What Rollerblading Has Taught Me About Life

Putting a fall before my pride, at long last I've strapped on my helmet and protective pads and took to my rollerblades. Righteous, dude...!

I'd love to say I was at one with my blades, gliding gracefully up and down the street, the blades just an extension of myself -- but I wasn't and they weren't. There, in the stillness of the street, I schmoozled along... rollerblading's equivalent of a tractor on a country lane. 

Thankfully the street itself isn't too wide, so I didn't cause any tailbacks. Cars drove past me without me falling over, kids zipped past me on their bikes and scooters, and people no doubt sniggered as they disappeared into the Redcar sunset.

But who cares? Not me. Ever persevering and ever so slightly, I'm starting to get the hang of it. Not that I can hit Redcar's pathways for a while yet, but practice will one day catapult me something above mediocre!

Meanwhile, not only am I learning how to use the blades. In the process, I'm learning not to care about:

• if others think the worst - let them mock or criticise if they wish...
• the time factor - all good things will come eventually
• the age factor - you're never too old. 

Out there on my blades, I'm loving the experience, the learning, and I'm getting some much needed exercise. Never mind the X Factor: I've got the feel good factor! I feel alive!  

If you're in the 'I'd love to try that some day' predicament, act now instead of waiting for 'someday'. I wholeheartedly recommend it. 

Why wait any longer to hit that high?

We're Gonna Be Elected

Just when I thought this blog was about to go bare today, somebody dropped some inspiration through my letterbox: a campaign letter for the local elections! Hurrah!

The election campaign is in full swing and the parties are out canvassing. Labour were the first to hear what I thought: that getting through my Cracker box set that Saturday afternoon was more important to me! 

Being a specialist in marketing texts, I welcomed this charming little leaflet which was offering me a free lesson in persuasive writing. In trying to win my vote it showed me a few do's and don't's.

Brownie points go to it for:

• Homing in on people's main reasons to vote against other local parties. Some research has led to some decent copy.
• Giving facts and figures.
• Asking questions
• Using simple language. There are some gorgeous phrases in there!

However, it gets parking tickets for:

• 'Knocking' copy - though it's (rightly) taking a pop at other parties, it's also giving them free publicity.
• A lack of anticipation - voters are cynical. Copy must address all possible objections.
• Slightly sloppy punctuation - sometimes the rules can be ignored, others they can't. Funny old game is writing, innit!

Though this leaflet hasn't won my vote, it's certainly done my writing some good. The others will as well.

So hey, parties might not have figured out their purpose yet, but maybe they can still serve us. I just hope their election leaflets and letters are being printed on recycled paper though...

Communication Breakdown!

Wouldn't it be cool if animals could talk?

I say this after two weeks with my brother-in-law's adorable King Charles spaniel. I admit I've grown slightly attached to the little lady.

This is odd coming from me. I'm not even a remotely doggy person and, unfortunately, I have a wariness of man's best friend that causes me to misunderstand them.

When I'm putting my arms to stop the dog from jumping up, poor old Fido is thinking 'Playtime!'. If it playfully bares its fangs, I start thinking which songs I'd like played at my funeral (so far on the play list I have 'Hotel California' by the Eagles!).

The other problem is I can't tell if a dog is:

• hungry?
• desperate for walkies?
• dying for the loo?
• something else?

So when the dog looks at me with big brown eyes, saying I could murder some Pedigree Chum. Be a love and put some in a dish for me, would you?, I fasten the dog's lead to its collar and out we go.

If animals could talk, that would be awesome. Dogs could then reassure me: 'Calm down, mate. I'm not gonna hurt you', or 'If you don't let me out right now, it's gonna get messy in here.'

Seagulls and pigeons could warn us before dropping their splatter bombs: 'Lady, watch out!'

Just imagine the sea creatures... 

Great whites could apologise to divers: 'Sorry... My mistake. Thought you were a seal. Actually, you haven't seen any round here, have you? I'm starving'... 

Jellyfish could let us know where they were before we stepped on them: 'Mind your feet to the left or you'll get a nasty sting'...

Or seals might want to work together with us: 'If you see anything you think might be a shark, let me know so I can swim to shore.'

There's a dog barking out the back. I think he wants me to stop gossiping about his friends. Or maybe to put the kettle on... Who knows.

Until next time, then!