So a regular readers of this blog will know I am a fat bastard and fond of a sausage roll or 12 (Depending on the size) It seems a new bakery in Garston Village has opened. Now I am still grieving from the closure of Wilsons (Hardcore sausage roll fans know the score) but its amazing how many of my friends and indeed just followers over “The socials” (My god who would have thought that was a phrase when I were a lad ?) tagged me in the news that a new bakery in Garston Village has opened called Porkie Pies. Now for a start I don’t eat pies I mean what do you take me for some kind of BMI busting blob of lard ? But I do scoff sausage rolls. Now don’t get me wrong I have told a few Porkie Pies to Mrs Fay back in the day when I had lost weekends but the counter balance was that when I came in wrecked and left my jeans draped over the bannister and money on the hall window sill she would dip my money for an amount that reflected how twatted I was. AKA The Good Night Weekend Out Tax. But anyway back to sausage rolls and I came in on Thursday night after seeing The Villagers (They were great) and a quick mention for Soul II Soul last Saturday (They were boss) and my mouth was salivating at the thought of a sausage roll from this shop. Mad thing is I have already mentioned in a previous blog how trendy sausage rolls have become with M&S young all kinds of funky flavours and the now traditional sausage roll garland which should really come with a pint of Gaviscon ! Anyway Mrs Fay was under strict instructions to go there on Friday and pick up some lunch whilst I ordered some jeans an extra 2inches size up from da internet.
So Friday morning and with my taste buds were into salivating overload and I had a tea towel tucked into the top of my neck to keep my t-shirt clean. I was in work and after a few ciders the night before was ready for some sausage roll hammer. Lucky enough Mrs Fay was off work so I was encouraging her to get down early to guarantee success in the sausage roll draw. She finally headed on down there at 11:45 to be told the heartbreaking news that all the sausage rolls had gone by 9.30. Whats all that about ! The Johnny come lately sausage roll bods will soon move on whereas you have my custom for life. Ahh well Porkie Pies will be reviewed another day.
In other non sausage roll news now wishing that I had wiped the tommy K from my beard and brushed the crumbs onto the floor much to the excitement of the dogs a classic scene from Boys From The Blackstuff was brought to my attention by a Twitter friend.
Wow the took me back to watching TV as a child with my late mum and dad. On the plus side the Albert Dock was not bulldozed. Only now looking back I realise how educated I was with this “Scully” “One Summer” which I watched years after missing the twist of the teacher (Kidder) being an innocent 9 year old but I remember watching the last episode of One Summer all sat in my nans living room which is now the knock through kitchen of the house we live in. Never forget the scene when Icky dies. We thought Icky was cool as a 9 year old. After that it was the likes of Auf Weidersehen Pet. That post made me realise that I watch no TV with my kids. This is partly due to the change in the dynamics of watching things on demand and on your own personal viewing platform and that any “family” TV consists of the kids watching reality shite with Mrs Fay. I often get a little bit down about my advancing years but then look back and think compared to my kids I had it all musically, drama wise and social media free wise though I did have a penpal from Germany who I soon fucked off as it was a lad and not a girl ! I honestly think my parents looked at me and thought “Lucky bastard” I look at my kids and modern life and think “Unlucky bastards”
For those of you were arsed to watch the clip “I can’t believe there’s no hope, can’t” words that sadly resonate today.
So up early Sunday morning and not a touch of grog all weekend as the father in law kindly offered to drop me of in Manchester for The Manchester Half Marathon. Heading of into the gloom with rain starting en route in the car I had the beginning of a migraine with my vision having an aura. Dropped off in plenty of time I headed the shop for some Nurofen and water. I decided to take the risk and just necked the tablets not checking the ingredients and safely assuming I wasn’t going to win the race and fail a drugs test. A quick walk to the Theatre of dreams AKA Old Trafford for a bit of shelter and to change my race number from my top onto the front of my jacket as rain was now falling. It was more like the theatre of piss as it smelt like a subway where I decided to change my number over. Out into the Manchester rain and I was representing as I have done in my two previous races there (Both marathons you see I am an athlete) and my Istanbul 2005 Champions League winners badge was on my running hat.
So at the start in plenty of time a random man asked me to pin his race number on. He was wearing a Manchester United shirt. I explained I was a Liverpool fan and would more than be happy to put his number on but couldn’t guarantee that I would not draw blood from the safety pins. As it was I let him off and we had a laugh about it and I showed him my hat with my LFC badge on.
So a delayed start and I finally got across the start line at 9.25 as the rain began to fall down harder. I was thinking anything under two hours would be great as I was in nowhere near Personal Best form (Or weight) The plan was to see after 10k what my watch would forecast for a half and the first 10k was fine if not a little wet. Around 5 miles the leader was coming back on the other side with about 1.5 miles left. He was what I would call sprinting. A bit disheartening but I always run my own race and try and not let other people going past me etc worry me. As it was I was on for about 2 hours 3 mins after 10k and decided just to plod around at the age pace and enjoy the race.
This was leg two out of twelve in the half marathon a month challenge since I turned 45 in September challenge and I just wanted to get to the 10 mile marker and then it was mentally the home straight. Whilst out running I spotted what I thought was a mile marker with “Sale” on. Cheeky bastards I thought fancy a shop using the same font etc as the race to advertise a sale. As it happens it was a sign to say I was now entering Sale !!
So wet through and my nipple plasters having bit the dust the main problem for the last few miles were nipple related. Entering the long home straight which was the same as The Marathon one brought back memories of my greatest race and a 4 hour 27 full marathon in April. I had a decent sprint finish in me so went for it and indeed my fastest mile of the race was my 13th and final mile at 9mins 10. Over the line and another medal for the collection this was my 14th half marathon. Official time of 02:03:43 and officially the wettest race I have ever done. Well done Manchester. As ever time to pick up a t-shirt that doesn’t fit me and a quick dash to meet Mrs Fay and I was soon back in Liverpool and after a nice relaxing bath it was time to walk the dogs.
Being an athlete its importing to refuel and rehydrate so it was sausage rolls for a late brunch and I have just cracked a Desperados open to get my creative juices flowing and write this blog. In other exercise related news me and Mrs Fay went the gym together on Friday quickly followed by a chippy tea !! I do work very hard to keep in this shape.
So another successful raid behind enemy lines and into Manchester escaping unscathed and with a medal to show for my efforts. Time for another two Nurofen washed down with Desperados.
In future blog news the winning host city for what will be my 12th February trip away is Bratislava so expect the usual “A Cultural Review Of………….” blog to be posted in February 2019 once I have recovered. Think I might need to get Februarys half marathon out of the way before that trip !
So that time again. After a fallow year in 2018 leaving Glastonbury in 2017 ticket day seemed an age away and here we are on Thursday for the first batch of tickets on sale were the coach tickets ahead of the main sale on Sunday. Theres always some smug bastards on Thursday night smiling at the fact they have already boxed off their Glastonbury ticket. Yeah I was one of them. Ticket sorted and Glastonbury 2019 will be added to 2010, 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2017. It was all eyes to the weekend and the giant task ahead in Liverpool. Nah not them giants the giant ticket hunt for Glastonbury at 9am on Sunday morning. I needed to sort the rest of my crew out. Before Thursday I told Mrs Fay don’t worry if we don’t get tickets in the main sale or resale I will take us for a weekend away in Ibiza not being able to sit and watch the Glastonbury weekend unfold in front of my eyes on the TV. On Thursday night she asked about the Ibiza plans. Well thats a non started as I am going to Glastonbury. You could take the kids to Legoland I replied as I got ready to duck for cover at kitchen items to be hurled in my direction.
So Saturday night and having dodged two saucepans, a frying pan and large bottle of tommy K it was a massive weekend for the city of Liverpool with the return of the giants AKA Massive puppets AKA puppets AKA like Thunderbirds AKA not arsed. Funny enough my favourite puppets had been launched back into my life this week with the sad passing of Rainbow’s Geoffrey Hayes. I am just glad he wasn’t involved in operation Yewtree as that would have shattered my childhood but looking back he was more likely to of been involved in an orgy with Rod, Jane and Freddy. With giant fever hitting overload on Saturday night it got me thinking about my favourite Giants.
So at number three Jossy’s Giants the kids TV show from the 80’s. Written by the late great darts commentator Sid Waddell.
New entry at number two is Giant Haystacks. Mad to think as a 7 year old watching the ITV wrestling with me nan that I would grow up to be a Haystacks stunt double.
And staying at number one for the 1768th week its giant sausage roll. (See above)
So with all that giant nonsense I was in bed at 9pm on a Saturday night and asleep just after 10 ready for the giant Glastonbury ticket hunt.
Sunday morning awake and feeling fresh for not touching a drop of grog all weekend I walked up to the in-laws house to use their wifi as they were away as its an extra way in for a ticket. I quickly completed my tasks of feeding the mother in laws pussy and stirring the father in laws red wine he is in the process of making. So just before 9am as the nerves kicked in a bit despite me smugly having a ticket I wanted our crew to go and get as many extra tickets for people who I knew. It was good news by 9.10am and group one had secured their tickets and just after that group two has theirs sorted. But that was it as all sold out about 9.35. Mrs Fay was going to Glastonbury and would not have to rely on reading my daily blogs from the Farm thus making sure we reached our next wedding anniversary. There are quite a few people I know who did not get the golden Willy Wonka ticket and we will be trying our hardest come the resale in April for them. The more of us down there the merrier.
So with the giant ticket hunt being over more successful than not the giants left Liverpool for the last time. Well until next time. A bit like me with Ibiza and every time I leave I say “I have had a have nice day Jim but I am gonna take the comedown and let the next couple have a go at Ibiza’s special star prize” Funny enough its Fay Ibiza 3 Liverpool Giants 3. There will deffo be a winner but who? As you might of been able to tell the giants were not for me but for Liverpool and many people they are. I am not that much of a Meldrew to deny you your joy after all who wants to walk in a muddy farm in June for 5 days ? I hope you enjoyed the giants it looked like you did and this picture from Saturday is a belter.
Well I gonna round the weekend off with a Taurus cider which we cart down to Glastonbury by the gallon and look behind me at the Tyskie Flag on my office wall knowing it will be down there in 2019. Right time to look at faceprint and glow sticks on Amazon !!
So Friday evening and the first of a double gig weekend. Add into the mix Chelsea versus Liverpool and The Ryder Cup weekend Europe versus The U S of A it was going to be a great weekend crowned off each night with the Half Man Half Biscuit versus Henry Priestman. I officially declare the music, sport and beer games open.
So Friday night and first up The Half Man Half Biscuit (HMHB) gig at the O2 in Liverpool. We headed out quite late for us at 7.45 and sneaked a couple of pre gig beers in at Ma E’s. Had it been 25 years years ago it might have been pre club E’s instead of Ma E’s but we are firmly in 2018 now. We got into a very busy O2 around 8.45 and I was reminded of how expensive the gaff is for a bevvy. Maybe we should have “pre loaded” before we went out. Isn’t that what the youth of today do ? Just after 9pm and we had our speck in a sweaty and very busy O2 and the boys that shook The Wirral came on. I first heard HMHB back in 1985 when some of the student who were helping out with the summer play scheme we went to played us “Fuckin Ell It’s Fred Titmus” it more stuck in my mind that I had the chance to swear and sing. Luckily swearing so early didn’t have an effect on my life. Quite lucky really as when I was singing the song as a young child I didn’t have a fucking clue who bastard Fred Titmus was at the time (A former England Test Match cricketer for the record) What surprised me about HMHB was their musical talents. With the current count of albums at 14 and counting I have only ever delved into a few albums. With what some would say the magic of HMHB is the lyrics if you don’t know the songs it can be quite hard to decipher what some lyrics are live and not helped being half pissed so I had a feeling on some songs I was missing out as I was not in the HMHB gang knowing each song word for word like some HMHB groupies in the crowd. But the short nature of some of the songs reminded me of punk music at times. We ended up moving up to the balcony at the O2 as it was that busy and would be too much hassle to get to the bar and we got a good speck up there for my vertically challenged father in law and if anything the sound was better as well. On the way up there coming out of the crowd in the darkness I got a hug of a lad who said “Alright Fay” and we both went in opposite directions. I could not see who it was but had a feeling it was an old friend from when I worked at Liverpool City Council so included him in a tweet after the gig. Was it him or dad I have a secret male admirer. Turned out it was the lad from the council.
The band rattled through many songs in a set just under two hours including the famous “All I want for Christmas is a Dukla Prague away kit” and “Joy Division Oven Gloves” but the highlight for me was “99% Of Gargoyles Look Like Bob Todd which eased seamlessly at the end into “Maincrest car and van hire seven double three three two oh one” As the gig ended it was an enjoyable night but just came out with the feeling that a trick was missed not being a super nerd fan of HMHB. We ended up in Wetherspoons for some post gig beers and like three auld bastards (45, 60 and 66) sipped our Moretti and Tyskie’s. The place was surprisingly full of youngsters who instead of paying the equivalent price to O2 gig prices at where they would end up were pre loading with jugs of “stuff” counting each other down to neck them and most probably saving a fortune on the night. We left Weatherspoons into a chilly autumnal feeling Liverpool night and gig one was over and out.
Saturday and the second gig of the double header weekend and a trip over to West Kirby to see Henry Priestman at The West Kirby Arts Centre. We headed out early from Liverpool at just after 4pm to get the train over to West Kirby and hoped that we would make it in time for the last train home. We landed in West Kirby and it was a pleasant day weather wise but we swerved the beach. First up was to find a boozer to watch the Liverpool match in. Wow I never knew West Kirby had such a lack of boozers. Trendy wine bars a plenty but with Wetherspoons (again) being the only pub we could see but they famously down have TV’s. We asked a random person who said Hickory’s might have it on. Enter the age of technology and Apple Maps which got us to our destination about a mile away and luckily the match was on. We watched the first half with the waft of lovely food going past us and it seemed like a nice gaff to go and have a scran in but we were on the ale so strictly no food as “Eating is cheating” We left at half time to get nearer to the venue for the gig and found a back way into West Kirby and with a lack of pubs ended up in Wetherpoons and I banged the match on my iPhone 8s and we got some funny looks as there three of us cheered at Liverpools late equaliser in the very quiet Wetherspoons pub. Time to head up to the gig itself and by now felt like we had covered most of West Kirby on foot and played a game of Anneka Rice’s Channel four’s hit show treasure hunt in the process I imagined Anneka’s tight jump suit in yellow in front of me as I chased her trying to find the final clue and the venue for the gig. In reality the father was in front of me in jeans and I had to erase the image of him in a jump suit in front of me that was now etched in my mind.
So we arrived at The West Kirby Arts Centre and if you did not know it was there you would never stumble across it. A lovely small hall tucked away on an suburban street with its own pop up bar. I was fumbling on my phone to get the email conformation up and just happy the gig hadn’t started as we weren’t quite sure what time proceedings would be kicking off. On walking into the gig I was met with “Its Ok these are no trouble” to was it we are trouble ha ha from non other than Mr Henry Priestman. In hindsight I should have said a proper hello and introduced my father in law and mate Alan but I will be brutally honest and say I still get a bit starstruck when I see him despite having met him now on several occasions. We got our drinks and a speck in what seemed to be a small converted chapel ? it was 10 years ago since the release of Henry’s debut album “The Chronicles Of Modern Life” (Do have a listen to it) and to celebrate this he was playing it from back to front (As you do) At the time the lyric ” Im the same age as my father was when I first thought he was old” Being 34 at the time that lyric hit me like a hammer. 10 years later and it is the song “Greys the new blonde” that hits home even more as what hair I have left is greying as well as my beard ! Henry was joined on the stage by Les Glover and the “Patter” (I am never using the swearword Banter) is at times funnier than some comedians I have watched. With backing vocals from Sarah Wright and strings from Dr Nick the album was performed as promised in reverse and was great.
Part two was to be songs from Henry’s other albums and songs from his previous bands including It’s Immaterial and the Christians with Les giving us a few of his great songs as well. Highlights from part two included The Christians hit “Ideal World” being changed into an advert and the secret of chords used in the songs “Suffice To Say”, “Driving Away From Home” and “When The Fingers Point” being suspiciously similar. Oh and not forgetting us all turning into foxes for “Rockferry Fox” by Les. A toilet break was needed and the toilet was front right to the stage but luckily there was a long way outside the venue you could use to avoid the walk of shame. With the rousing “Not in my name” as the night neared the end of the evening it showed an interesting political demographic split (See that Human Geography I completed 25 years ago wasn’t quite wasted clubbing in Liverpool) and shall we say the more non socialist members of the crowd were not clapping along ha ha.
So that was that gig two over and whist outside the venue I bumped into Henry again and this time had a chat with him and even bestowed him an honour that only one person in my 45 year life has been awarded. I asked him if I could pose in a photograph with him. The only previous winner of this award was Jan Molby in 2012. We headed off into a slightly warmer than Friday night West Kirby evening and hit the chippy on the way home and made the last train to Liverpool with plenty of time to spare.
So Sunday was recovery day from two nights on the ale and despite a wobble mid afternoon Europe won the Ryder Cup back from America and this evening is spent with a few last Desperados for the weekend deciding the final results of the weekend in a vinyl play off.
Here are the classified results from the weekend 28/29/30 September.
Chelsea 1 Liverpool 1
Europe 17 1/2 USA 10 1/2
Half Man Half Biscuit 7/10 Henry Priestman 9/10
With one draw the pools dividend is expected to be low and there is a late kick off in the beers versus waistline match with waistline expected to expand by about two inches this weekend !!
Still mad to think that as a 13 year old I would get to know the popstar on the front of the “Forgotten Town” 7inch single I was buying. As I have said before Henry is the nicest person in pop and you can read about it HERE Apologies to Les who I never got to chat to in the rush home for the train. Together they are the nicest men in pop as posted HERE.
So a quiet weekend was planned when I discovered that on Saturday evening there was a Labour rally down The Pier Head from 6-8 that featured two of my fave bands The Christians and The Farm. If you haven’t read the blog The Christians turned up at my house once BLOG HERE (Click link for blog) and not only that Jeremy Corbyn was to give a speech. Well thats an invite I couldn’t turn down. With my socialist mate and father in law busy I ended up going down on my own and so took my posh camera to get a few snaps.
So down there for about 5.45 and refusing the temptation of bringing a few tinnies over though I was tempted for a quick pint en route from the station first up was a speech. Must be easy pickings delivering a speech at a labour event in Liverpool. First band up were my joint fave band ever (Joint with Deacon Blue) The Christians. Just the three songs “Forgotten Town” “Ideal World” and “Harvest For The World” from the lads who over the years have become a tight band with the increased touring they do and Joey does the business on vocals as well. That reminds me I mist get tickets for their chrimbo gig.
More speakers hitting the open goal of the Liverpool crowd and band number two were on and again Liverpool’s own The Farm. Just a few tracks from them as well including “All Together Now” helped by John McClure from reverend and The Makers. The Farm are responsible for one of the greatest gigs I have been to as part of the Justice Tonight Band with Mick Jones from The Clash, Pete Wylie and a strong cast of others the gig they done at District (The old new Picket) was amazing. To hear Jones doing some Clash songs just a few feet away was amazing. The Farm opened with “Bankrobber” gently reminding us it wasn’t about the bastard bankers who screwed us all over (My words not Peter Hooton’s)
Shadow Chancellor John McDonnell was up next and a home town gig for him and another home run which the ever growing crowd lapped up. I was a bit worried at 5.45 at the rather sparse attendance compared to the thousands that turned up on a wet weekday night outside St George’s Hall the other year but by the main event the Pier Head was chokka. Final band of the night and its always great to see a new band and Captain Ska who had the longest set of the evening and had the crowd bopping along to their infectious ska beat and anti Tory lyrics. Must catch a full set by them.
It was then time for the headline act and the messiah was on stage.
If ever there was a leader for Liverpool this is the man. For me he is the last roll of the political dice. If the country doesn’t buy into what he has to offer then frankly its fucked. As mentioned none of my other auld mates would have fancied this. Some are not left leaning, some borderline if not full on Tory. How the fuck did that happen ? Most probably the reason we don’t discuss things like that. Why ruin years of friendship over politics ? I just hope in ten years talking my 55th birthday drinks I am not saying “I told you so, we had a chance and your all passed it over” Corbyn as expected went down a storm. I have been with him since day one of his leadership campaign. I joined the Labour party and have done a bit of leafleting and attended the odd meeting. Time to put my money where my mouth is. Others have come on board and others have yet to be convinced. As 8 o’clock come the crowd had seen what they wanted to and as Corbyn went off stage “Let’s Dance” by Bowie came on a choon I adore but legged it for the train to get home for a bevy and to see how my pictures came out.
So a bonus evening out of nowhere. I got to see two of my fave bands discovered a new band and walked off into the darkness of a Liverpool evening walking up into the city centre smiling as the last hope is very much on and Liverpool are top of the league. For the record I would take a Corbyn win over a Liverpool league championship. Some things are just more important.
Sunday night vinyl night and one year today since “The Screaming Eagle Of Soul” Mr Charles Bradley died. I was lucky enough to catch Charles play live three times (It wasn’t enough) so I will be playing his three albums “”No Time For Dreaming” “Victim Of Love and “Changes” Do watch the documentary about him “Soul Of America” such a nice fella and got to live his dream at the very end of his life.
Pictures from last nights event below and as ever click on a pic for a larger image.
So today I am 45 and let me tell you I hate the “fives” with a passion. Birthdays mean less as the years go on but since a twist of fate back in 2012 meant my dad died the day after my birthday I now just associate my birthday as my auld mans death date eve ! Yeah I am a bundle of fun to be with eh. But positive vibes are a plenty and somebody has just knocked at the door back in a mo.
Well fuck me it was Eamonn Andrews disguised as the Pizza Park delivery man with a big red book saying Neil Fay “This is your life” derrrrr derrrr da derrrrrrr.
So Neil George Fay born on the 18th September 1973 in Mill Road hospital by c-section around 11am but weight unknown but assuming you were a bigun for the time. Second child of John and Lilian Fay and younger brother of Clare. Life begun in a small two up two down in Briarwood Road, Aigburth and just a few years later John must have got promotion as you and the family moved to Woodlands Road, Aigburth. Early memories include running though a glass door and luckily coming away without a scratch and not being decapitated. This was the first of seven of your lives you have lost and having just two left out of your nine is not good at the tender age of 45. You were a clingy child with mother having to sneak out of playgroups or you would go mental and your eating habits were not the best. Around the age of four you decided to break open a pillow and stuff some sponge up your nose. No great shakes but around 10 days later there was a bad smell in the house and after a bit of detective work it was coming from your nose as the sponge rotted away prompting a trip to the hospital. Other early memories include playing your mums old records and having a picture of Bill Shankly on your bedroom wall and when my dad asked who it was I would reply “Mr Shankly”
School started and you attended Sudley Infants school starting on the same day that your sister (Clare) started senior school. Abiding memory from that was falling over on the concrete school playground playing and my face having a fight with the small stones on top of the concrete. The lad who I was playing with (Phil Jefferies) I met in 2017 at Glastonbury after over 25 years since I last seen him. He informed me that my mum and dad had gone around to his on the bounce thinking he had done it on purpose. Mad I only found that out then. As it was things were soon cleared up. The natural progression was to Sudley Junior School and it was soon apparent that I was gonna be tall but not the tallest. That honour went to Stu Wenman who again by some strange twist of fate in 2017 I bumped into up Sudley Field walking the dogs and now see him up there on a regular basis. At this rate Eamonn is not gonna have any surprise guest to bring out at the very end. Memories from Sudley Juniors are that our footy team was good but won nothing and I was a star striker mainly because I was a “man boy” and nobody could stop my shots. During the summer of 2nd and 3rd year Juniors (Year 4 & 5 in new money) we moved house but had to spend a summer living with my Nan (Mums mum) at Wingate Road a house that would go on to have a massive bearing on my life. Eventually big John Fay must have got another promotion as we moved to a semi detached on Mossley Hill Road with a garden and went from caravanning holidays to coach trips to Spain. The Fay’s had arrived despite Thatchers best attempts at fucking the city over.
Mossley Hill Road was the sight of the first transformation of my life from young boy into the teenage years and as Quarry Bank changed its name to Calderstones Community Comprehensive School (Or Caldies to all the cool kids) I attended there for senior school. Memories from Mossley Hill involve my mum sitting on “her” chair with a cigarette and a vodka and diet coke on a regular basis thus I ended up watching a lot of her TV. Some good such as Auf Weidersehen Pet others not too great such as Dynasty ! Big John was down Aigburth Vale having a pint though I can exclusively reveal now they are no longer here that one summer I wasn’t allowed to play footy in the garden and was told “Get over The IM Marsh” which was a bit harsh. Only in later years my mum and dad copped to growing cannabis in the greenhouse (for personal consumption along with tomato’s as well) this despite a high level copper living next door. Sorts of makes sense now. here was me worrying about ruining my dads Wembley grass playing footy on it when there was more important grass in the greenhouse !! Caldies was a great school. A mixture of bods (clever dicks) bods on the sly (Clever dicks but fitted in with us) normal kids (me) and some rough arse kids (A few of them either banged away for a long time or shot dead) But it gave me the skills for life and I stayed on for 6th form. Picture below is first year Caldies (I loved that Fred Perry Jumper) and more turns of fate taken in my mate Ian Hunters house which my sister bought some years later and still lives there !! Oh yeah for the record my best year of my life (1990) took place. During these years I was evicted from my big bedroom into the box room as my sister got pregnant with Adam. She was just 18 and I was an uncle (to become uncle knobhead) at just 13. I will never forget the day I came home from school an my dad went ballistic at me at the front door and said get to your bedroom “what have I done” I enquired “Its not what you have done its what your sister has done” was the reply. I spent the next two hours with my ears to my bedroom floor trying to find out what was going on during the tears and shouting !
So with me doing just enough at both GCSE and A Levels whilst waiting for the results of A Levels to come out the bombshell was dropped that my mum and dad would be leaving to go and live in Clitheroe near to where my dad was working. Only now when I look back at this its seems (A) a massive decision and (B) slightly strange. My sister was a single parent with Adam and relied on my mum so in that respect the move was big and despite offering me to live with them I was 18 and why was I going to leave Liverpool so they essentially fucked me off. Now don’t take that the wrong way it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was offered a flat of my own to be subsidised but didn’t fancy that so took the homely option of moving in with my nan for a second spell at Wingate Road as I went to John Moores University to study Human Geography because my dad knew a lecturer there who got me in.
So the uni years AKA years spent at The 051, Cream , Garlands and other clubs. My nan didn’t have a clue and when asking why I was off uni again I would tell her its another reading week. With my mum and dad tucked safely away in Clitheroe I got away with murder. But with my mum and dad living away the dynamic changed between us became one of I always made an effort to go up and see them which was basically going out on the piss with them all weekend and they paid followed by them giving me a dropsy through guilt of leaving me that would subsidise clubbing for a weekend rather than living with them and being told off constantly as I “discovered myself” As the clubbing years eventually faded I just about passed my Batchelor of Science in Human Geography after an extra year and final resits of resits and it was into the big wide world of work. I started work at Ladbrokes on Park Road the same day Frankie Dettori won all 7 races at Ascot. Soon I was to be gong out with my future wife who decided to date me just after me and my nan won £5000 on the pools hmmmmm. Euro 96 was highlight of the 90’s but the end of the 90’s was tainted with the news the my mum had developed Ovarian Cancer a shadow that would hang over my life for the next few years. Not many pictures from that era but I was at my slimmest as an adult and sporting blonde dyed hair that my nan would do in her kitchen on a Friday tea time with half a bottle of born blonde ready to hit the clubs. As we headed to the new millennium I had progressed well in Ladbrokes now having my own shop and being operations manager at Goodison Park and winning the north west manager tournament. The world was my oyster.
As we entered the year 2000 I was an early adopter of the internet. At 56k dial up and 1p a minute to be online I got a shock when my first internet bill was around £70. 2001 seen me change jobs and I got a new job with Liverpool City Council as a Housing Benefits Officer. The night before I was due to start my parents were coming down with some news to announce. i braced myself for some terrible news about my mum. All sat in the living room I was told my dad had lung cancer and was going in for his lung to be removed. Never have I been hit with a hammer blow like that. In a trance for the next hour my parents left and not being able to digest what had gone on I went to bed totally floored and slept from about 5pm to the next morning when I started my new job which I was nervous about but them nerves soon went as it meant fuck all in the grand scheme of things.
As time raced by I had become an uncle to twins and got engaged to the lucky future Mrs Fay. come 2002 it was time to leave my nan and move in with “me bird” and leaving Aigburth to live in Almond Court in Garston (The site of the old tennies) marriage soon followed 2003 and in 2004 the patter of little feet as Elizabeth Lillian Emma Fay was born. But with life comes death and after a brave battle for many years my mum finally succumbed to cancer in 2005. A bombshell I was 31 and my mum was 58. With my hairline receding and my waistline expanding in 2007 daughter number two came along Charlotte Alison Lillian Fay and the hatrick of girls was completed in 2012 and Holly Grace Eileen Fay. Before Holly was born my nan died at the age of 96. She always said she would be carried out in a box from Wingate Road (what a thing to say) and she had a fall and never recovered. I took her to hospital as a neighbour had called me who had found my nan and she never recovered. I was glad I was the one who got to be with her during her last few days as she played a massive part in my life moving in with her age 18 in 1992 a boy and leaving a man in 2002. As she lived in a council house in the early 2000’s I had bought the house (not really in line with my now socialist beliefs) and so in September 2012 we were all ready to move back to Wingate Road for a third time in my life and the house that my mum and dad dated from. Sadly my dad never got the see the completely renovated house that he used to knock at to pick my mum up as he had fought off a second bout of cancer in the brain but succumbed to pneumonia. So a hatrick of births matched by a hatrick of deaths. Thus ending what could only be described as around 15 years of my life with more ups and downs that a night out a Cream in the nineties. Births of sprogs 1-3 below.
So need to wrap this up now. So much missed out but recent years have been spent making sure my three daughters have the best upbringing they can have and also maintaining a regular supply of alcohol to Mrs Fay. Recent years have been spent running marathons etc with the sole aim of stopping me exploding. No time to go into three trips to Ibiza the numerous trips away in February but a special mention for the single most best ever ever possible amazing moment in my life and Istanbul 2005. Yes I was there and how can i not forget Glastonbury 2010, 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 & 2017 and hopefully 2019 with ticket day being announced yesterday. Oh shit I became a Great Uncle to Penny and what about my 18th birthday night in Kicks and Scotts and my 21st birthday weekend in the 051 and pickwicks.
So as a birthday treat I am going the match tonight as I always remember thinking how boss would it be to have a match on my birthday. I wrote this the night before my birthday necking some double vodka orange taking me on a trip of a lifetime. I have missed things and people out (Apologies) big thanks and love to all mates both old and recent (Including meeting a whole new Fay family who are not related to me !) To any of my family who have managed to stay alive well done and to the in laws who now play a big part in my life now.
So Neil Fay just one last surprise and the voice from behind the doors is a female one. “Hi Neil its …….” on second thoughts Eamonn bringing out the girl I went out with from 1990-1992 isn’t the best idea as I can see Mrs fay’s face now and I don’t want a fight to match that of Alexis Colby and Krystle Carrington that I watched with my mum back in the day.
45 eh to be continued Grandchildren, Swinging, Benidorm and death !!
Peace
Fay x x x x x x x x x x
Birthday update. Prezzies and a Colin The Caterpillar cake received. It is of course a bank holiday as I have never worked on my birthday. Went for a lovely walk down Otterspool and grabbed some breakfast. Time to head the pub for 4pm and birthday beers and footy.
So at the end of my regular running season in June and that pissed off with running that I didn’t even make the start line for my final race of the season (Port Sunlight 10k) I had a brainwave and signed me and Mrs Fay up for The English Half Marathon in September which is based in Warrington. Normally over the summer and especially during a World Cup year the exercise winds down and the burgers and booze ramps up. The idea was that having a decent distance race in September would mean I have to keep up some kind of running over the summer months for a change. it was a mighty fine idea on paper. Well that was until the warmest summer for about 25 years rocked up. Mrs Fay wasn’t too impressed either but with her already completed a half marathon with Faymondo Fitness Training AKA The Porky Personal Trainer we were going to do this. So here is the story of the challenge. Will it all end in glory or would we be one of the first “no contest” divorces that are going to be brought in ?
So as mentioned the summer was a hot one. There is always an excuse not to go out for a run and heat is right up there but we plodded on early summer and got some 6 mile runs in. Sadly I never achieved the beach body in time for our holiday in Cyprus in mid August. I did actually think of going to the gym in the complex during our holiday for a few runs but the lure of a Keo beer in the swim up bar was just too much temptation. So with the holiday out of the way it was time for the last 4 week push post holiday to get us to the start line for the race. I had managed a plodding half marathon dummy run before I went away so I knew I was in a decent place for the final push. I was lucky coming off the back of my running season which included two full marathons (Get me eh !! ) Mrs Fay however had the hardest ladder to climb coming from a zero base. Luckily the weather in August was more traditional and I dragged Mrs Fay out for training runs often with a scowl on her face and quite a few moans around the routes anything from “I don’t like this road” to “I don’t like running on grass” and ” No stupid routes tonight !” As an experienced fat bastard runner personal trainer I let all the flack bounce off me as previous clients of mine will tell you I get results. As the runs got longer the complaints increased and I used to just put myself in a bubble and think “Imagine a world where there are no contest divorces”
With Mrs Fay putting her longest training run off and off it came to d-day last Friday and she set out on her own to do the 10 miles without me ( I wonder if that was a tactic ? ) she managed to do it but it was hard work at the end. The week leading to race day was surrounded with self doubt and excuse after excuse from Mrs Fay. Distance running is just as much mental as physical and she was met with a “We can do this” from me as I knew that she had reluctantly put in the training needed but it was done and race day would be a good day. So Mrs Fay headed to bed early for a Saturday night as the no sex before a major race rule was invoked. Along side the twice a year rule 1.04 Christmas and Birthdays (I am 45 on Tuesday !! )
So race day came along and up at 7.15 on a Sunday morning for a drive to Warrington and we got out of the car to rain. Mrs Fay was still full of nagging doubts. My main worry was should I wear my waterproof coat. We got to the start line for plenty of time and the normal pre race toilet break was needed. So 9am came and we were soon off and running. Mrs Fay this was it. Lets do this.
After the usual busy start the athletes soon spread out and you could get into your running pattern. A sneaky up hill onto and over a bridge that went over a canal and it transpired that the first 7 miles was sneakily up hill. Nothing major but some long stretches. We were going to sit behind the 2 hours 30 pacer with Mrs Fay thinking she needed to be nearer the 2 hours 45 one but things were going well despite the incline and we moved ahead of the 2:30 pacer. When the hills got on the more steep side of things I would go slightly ahead as my long legs couldn’t physically go any slower and I would then slow down or come back a bit to get back with Mrs Fay. After about 3 miles there was a left for the half marathon runners and a right for the 10k runners. Sadly we had to go left. 7 miles and over half way and after chatting to somebody the course was downhill apart from the small climb over the bridge again and he was correct. Mrs Fay was flying and well on course to smash 02:30. Funny enough she was enjoying the run and very happy with how it was going and not a moan all around the first 10 miles. Heading back into Warrington city centre you could hear the cheers from the end but there were still two miles to eek out. With a surprise turn into The Warrington Wolves stadium running around the pitch and under a stand all that was left was a small incline up into town and then down the other side and along to the finish which were the splendid gates to a park in Warrington. Two of our kids and the in laws had spotted us about 2.5 miles out and then on the home stretch Mrs Fay kicked for home in Ethiopian style and as ever with somebody I help run around I always let them have the victory over me and that was that it was all done in a time of bang on 2 hours 27 mins.
A post race sit down was needed for Mrs Fay and I sneaked off for a wee in some local bogs which has UV light to prevent smackheads but with many male runners in bright orange and lime tops it looked more like a post race rave as the tops and coats glowed under the UV light. Proudly home with our medals Mrs Fay had a bath and I walked the dogs as once that was done all I had planned was a post race snooze followed by sport and a bevy.
After 13.1 miles of sheer hell your gonna get thirsty. This is Desperados. It gets to your thirst fast. Its not Isotonic but its tasty and at 5.9% it gets you pissed. Take sport seriously.
So there we have it. A massive well done to Mrs Fay you literally smashed it and I hope you enjoy your well deserved wine. It didn’t end in divorce but glory. Remember folks The Porky Personal trainer guarantees results. Next on the hit list is an old friend Helen who has just started running and says I can never do a half marathon. Music to my ears.
So Tuesday whilst in work (I work from my office at home) I heard a rustling in the corner of my office. After removing junk from the corner there was nothing there. Must have been a large inset on the paper I removed. Fast forward 10 mins and the rustling started again this time closer to me and to the bottom left corner of the office by my feet. Very strange I had come to the conclusion that there must be a mouse or heavens forbid a rat under my office floor but as it was under the floor I was safe from harm.
So Thursday night I was rudely interrupted at 4.30am by our house alarm going off. That was the cue for me and Mrs Fay to dash downstairs and after a quick check everything was secure and the alarm said it was my office sensor that had been tripped. Again I was thinking fly or insect of some kind but it was near 6am when I got back to sleep due to the adrenaline settling down after bring myself for a would be intruder. I have had a house burgled before and its a very bad experience to go through and one you never quite get over. So because of this I had slightly later than planned start to work on Friday.
Not long into work and I spotted something down to left. A small mouse who looked at me and then buggered off. Aghhhhhhhhhhhh ! Now I might be 6ft 3 inches, scouse and the best part of 17 stone but I am what can only be described as a big shithouse when it comes to rodents, many insects, frogs…………..well you get the picture. The next 30 mins was spent trying to catch the mouse. I say spent but it was Mrs Fay and the sister in law who were trying to catch the mouse whilst I issued instructions through as small gap in the door I had closed. Anyway they couldn’t catch it and I was about to return to work when it literally ran across my desk. Shaking like a shitting dog that was enough for me and I had logged off work (Worst excuse ever for not working set) and went down to the nearest shop to buy a humane mouse trap.
By the time I had got home the house alarm was going off due to our scousemouse and with the trap set I nervously returned to work as being self employed no work equals no pay and this mouse had already cost me sleep and he wasn’t going to cost me wages ! I eventually caught my hours up in work but was a nervous wreck all day jumping out my skin when the dog brushed past my leg and another time when a fly or something landed on me. I needed to go out for a jog (for my own sanity) and gave the neighbour a key and alarm details and said that the alarm might go off as i have a mouse and just switch it off if it does. As if my magic 6 miles and one hour later as I turned the corner into my road the alarm went off. I looked through the crack in my office door and spotted scouse mouse scurrying into my printer !! I later spotted him going back to his favourite corner and I phoned Mrs Fay who brought in another 4 humane traps and we left the alarm off on Friday night. Mouse war was declared at 7.43pm and I went with one trap with some Mars Bar and 4 other traps with peanut butter in. We had also lost a child as the middle daughter stayed out at her nans due to “mouse fear” I mean come on its only a small mouse get over it !!!
Saturday morning and I was up for overtime at 7am and nervously checked all the traps and the little bastard wasn’t in there. A quick check around my office later on and he had actually pulled some of the Mars Bar out of the trap and been munching on it being my computer desk. Thankfully with no sightings on Saturday work was a bit easier but I was still on edge. I had declared to the mouse that Saturday night was going to be his last chance and if he wasn’t caught by Sunday morning then the big guns of normal mouse traps were going to be released as well as I wasn’t heading into a new working week shitting myself over a mouse and if he got splatted then had missed his chance of freedom. I finished work and took the dogs for a walk. I returned from a lovely mouse free walk and thought I will check on the traps. As I opened the office door I could hear the now traditional rustling and was working out where the noise was coming from. As I bravely entered the room I had a visual on traps one and two both returning a negative. Next up the Mars Bar trap the he had cheekily taken some after I got too greedy putting too much in so the mechanics meant he didn’t need go in far enough and he made his escape. This time though the lure of the Mars Bar was too much and he had fallen for the bait. Quickly placed into an empty tin of quality street for a second layer of security we took him to the bottom of Holts Field and away he went (Video on Twitter link below)
I had to film scousemouse being freed so that my middle daughter would come back to live with us and after a stressful few days the house is mouse free and I can relax in work next week. The bigger they are the harder they fall and to be honest i have had a moment even now writing this blog where I have looked nervously down to my leg thinking something had touched it !!
I celebrated the liberation of my office from enemy mice with a trip to The Invisible Wind Factory to watch The Daft Punk Orchestra and took my 19 year old nephew along with me and danced the night away without a mouse care in the world. I even took him to The Cavern Pub and The Cavern which he had never been to ??? I fell in after 2am and had some crackers in my office enjoying the freedom I now had. Obviously no cheese on my crackers as I dont want to temp fate and have a sequel to “Mousegate”
“Schools out for summer” as the song Schools Out by Alice Cooper goes and the kids come jumping and cheering out of school and every parent grimaces unless you are a teacher. As far as I know there isn’t a “Back To Skool” song. The nearest I could get was an old classic ZX Spectrum game “Back to Skool” But a “Back to skool” song should be made and could be accompanied by an orchestra of millions of relieved parents. Tomorrow the youngest goes back to infants and Tuesday will see middle daughter start senior school and the eldest starting her GCSE year (Shit is getting real girl !! ) So you might think that the loud cheers ringing around Aigburth this evening are from The Fusion Festival being held down Otterspool but are in fact me and Mrs Fay cheering and having a bevy on Back To Skool Eve. I say cheering but in reality I am crying into my Desperados as Mrs Fay has informed me it has cost us £400 to uniform thebastards little cherubs. This doesn’t include the two bus passes we need to buy as well. This coming hot on the heals of our family holiday and the added bonus of me being self employed and getting a big fat zero when on holiday if we were a football team we would be teetering on the brink of administration. In reality though we are lucky as we can and will scrape by and after all have just had a week in Cyprus. For many families in Liverpool and across the country uniform time can be a tough time of year. With schools insistent on expensive blazers (I wonder how much of a kick back they get from the shops that provide them) and some insisting on PE kits being embroidered with names on ? With lab coats and other things “needed” in schools the bill soon racks up and thats before bags and back to school pens etc and of course the all important compass so you can stab yer mates with it. So bring on national “Take a picture of your kids in front of the front door in their uniform” day
This summer seems to have gone faster than normal and its hard at times working from home with the gang in the house for two reasons (A) They are noisy and (B) you just want to be off with them as well but we are here September 2nd and we have made it through just about even if the youngest was testing at times towards the end of the holidays. The eldest is rounding the weekend off with two days down at The Fusion Festival getting on a “workers” bands following proudly in the footsteps of her father who was an “Artist” last Saturday at Creamfields for an access all areas Saturday festival appearance CREAMFIELDS blog here
The summers excess is taking a toll on my waistline which was made worse by the fact that it was a World Cup year and the weather just screamed “Drink Cider, Drink Cider” at me. But two weeks today me and Mrs Fay are doing The English Half Marathon in Warrington and this is the start of my next challenge with coincides with me being 45 on the 18th September. I have set myself a challenge of doing one half marathon race a month from September 2018 to August 2019. I hate the fives so my challenge is to be fitter and slimmer when I reach 46 then I was when I was 26 !!!
So as we are on the second day of autumn in the weather world and many of you know me via my @Liverpoolweath Twitter page of Liverpool Weather Facebook Page I can confirm that this summer has gone as below.
Summer stats for Liverpool (June-Aug)
Ave Temp 19.50c
Ave summers 91-17 17.48c.
Max 32.2c 26th & 29th June
9 days 30c or over.
Rain 122.4mm
Ave rain 04-17 220.2mm
A hotter and drier summer than average
Only 1995 beat it for temp 19.85c
Driest summer on my records (from 2004)
So at last we have had a boss summer even if it did just tail off a bit in August. I am gonna have a boss next week as the kids are back in school. But sadly things are not great in the world as the headline below shows. Let this evenings back to school party commence with a Desperados and I have even bought myself a little Colin The Caterpillar cake and remember never let your sister die you a designer vagina.
Peace
Fay x x x x x x x x x x
Yerrrrrrrrsssss they really are back to school get in :0)
