Return to Liberty City - 10 years on

2002 was a pretty good year. I was 29, Middlesbrough were holding their own in the Premiership (a recent league table shows that we're 13th in the entirety of its existence and proves the damage just one bad season can do to a club); I had a dream job in London with the BBC and the World Cup in Japan and South Korea was taking place around my birthday on June 17 which meant lager for breakfast for three weeks. No wonder I weighed 30 pounds heavier than I do now on the breakfast of champions!

In fact my 29th birthday was one of those legendary sessions you look back on and wonder if they actually happened - it culminated with me jumping on a table and leading a whole pub in a rendition of The Riddle by Nik Kershaw.

It was also the first time I encountered Grand Theft Auto 3. I had heard all about the series notoriety, where the aim was to steal cars, shoot people and generally cause as much mayhem as possible. Three was the first in the series that was 3d and a 'sandbox'  game, which means that although you do have missions and aims to accomplish,  you can pretty much go anywhere and do anything you liked. I spent most of my actual birthday playing it and several of the following weeks. I completed it which I very rarely did and revisited it subsequently over the following months. While not as accomplished as its later sequels such as Vice City, set in 80s Miami, and still very much the perfect game, it was a glimpse into the possible, along with the chance to be someone else, albeit in a reduced digitally simulated New York. For somebody who hardly got a parking ticket the vicarious thrill of being a criminal was electric.

10 years later and a lot has changed for me and the computer game. As a father and husband I hardly ever game anymore and really don't have the time and money to invest in the massive online multi player extravaganzas that pass for games today.

This weekend I noticed that my old flame, GTA3 was available for my Android phone for the incredible price of $0.99. It was the 10th anniversary edition which if nothing else made me feel really old!
Revisiting the streets of Liberty was a lot like visiting any old town where you used to live. You recognise routes and short cuts when you see them and songs and familiar faces from times past remind you of previous fun tines and nights.  Except in this case they literally haven't aged a day, they are parts of a game whereas a whole decade of life has happened to you in the meantime.

After the initial euphoria wears off and you slip back into gear it is a pleasing temporary retread of a happy and important part of your past, as my trip back to Bicester and Oxford before Christmas was last year but the reality is that unlike a game, life moves in, you grow and evolve and even worse, if you screw up in real life you can't just save and try again!

It's good fun and I'll complete it again aoin,  definitely looking forward to Vice City coming out and it will be great to show Vince what his old man did before I even met his mother but in the intervening years I did find something even better than a simulated American Life - a real one.

The Black Mirror Crack'd

Vince has spent the past month in school and really enjoyed himself, much more than I thought he would. He has played with the other kids and learned to interact more, is happier and more responsible and focused. We went to the school to meet the teachers and staff and hear their recruitment pitch for the next school year starting in August. Vince already has a place at another school but they love him so much they want him to stay and inspire the other children. At the very least, it's flattering and nice to be wanted. Something were going to think about before August anyway.

I pulled my smartphone out on the way to the car to turn the volume back on but inevitably, it slipped through my fingers and lands face down in on the concrete with a sickening crunch. The backplate lying inches away like an auto accident victim awaiting the authorities. I gingerly picked it up still believing in miracles to be greeted by the spiderweb spreading across the previous pristine screen. It worked and still functioned, so the damage is purely cosmetic but what could be more important?


Since unwrapping the smooth black mirror that would take over my life ever so subtly, I have been in love with my phone. The average person checks their smartphone once every six minutes - or 150 times a day, but this is probably a lower end estimate in my case. I love being connected and permanently on and subscribe to the research coming out from Japan about Internet addiction and a real and palpable sense of loss when not connected. The idea that the world is going on without you and not only do you not know what is happening. But you cannot influence or comment either - the true power of Social Media - the illusion of influence.

It's no coincidence that the modern smartphone looks like the black monolith in 2001 A Space Odyssey - the discovery of which signifies the next evolutionary growth of mankind. It symbolizes your evolution into something more, you2.0, the kind of person who would own this device.

The black mirror is the same one that Snow White's stepmother uses. You can see what you want to see by looking within and be the fairest of them all in whichever world you choose to inhabit, this one, Facebook, Twitter, G+ or any other. Heck, turn your screen off and look at your reflection in the black glass - you even look better!

After my initial shock and disappointment I got hold of myself and realized that this is the worst thing that will happen today and this week - so that's a mental deal, but also, all that really happened is a phone broke, my status, position as a father and husband is unchanged and unaffected. The phone s still works - you wouldn't take a car back if it had a scratch - so on we go.


I guess the phone is a metaphor for growth - have I truly outgrown my original needs and neurosis? Can I ignore surface setbacks if we are moving I the right direction if nothing has fundamentally changed? Let's hope there's an app for that.

Chicago

I've been very lucky in my time in the States to head to several of the great cities for bidness and conferences. The latest being Chicago - the mid-West metropolis on the Western short of Lake Michigan.  I was attending a Social Media conference for education workers with all the glamour and sex appeal that implies.

My flight was in the morning so I had an earlier start and wanted one last taste of the South before heading up country so I treated myself to a Chick-Fil-A biscuit (basically a scone with a bread-crumbed chicken breast in it) with some hash browns and a great mug of tea - heavenly.  Rather than fight through midtown traffic, I left the car at a MARTA station and took the train straight into the terminal in less than an hour.

I'm glad I took my jacket because Atlanta's sunny 70s soon turned into the Windy City's 50s for the duration of the trip.  My early impressions from the train from the airport to the city where that is was a bit of a hybrid city. The outskirts and suburbs reminded me of London somewhat with the cramped townhouses and flats over shops and an elevated train line running between. The El as it is known locally sits above the main highways of the city giving a claustrophobic but unique experience when you exit and walk along the grid system city streets.

You take a turn and then you are across the river with magnificent views of the imposing mix of classic and new buildings and architecture. On first sight it really is breathtaking, particularly the corncob buildings next to the hotel I was staying in.  I'd rather have been there. After the customary mix-up in reception with my reservation, the room was decidedly average for what I paid for it.

The conference itself was really pertinent and useful. Fantastic food for all three days and a plethora of interesting people to meet and talk/tweet with. A quirk of modern conferences is that nobody applauds clever lines anymore. You are greeted with a tapping of iPad screens and smartphones and the occasional - 'have you got a link for that picture?'

I tried some authentic Chicago deep dish Pizza and hot dogs while here. Chicagoans are proud of their city and their history and rightly so; every bar and restaurant has pictures of the city in prior decades and have a good mix of sporting starts like Michael Jordan and Walter Payton to Al Ca pone and his cohorts from the 1920s. We went to a Chop House for dinner on the final night and it was an experience. Incredible decor and service, reasonable prices considering the surroundings and a corner seat with spectacular views of the city at night. I sometimes feel intimidated in settings like this and can get a little chippy but my dining colleagues, who come from quite posh North East colleges put me at ease through their ease. That's one of the benefits of coming to events that take you out of your regular comfort zone, surroundings and peer groups. If you don't, you'll be limiting your experiences and growth.

The final day ended at lunchtime so I had some hours before my flight back to Atlanta. I spent it walking around the East side of the city near the Art institute, Brook Park and the Yacht Club. It is a fascinating mixture of all kinds of buildings and surroundings. Gleaming corporate towers stand beside brownstone tenements; Classical 20s and 30s Art Deco portico's merge with modern restaurants and art. The phenomenal  'living fountains' were incredible up close

I got back to the Airport in good time but it reminded me that even the most special achievements such as flight can be rendered mundane by inattention to detail and poor service. The United Airlines hub was little more than a glorified bus station, with seemingly one working powerpoint in the whole terminal. Once onboard, things took a more serious turn as a passenger three rows in front of me began having a seizure. We diverted to Indianapolis for an hour or so while he was given attention and helped off the plane for observation.  We finally arrived back two hours behind schedule and straight into a hyper-busy weekend with Vince - taking in the Big Shanty festival in Kennesaw - where Vince met one of his heroes - Elmo!

The funny thing is, I feel like I've been behind the 8-ball all week, out of sync somehow. I finally realised why today. Chicago is on Central Time; Atlanta on Eastern so the process of losing and gaining an hour, however imperceptibly has thrown me off a little. Hopefully a peaceful weekend (fat chance with a junior rangers event at Kennesaw Mountain Battlefield and Middlesbrough's all-or-nothing final game of the season at 7:30am EST) will get me back on track. 

Don't Look Back in Anger

An unusual chance to revisit a segment of my youth this week as I had to attend a rock club for work to cover a band showcase for 10 aspiring artists in Atlanta that Kennesaw Students have managed and mentored for the past few weeks. Clips can be found here but the experience of being out and about in a club on a school night was an interesting one.

I parked at the mall across the street to Smith's Olde Bar in Atlanta and went into the upstairs room where the gig was being held. It was going to be cramped, hot and sweaty, and not in a good way so got a seat and a table before the place filled up.  The thought of standing at a gig these days fills me with dread and fatigue, let alone actually doing it.  I met up with a couple of mates and we swapped old war stories about previous concerts past - The Who at Madison Square Garden in 2000, still my best ever gig; the colossal disappointment of Bob Dylan at Wembley Arena one year; the story of a good friend of mine hearing a cover of 'Street Spirit Fade Out' while at the bar of the Zodiac Club in Oxford and thinking 'that guys good, he sounds just like Thom Yorke' before going back in for the end and finding it was Thom Yorke making a surprise appearance. The memories of 20 years of expensive, weak lager, inadequate toilet facilities and air conditioning, concert ring in the ear taking days to settle down, completely impossible to understand conversations with strangers, in effect my youth came back as we watched what was a quite well ordered, well mannered show.

The audience are always the same, just the jeans get longer/shorter, wider/tighter.  This years crop is bearded, plaid shirt attired and hat-wearing. Maybe not since before the 1950s with the advent of the teenager have kids dressed more like their grandparents. They are also non-drinking, although mainly because the age in Georgia is 21.

It's always nice to visit an old friend and catch-up on old times but I was yawning by 10:30pm, thinking about Vince getting up at the crack of dawn and making his breakfast and coffee for Stacey and I was glad to be driving home to Woodstock, back to my real life again.

"Those days are passed now. And in the past they must remain"
From Flower of Scotland by Roy Williamson

Moon

The biggest brightest full moon of the year corresponds with the Easter weekend, perennial time of rebirth and renewal. The whole month of April has seen as much with the various trees and bushes bursting into colourful life along with record breaking pollen counts and temperatures usually seen in June alone.

Life in Woodstock also follows a curiously upward trajectory as family life and work are as pleasant as it gets. I achieved a modicum of professional and personal validation this week after being interviewed on the subject of project glass, googles interactive glasses by the Associated Press and my quote was in over 20 newspapers and websites the world over. Conclusive proof that I sometimes know what I'm talking about and that twitter is worth bothering with after all.

We've attended several easter egg hunts and vince has surpassed all expectations - getting enough candy to keep me and his mum happy and well fed and sharing his finds with kids who didn't find any eggs so everybody was happy. Never to early to instill honest socialist values into your kids.

Looks like summer is going to last seven months this year so the shorts and pasty twiglets that pass for my legs these days come out. Happy Days.

Pollen your weight

I've been very lucky with allergies. So far only certain kinds of dust get on my wick and I have a low level allergy to dogs, sadly discovered last year.

Sadly because I love dogs and grew up with several poodles over the years. Among many benefits of owning these highly intelligent, loyal and fun dogs, is that they don't shed hair.  One of the worst things about going to a real dog lovers house is coming out looking like you are wearing a Bigfoot skin coat due to all the hair you've picked up. Sadly, like most dogs, it's the saliva that does you in, not hair so even poodles are iut, and I'm darned if I'm going to have one of those hypoallergenic monstrosities, that look like a special effect from 'The Fly' roaming around the house. 

This is a roundabout way of saying that this past week has been hell for vince and Stacey. Both are allergic to tree and grass pollen and in Atlanta this week we have seen record breaking high pollen counts forcing them both, and many others to live as recluses for the week. 

Everybody's cars had a thin green layer of pollen covering it this week, adding to the strange end-of-days feel, and I've got to take sufficient decontamination measures before entering the house, turning the garage into a temporary airlock to avoid aggravating their sinuses even more.

Georgia in springtime is a wonder to behold with the cherry blossom in full splendour but it's scant reward when your nearest and dearest are living in a bubble until this most beautiful plague is washed away.

True South

Election campaigns make people do strange things.  The buzz or not this week has been from Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney campaigning in the South, Mississippi and Alabama specifically, in their primaries.  

Mr Romney is a smooth, urbane, North Eastern patrician conservative from the Rockefeller wing of the party, which is as unfashionable in conservative circles now as flares and neon socks to a teenager - even an ironic one. 

So if you are addressing a potentially hostile crowd, you can take one of two approaches. You can win them over with the strength of your oratory and your ideas ala JFK or Bobby Kennedy in Iowa - when he was campaigning and setting out his agenda, a medical student yelled out "Who's going to pay for all this Senator?", who looked him squarely in the eye and said loudly enough for everyone to hear "You are. You are going to earn more in your career as a doctor, so you're going to have more responsibilities". The crowd may not have liked his message but the logic won them round and if Sirhan Sirhan hadn't intervened, RFK would have been the winner of the 1972 election. 

I digress, the other method is to tip the cap to your surroundings and engage them on their own terms - pick a cultural reference point, don't labour it, but show you can connect with them on a subject close to them whether it be economical, geographical, social or even cultural. 

Now, despite having lived in the south for three years, I would not have advised him to adopt a fake southern accent, tell the crowd "morning y'all" and announce that you started the morning with a plate of biscuits and cheesy grits. 

Biscuits in the South are soft baked, flakey pastries, not unlike scones and are best served covered in gravy or with some kind of meat as the filling. Grits are kind of like porridge but eaten with a savory flavouring like cheese or other starch. To Southerners, they are what fish and chips are to the English - the staple and the symbol.

Like kids, people can smell fakers and why a certain amount of insincerity is to be expected and acknowledged in any campaign, if you're going to do it, at least make an effort. 

The South has an image problem in the same way the North of England does. It feeds into regional caricatures of uneducated, simple-minded, bible-chewing, reactionary simpletons that would vote for a goat as long as it had white fur, was married to a female goat, and had an American flag tied around its neck. The personification of which is Larry The Cable Guy, a particularly pernicious figure of fun, who is not even from the South - he's from Ohio. Like a Londoner making a fortune from doing a routine about North Eastern poverty in a Geordie accent. 

Romney will win the main Southern States such as Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana and probably Georgia in November, but only because he will be the nominee and the Goat isn't running. At least the Goat wouldn't tell the audience that while it didn't watch NASCAR, it did have friends who owned teams. Again, like going to watch Newcastle United at St James Park and instead of telling the crowd how much you loved 'The Toon' bragging about what good pals you were with Mike Ashley.

And for this main reason, along with several others such as his Mormonism (not at all popular in the South), his tin ear to economic inequality issues ("I like to fire people, I bet you $10,000 etc"), his cool, straight-laced persona from a party crying out for a firebrand are why, providing the economy doesn't fall off a cliff in the next eight months, is why Obama will be re-elected in November.