It’s 8 am and the eastern wind blows through the deserted high street of Rock Ferry. I haven’t spotted any tumbleweed yet, but with the gathering winter wind, yet to reach full potential; it’s surely just around the corner. I seek shelter and the public house is the preferred choice. Approaching the entrance, I remove my gloves and attempt to open the doors. (more…)
When my mum was alive, she sat in the same chair each night, listening to talk shows on her wireless. She usually had headphones on, turning the volume on her hearing aid to zero; probably to avoid my father’s pointless comments of the day from The Liverpool Echo. (more…)
Ruby, who’s 11, is taking her statutory assessments soon. Sats put pressure on everyone in the school system to perform, and they start the process of weeding and selecting kids to fit with society’s norms. They’re also a big waste of teacher’s and children’s time. (more…)
The recent ‘Times Up’ campaign exposing Hollywood’s sordid past is long overdue. The solidarity that was witnessed at the Baftas and the Oscars, particularly by Francis McDormand, displayed a new togetherness, and hopefully a change is gonna come. (more…)
My father used to smell of work,
of bricks and mortar, wood and earth.
His hands looked like wood, weathered and rough,
strong when he held me and gentle to touch. (more…)
If one word could describe Belle and Sebastian’s gig at the Philharmonic Hall, that word would be ‘joyous’. (more…)
(with apologies to Gil Scott-Heron)
You will be able to stay home, Brother.
You will be able to sit down, turn on and just watch.
You will be able to lose yourself on curry and chips,
and nip out for beer during the commercials,
because the revolution will be televised.