It's never too late

I passed my driving test today.  (Yes, the many good friends and family members who have rightly ribbed me for many years, you read that right).

My old buddy and former rugby teammate Richard Beggs and I took lessons together at school in 1989 when I was a sprightly 17 (and Richard was, well, 17 - let's leave it at that).  It was a two-hour lesson - an hour each in the driving seat with the other in the back making faces in the mirror.  

However, over the course of time, my driving instructor and I failed to see eye to eye and I did that brainless teenage "I'll show him" thing - by stopping lessons.  What a hero (aka idiot).

And then the years moved on - I went to study in Newcastle, back to Belfast for a few years, moved to London - and driving wasn't top of my priority list.

Vanessa and I eloped to Yorkshire in 2003 and getting my licence should have become an instant priority.  I did take some lessons but wasn't a big fan of my new instructor or the one after that so I "parked" the whole idea once more (partly because I wasn't very good at parking).

Another three years went past until I had another go, by this time when I was working in Harrogate and found an absolute gent of an instructor.  But the problem was time.  I had accepted a job in Bradford and was only left with a few weeks to try to get through my test before the new role took over.

The first two tests were pretty much disastrous. I came close third time around but still no cigar.  Game over.

Or so I thought.

In March of this year, my great pal Edmund Conybeare generously decided to mark my 52nd birthday by getting me a surprise driving lesson with the best driving instructor on the planet (and I should know, having seemingly met most of them).

Fiona Poole had successfully guided Ed's eldest daughter Helena through her test first time and was in the process of doing the same with her sister Eva (mission since accomplished).

So, on 20 April,  I climbed into Fiona's car for my first lesson.  And five months to the day - yes, today - I passed my test.  Yes, it was fourth time, but not really because Fiona was a long time away from being a driving instructor when I crashed and burned three times 18 years ago. 

It's not an exaggeration to say that driving has dominated my life over the past few months but especially over the past three weeks.  Fiona managed to fit me in for lessons every day this week  - three of them for two hours.  And without that level of intensity and her clear understanding of those aspects of driving at which I was particularly shite, I would not have stood a chance today.

It will take me a little while for the new reality to sink in - 1989 is a long time ago - but I'm excited about the new possibilities a driving licence will offer.  A driving licence.  An actual driving licence.  I've got a driving licence.

I will shortly be raising a glass to that happy fact (but will leave the car at home for one more night). 

Thank you Fiona, you're an absolute star. 

Springtime in Paris

Good morning from French France where the Whites are on a short but riveting mission.

We arrived in Paris at teatime yesterday, just in time to celebrate what was left of my birthday after a long day travelling.  (There is a 2 and a 5 in my new age, but sadly not in the order I would prefer).

We had a terrific meal last night and drink was taken. Please don’t judge.

However, we’ll not see much of the kids over the next two days.

And here’s the thing. The main reason for our trip is that Jamie and Charlotte will spend today and tomorrow in first rehearsals with the Olympic Youth Band. 

With Jamie on guitar and Charlotte on clarinet, they have been chosen as two of the UK’s half dozen representatives in the global musical ensemble who will play just one song in a single performance for one night only.

At the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympic Games.

I KNOW!!!

The date is Friday 26 July with a television audience of billions guaranteed.

They don’t yet know what the song is and, when they do, I suspect they won’t be allowed to tell anyone. Let’s see.

They’ve simply been told to present themselves at the reception of the Stade de France at 10am, where the opening and closing ceremonies - plus the athletics - will take place. There they will meet the rest of the band and find out what the schedule is for the next two days. They return to Paris on the morning of Saturday 20 July for several days of intense practice before two full dress rehearsals on the Wednesday and Thursday with the performance itself obviously on the Friday.

Jamie will have finished his GCSEs about a month before, but Charlotte will need two days off school which she’s obviously devastated about (not).

So, a memorable summer to look forward to. In the meantime, my birthday week has technically only just begun so I’m off to tear the arse out of it.

Magnifique!!!

Prime time

And they're back.

Yes, the Prime Penguins returned to Yorkshire from South Korea in the early hours of yesterday morning and posed for one final group pic before going their separate ways. 

It wasn't the World Scout Jamboree they or anyone else expected.  You may have heard. 

Poor preparation of the event site coupled with a shortage of provisions, record high temperatures and a looming typhoon led to its evacuation after only a few days.

But things were not anywhere near as disatrous for the overall experience as many news outlets would have you believe, at least not for Unit 37 of the UK Contingent. 

After returning to Seoul, they saw many sights from up high...

..and down low.

They ate together. 

They sang together.

And they even had the chance to dress up. 

I'll leave the storytelling to Jamie, who will be more than happy to talk about his experiences - just as soon as he remembers what continent he's in.

But for now, sincere thanks from him and us to everyone who supported his adventure.  We're forever grateful. 

Heart and Seoul

Good afternoon from Guiseley where the local time is 1319.  The local time in Seoul is 2119.

Meanwhile, the time in Frankfurt is 1419.  I tell you this because Jamie and his fellow members of World Scout Jamboree Unit 37 are currently in Frankfurt Airport before flying to South Korea in less than a couple of hours from now.

Vanessa and I were up shortly after 2am to cart Jamie to Castleford where he boarded the coach to Manchester Airport.

He'll be gone for just under three weeks. The Prime Penguins (as his unit are known) are due to land in Seoul mid-morning tomorrow. 

Then it's two nights in the capital before heading into camp to join more than 50,000 scouts and leaders from 158 countries for the 25th World Scout Jamboree.

They'll be there for 12 days before the Prime Penguins have another three nights in South Korea -  including a visit to the infamous DMZ separating South from North - before arriving back in Manchester on Friday 18 August.

Needless to say, it will be a trip of a lifetime.  

On behalf of Jamie, I want to say a massive and heartfelt thank you to everyone who enabled him to go.

It begins with the kind people who attended Charlotte's Christmas cake sale in December 2021 to kick off his fundraising efforts just a few weeks after he was chosen to attend.

To those who took part in or donated to Jamie's 12-hour Spinathon in July 2022 (or bought one of Charlotte's second batch of cakes). 

To those who attended his pub quiz or played in the band on that very special night in January 2023. 

And, of course, to all those generous souls who contributed to his fund - many without ever having met him.

I also want to give an extra special mention to James Haigh and Kathrin Dunning, the inspirational leaders of 15th Airedale Scouts, who kept the Group active and creative throughout lockdown and beyond.  Without them, Jamie would now be sitting on the sofa beside me.     

He's humbled and eternally grateful to you all.    

THANK YOU!!!

Meet Bannside Boy

"Life begins at 40" is a phrase I rarely hear these days.  The optimitic part of me thinks that's because people now live longer, making 40 seem much too young to consider doing anything stamped with the words "middle" and "aged."  More likely is that most of my friends are now well past 40 and we have an unwitting collective pact to pretend we're not.

However, I am unashamed in my steadfast commitment to sad dadness and this approach has just reaped a surprising result. 

Very few people know this (because I wanted to keep it a secret) but, during lockdown, I took up a new hobby.  DJ-ing. 

My nephew, Nathan, moved to New Zealand in January 2020 - just weeks before borders closed around the world.  Prior to leaving Belfast for Auckland, he had already built a successful part-time career as a DJ, performing under the name Gammy.  He even had a track played on Radio 1. He has continued to achieve on the other side of world, adding the new persona of Fluid Haunts to his reportire at festivals across his adopted country.  

He has done all of this with new equipment, having chosen not to take his old kit with him.  So I borrowed it.  They say practice makes perfect but, when it comes to my DJ-ing, I wouldn't pretend to be in that cateory.  But I have become better than I ever thought possible. 

That has led to me playing a small number of local gigs under the name Bannside Boy in homage to my beloved Coleraine Football Club, known as the Bannsiders.  I've only done short 45-minute sets featuring a mash-up of dubstep, psychedelic trance and children's TV themes.  And with great respect to Vanessa and the kids for their generous gifts, yesterday I received the best 51st birthday present any middle-aged apsiring DJ could ever dream of. 

I've been booked  to play at the Bingley Music Live festival on Friday 4 August and, not only that, I'm doing warm up for Noel Gallagher who is headlining that night. I can barely believe it.

It's only a 20-minute set and I'm not getting paid. However, I do get free weekend tickets for the whole family and a taxi for the short journey there and back on the night of my performance.  What's not to like? 

Maybe life begins at 51.          

Rocks and rolls

Greetings campers (although we’re not camping, that’s next week) and welcome to Corfu.

With Jamie hopefully off to the World Scout Jamboree next summer and possibly doing something else the following summer (don’t worry, no fundraising), this could be our last sunny family trip for a while. So we’re determined to tear the arse out of it.

I’m thrilled to report that it’s going to plan thus far. Yesterday’s journey across the sea and stuff was spot on. It seems Leeds Bradford Airport - Jet2 in particular - are outdoing themselves, good for them.

The food’s been great (and not stupidly expensive), the locals here have been chilled and even the sea’s been get-inable (I’m not good with cold water, especially at this age).

I can swim but I’m not a good swimmer. That’s why I was a bit pleased to make it all the way to the rocks with Jamie, and even make it back too.

That said, I was late to the party, with Jamie having already made it there and back with his mother and sister only minutes earlier.

Then we went to the pool.

Tonight, we had some Greek food, as you/we would.

It came eventually.

And afterwards, Jamie met a little kitten.

We called him Barry because, in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even lumber a stray animal with that moniker. And yet we did. 

Before I go, let’s talk bathrooms.

Here’s ours. 

It’s been quite a while since we’ve been to Greece so I forgot about the national arrangements.

I make two observations.

First, why is there only one side on the shower thingy? The drain on the floor is there for a reason. (The reason being it’s not a fab idea to have a one-sided shower).

Second, check out the sign above the shitster.

The dark depths of my brain reminded me of this state of affairs but let’s not dwell/smell.

On a practical level, the rule in our resort is that you’ve got to request more hole roll from reception. 

So, because ladies don’t poo, Jamie has been designated as our pipe wipe picker upper because I’m not doing it.  

I’ll be in touch.

Job done

Thanks to the support of many, many magnificent people, Jamie's 12-hour spinathon to help fund his trip to next year's 25th World Scout Jamboree in South Korea was a huge success.

Indeed, it could not have gone better.

The sun shone, the flow of people to help with the pedaling and cheer him on never stopped - and neither did the donations.

If one major pledge of support materialises, it seems that at least £1,000 will have been raised, a simply eye watering amount.  We'll let you know a precise figure when everything is in. With £3,800 required for the trip, there is still a lot of work to be done but we are well on the way.

As well as the pedaling, Charlotte's cake sale was a stormer with every one snaffled well before the end.

Leaving Charlotte with time to do a bit of pedaling too.

Earlier in the day, my old mate Paul "Merv" Gail came along on behalf of the Coleraine massive, with lots of donations making their way across the Irish Sea throughout the day.

The most heart-warming moment was when the wonderful members of 15th Airedale Scouts arrived to support Jamie - and stayed for three hours.

Almost all had a go, including James who, along with Kathrin and Harry, have led the pack in such an inspiring way - despite the challenges of Covid.

Without their help, Jamie would not be going to South Korea.  He will be forever in their debt.

Thanks so much to them and to everyone who has supported him in any way with the spinathon and in other ways.  

A special mention must go to Rob Rattray at Syno Education, who was lead sponsor of yesterday's goings on, Chris Kempton for providing the extra kit needed for Jamie's bike, plus Guiseley AFC,  Wharfedale Observer, Ilkley Gazette, BCB Radio, Yorkshire Post, Yorkshire Evening Post, Telegraph & Argus, Leeds Live and Bradford Zone who did so much to help us promote the event.  We are grateful to you all.

Thoughts have already turned to what comes next, with a couple of straws in the wind.  Full details will be revealed when everything is nailed down but fun will be the prime motivator in what we do.

In the meantime, Jamie's GoFundMe page remains open should you have some spare coppers to chuck in his virtual bucket.   

Thank you again, you're fab. 

In a spin

I wrote here late last year that Jamie had been chosen as a member of the UK Contingent travelling to the 25th World Scout Jamboree in South Korea next summer.

He'll be one of over 40,000 scouts from more than 150 countries around the globe.

One of the conditions of attending the event, in the best traditions of the movement, is that each scout must raise the costs of making the trip themselves.

Charlotte held a little cake sale just before Christmas to get the ball rolling.

Then, in April, Jamie fronted a jamming session at Aireborough Rugby Club with musical friends.  That's him on the mandolin beside Andy Smith (left), the brains of the operation. 

Act Three of the fundraising thriller will be written on Saturday when Jamie begins a 12-hour spinathon on our driveway.  

Thanks to Chris Kempton, who kindly provided the necessary equipment, Jamie and assorted others (yes, including me) will keep the wheels turning from 8am to 8pm with passers-by gently encouraged to chuck some spare readies into his bucket.  

And, as the good folk of Yorkshire may have read in their local papers, his sister has stepped forward again with the offer to sell more cakes. 

The media coverage - including a long radio interview with Jamie - has really helped to stimulate donations.

The wonderful Rob Rattray, the main man at Syno Education, has also stepped forward as Jamie's first corporate sponsor.   It is greatly appreciated and where Rob has characteristically led, hopefully other businesses will follow by getting in touch with me directly (Tel 07787 514324 or email barry@vanbarassociates.com) 

Jamie also has a GoFundMe page which has attracted support from friends and strangers alike. Should you wish to join them, you can do so clicking on to THIS LINK.     

Saturday should be a fun day.  I'll keep you informed.   

50-year old Virgin

Wednesday 2 July 1997 is a date I will never forget.

It was the day I met Richard Branson and John Major, and appeared on the BBC Six and Ten O'Clock News.  (Oh, and I also met my future wife but that's not relevant to this story).

Yes, Richard Branson.  He was hosting a Virgin Atlantic reception in Westminster that night and one of the MPs I worked for took me along as his plus one.

My experience of meeting my first billionaire was initially underwhelming.  First, he had broken his right hand which was in a cast and was reduced to giving guests a rather limp left hand to waggle.  Second, as he waggled my hand, he was actually talking to someone else and didn't look at me.  

Unperturbed, I was determined to have a word which I did after a couple of glasses of posh fizz.  

I wanted to tell him about the time he flew over our house in Coleraine in his big balloon in July 1987, after initially touching down in Limavady before landing with a splash in the sea off the coast of Portrush.  

My dad was in our back garden and saw Branson's stricken "Virgin Atlantic Flyer" drift overhead.  

Sadly, I was on the toilet at the critical moment and missed the whole thing, but chose not to share this anticlimactic fact with my host.  (To be fair, I'm not convinced this would have heightened his enthusiasm for my monologue which did not appear to be hitting its target).

We all had to put our business cards in a big bowl as we left (I had a homemade card I designed in the Post Office) and, about a week later, all attendees received a signed letter from the great man to say thank you for coming and what a wonderful company Virgin Atlantic was.

As the least important guest at the event (on the grounds that I hadn't been invited), I took it upon myself to respond to say thank you back.

To my surprise, I received a second letter from Branson about a month later, this time a handwritten job on notepaper headed with his home address. 

I make no apology for saying that I have written to him at least a dozen more times over the past 25 years although never received another reply - until yesterday.

Because last night, when I was celebrating my 50th birthday at home with Vanessa and the kids, a knock came to our front door.  It was a courier with a letter for me.

It was from a gentleman by the name of George Whitesides, Chair of Virgin Galactic's Space Advisory Board.  

Unfortunately Charlotte has taken the letter to school to show her classmates so I'll have to paraphrase.  But in short, he said that Richard Branson had told him of my many years of writing to him and he was aware that yesterday was my "special day" (i.e. I had turned 50).

And to celebrate this "momentous occasion" (I remember some of the phraseology) he was inviting me to "take a trip to the stars" on board one of his Virgin Galactic planes.  Goodness knows how much these flights cost but I suppose that's not my problem.   

It takes off and lands in New Mexico where I've got to go for two days' training with the flight on day three.  They will cover the costs of getting me there, plus accommodation - further details to follow. Sadly the flight won't be until 2025 - when I'll actually be 53 - but I'm not going to quibble.

Because for the next three years I can go to bed every night every night in the knowledge that I am to become Coleraine's first spaceman.  (Eat your heart out, Jimmy Nesbitt). 

Korea blimey

I started this blog in the run up to the birth of our first child, who turned out to be Jamie, and chronicled the early years of his life along with his sister Charlotte's.

I haven't updated it much in recent times because I think it best to let both of them get on with what they do without me publicly embarrassing them more than necessary.

However, less than an hour ago, Jamie received a letter to say that he has been selected as a member of what's known as the UK Contingent to travel to South Korea in 2023 to attend the 25th World Scout Jamboree.

We're just as proud - Charlotte included - as he is excited.

There is a lot of work to be done between now and his big trip but that journey has now officially begun.  

Well done son.    

Jab - Chop - Drink

A notable day today as I had my first dose of vaccine...  

...before getting a long-awaited haircut. 

Lots of others seemed to be following an identical itinerary.  

Getting vaccinated reminded me of going to vote.  I spent some time getting all built up and telling myself that what I was about to do was quite important.  And then it was over in a matter of seconds.

A dedicated vaccination centre in the centre of Bradford was my port of call, after booking myself in yesterday when supposedly healthyish specimens aged 45-49 were invited to join the queue. 

The mood was positive and the folks involved in providing the service were every bit as impressive as I imagined they would be.  

Their professionalism contrasted sharply with my local barber experience.  

I only go there as there's rarely a long wait, mainly because few other customers choose to visit and the act of getting your hair chopped only takes about 10 minutes.  In that short period, a random man who I've usually not met before hacks at your locks with an assortment of metal implements before requesting £9 for his efforts.  My rule is to hand over a tenner if I've avoided a blood injury, which was the case today but still a rarity.

That was the upside of today's styling experience.  The downside was that I now like a grey Gareth from The Office.

 Jamie had his hair cut today too, but he went to a proper barber..

And now looks like this.

Have had my jab and a hair assault, I now have a desperate craving to find a beer garden to complete my one day Covid triple crown.

I seem to recall that life used to be a bit more complicated than this.     

Marching On Together

 

It has been a "memorable" few days.

I was recently asked to write an article which was published on the same day last month by the Yorkshire Post and Yorkshire Evening Post.    

It was about a project called Leeds Tech Angels, dreamt up and piloted by my big-hearted genius of a friend Ben McKenna.

Helping kids without access to the internet or a suitable machine has become a huge issue around the country for reasons we all understand. 

However, Ben was already on top of this in the early weeks of the pandemic.  First, he helped establish  Digital Access West Yorkshire (DAWY) to acquire, refurbish and distribute unused IT equipment - preferably laptops - to digitally excluded children in the region.  In the four months from April, DAWY had given over 50 machines to those in need. That took us through until August when Ben gave me a call. 

Thanks to support from a gaggle of partners including  Leeds Community Foundation, Leeds City Council, Ahead Partnership, Zero Waste Leeds and DAWY itself, Ben was preparing to launch a new project which is now known as Leeds Tech Angels.  It went live at the beginning of December with the aim of encouraging employers and the public to donate any spare laptops and tablets for use by young people across the city who were without one. Ben's busy team of volunteers would then wipe them of data, install new software and get them out to the right homes. My mission was to help promote the good works, a task made easy thanks to incredible levels of support from the Yorkshire Evening Post and its wonderful editor, Laura Collins.   

And it was all going well, the highlight being a delivery - just days ago - of a large consignment of top notch laptops from Leeds-based financial services firm Hitachi Capital.  

But, on Wednesday morning, I received a phone call.  Around 40 Leeds Tech Angels laptops had been stolen overnight from a storage facility and the police were on the scene.  

It was a truly devastating moment.  40 laptops snatched from the hands of deprived kids.  Classy.

There was no way we were going to let the baddies win although, clearly, we couldn't do it alone.

So I contacted the Yorkshire Evening Post who ran a great story to help us.  We were also put in touch with Leeds United who had indicated a willingness to help.  Those conversations took place precisely 48 hours ago.

Yesterday morning, Ben set up a GoFundMe page and, at lunchtime, Leeds United's star striker Patrick Bamford tweeted this.

Since then (at the time of writing), £17,000 has been raised.  It would be good to get that total up a lot more by Monday when the draw for Patrick's shirt is likely to take place.  

But, after the draw, the appeal will go as we want to help as many kids as the generosity of the people of Leeds allows.

Once again, HERE is the link to the GoFundMe page.

Also, if you have laptops or tablets that you no longer need, we'd love to have them too and HERE is the link to explain the simple process.

Thanks if you've managed to read all of this.

And double thanks if you're able to help  

Bitter pills

I ran out of  vitamin tablets this morning so went to Boots to buy some more.  (I take them because I eat a lot of rubbish and not as much healthy stuff as I should, but don't tell the kids). 

They had a 3 for 2 offer so it seemed logical to go for that.  But I noticed that they only had two six-month packs of normal A - Z pills left.  The others were for old timers aged 50+ and I only turn a mere 49 next March.  Then I did some maths.

Given we're already into late December, it will be almost 2022 when I get through the two "standard" packs.  And at that point I'll just be weeks away from my 50th birthday.  How bloody depressing.  So I dried my eyes, added a 50+ pack to my basket and headed off to pay.

In happier news, yesterday was Charlotte's 10th birthday.  Quite a moment.  

She was delighted with her haul, with lots of family members and close friends being particularly kind to her.

This included her cousin Holly who produced another show-stopping cake with her own supremely talented hands.        

Fuelled by frosting and with little else to do, we decided to have some family fun.

This was the moment Jamie met his little sister in hospital  precisely 10 years and one day ago.

Yes, he was a little bit shocked.

A decade later, he remains baffled by who she is and what she's there for.