Mam

Heroes.

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Liam Gallagher uttered a typed racial slur on Twitter/X. The late great wrestler Terry “Hulk Hogan” Bollea wasn’t shy of controversy. Meat Loaf was anti-vaccination. Never before has it been clearer that heroes are just like you and I: flawed.

“Yeah, and he’s not even a very good one… But he’s out there alone, and he’s probably scared” – lead character of Superman (2025) about the dog Krypto

Heroes are hard to find. That is, of course, the reality. For every Lance Armstrong cheating the system, there are an army of unsung volunteers, health professionals, RNLI boat crews and support staff, and countless other examples of putting others ahead of themselves. Those who deliver aid to Palestine, operate health clinics in Ukraine, or pluck refugees from the deadly English Channel go above and beyond their calling. And not all heroes wear capes: see also, Mam.

“Any sort of bullying is a terrible thing, but I think online bullying is so much worse because it’s psychological bullying” – Dean Cain, actor

And that leads me neatly to the recent fictional superhero, the one of my many childhood dreams, and many play sessions: Superman. The recent movie of the same name has earned plaudits and created a strange debate. Labelled as ‘woke’ by, the lycra-wearing superhero was the creation of children of immigrants that headed to U.S.A. Joe Shuster (artist) and Jerry Siegel (writer) would have been all too aware of the atrocities facing their fellow Jewish people. Their empathy shone through one of fiction’s greatest assets. The latest movie incarnation left me spellbound. I left the cinema with a smile, for the first time in many years. It was a joyous love letter of a movie, by James Gunn and his production team. Absolutely full of geeky details and hope.

“Knock the ‘t’ off the ‘can’t'” – George Reeves, actor

Being from elsewhere and existing in an unfamiliar landscape was my choice when I moved to China in 2014. Unlike many who seek better places to live and survive, I had the choice. That choice took me back to Britain, a new Britain, less Great, more lost. One that had departed the European Union and seemed to be having (and still is) more internal battles than a U.S. civil war. Religion, race, nationality, and gender fill newspaper covers daily. Social media, seemingly unchecked, spouts mistrust, counter-science, and conspiracy theory. The consequences lead to a broken Britain.

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”- Christopher Reeve, actor and activist

If being woke is to champion the smaller person, to puff your chest out at bullies, and to want a better world, then count me in on Team Superman. #SupermanIsAnImmigrant (coined in 2013 by Define America and the Harry Potter Alliance) who now deny that ideal are an example of flip-flopping u-turns that former Prime Minister Liz “Lettuce” Truss would be proud of. Much alike the latest version of Lex Luthor, excellently portrayed by Nicholas Hoult, there lies a smudge of grey amongst the confused right wing views. Those contradictions make us human. Much like the David Corenswet version of Superman. Where Christopher Reeve made generations believe a man could fly, David Corenswet has restored belief in hope once again.

“Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.” –
Christopher Reeve

Sadly, every hero stands to fall on their sword, so choose your heroes wisely. I chose my Mam as my hero for good reason (and her supply of fig biscuits).

The Best Mam In The Land & All The World

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Today is the eve of Shaun Goater Day, but it is also a celebration of something equally important. Whilst the title may appear like a click bait piece for a major newspaper publication, this is a message of hope and love. Happy Birthday to my Mam. The best of the best, and the only one to spend a day in 1982 forcing me out into the world like a long skriking jobby.

Homework: Interview with my Mum: 1

Go relax, enjoy, and spend quality time in York. Hux is with you eternally. Revisit memories with warmth, eat copious amounts of cake, wander the pathways, and drop into the churches and walled parts that both capture hearts and offer solace. In your absence, think about the strawberries as a large snail attacks them. Leave a birthday offering of chocolate biscuits before you exit the house.

Refer to: Mams, moms, mums… 妈妈

This has been a tough bloody year but you have been tougher. Find youth in your power and potential to deal with anything. Find hope in knowing your grandchild shall arrive here one day soon, no matter what. Find joy in the tenderness of the luck to share fantastic experiences with someone you love. Forget the garden that needs gardening. Remember to buy fig biscuits for a birthday treat to share.

See also: Dear Mum…

I’m sure that I speak on behalf of Astrid and Paul Jr., in saying that you are loved by us all, and it is unconditional. Happy birthday. Love from us all. Peace and love. 🐝

Previously: “OK, mum’s the word!”

2019 edition. Other Mummy bits.

Not Too Tame

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Once more into the breach we stepped. Mam and I popped to Salford. This time the mercy of the Gods waited. You know the Greek Gods. In Salford. Paul and Mam had introduced me to Not Too Tame before, and I had a hunger for more. Gods of Salford presented that opportunity.

Through the talented helm of Not Too Tame theatre, the audience plunged into a building site, engaged in some friendly participation, before being whipped into a frenzy. The usual midweek night in The Lowry this was not! Jimmy Fairhurst’s directions gave working-class heart and strength to a blend of modernity coupled with mythology. Cultural references slammed together with moetal defiance and resilience.

In a make-believe-believable world, overlords looked to determine the fate of a young cast of underlings. Much like modern life. Olympians, of the ancient kind, may have seemed up against it. Streetwise sense and a touch of “fuck off”-ery gave rise to a battle against all odds. This was theatre, with a hint or ten, of reality. Anthony Quinlan starred as Zeus, Laura Harrison and her incredible voice as Hera, and Jimmy Fairhurst as Hermes. Arguably, the stars of the show were the wide and broad troupe of young actors and actresses. Created and written by Not Too Tame, Jimmy Fairhurst, Andrew Butler & Louise Haggerty, featured a stunning set, seamless scene changes, a snappy soundtrack, and giggles galore. The aim of Not Too Tame is to make sure all audiences know “theatre IS for them.” True inclusiveness.

In 2025, The Lowry celebrated 25 years of presence at Manchester Port, renamed Salford Quays. Under the shadow of BBC and ITV studios, L.S. Lowry’s artwork equally sits by future potential and tried and tested acts. Opportunity’s hand glows on stage and Gods of Salford was no exceptional. Featuring a catchy soundtrack, poignant moments, and sharp dialogue, each moment flew by leaving the audience wanting more. After just 65 minutes, it was all over. So, what’s the next Not Too Tame production? Hurry up! Until then, other theatres and other groups will have to do.

“Remember, remember my name…” lyrics from a song featured in the show, God of Salford.

Dear Mum

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To my mother, Elaine, how did you put up with me? And Astrid and Paul Jr too.  Thanks for being there no matter what and for giving me the confidence to be me.  I am finally seeing who I am and will make up for all my mistakes.  It’d be a dishonour to you, if I did not. I am always trying to better and fairer. Even when the fan is hit by epic proportions of proverbial turd.

Thanks for the Lego, the creation, the joy of reading and the pushes a long my walk through life.  Gran shines on through you and your sisters.  Then, there’s my Dad’s mother, Nana, friend’s and family members as mothers.  We’re blessed by so many great people that we meet a long the way.  Then, there are those unlucky not to be mothers, or mothers who have gone through terrible tragedies.  Let’s think of them too.  There are so many great mothers in the world, but only one is mine. 

Thanks for sharing the gift from a wonderful person, your Paul, t’other day. Seeing the Royal Northern College of Music and Clod Essemble’s production was magically enchanting. The enchanting evening featuring Welsh poetry, prayer, dance, lighting, and Thomas Mccarthy‘s words was emotional. Mam and Paul shared some amazing times and I’ve been lucky enough to share a few along the way.

Thank you Mum, for being my hero. I’ll try to do you proud, as best as I can. This week will be a tough one with Paul’s funeral. You’ve worked hard to ensure treasured memories and tribute follow. Thanks to you and Alexia for staying together to sort all this touching moments and photographs of time into a fitting farewell.

My Mam hasn’t needed profound words or phrases but she has always had a way to make me think, rather than lecture. Learning about choices and consequences, through expected feelings and what could or could not go wrong or right is one way to develop. Mam has opened many doors to the world.

Through an introduction to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, R.E.M., and live gigs like Meat Loaf or Jeff Wayne’s War Of The World‘s, Mam has always ensured entertainment and fairness. The Campaign for Minimum Wage concert at Manchester’s then Nynex Arena was yet one example of social consciousness that I’ve been lucky to attend. Save Levenshulme Baths walk completed. Fix Chapel Street Primary School roof, supported. Local coffee shops over brands and chain? Why not?

Cypriot charms, Cornish climates, Lanc-York-Derby-Shire wanders, trips to Barmouth in Cymru, and so many examples of Mam providing a good life beyond No Frills beans and Weetabix. Cheers fo investing in us all.

To mums!

To my Mam. You’re the best. Love you.

Escaped Alone / What If If Only

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Recently director Sarah Frankcom delivered two incredible plays at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester. The radiant light of the domed roofing cascading light over an internal structure resembling The Crystal Maze’s finale.

First up was Escaped Alone cloaked in a tremendous intensity. For 50 minutes, a quartet of acting stars deliver performances worthy of awards. Award-winning 74-year-old Annette Badland (Ted Lasso, Bergerac, and many, many more) has appeared on the silver screen, radio, theatre, and other media. Escaped Alone and What If If Only, Annette Badland played two different roles. The dramatic Glaswegian voice of Maureen Beattie OBE (Casualty, The Bill, and a whole host of other appearances) filled the stage through a succession of apocalyptic articulations and enunciations with her stage peers. Margot Leicester has strolled many stages, film sets, and studios. Her credits include Coronation Street and Casualty (the go to show for acting). Souad Faress has featured in The Archers, Casualty, and The Spy starred throughout the effusion, delivering the outpouring histrionic excellently.

What If If Only brutally strikes at the heart – even though it only lasts 25 minutes. The dialogue is sharp, enticing, and enhances the talented cast within a tale familiar to memory. The depths of loss, grief, and anguish mask fond memories and occasions. Here the lost future, present, and more visit upon a hapless mourner. Game of Throne’s 18-year-old co-starlet Bea Glancy featured in a haunting segment of What If If Only. The main star of this gripping grief-stricken play is Time and Beaker Girls actress Danielle Henry. Across from the main character, Someone, is Waterloo Road star Lamin Touray, fresh from All Creatures Great and Small and other such roles. The Royal Exchange Elders add further dimension to Caryl Churchill’s play.

All in all, two great plays, watched at a time of rightfully-heightened emotion. A pleasure to accompany my Mam to each performance. And if you haven’t booked a ticket for the theatre, “Go to”.

Mothering Sunday

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Mother’s Day is every day.

Other parents are available.

The thing is: Mum is best.

Here’s a few more reasons:

Extremely reliable and supportive.

Really warm and loving.

Mum rocks our world.

Unfortunately Dad has smelly feet.

Mother, we love you.

Mam, Mom, Mummy, Ma, Mama…

Actually, you’re my hero.

Maybe even better than Erling Haaland.

Most Mums are brilliant.

Onomatopoeia are words you could teach us.

Mmmmmmmm.

Maybe in another generation

And one after that

Mum’s influence will shine on

As it did from my Mum’s Mum.

Happy Mothering Sunday!

Christmas ’23

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Eight miles there. Eight back. Clayton Vale, Ashton-under-Lyne canal, the old filled in Stockport canal, and the Fallowfield Loopline cycle path paved the way from home to home. A few roads, with the odd crossing, make for a largely traffic-free route. Perfect for the Panda dog walking tight to your legs, and more importantly, good for chasing a kicked or thrown ball. A good wander.

The battle against the big C rages on. Cancer is a horrid thing. It ruins families and strikes at the centre of health, in a way crippling and doesn’t let go. As one beats it, another battles. It claims life whilst brave faces tussle and show determination to win and live go fight another day. Keep battling. You can do it.

A platter of yummy foods, traditional at Christmas, was devoured between five mouths (Panda included). Paul and Mam always know their food. The former more than the latter. Mam did her best to keep us in baked beans and curries as kids. In fact, I’d go as far as saying as Mam has always been a culinary explorer. Mam tried her best and still does to introduce me, Paul Jr. and Astrid to new forms of scran. Corn, however, is still a big no. Paul, being a former chef, knows his onions, shallots, and all the other Allium members. I feel blessed to eat well. Astrid, predisposed, wasn’t around, but hopefully, we can catch up later this week and have some competitive eating.

Christmas 2012 was the last time I ate Christmas Dinner at Mam’s before last year (2022). Those intervening years in China have dampened my mood for Christmas. With new life and youth present, it has reminded me that this special time of year is perfect for celebrating together. 2024 will be much better. I feel it. I hope for it. Christmas Dinner in 2023 consisted of a platter of potatoes, Mediterranean-style vegetables, salmon, sprouts, carrots, chicken, and gravy. It wasn’t the traditional Christmas Dinner. But, sat with Dad nattering and an episode of Last of The Summer Wine, it was pleasant enough. Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Christmas Day involved copious amounts of dog walking, reading, and generally communicating via the mobile phone to the point of near blindness. Boxing Day would lead to more walking. 16 miles in the legs deserved a drink. The last Christmas gift opened. Belgian beer, Bernardus Abt 12, at 10% volume, sank well. Cheers, Doddsy, for the plonk. The dark quadruple was rich in flavour and suitable for watching Hunter Killer, a disappointing middle-of-the-road Russian-American conflict movie. As paint by number action movies go, it did enough to get my nose back into Flann O’Brien’s The Poor Mouth. Translated text can sometimes be difficult, but the wit and heart of the stories shine through.