by Guy Browning
I took us all to Majorca on a Single Parent package holiday.
The flight was stupidly early, the transfer incredibly long.
When we arrived at the hotel Daniel was beside himself with tiredness.
Our room wasn’t ready.
Daniel started to scream. He kept screaming for an hour.
In front of hundreds of holidaymakers from all over the world.
I finally got a few chips inside him. He perked up and then conked out.
I lay in bed thinking I will never survive seven days of this.
Especially if they get covered in sand. I considered changing our flight.
I felt better at breakfast. By the end of the week I was almost relaxed.
How I Am Now Virtually a Theatre Writer/Producer/Director
I drove at 94mph down the M40. I blame Luther Vandross.fn1
Had a choice of £100 fine or attending Speed Awareness Course.
I spent 18 years not smoking to earn £100. So it was The Course.
Met 23 other people on the course strangely united by speed.
One was late because ‘he’d been driving so slowly’.
The course was rubbish. Patronising. Boring. Counterproductive.
I told my policeman mate on the school gates. He agreed.
I redesigned the course. It took me one evening while listening to music.
Actually ‘Driver’s Seat’ by Sniff ’n’ the Tears. Good speeding music.
Got the gig. That’s what I now do for a living. Boof!
fn1‘Searching’ – brilliant song when he was lead singer of Change.
What I Really Had to Do to Get the Gig
Meet the wrong person three times before he admitted it wasn’t him.
Wait three months to see the right person.
Attend six separate meetings with groups of unimpressed civil servants.
Put myself through a lengthy government tendering process.
Designed specifically to baffle, intimidate and degrade the will to live.
Reformat my proposal three different times in three different ways.
Pass a range of background checks relating to credit, crime and sexuality.
Spend time with Road Traffic Officers (only bright spot).
Run three pilot sessions at my own expense.
Sign a contract so complex my lawyer was reduced to tears.
Biscuits in Order of Their Therapeutic Value
Jammie Dodgers. But not the satanic imitation jam rings.
Custard Creams. Three taken with tea. Twice if necessary.
Ginger Nuts. A morning biscuit with coffee at 10.30am.
Coconut Rings. As many as you can fit on your little finger.
Chocolate Hobnobs. Basically a healthy oatmeal snack.
Fruit Shortcake. Eat by inserting whole biscuit in mouth.fn1
Chocolate Chip Cookies. Ideally freshly baked with melting chocolate.
Iced Party Rings. Best eaten just before serving at children’s party.
Jaffa Cakes. Orangey spongey chocolatey cakey biscuity round thing.
Rich Tea. Only to be contemplated in absolute dire emergencies.
fn1 Ron taught me this pioneering technique at work.
Options for What to Do With Your Wedding Ring After Divorce
Put it in the back of a drawer and forget about it.
Along with all the vows about being together until death did us part.
Take it to a place that says WE BUY GOLD. And get about £15.
Keep it for your children. To remind them of the divorce.
Melt it down and have it refashioned into a belly-button stud.
Take it down to the river on a glorious sunny day.
Walk to the centre of the old stone bridge.
Forgive yourself and your ex. Drop the ring into the river.
Avoiding ducks.
Watch the river continue to flow serenely on, just like life.
Contents of My ‘Important Documents’ File at Home
My will is in an envelope marked ‘Last Willy and Testicle’.
Abi thought this was inappropriate. I call it having the last laugh.
My birth certificate. I was a boy. Still am.
Two old British passports. Big blue beauties that you could surf on.
Letter from my Great-Uncle Percy who was killed in World War I.
Old Post Office savings book. £36 withdrawn to pay for first bike.
National insurance card with strangely memorable number.
Immunisation record. With boosters. Some late typhus shots.
Marriage certificate. Four birth certificates.fn1 Divorce certificate.
Counterpart driving licence. Two speeding endorsements. Totally unfair.
fn1 We lost one. Ben. He was with us four days then got meningitis.
Why I Can’t Talk About Ben
Because the only other person who knew him was Abi.
And I no longer speak to her.
Because we’re divorced.
It’s a black hole we share.
We weren’t doing particularly well.
But that finished us off.
I don’t even have a photo of him.
I loved Ben and I still do.
And one day I hope I’ll be with him again.
And that’s it really.
Why It’s Never a Good Idea to Look Up Your Ex-Girlfriends Online
Sabah doesn’t exist online. She’s gone. I’m kind of glad.
Becky Hatton is a Tory councillor. Campaigning for school buses.
Emma Standish is dead. I remember her blonde hair flowing as she ran.
I always meant to go out with her. But she was out of my league.
And now she’s permanently out of all leagues. Deeply depressing.
Ruth is divorced from Lance Adams. The professional footballer.
Andrea sings in a choir and married a bass. She looks happy.
But online everyone looks happy. It’s like a big glossy brochure.
We need a site where everyone looks tired, disappointed and crushed.
That would cheer everyone up.
An Unexpected Archaeological Find from a Past Life
After the divorce we sold our family house and got a skip.
To throw out all the stuff we couldn’t fit in our two new smaller homes.
I did a very thorough job of clearing my things out.
Probably too thorough. I put a lot of personal stuff in the skip.
Pictures and prints I wish I’d kept. But they all went.
In fact anything with sentimental value went.
Looking back I think I was self-harming.
One thing that survived the purge was the fortune-teller’s cassette.
I listened to it again and she had it spot on about tragedy and recovery.
But then maybe all lives are like that.
How Ian Created a Highly Charged Atmosphere
Lucy had been going out with Insulated Ian for about three years.
During that time Charlotte was seeing Derek of the hidden personality.
They often went out as a foursome in Ian’s electric vehicle.fn1
One day Ian casually rested his hand on Charlotte’s thigh.
Electricity flowed. No honestly it didn’t. Sorry.
Lucy saw it. Ian said it was a case of mistaken identity.
Which is absolutely the worst thing he could have said.
Lucy binned off Ian. Who then asked Charlotte out.
She said yes. It lasted three weeks. Not sure what happened to Derek.
The twins now have an unspoken agreement not to speak to each other.
fn1 Just kidding! Actually a Renault Laguna.
How It Feels Sleeping with Someone New After Years of Marriage
It’s a little bit like getting in a rental car.
It’s still a car but nothing’s quite where you expect it to be.
You have to adjust various things to get comfortable.
&nbs
p; You then discover that it does some exciting things your old car didn’t.
And you wonder how you ever got along without those things.
There might be one or two things your new car doesn’t do.
Which your old car did.
But you were tired of those things anyway.
Once you get the hang of your new car, it’s good fun.
But then you hand it back. And your garage is still empty.
Important Things to Look for in ‘New Wife’ According to My Kids
She has to make at least three basic meals.
Must smell nice but not of lavender.
She can have strong opinions but not all of the time.
She has to at least do some stuff.
She can’t be a girly girl saying ‘bring me some glitter’.
She needs to have Aztec beliefs. Willing to make sacrifices.
Must be able to engage in banterous conversation.
Her milkshake must bring all the boys to the yard.
No pets that we don’t know.
No silly permanent life-attitude stuff.fn1
fn1 Daniel – quite incisive for an eight-year-old.
How the Dating Website Interpreted This Brief for Me
Diana – 39 – no kids. Loves walking, country pubs, cinema.
Paula – 43 – 2 kids. Loves cinema, walking, country pubs.
Toni – 42 – 1 kid. Loves glass of wine. Quiet nights in. Walking dog.
Rebecca – 41 – 2 kids. Loves DVDs, minibreaks, cinema.
Jemima – 44 – 3 kids. Loves country walks, eating out, minibreaks.
Sarah – 48 – no kids at home. Loves travel, eating out, country pubs.
Anita – 47 – 2 kids. Loves walking the dog. Quiet nights in.
Niamh – 44 – 3 kids. Loves walking the dog. Country pubs.
Anoushka – 24 – very nice. Wants to meet gentlemens for pampering.fn1
Jane – 49 – 2 kids. Loves quiet nights in. Glass of wine. Country walks.
fn1 Slightly different site.
How for a Brief Moment I Thought I Was a Great Lover
I went to a salsa class because it’s a great place to learn salsa.
And meet women. Like Vanessa.
After a few warm-up moves we ended up in bed.
Unless she is a very convincing actress, she came almost immediately.
I thought she just wanted to get an early bus home, but no.
This happened every time. Virtually anything would set her off.
I just had to clear my throat and she would be writhing in ecstasy.
I really can’t take any kind of credit. I was just an interested bystander.
But she did like me telling her dirty stories which also did the trick.
When I found myself reworking Thomas the Tank Engine I called it a day.
How Online Dating Is Beginning to Feel Like Electrical Engineering
The computer tells me what part of the network (person) I’m visiting.
When I reach the location I do an immediate visual inspection.
Then I check the wiring. Nine times out of 10 everything is normal.
Normal women, normally wired, working normally. So I go home.
What I’m looking for is random electricity. Something not earthed.
Just a spark or a live wire. Which is dangerous but also exciting.
And then it would get interesting. And I could get my toolbox out.
But normally it’s normal. We connect and then we disconnect.
There is no surge. The lights don’t go on suddenly. Or off.
Perhaps it’s best when things just hum safely in the background.
How We Built this Village on Motown, Soul and Disco
Tom came round to chat through his divorce over a few beers.
I got him to help me put together a netball hoop for Amelia.
We had a few beers and listened to my playlist on Spotify.
‘Sail On’ by the Commodores came on. I said it was my divorce song.
I sang the whole thing very loud and very hammy. It helps.
Then we belted it out together. To be honest, we were a bit squiffy.
He emailed me the day after saying we should form a Dads’ Soul Choir.
Like the Commitments but for dads with a lot of commitments.
I think he was joking. But if there’s one thing I take seriously it’s jokes.
It’s a pretty solid idea. Unlike the netball hoop which is a bit wonky.
My New Awesome Social Media Marketing Machine
I cooked pancakes for my kids. I am a god with a frying pan.
I mentioned the Dads’ Soul Choir in a very offhand way.
They said it was a great idea as long as I didn’t sing.
Or attempt to dance. And I should stand at the back.
I said Tom would be the front man. They thought that was brilliant.fn1
They said I should advertise it on Facebook.
I said I would rather feed my genitals to a leaf shredder.fn2
Later that evening Leo showed me the Dads’ Soul Choir site he made.
The kids then spread the word on Instasnapgrambuzzvinetube.
By the time I went to bed 11 dads had signed up. That’s a choir!
fn1 Really beginning to dislike Tom.
fn2 Or words to that effect.
Entry Requirements for the Dads’ Soul Choir
You have to be a dad.fn1
You get a 10% discount for every child.fn2
You have to have Dad rhythm and Dad soul.
You have to have had the Dad blues.
You have to feel the Dad force.
You have to have been to Funky Town.
You have to have R.E.S.P.E.C.T. for Aretha Franklin.
You’re particularly welcome if you’re D.I.V.O.R.C.E.D.
You must dance in a way which deeply embarrasses your children.
Big fans of Morrissey need not apply.
fn1 Women welcome too (if they’re a dad).
fn2 Up to a maximum of 10.
Our Serious Semi-Professional Auditions for A Choir Leader
The first guy had a bow tie. NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
The second guy asked us what we wanted to get out of the choir.
We said singing. He asked if we were trying to work out some issues.
The third guy asked us what we meant by soul. Did it include Debussy?
I told him to close the door on the way out. What a Clair de Loony!
Then there was a lady. She looked like Ruby Turnerfn1 but wasn’t.
She coolly eyed us 14 men as if we were the veriest trash.fn2
She then told us to stand up. I for one wasn’t arguing.
Half an hour later we were singing ‘What a Feeling!’ from Flashdance.
Our new Choir Mistress is Deborah. I am totally in love with her.
fn1 British soul legend.
fn2 Which to be honest …
My Growing Realisation That Some Women Are a Bit Odd in Bed
Rachel was someone I danced salsa with. Rather well actually.
There was one complex move which required us to get unethically close.
Soon we were recreating this move in bed in a slightly more naked way.
When Rachel dances salsa she always counts the beats out loud.
Which I discovered she also does in bed.
It’s difficult to be natural when your partner’s saying ‘one and two’.
It’s also quite exhausting after a while. Like British Military Fitness.
You begin to hope she’ll get to ‘three and four’ and call it a day.
But she never did. It was continuous ‘one and two and one and two’.
And when we stopped she cried. Very disconcerting and not very Latin.
What I Think About Being 50
Only halfway to being 100. Need to conserve energy.
I’m now in the youth of old age. Still doesn’t sound good.
But
I’m glad to see the back of my forties. They were hard work.
I haven’t got another marathon in me. My brain has. My legs haven’t.
I need the bus pass now while I can still get upstairs.
Death is beginning to take an interest in my generation. Bugger off.
My 10-year-old self is still perfectly preserved inside.
I seemed to have stopped worrying about everything. Quite liberating.
I feel I still have one huge act of jaw-dropping grandeur in me.
One final shot at immortality. If I can find my glasses.
How My Running Career Ended With a Bang
Kids away with mother so booked myself fitness holiday in St Lucia.
Did exercise bootcamp on beach every morning at 7am.
Got extra keen and signed up for yoga stretches at 6am.
Stretched more than I’ve ever stretched anything before ever.
Ran along beach with young beautiful people. Kept up no problem.
Felt the power returning and accelerated after young blonde.
Heard bang. Assumed I’d been shot. Fell into sea. Thought I’d drown.
Fished out by young fit men. One of them was an orthopaedic surgeon.
He looked at my leg, said ‘You’re buggered’. Achilles tendon snapped.
Wheelchair to airport. Inserted into airplane via catering trolley.
What I’ve Learned After Two Months on Crutches
I’ve swapped my car for an automatic so I can still drive.
An automatic makes you drive sedately. It’s like ageing 20 years.
Disabled parking spots are really really important if you can’t walk.
Stairs are everywhere. ‘Up with the good. Down with the bad.’
