The New Normal

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Apologies for the delay. I must admit that lockdown, childcare and WFH meant that I have dramatically changed the way I have interacted with media: sharing more than usual, to keep others in touch; buying more newspapers at the weekend (and spreading them over the week, letting them last longer) avoiding social media and TV where possible and then changing my background listening habits: no more Talk S***e, more classical music via Scala Radio and loads of Radio 6.

It’s mad that, with two young ‘uns, this past couple of months I have actually felt like I’ve had less time than before, what with doing my own work, then teaching the kids KS2 and Early Years curricula, then doing the jobs around the house &  trying to keep in touch with far away family. Don’t get me wrong – we’ve been very lucky.

But I read about people being bored, struggling for motivation… back in March, the lockdown period apparently offered great opportunities for life changes: finally catching up on all those books gathering dust on the shelves and afternoons cosied up watching classic movies… but the reality was that I don’t think I’ve even scratched the surface.

However, whilst the workload hasn’t really changed that much, there’s been so much to celebrate given that mornings and evenings have been my own again, for the first time in a long time. Reconnecting with nature – birds singing in the skies, wild flowers growing in the pavement cracks, tadpoles and froglets in the park, insects buzzing around creating awe and wonder (I’ve been stung by a bee, we discovered an amazing paper wasp in the conservatory) and growing herbs, flowers, fruit and vegetables has been almost cathartic.

I even saved the life of a fledgling starling who had strayed from the family nest. It was hiding under a car, and as we passed by a neighbour acting strangely, she explained the situation and that a magpie was after said baby. I offered to help, got down on the ground and carefully reached for it but the first attempt was futile: it flapped its way out of my grasp, with its family squawking and shrieking away overhead. Thankfully, a second effort was more productive and I felt like Billy Casper whilst tentatively passing it over to the lady with the all important carrier to protect it. What was mad was that the very same day, our old mate Andre Gomes was himself rescuing birds and proudly showing off the fact:

What was not so mad, however, was that the very next evening, whilst in the front for our weekly applause for the wonderful NHS, B was very upset to discover a slightly younger – and decidedly dead – starling chick, dumped carelessly in one of our flower pots. We did the decent thing and offered it a nice burial in the back, but I was somewhat unsettled to see what must have been one of its parents the following morning desperately searching the vicinity for it, still with food in its mouth. It kept returning to the nest (in the eaves of the house opposite) in astonishment that its offspring had disappeared. Like I said, nature… awe-inspiring, but not necessarily beautiful.

Meanwhile, I’ve been baking loads and perfecting the art of the loaf; I even finally understood the difference between all the different types of flour not on the shelves; spent hours searching for the essentials like all the different types of flour, wipes, toilet rolls and everything else we all took for granted in the years BC; cooking more elaborately than ever; drinking gallons of homemade fruit juice and Earl Grey, even creating (and discovering) a love of Lego…. self-improvement.

It’s another of the myriad clichés of lockdown. The home made haircuts, the good intentions, the getting on better with your neighbours… running out of paint, having a new found admiration for those often overlooked… panic buying, the pub quiz, video chats… missing family like mad, wearing leisure wear out, avoiding the news… wondering if it’ll be this way forever.

The positives prevail, though. Some people have been incredibly kind and generous; we returned the favours in secret (in the caffe sospeso style, more of which later!). We’ve caught up on years of sleep. We have grown closer as a family unit. The kids are making huge strides in their learning, even learnt to ride bikes, skip, form letters, make play dough. Amazingly, I’ve sat down to paint and draw portraits for something every exciting that will be revealed soon enough… even life drawing along with the BBC programme.

And, as a couple, too, we’ve even had the time to sit down and do the quizzes, juggle the laptop to work as required and watch TV together most evenings (and not football, other than those excellent, nostalgic highlights packages at weekends which reminded me of a time when football was better… no, a time when football actually mattered) whilst at first, everyone raved over some American film website but I didn’t get a chance to watch anything on there before it was blocked.

However, I’ve really enjoyed the quality time without distraction going through the various streaming channels and the nearly full Sky planner. Anyone who, like me, was late to the party, we’re just finishing Ozark. Jason Bateman has been great ever since his reluctant father-to-be in Juno, and there’s the delectable Laura Linney, but the real star of the show was the quite brilliant Julia Garner. Bits of it were dark A F but a fascinating insight into the workings of drug cartels and middle America, nonetheless.

Meanwhile, with said children to entertain, I’ve spent a lot of time re-evaluating Disney films and series and would recommend hidden gems on there, such as ‘Adventures in Babysitting’, an under-rated Elisabeth Shue classic from my childhood about a nightmarish evening in charge of kids. I’ve also been re-watching, for comfort, La Haine, Anthony Bourdain’s travel series, Bizarre Foods America and V for real nostalgia.


Whilst painting various walls and ceilings, I listened to a plethora of podcasts too. Initially I was put off by the idea of Quickly Kevin, a 90s football show, but the more I’ve listened to it the better it’s got. It involves comedians – 90s football aficionados – interviewing figures including Pat Nevin, who has some fascinating stories to tell… there are also some incredible stories about the likes of Richard Keys and other seminal 90s football figures, and a series of film critiques in which they dissect football films such as When Saturday Comes and Hot Shot – which, having subsequently watched, is one of the worst films ever let alone football-themed films.


Another Podcast I have really enjoyed, which is admittedly a longer and very much more cerebral listen, is The Rewatchables in which film buffs discuss classic movies in real detail. My favourite, for pure nostalgia, was the one about The Karate Kid, although the best in terms of celebration was the one about Ferris Bueller’s Day Off as it forced me to re-evaluate it as potentially, one of the best movies ever made. Anyone into weird stuff might also like Frank Skinner’s poetry podcasts (especially the one on the beat poets, which made me finally pick up my copy of Kerouac’s On The Road years after picking it up in Blackpool Poundland) and Cillian Murphy’s weekly shows on R6 presenting some of his own eclectic music collection.

A final cultural gem has been some of the stuff Trickett have been offering. The editor of WSAG, fanzine I write for, got me into these guys and their quality of product, service and personalised communication is really top notch. Like me, they’re obsesses with Naples (dove il caffe e colto) and most recently I bought some incredible Passalacqua coffee from them for my morning espresso, and us all a Cornicella – a beautiful Neapolitan lucky charm, horn shaped and hand made in Naples – to ward off any evil spirits and bring us luck through these troubled times.

Trickett also do this amazing thing involving buying socks for homeless people, inspired by the Neapolitan tradition of ‘caffe sospeso’ (‘suspended’ or ‘pending’ coffee) which is basically a coffee paid for in advance, as an act of charity or good will. People who had themselves experienced good luck – perhaps as a result of a cornicello – would go and buy two to celebrate, but leave the second for someone less fortunate. Further research has led me to a fascinating movement spreading across the world, and documented in the Netflix documentary ‘Coffee For All’) and I think, links nicely to the great stories of humanity that have cut through the darkness of recent weeks.

Talk of Naples makes me pine for Italy (we should have been off to Palermo next week) and the natural next step, calcio. As for the return of football, life will eventually go on – although not for the forty thousand ish Britons (let that sink in for a minute, the capacity of the Old Lady) who will have succumbed to this terrible disease. Should the season be concluded, things won’t really change for me, apart from not being able to go the pub to watch any televised games, but it was only recently that I realised how much I will miss the match-going experience, even if I only go half a dozen times a season. God forbid how I’d be feeling if I still had my treasured season ticket… but it’s still only a game, of course, and life is more important.

It was only last weekend that its absence really got to me: an innocuous thread on Twitter by Andy Burnham, which led to me spending an hour in the kitchen whilst cooking tea listening to his Spotify ‘Everton 11’ and I was fine at first but when certain songs kicked in, I started to fill up and then had full on tears in my eyes (and it wasn’t just the onions) because I realised how much life overall has changed – football, politics, music – and how it might be this way for a long while yet.

Memories of yesteryear keep flooding back. A friend sent me some amazing photos for my uni days: I thought about how carefree we were. As Mel C sang with Lisa ‘Left Eye’ Lopes around the same time: “It’s Just the beginning it’s not the end; things will never be the same again… “ They kind of had a point… but I’d like to think it can only be for the better.

Let’s, instead, end with two U2 songs: The End is the Beginning is the End / The Beginning is the End is the Beginning.

It Will Change Everything (Dark is Necessary / Dark is Fascinating)

When last we met, things seemed quite positive: of course, I hinted at the possible spread of a contagion, but I was full of praise for shows and restaurants now closed indefinitely because – due to said illness – the world changed forever in a very short space of time.

I admit I’ve been very worried about people and things, but trying to stay as normal as possible whilst thinking a lot about a film by Lars Von Trier which I watched a few years ago: a surreal creation, entitled Melancholia, about the world ending and everyone preparing for it in different ways as the titular planet headed for earth, looming ever larger with nothing anyone could do about it.

The omnipresent news of Covid-19 spreading and subsequent measures being taken, evoked memories of that movie, and it very quickly felt like the end of the world as we knew it. Initially, I felt far from fine, but have grown to accentuate the positives in possibly the most negative era of our lifetimes, and so devote this month’s blog to the good things about the way we have been living a little differently: still working, but thinking more carefully about everything given the restrictions imposed.

Activities

The day before things changed dramatically was Mothering Sunday, and taking Boris’s advice, we went for an afternoon walk in the Springtime sun. I think we saw Don Carlo on his daily stroll around Blundellsands; just my luck that, on the first proper day of covering up, the need for social distancing left me wondering further whether it really was him because I didn’t shout over for a selfie so as to avoid unnecessary worry. This exercise became a welcome highpoint of days spent indoors (not exactly writing frightening verse) but teaching from – and at – home.

Shopping for essentials, too, became a surreal experience as I queued up outside businesses awaiting being invited inside, only to see sad, desolate shelves which had been ransacked by the more fortunate few. Still, home baking wins for many – and, as some of our favourite restaurants closed indefinitely, it was admirable to see so many try to keep calm and carry on with home delivery services – I’ve been making bread and more memorable meals than would normally be possible. 

Comfort food is what we need right now so it’s just and fitting that Jamie Oliver should be presenting his recipes daily, given that he has been involved in several other social projects linked to eating over the years. Many clamoured for the promotion of other chefs to this important role, without realising the privileged background and grammar school education one in particular had had. Anyway, I’ve made Jamie’s Veg Chilli  – which went down well – and we’re going to do the pizzas next. Even been cleaning up more, with the help of an amazing revelation: Pink Stuff, which works wonders when the shops had little else on offer.

(Wow, how this blog has changed from an introspective MA Fine Art project to recommending cleaning products, ten years down the line!)

Then, when time allows, DIY… with an impending Ikea delivery due next week, any spare time has been spent painting and tidying up the garden so easily neglected in the tumult of term time. It’s been quite calming to paint walls and ceilings whilst listening to myriad…

Podcasts

The best ones I’ve listened to recently were the Adi Dassler, Elvis and George Best episodes of Evil Genius, in which the panel discussed the good and bad sides of said icons; the always brilliant Two Shot Podcast which I have started to contribute to – the Karl Pilkington episode was particularly hilarious, especially when he discusses the seminal quiz show ‘Bullseye’. Go listen. Then, there’s the surreal Everything is Alive which is like nothing I’ve ever heard; however, it does evoke memories of past projects such as the one for which I won a prestigious Orange Futures award back in 2002.

Here I am, as I was back then:

It’s basically interviews with objects brought to life: for example, a married couple made up of a Sharpie pen and its lid, or a real highlight, the magic 8 ball who only answers questions with real 8 ball responses. Then, of course, there are those on football-when-there-is-no-football (Guardian football, Nessun Dorma and the excellent Kevin Quickly which covers 90s football, my era) bringing back nice memories, as did my choices this month of…

Music

Working from the comfort of home allowed morning listening of my back catalogue of CDs, many of which had been neglected for years. I’ve been particularly enjoying Gomez and Bill Ryder Jones, as well as new releases by Blossoms, Tame Impala and (of course) Morrissey.

The real discovery of self isolation, though, is a new love of classical music, especially Scala FM – the laid back birdsong and calming movies / musicals scores have been the perfect soundtrack to troubled times. It’s also a nice accompaniment to… 

Reading

Before things changed, I taught a class about Ray Bradbury, because his short story ‘There Will Come Soft Rains’ felt very relevant to current events. In it, a series of machines and objects continue to carry out their daily chores and routines in an imagined future – 2026 – without any of the humans they thought they were serving. I taught about the story not to scaremonger, just to show that a story doesn’t always need people in it, but it really got me thinking. As I said, health worries and money concerns are prevalent for all of us, meaning sleepless nights and anxieties. At home, the first time my little girl excitedly made contact with the friends she misses so much (the screams of glee are heard several times daily since) brought tears to my eyes: none of them fully understanding the enormity of this absence.

As an escape, I’ve tried to avoid the news where possible. I have instead read about Ancelotti’s leadership; updated my self on world events (especially Italy – the troubles in Palermo, where we should have been going next month for my belated birthday treat, and this incredible account of how life is on the mainland there) but also created a distraction for the whole family of a daily puzzles hour. This has often involved a quiz: so many have been shared by friends and families and that togetherness has made a real difference. And, thankfully, it stopped us from turning on the…

TV

Many things we have watched have actually helped: Joe Wicks and old Everton matches on YouTube; the dawn of Disney+ (although High School Musicals 1-3 can do one now) where The Mandalorian was excellent, Mickey Mouse memory-making, Honey I Shrunk The Kids reminding us of happier times; on Netflix, the brilliant Ozark (and weirdly watchable Tiger King) then on Catch Up: War of the Worlds (which made the city look amazing) and then Breeders, which is basically my life story, and The Trip to Greece: more of the same perfection.

Plus, there was time for a film one night: Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool, an emotive and beautiful tale… also, the Tyson Fury documentaries I caught up with. He may divide opinion (especially withhis own opinions) but I have a soft spot for him, having grown up in the same town where he now lives, and I really admired how he opened up about his own demons before trying to help others in a similar boat. One of the best sports stories of all, Rocky, seems to be being replayed out before our very eyes.

Also, despite not playing, Everton have also helped me maintain a decent level of mental health, thanks to…

Social Media

FaceTiming family members, even fleetingly, has become essential. House Party, despite concerns. Even TV programmes have used presenters’ homes and technology to keep calm and carry on. However, in a fortnight when I dread to think how many WhatsApp messages I’ve received from bored friends and colleagues (ranging from heartfelt enquiries and shopping recommendations, to inappropriate jokes about a serious subject and quizzes I wish I had the time to do) it was refreshing to actually see something good on social media and the Thursday evening Clap for Carers project we love taking part in to show our admiration and respect in a small but symbolic way.

In terms of football, lots of individuals have made a difference but as a Blue it was great to hear the positive impact the club and its employees have had on many vulnerable groups and individuals: teaching languages, sharing nutritional advice… Again, I filled up seeing the phone calls players and coaching staff were making (as well as Bill Kenwright) and, as if the surreality couldn’t bite any more, my own two were transfixed by Lucas Digne’s soothing bedtime story the club put out.

And Finally

Eight years ago tonight, I was finalising my wedding speech. It was inspired and underpinned by the lyrics of a little known Courteeners song, ‘The Last of the Ladies’ and it had the refrain tattooed over my heart as a reminder of that important life event.

That I had the luck a few year later to – somewhat embarrassingly – proudly show the writer / singer of said song, said tattoo, was more than serendipitous given we were celebrating an anniversary that very day, but symbolises some of the magic moments we have spent every 5th April in memory of that day. 

I’m talking a carousel themed restaurant whilst enceinte in Nice; L’Enclume in the lakes; discussing music choices with Adam Reid at The French, Manchester; getting shown around the kitchens at Northcote; last year, Pep’s Catalan on King St with David Silva, that sort of thing… all of this brings us to this weekend and our ‘bronze’ wedding anniversary. The world is a different place to what it was on the seventh; even a few weeks back, when I excitedly booked Six by Nico by way of celebration and instead will now be celebrating indoors with a takeaway, if we are lucky.

Spending such a period of time with the family is a blessing, and I suppose links nicely back to the vows we took on that Thursday back in 2012 about sickness and health and all that… though I never expected anything like this to prove it.

Stay safe; look after each other.

More. Again. Forever. (A Curious Thing)

When last we met, I was discussing all things Italian.

Since then, the country has been in the news for a fast spread of Covid-19 and the subsequent panic across the rest of Europe. That this pandemic was predicted in a horror novel several years ago, could be a storyline from a Twilight Zone episode – or hints at time travel – and, as if by magic, there is much more on all of this later.

However, we start with pizza.

Half term was made up of halcyon days and moments. A trip to Il Capitano’s, our local pizzeria, was one of the real highlights: given that I celebrated my fortieth there, it’s a special place anyway what with the warm welcome you get and the excellent ingredients used, but this visit was even better than the first, thanks to the specials we ordered. A Tuscan sausage and broccoli white pizza; a frutti di mare (including clams) without cheese and, best of all, the Carbonara pizza which was like nothing I’ve tasted on a base before.

In fact, I’d go so far as to say this place’s pizza is the best I’ve had in the eight years of domestic bliss since our honeymoon in Naples (where I even went to the birthplace of the dish) and, possibly, in this country. Given my affection for the Neapolitan riviera – and my experiences tasting pizza in a variety of establishments over the years – that’s high praise indeed, so I’d recommend you go there ASAP.

A very different – but just as impressive – meal experience awaited us a few days later. We’d been looking forward to visiting Kala Bistro in Manchester since before it had opened, and – having already been to Pinion a couple of times and Wreckfish, too – knew it was going to be special. I spoke last time of my admiration for Gary Usher and discussed his management style (as well as Nike trainers) with our brilliant waiter. We opted for the fixed price lunch as we were on our way to somewhere special, and ended up swapping meals half way through so that the other could enjoy the myriad flavours and textures the excellent starters and main courses provided.

I started with a Gin Mare and some delightfully marinated olives, then the gorgeously pink pate whilst WW went for the smoked haddock fishcake with a pretty green parsley mayonnaise and a celeriac remoulade. Really fresh flavours, matching the bottle of Provence Rose we’d picked perfectly. Then, a beautiful bream with some amazing cucumber & spring onion salad before swapping for the unctuous pork knuckle with fennel orzo, macadamia, salsa verde and a treacley sauce, accompanied by some tenderstem broccoli with anchovy mayo. Finally, what the missus described as the ‘best Crunchie ever’ chocolate and honeycomb semifreddo, whilst I devoured a tawny port with some lovely Lincolnshire Poacher.

Quite simply, delicious and cool in equal measure.


Then it was on to the Opera House and something we’d been looking forward to for years since the potential Back To The Future Musical was mooted. We got the tickets the day they were announced last year, meaning we were there two days after the world premiere. This also meant there were several uber-fans present in the audience, whose outfits made the event all the more memorable. I saw a few Docs – coincidentally, whom I was dressed as by a group of excitable women during my 80s themed surprise thirtieth birthday party –  and a few more Marties, including one guy who went the whole hog and had not only the cap and auto-fit jacket from BTTF2 but also the Nike trainers I’ve longed dreamed about and it was the first time I saw them in real life. I was in awe but didn’t take a picture as he was there with his little daughter (about the same age as B) and I was really impressed that he had introduced her to the trilogy at such a young age.

Even the couple in front of us in the theatre had brought their young son, replete with Marty McFly ‘life preserve’ and double denim and, do you know what?

He was called Elijah.

The performance itself was incredible and probably the best on-stage production we’ve ever seen. That the creative team behind this had done one of my favourite films such justice made me cry real tears at one point in the afternoon. Yes, the power of love right there: tears of joy, of wonder, recalling one of my earliest trips to the cinema and a lasting image throughout the years since then, included at seminal moments and still enjoyed and the gift that keeps on giving. For example, I heard recently that Biff Tannen – the misogynist bully – is based on Donald Trump! 

And, only tonight, a contestant on Mastermind had the Trilogy as her specialist subject (I had chosen it as one of mine when I applied a couple of years ago: tonight I would have got 9, and she got 10, although I’d have beaten her overall) but, back to the show, the cast were amazing at recreating the iconic characters from the original film and the writers were very clever in their adaptations. The sound and the effects were incredible, too, and as for the DeLorean: you’ll have to see it to understand why I was so taken with the show. 

Even seeing the original actors now, can be emotive:

Afterwards, we enjoyed a few drinks in Spinningfields at the Oast House with old friends for a lovely catch up and subsequently missed the train home, meaning a couple more at the Atlas Bar, which was nice.

The following week, things went back to normal and I eagerly anticipated the return of The Twilight Zone. It was somewhat serendipitous that the first episode might have been based on a podcast episode, after I’d written last month about how certain Podcasts had changed my life, and – as if by magic – I time-travelled back to my MA studies ten years ago when a fortune cookie also changed my life and I learned there had previously been a Twilight Zone episode about a similar situation.

This time around , the first episode was a very clever conceit wherein a guy listens to a podcast on a flight about the flight he is actually on; art imitating life, and podcasts resonating with a listener’s current situation… you couldn’t have made it up. I thought I was in the Twilight Zone myself, a feeling confirmed the following morning when I heard a bizarre story on the radio about someone buying an engagement card which was already written in. This led to an investigation over about a week, with the aim of hunting down the couples in question and then solving the mystery.

In the end, it was pretty straightforward, but it all reminded me of projects from the past – messages, notes, found communication forming fabricated narratives – which I (somewhat serendipitously) stumbled upon when preparing to decorate the back room and the discovery took me back in time.

Not quite thirty years, but still a time when things seemed easier. After this week, it would be understandable to go even further back in time to when people were quarantined, houses sectioned off, animals made scapegoats and people wore elaborate contraptions as panic as well as a disease spread like wildfire. Sadly, exciting events planned for the next few weeks have been postponed (a reunion with Andre Gomes, ‘Brewster’s Millions’ the musical) but this obviously means very little when people are dying.

Talking of football and spending money a nice little coincidence also occurred this week as my mum took my lad to Bootle Strand as he loves the myriad vehicles there. It was her first visit, so we discussed the place in detail. Very little surprises me in this world, but I was startled to see Carlo was also there only two days later. Things like all this make you question what exactly is going on and what will happen next…