Boy From The Shire

Sweden

2012-01-03T07:19:00.000-08:00

This morning I remembered something that I had tried my best to forget. It happened about three-and-a-half years ago, and today was my first recollection of it, so I had been quite successful.

It was the summer of 2008 and I was part of a 5-person team that went on a speaking trip to Sweden. There was a big Christian conference happening and I had to give a seminar on 'Movies & Storytelling'.

As we were the visiting speakers, the Swedish team wanted us to take part in a 'chat show' on the Friday night. Every Swedish person we spoke to were very excited about this idea. Apparently the chat show was something that happened every year and the guy who hosted it was 'absolutely hilarious'. So we agreed.

We went to the big hall where it was taking place and there were literally hundreds of people crammed in to watch. The host was already sitting down in his seat on the stage and, although not being able to follow most of what he was saying due my Swedish being weak, it was clear that he was a hit. The crowd were laughing hysterically.

Then it came for myself and two other members of the team to go up on stage and be interviewed. We got up and, thankfully, the host spoke to us in English. As the interview went on both the team and the crowd got into it more and more. I remember the host saying something about how, typically, the English are quite reserved. He mentioned that we didn't show our love very much. I asked the crowd if that were true (yes, I engaged the crowd directly), and they all yelled back in the affirmative.

Now I have seen my fair share of 'Friday Nights with Jonathan Ross' to know how to get the crowd involved, so, I thought I'd try and prove them wrong… by jumping on the interviewer's lap and giving him a hug.

Yes, this did happen.

As I did this with quite a lot of comic force, I heard an audible intake of breath from the crowd. 'They're not used to someone being so maverick', I thought to myself. I then addressed the interviewer and crowd, by saying, 'How about that? Is that showing enough love for you? My goodness, you're not a very comfortable seat - you need to work up your leg muscles a bit'.

There were a couple of laughs, but not as many as I expected. I returned to my seat and, soon after, the interview ended and I walked back to my seat. 'That went VERY well", I thought.

The next day as I was walking through the conference hall I saw the interviewer again… pushing himself along in his wheelchair with a very apparent condition of cerebral palsy in his legs.

Foot in Mouth Syndrome

2011-12-20T02:41:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd fill you in on a couple of clangers I've dropped this last week... very awkward... not quite sure what's wrong with me.

1. Saturday - I was at a 'freelancers' Christmas pub dinner'. There was about 20 people there, I knew about 5. The conversation was drying up at my end of the table and it started to get awkward. My friend Neil was there, and in an attempt to liven things up, said, 'Let's play that game where you have to either take a letter away or add a letter to a famous movie title to make it sound like something completely different'. He gave the example of 'The Spy Who Loved Men' - it was very funny. People laughed. Jumping on the back of this, I piped up -- all excited like -- and said, 'Oh yeah, I played this game on Twitter - I came up with 'The C*nt Of Monte Cristo!' Silence. More silence. Pain. Disaster. Dinner was ruined.

2. Monday - My friend Tom's Birthday dinner. After we ate, someone tapped their glass and asked him to give a little speech. He gets up, all embarrassed, and says a few words. An American friend present then said, 'So, tell us about the day of your birth - do you know the story at all? Did your parents ever tell you how it unfolded?' Jumping on the back of this, I very loudly said, 'Yeah, come on - tell us about the moment your mother's vagina opened like a flower and you came into the world'. Silence. More silence. Friend was truly insulted. Utter utter disaster.

My Love Actually

2011-06-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

Was just flicking through my DVD collection and saw my copy of Love Actually.

I'm not going to watch it tonight. But I am going to write down which people I'd like to see get together in a real life version.

MY LOVE ACTUALLY:

Who: Princess Eugenie / Paul Merson
They meet: Halfords

Who: Rihanna / Peter Beardsley
They meet: University Challenge Semi-Finals

Who: Condoleezza Rice / Rupert Grint
They meet: Tar Barrels, Devon

Who: Fergie (Black Eyed Peas) / John Prescott
They meet: Greggs, Kidderminster

Who: J.K. Rowling / Usher
They meet: Beach front, Minehead

Who: Olivia Newton John / Nick Griffen
They meet: Megabus: Bristol to Rochdale

Who: Whitney Houston / Robbie Cultrane
They meet: Cabinet Room, The White House

Who: Sue Barker / Haley Joel Osment
They meet: Nandos, King's Cross

Who: Lindsay Lohan / Trevor Brooking
They meet: The New Forrest

Who: Pam Ayres / Ludacris
They meet: Sierra Cosworth Convention

Who: Celine Dion / Jeremy Kyle
They meet: Leigh Dellamere Service Station

I could do this all night...

'Talent'

2009-09-06T07:11:00.001-07:00

I was at a wedding yesterday.

The groom is a successful actor, and during the reception, a middle-aged lady came up to me:

LADY: 'I'm sorry...I was hoping someone would introduce us...I'm the groom's agent...'

I began to get excited, but she continued:

LADY: 'I saw you earlier and thought that you have such a great look...for comedy. You have a real humourous face'.

ME: '...Uh huh...'

I tried to salvage some pride:

ME: 'Oh, well...someone actually said the other day that I looked like that David Tennant Dr Who guy...'

LADY: 'Oh no, definitely not, he is yummy...'

She wants to come and see me when I do my stand up.

...Back in the Shire

2009-08-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

WARNING: This blog contains information of a sensitive nature.

So I went to Somerset for the week, and seeing as I haven't got round to actually registering with an NHS doctor in the four years that I've lived in London, I thought I'd make the most of the practice that I was still a member of and get something checked out.

When I was away in Canada, the immense heat irritated a sweat rash that I had developed around my inner thighs. That's a nice way of saying my testicles. Bollocks. Nuts. It's been quite painful, so I wanted to see if they could give me some 'jockey itch cream', as my friend calls it.

I arrived. Smiled. And the lady led me towards a room. It wasn't the usual room that I go to, and I soon realised why, when the lady said, 'your doctor's ill today, so you'll be seeing a stand-in, okay?'

...right...

The lady opened the door to reveal the most gorgeous young doctor in the history of medicine. To which I said out loud...'oh for fff...'

She must have just graduated from med-school because she was definitely younger than I. There was a second when we looked into each others eyes. She didn't know what was coming. I bloody well did.

So I sat, and she asked me what the problem was. I wanted to say 'your age and beauty, sweet cheeks' but didn't.

I told her the issue I was having with my bollock n thigh. We both knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the big question came, although, bless her heart, she did try to fill the time with some ridiculous questions just to prolong.

And then....

...'Do you mind if I take a look?'

...'No, be my guest(!)'

...'Oooh, impressive!' (she may not have said those exact words)

I bent over and, at one point, remember lifting one leg slightly off the ground. I looked like a dog relieving itself.

But she gave me some cream and it's actually doing the trick.

Bridgy

2009-08-11T15:17:00.000-07:00

I'm back in Somerset for the week.

What's the thing I miss most about living here?

Hard choice, but I think it has to be the pet cat that does the most disgracefully smelly farts.

Taglines

2009-08-07T14:28:00.000-07:00

I had to blog about this thing I saw today.

Everywhere you look in London, you will see advertisements for the latest movies being shown in cinemas across the capital. These movies will always have a picture of the star, the title of the film in BIG PRINT, and then at the bottom you will have a tag line describing the film in a snappy short sentence.

Nothing makes my blood curdle more than tag lines. Not just because they shorten a two hour experience into a 10 word sentence to cater for the world's decreasing attention span, but because 90 per-cent of the one's I read are so ludicrously uncreative, I wonder if the marketing company have a dribbling Labrador locked away in a darkened room that they bring out whenever it's time to write a new one.

But the one I read today surely has to be the worst in the long and glorious history of cinema. It's for the new G.I. Joe movie.

Get ready...

Here we go...

'When all else fails....they won't'

What. The hell. Is that?

2009-08-05T06:20:00.000-07:00

Slowly but surely, I am returning to normality.

My transition back into London life wasn't helped by a trip to my favourite Starbucks. We've been together (on and off) for six years now, and she understands my frustrations as much as anyone.

I walked in to discover that the place had been completely redecorated, and held none of its former glory.

But I'm feeling better now. No doctor needed, which is not what I thought a couple days back.

Blighty

2009-08-01T14:31:00.000-07:00

I flew back into Gatwick yesterday morning and have felt very depressed ever since.

All of yesterday I was under the heavy weight of the holiday blues and have been evaluating the decision I made four years ago to move to London. Is this a city/country/world for the optimist?

I was about to throw in the towel on the whole idea until I saw something yesterday that offered me a glimmer of hope.

Just as I was arriving at Kilburn Station, something in my peripheral snapped me out of a daydream and turned my head. A man was standing in front of a lady offering her a tissue. The lady accepted the gift and it was then that I realised that she had been crying and did not know this guy at all. The guy asked if there was anything else he could do. She politely declined and the man returned to his seat.

A simple act of love that may actually keep me here.

Bilbo

2009-07-30T13:30:00.000-07:00

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Farewell, Canada. You made me stronger.

Heat

2009-07-28T17:24:00.000-07:00

The English weren't made to live in hot climates. Each day this week has been around the 37 degree mark and I think I might actually be dying.

But I'm a survivor. I believe my record's pretty clear on that. And I have been finding new and ingenious ways of getting as much wind to my sweaty nether regions as poss. My favourite is walking down the road with legs a metre and a half apart and bent at the knee. Sure, you look like a pervy frog man, but betty swallocks are not a laughing matter, so I'm happy to take one for the team.

Last night I enjoyed a brilliant pool party at this huge house. Lots of acres, a trampoline, hot tub, couple of dogs, lots of burgers. A classic summer evening.

Today I went into Vancouver and met up with a friend from England who is over here on a holiday too. We were classically English in our crossing of the roads throughout the city, believing that vehicles stop for us, not the other way round.

I've got a couple of days left before heading back to England on Friday. Paul's birthday tomorrow...yippee...

Oh, and another thing...

2009-07-22T22:02:00.000-07:00

Something amazing happened to me a couple days back. Via an official Facebook group, I asked a question to one of my heroes, creator of 'The West Wing' - Aaron Sorkin. Within a couple of hours, I got a response! Here's the question and answer:

ME:
Do you ever think twice about writing a piece of dialogue for a character that you've created because of what audiences might feel about you personally? i.e. worry that people might think that Aaron Sorkin might think that, and not separate you from the character you're writing for? Has that ever happened at all in your career, and does it still happen?"

AARON:
Tom,

Truthfully, it happens more than I'd like. I like writing arguments--I like the way they sound--and to do that the characters have to have a strong opinion about something. My thoughts are entirely on the scriptwriting and never--hardly ever--on trying to use one of the characters as a mouthpiece for my own semi-formed opinions.

Thanks for the question.

Aaron

How amazing is that! I honestly believe Sorkin is up there with some of the greatest writers of the last two centuries and he takes the time to answer my question!

Sneaky Peaky

2009-07-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

Not that it's very interesting, but I thought I'd upload a tiny bit of dialogue from my script as it's the main thing I've been doing over the past 3 days. Here it be:

RILEY
It's pretty strange that it would
move all over the place.

OLD MAN
Strange? When you get to my age strange
and normal are the same damn thing.
You go to the washroom when you need to
take a leak. Me? Well, they give me a medal
if I manage to get through the day without
urinating all over myself! Soon enough, a little
bit of yellow on the crotch becomes an
everyday thing.

My Spotters

2009-07-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to write since I was 13 years old. I've wanted to express myself in any way I could since way before that, but writing, and more specifically movie scripts, probably 13 or 14.

It was at that age that I wrote my first script - a feature film called 'Young Offender'. Pathetic title, I know. It was about a kid who runs away from home in an attempt to find his real Dad and befriends a homeless man along the way. They become friends and it turns out the tramp lost a son and to cut a long story short they find what they were both looking for in each other. Touching.

It's been 4 years since I finished my degree in 'Writing'. Just after I graduated I started a new script and have been working on it ever since. And I am determined to make the most of my remaining time here in Langley to get it finally done.

That is why I have told Laura and Paul that if I don't reach my writing quota each day, they can kick me out onto the street. So I have been doing my morning writing in a place called 'Porters' - old school tea house place - and my afternoon writing in a place called 'Wired Monk' - bit more trendy and harder to get work done as they have a guitar that anyone can pick up and play.

Terra Casa Hair and Beauty

2009-07-17T17:40:00.000-07:00

Just got back from having my hair cut.

I sat next to this guy who was, at his own admission, 'absolutely crazy!' He was having the top part of his hair dyed silver and the sides jet black.

Mine went really well...until the end. When, as if it was perfectly normal procedure, my hairdresser (I forget her name) grabbed her comb and rested it over my eyebrows. She got out her scissors and went straight for my eyes. I recoiled. She said, 'you want me to do your eyebrows, right?' I couldn't really find the politically correct way of saying 'if you touch my eyebrows with your scissors you'll be wearing them'...so I just said, 'ummm...I don't normally get them done back home'.

She then informed me that if I took a bit more time grooming, the ladies would take notice.

Which I noted, before running out of the place as fast as I could.

She also told me that she does Paul's eyebrows. Which is something I'll be chatting to him about later.

Tim Horton's...

2009-07-15T11:33:00.000-07:00

...is a big deal out here.

Laura asked me if I would take Phoebe and Gracie there while she took care of some business at the driving test place. She said that Gracie was allowed one tinbit. I had no idea what a tinbit was until the lady informed that they are, in fact, mini donuts - and a box of ten was $1.70.

To cut a long story short, I thought Laura meant one box. Apparently she meant just...one.

So I'll be out of the house as the sugar hits in about 20 minutes...

5 days at Shuswap Lake...

2009-07-12T17:07:00.000-07:00

Shuswap is 4 and a half hours north-east of Langley. If I drove that distance from Bristol, I'm pretty sure I could get to Scotland. But, amazingly we only passed 2 (that's....TWO!!!!) towns. And that was with absolutely no traffic whatsoever. In fact, the only traffic of any concern was a dead bear (that's...A BEAR!!!!) in the middle of the freeway. What killed it? Most likely the S.U.V. at the side of the road with the massive dent on the bonnet.

We got to Sarah and Jaben's place at about 8pm. It was beautiful. Basically...their garden backed on to the lake. This is a Canadian lake - translation: it was approximately the size of Kent.

The girls went to bed. The men made a bonfire and spoke as they do.

The next day we were joined by Sarah's sister Lauren who would be staying with us for the rest of the week. A great relaxing day was had by all; conversation, games, guitar.

The following day, I took the Quad Bike up the mountain until I reached the top. Here's what I learnt about how I live my life: travelling up the mountain is the best part. Reaching the top and seeing the view is great, but it isn't what you do it for. And the bottom isn't the worst part, either: travelling to the bottom is. It's the scariest and trickiest to understand...but you do it to enjoy the chance to go back up again.

That evening Lauren told me that she was a fellow fishing fanatic, so we decided to take the canoe out onto the lake and see if we could catch us some supper. It was a calm evening; the sun was setting below the mountains, we didn't think anything sinister was awry.

We paddled out into the middle and cast off. After enjoying lovely conversation and beautiful scenery for about half an hour, I suggested we admitted defeat and returned to shore having not received a single bite. It was then that Lauren yelped, 'Oooh, I got one!'. She reeled in a fair-sized trout and placed it into the boat for me to unhook. If we were in a movie, we would be at the part where a slight hint of menace would be introduced into the main melody.

For the life of me I couldn't unhook this thing. I'd give anything to go back and give it one more try, but I can't now...it's too late...

Lauren said, 'Here, let me hold the fish while you focus on the hook'...it was the beginning of the end...

I was primarily on the right side of the boat, so as she leaned over it was just a simple matter of physics. Slowly (but not slow enough for us to do anything about it), the boat started to turn 20 degrees...30 degrees...40...50...60...85...at which point, Lauren and I looked into each other's eyes and shared a feeling of 'ohhhhhhhh SOD!'

And we crashed into the water.

I lost my rod within a matter of seconds, my flip flops had gone AWOL, and my woolly hat (I had been wearing a woolly hat) was soaking wet. And, as I pathetically treaded water, desperately trying to keep my head above the surface, I uttered the most un-manly thing ever to leave my lips...'Please....please...make sure my flip flops don't sink!'

The canoe began to go down. I had a fishing rod in one hand (with a fish still hooked on the end) and tried my best to stop the canoe's demise with the other. Lauren did the same, with two oars and my flip flops in the other.

We yelled to the sure...'HELP!'...'HELLO!'... It was like that bloody Titanic. It felt like hours but was probably closer to 6 minutes before we saw a flash of light in the distance. A few seconds later, a fleet of cargo came to our rescue. Lauren was picked up by two men who were impressed with our catch. My rescuer came in the form of a 16 year-old girl on a jet ski. How humiliating. I unhooked the fish and we returned to shore.

I was up for stripping and sharing body heat, but opted for the very plush (and slightly gay) bubble bath up at the house.

The next day we were quite a hit with the locals. My own personal 16 year-old Hasslehoff came by and I thanked her for her assistance the previous night. I did so with a slightly exaggerated English accent as I was desperate for her to take me out on the jet ski again. She agreed, and for some inexplicable reason I said the following: 'I'm going to hold onto the back of this thing, 'kay? Feel free to go as fast as you like...'

Mistake.

About three seconds later I whispered '....I think I'll hang on to you instead...'

I'll be honest...I nearly crapped myself. But I survived, and enjoyed an amazing rest of the week filled with:

- a man-made steam room
- a stonking-fast boat journey to a place where we did some cliff-jumping
- catching a fish, killing it (with rock), cutting it, gutting it, cooking it, eating it
- epically beautiful sunsets and moon-rises
- amazing company
- copious amounts of swimming and sun-bathing
- great food
- accidentally picking up scorching hot rocks
- accidentally stepping on scorching hot rocks

And, of course, the holiday blues on the journey home.

Thank you so much to the Meraw family for allowing us to stay at your beautiful place. And especially to Lauren, the girl with the best fishing skills ever.

And the worst sense of balance...

None of us be leaving alive...

2009-07-06T13:26:00.000-07:00

I'm just about to go away for 5 days with Laura, Paul, the two girls and a couple called Jaban and Sarah. They have a house on a lake somewhere and it's properly in the woods so I'm hoping I'll see a bear, a cougar or anything dangerous.

I hope they have a gun there. I want to man-up.

I am a little uneasy, however, as I have seen horror movies that start exactly like this. Two couples plus the weird single guy (moi) go away to a deserted log cabin... bugger.

I've also decided to extend my trip for an extra 5 weeks...so I won't be back in England until 17th August.

Warm for your form...

2009-07-03T19:39:00.001-07:00

You.

Just got back from a day at a water park. It. Was. Quality. It has been the hottest day I can remember in many a year, but you could still see snow on the surrounding mountains.

What was the thing I really liked about it, ya say? I'll tell thee: it was a two fingers up at those pig-awful journalists who say that so-and-so is too fat or so-and-so is too thin and pass judgment on everything. There were hundreds of people - all shapes and sizes not giving two barry-ollocks about what they looked like.

And apparently tattoos are cool. What is this, 1985? Don't get me wrong, I am considering getting a small dose of 'ink' (the cool way to say it) on my forearm at some point (probably after my metabolism has changed when I hit the 30 mark - don't want to have a faded and stretched ink...) - but they were everywhere. Did I miss something?

There was one lady who must have been knocking 60 with a tattoo on her breast! Another had a question mark on her lower back. Me thinks it was meant as a sexual and alluring unspecific question to the passing gentlemen. If it was, that's weird. But, if it was a masterly executed use of irony as she just didn't know what she wanted on arrival at the artist's parlor, then the woman's a genius.

Out.

Feet

2009-07-03T09:15:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posts...now you know how it felt for the Israelites. 400 years break between the Old and the New Testament!!! Simmer!

I've been spending the majority of my time working on my feet.

I bought one of them cheese-grater-crud-remover things from the local superstore and after just under a week of daily sanding...I look amazing. I'm talcking them up daily and feel like a million Canadian dollars - that's about 600 thousand pound sterling. I would write that out normally, but this keyboard doesn't recognize the pound sign.

More posts poste haste...

Bulldog Walk

2009-06-26T23:31:00.000-07:00

Went for a walk this eve.

On my travels I came across a man taking his bulldog for a walk (not a euphemism). The dog food over here must have as many calories as the human cuisine, because this thing was the size of a Volkswagen Golf.

I muttered to the owner something along the lines of 'it's a nice little piece of home'.

Then I stroked the K9 for approximately 15 seconds.

I went on my way.

10 metres down the road, I smelt my hand.

It was if I had high-fived the poo-man.

Gracie

2009-06-24T16:09:00.000-07:00

Park Archetypes

2009-06-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

Just took little Gracie to the park.

What's the one thing that's the same the world over? The one thing that we universally share? The one thing that binds humankind together as 'one'?

It's the man who plays along with the kids' game down the park and takes it way too seriously.

There was a group of about 35 kids divided into 2 teams participating in a game of (American) Football. The 'captain' of one of these teams was a fully-grown mid-thirties man who roared out such things as:

'LET'S DO IT!'...
'T.....T.....TIMEOUT!'...
'COME ON...FOCUS!'....
'NAIL HIM, SOLDIER!'...

He went into tackles as hard as he would with men his own age...he didn't back down in confrontation...he questioned 'the referee's' (another man who was just passing by) decisions. Hysterical.

And another thing I noticed...when it's your job to look after a girl at the park, you realise how gross boys are. They sweat, they salivate, they run around the place pretending everything's about to explode. And do they have to be SO LOUD!? Goodness me.

Coldplay and Starbucks' Deaf Mute

2009-06-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

Paul surprised me on Friday afternoon with a couple of tickets to watch Coldplay for Sunday night. So we went with a group from his church and had a really soft-rocking good night.

Wanted to explore a bit of the Langley life, so borrowed a map and went a-walking. I like to walk. I'm pretty good at it. But I completely misjudged the scale of the map and the size of the roads over here and, I crap you not, almost passed-out 30 minutes ago. If it wasn't for the life-saving nourishment of the subway foot-long I wolfed down, I don't think I would have made it.

I'm now in a Starbucks where I was just served by a deaf-mute girl. I had to write down what I wanted! But, you know what, I think she's faking it. Maybe she doesn't like the sound of her voice. She looks like an ordinary 22 year-old, but I bet she actually has a voice like Barry White...or maybe Yoda...or perhaps Chewbacca! Imagine that!....

ME: Hi there...how much is a mug of English Breakfast over here?
DM GIRL: ARRRGHGHHHHHH ARRRRGGHHHHHHH ARAAAAARRRRRRGHHH!!!!!
ME:...............marry me!

Interrogation

2009-06-19T21:07:00.000-07:00

I was picked up by Bonny this afternoon and we left La Conner and headed for Canada.

This meant that I would once again have to explain myself to border patrol. I thought the Canadians would accept me and my ways more naturally than the guys in Denver (because of the whole commonwealth/sense of humour connection). Wrong. In short: I left the place ashamed to be alive.

A big, scary, bald guy took me into a room and this is a genuine transcript of some our conversation:

BP: 'What'dya do for a living in England?'
ME: 'I've just left my job, I don't currently have one'
BP: '...Why not?'
ME: '...Wanted to move onto different things...'
BP: 'How are you paying for your stay in Canada?'
ME: '...uh...I have money that I saved...'
BP: 'What'ya gonna do for money when you go back home?'
ME: '...Um...I'll be alright. I have plans to continue studying in September...'
BP: 'How are you gonna pay for that?'

No word of a lie. And more and more and more questions of the sort. I half expected him to continue thus:

BP: 'What colour underpants do you usually wear?'
ME: '....Ummm....grey, mostly. Orange if I'm feeling naughty'
BP: 'Have you ever left sprinklets on the toilet seat without wiping them off?'
ME: '...Haven't we all?'
BP: '...Have you ever put your hands down your pants, scratched your balls and then high-fived a friend without washing them first?'
ME: 'Guilty'
BP: 'Ever known forbidden love?'
ME: 'His name was Trevor...'

But I got through, arrived at my sister and brother-in-law's a few hours ago, and spent the evening having fun with them and my two nieces, Phoebe and Gracie. UBERLY cute.

Luke Ekblad

2009-06-19T10:07:00.001-07:00

I leave for Vancouver in a couple of hours after spending 3 nights at the Ekblad retreat. It's been amazing here - space, farmland, quintessential US people, shops and produce.

A large chunk of my time has been hanging out with Bob and Gracie's second son, Luke. He's 16 and finished school for the summer yesterday. It's exactly 10 years since I left secondary school, and I always get a nostalgic feeling at this time of year, so I connected with him a lot. His mum told me that he's been learning the guitar since Christmas and wondered if I'd jam with him to boost his confidence. He brought up his very nice VOX amp, a Fender Squire and an acoustic, and we've been playing together ever since.

In the space of just 3 days I've seen him go from a shy, nervous beginner to a musician with lightening-quick learning ability. I've written down a load of artists that he should check out and also a bunch of chord sequences so he can start writing songs of his own. He is going to be a brilliant guitarist and I really feel like I've imparted something of what I've learnt over the years onto him. An honour.

He is also a fellow Lord Of The Rings fanatic. How much so? Last night we had a quote-a-thon and he almost beat me.

The Rexville Men

2009-06-17T10:09:00.000-07:00

Slept for as long as I could but still woke up at 7am.

Trimmed the stubble, showered the body, brushed the teeth and powered the feet (in a new burst to vanish muchos skank).

Gracie recommended a little petrol stop/tea house a short walk from the house called 'Rexville', so I decided to take my book ('The Ghost' by Robert Harris - READ IT!) and check it out.

Ordered an 'English Breakfast' and found a table in-between half a dozen Rexville regulars. The community was amazing, and men here don't have a problem with sharing their feelings as much as they do back in England. The best example of this came half-way through my 2 hours there...just as I was nearing the end of my chapter, the shop owner burst out...

'OH DANG IT! He's gone and done it again! Billy....BILLY!!!!'

The whole group headed outside to discover that 'Billy' had driven away without removing the petrol pump from his car.

It ripped it clean off.

The Retreat

2009-06-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

Kory and I woke up early and drove out to La Conner. The scenery was amazing.

The retreat is like something out of a dream, or maybe Grand Designs...dirt track that leads to a secluded wooded farm house immersed in the trees. It looks like a bungalow, but when you enter, you realise that you're actually in the upstairs. This is where the main living area is...the kitchen, dining room and HUGE living room that looks out over the Skagit River through MA-HOO-SIVE windows at one end.

There is a balcony that runs round the whole house. This is where the dogs 'Shadow' and 'Willy' jump, bark and lick their testicles...

Gracie (the mum) and Anna (the daughter) cooked us breakfast before Kory had to go back to Seattle. We then took the dogs for a walk...I saw a garter snake, jumped and yelped like a little bitch, and was then laughed at by a 14-year-old girl. A lot.

Washington

2009-06-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Seattle - beautiful. Had some burgers, went to bed. Drive out to the retreat in about 20 minutes.

Denver

2009-06-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

Things I've learnt in the last 10 hours:

1. England is over-crowded.
2. Don't go for laughs at US Customs. Shut your mouth, use the puppy 'dawg' eyes God gave you, and make sure your necklace with a cross on it is clearly showing...it minimizes pain.
3. Steve Martin hasn't completely lost it...I laughed out loud many times during both watches of 'The Pink Panther 2'.
4. 'Mall Cop' (I believe it was called) is also brilliant.
5. I've caught my brother's condition of thinking average movies are brilliant.

...onto Seattle/Takoma in just under an hour and a half...retreat for the prophet.

Tom.

Booking...

2009-06-10T23:54:00.000-07:00

...A couple of friends recommended 'Trail Finders' in Selfridges as a great place to book my flights...I immediately knew what this meant: having to pass through the make-up section.

Having suffered serious retina damage last time after looking directly at one of them (the scary made-up women behind the counters), I hunted around for my sun glasses.

Armed with said rimms, I went to Oxford Street and booked my month-long tickets to Seattle, with the plan of spending around a week there and the rest in Vancouver, Canada.

And I wanted to keep a blog...hopefully not too self-involved.