helena Bonham-Carter, who I’ve only ever really liked in Planet Of The Apes (and quite fancied as a chimpanzee if I’m totally honest) was amazingly good. I may even be tempted to see it again.

iv) I started reading That Damned United, a fact-based fiction book by David Peace about Brian Clough’s 44 days in charge of Leeds United. I devoured the first 100 pages in a day. It’s a fantastic book. In fact it’s quite possibly one of the best sports books I’ve ever read.

So. Lots of reasons to be cheerful this weekend. Let’s see how long it lasts...

Reasons To Be Cheerful...

I'm returning to play for Surrey, my county pool team, in a few weeks so I've been putting in some table time and I'm starting to play quite well again.

This is quite exciting as I used to be quite a good player with a couple of England trials behind me when I lived in Surrey and I was out playing with my mates two or three nights a week. But since moving to London a gradual lack of practice, motivation and a decent place nearby to play meant my form suffered a slow but inevitable decline.

But I'm now putting the table time in and I starting to play quite well again. I don't think I'll ever be the player I was at my peak but I also wouldn't sacrifice the family, the hapkido, the writing and everything else to have that sort of form back either.

In many ways it's about accepting a compromise and I think it's something a lot of pool players have to go through at some point. You just become a different type of player who uses guile and experience as much as skill to get your wins.

But then again I also knocked in a very respectable 82 at snooker last night and I'm taking decent clearances out on a pool table again so maybe it won't be too much of a compromise after all. And if I'm back in a very strong county squad that must make me half-decent.

And it does give me the excuse to spend oodles of cash on a new cue as I'm starting to have doubts about my current one.

Maybe the Missus is right and I just needs things to obsess over...

Odds And Sods...

Some of my friends think I'm a bit odd. In fact my wife and my boy think I'm a bit odd too. But I've since realised there are many odder folk than me and I now know there always have been.

And that's because I'm currently reading an excellent book called Victorian Sensation by Michael Diamond which covers all manner of grisly spectacle and sex scandal, including the infamous Oscar Wilde trial and several murders, in 19th-century England.

It's a fabulous book and it's providing me with some good background ideas for when I start rewrites on my play about Victorian prostitution. It's also given me several interesting facts: for example, did you know that the novelists William Makepeace Thackeray and Charles Dickens both campaigned against the death penalty after seeing public hangings in London? Me neither but I do now.

My favourite bit so far, though, concerns several newspaper reporters who wrote about hanged women and commented on their sexual attraction as they swung from the gallows. One even suggested that one murderess named Maria Manning looked so alluring in her black satin death dress that it triggered a fashion trend and a demand for the material.

Now that's quite odd. And I know because I'm an expert...

On Cue...

The Missus has put up with my obsessive compulsive behaviour for many years and even the Boy now refuses to get irked by my anal retentive ways.

In fact these days he rather lovingly refers to me as 'OCD freak boy'. This may seem cruel but it is a distinct improvement on him running off to his room screaming 'Don't let the strange man near me, mummy!' which hasn't happened for several months now.

But I fear I am in the foothills of a new mania because I've started to get interested in old snooker cues, particularly Riley Tombstone cues. I first saw one of these when I started playing at about 14 and ever since I have thought they were one of the most beautifully and simply designed things I've ever seen.

So I've decided I'm going to buy one and I'm regularly scouring eBay to secure a purchase. I've even contact a few cue dealers and, even worse, I've learnt one of my mates used to buy and restore old cues – until his missus suggested he could sell most of them and find a better use for the money.

But I fear I'm now unwittingly drawing him back in and we'll eventually be like two dirty old men but instead of secretly swapping pornography we'll be swapping cue information and eBay sightings without the knowledge of our wives. And we'll each probably have a special cupboard for our buys...

Marital subterfuge. I don't think we'll be very good at it...

Happy New Year!

I hate going out on New Year’s Eve. It’s amateur drinkers hour where twats who don’t use pubs throughout the year decide to ruin it for those of us who do use them.

As our Xmas was also somewhat spoilt by the inconsiderate fucks next door it’s not been the best of Yuletide breaks but me, the Missus and the Boy ignored our two days of sonic hell and made the best of it by generally chilling out.

Myself and the Missus also made a list of goals for 2008 and, besides the things we need to do to the house and things we want to do together, there were things we want to do for ourselves.

Besides a few writing projects and returning to county pool, my list was going to include lots of hapkido goals but this particular list was cut short after I reread Bob Breen’s book Fighting.

Breen runs a successful martial arts academy in London and he’s a Jeet Kune Do specialist who’s also trained in several other styles. But Fighting emphasises the fundamental tools used by most martial artists in a systematic and thorough manner. It’s a wonderful book and consequently my hapkido list simply became one sentence: Don’t worry about learning anything new and revisit all the basics.

So that’s what I’ve been doing over the past few days in the garden and plan to do throughout the rest of the year.