No va va voom: Why I gave up my car

A year ago, I made the decision to give up my car. Well, the decision was sort of made for me. The car had a whole host of minor issues which added together made one big issue and would have cost about five times the car’s value to fix. As I was about to start working in London and would be travelling to work on train every day, I decided give my car to the nice WeBuyAnyCar man and not replace it with another which would be sat outside my flat almost all the time.

Not everyone will be able to give up a car. Some people are in secluded locations and/or may need to make journeys that aren’t well suited to public transport. Some people might need the flexibility or freedom for their job.

I don’t mean to be evangelical or to tell other people that they should do the same as that’s not my thing. My circumstances may change and I may want to get a car again in the future. I just want to share my experience of doing so.

The reaction to giving up my car varied considerably from “You’re crazy” to “Good on you” to “How are you going to give me lifts to football now?”

I felt liberated. I’ve never been a great fan of driving and can never feel relaxed or enjoy it as much as some people seem to be able to. Spending my life on buses and predominantly trains I am able to enjoy the journey a bit more, to read a book and zone out whilst someone takes me where I need to go.

There are added pressures – one of which is that I am always worried about missing public transport so usually turn up far too early. As soon as I’m on board though, it’s time to relax.

Living without a car has prompted me to walk more, which can only be beneficial. Except when it’s raining. Then I get a bit grumpy. The weather has not really been an issue though. I’ve not got completely drenched at any point and I’ve learnt to deal with a bit of drizzle.

Financially I am much better off. I estimated the costs of insurance, road tax, petrol, MOT, repairs and purchasing a car to be around £120 per month for the journeys I was making. Most of my journeys were those I could have walked and I was only driving out of laziness. When I make the same journeys now, they are either on foot or bus, with the bus journeys I make costing under £5 each.

One main issue is doing my shopping. I had to change my mindset and my habits. At first I went into the supermarket and put as much in my trolley as I would have done previously. I then struggled to carry four bags of shopping home. Now, I am visiting the shops every other day, buying less in one go and often having more fresh food. It would be nice to be able to get a big weekly shop all done in one go but the change isn’t too onerous.

There have been occassions when I’ve needed a car. I’ve been insured on my dad’s car since I gave up mine, and also on my girlfriend’s more recently. I therefore have access to one when I really need it (assuming I can borrow one without imposing). These instances are infrequent, though. I am lucky as I live in a small town and almost anywhere I want to go is walkable in under half an hour.

The environmental impact of not owning a car also allows me to be a little bit smug about not harming the world whilst also benefiting myself as well. And I quite like being smug.

I may not have convinced you to give up your car, and as I stated, that wasn’t my aim. But think about this: If you have no car, there’s no chance of getting caught in Operation Stack.

We are sailing…

 Last week I went on holiday to Scandanavia with my girlfriend and did possibly the coolest thing I will ever do in my life. We were part of the crew on a Viking ship.

Other people sailing far at sea
When I say crew, I might be exaggerating slightly. It’s not as if we were hired and paid in plunder. We weren’t recruited by a fearsome leader for our brute strength and ruthlessness. What happened was a little more mundane.
We got to the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde (pronounced Rosh-kill and more commonly known for the music festival which I had previously thought was called RockSlide) after a circuitous route through the town. Getting to the ticket desk, the enthusiastic Danish man asked us if we wanted to go on the Viking sail boat for 95 krone. He was so enthusiastic about it that I instantly thought “Of course I do!” but I looked at Jo to see if she wanted to spend that much money on it. She looked at me to see if I would be comfortable doing it despite being unable to swim and being terrified of drowning. After a while we concluded that yes, we both definitely wanted to do it and we booked our time slot.
Check out the glee on my little face
So we joined around 15 other tourists at the appointed time for a safety briefing with the captain of our ship. I don’t think that was her official term but I’ve forgotten her name. She told us that we’d all be wearing life jackets but they probably weren’t needed as no one had fallen in during the 25 years they’d been open which reassured me. It’s quite odd – I’ve got a fear of water that I’m able to give over after about 10 minutes on a boat. I’ve been on narrowboat holidays where I’ve been clambering around the outside of the boat, jumping assure and pushing off and jumping onto a boat, yet I still have an initial fear that I’m going to fall in and drown.
The captain also told us that we would need to do some rowing which excited me because it felt like a more authentic experience, and it excited Jo as she is a rower and it was a chance to try out rowing in a different boat.
As we were excited, we were the first ones onto the ship and we got to sit at the back of the boat which has a technical term that I forgot in my excitement. This meant that we were rowing what Jo has told me is called stroke, meaning that all the other rowers should follow our pace.
Having never rowed before, it took me a little while to get the hang of what I was supposed to be doing. During this learning phase, we went slightly off course and almost crashed into some moored boats at the side of the harbour. Reading this and knowing that the other rowers should be following my pace would suggest that it was my fault that we nearly crashed. I would like to submit my case to the jury thusly:
The woman behind me was rubbish. I had to repeatedly stop rowing as our oars would hit eat other. She was clearly not following my lead as she should have been. The only time my side of the ship were in time was when I looked back to see what she was doing and to follow her although this synchronisation was brief with her soon falling out of time again. It frustrated me a bit. She never would have made it as a Viking. She didn’t even have the beard for it.
Jo with the win through her hair and a sail in front of her
After a while we were out at sea and go to hoist the sail. As we were in the prime position, at different times myself and Jo both got to do important rope holding tasks. I was excited by this. Even though it mostly consisted of just holding a rope for about 10 minutes, there was a period at the start of pulling on the rope and at the end of slowly letting it out. As you can tell, I am easily pleased.
I was also selected by the captain (it may have just been that I was the nearest but I like to think that I was selected) to lower the sail. I got a bit confused by this as I thought if I lowered it, that it would fall straight into the sea or onto people. I had forgotten that this probably wasn’t the first time that they had lowered a sail on a Viking ship and they probably had a tried and tested method for doing so as I marvelled as the sail lowered itself perfectly between where the crew was sat.
Whilst we were sailing, the captain was warning us that we might have to row back in. I was really hoping we would get to do so as, whilst sailing was neat, we wouldn’t get the full Viking experience if we sailed straight back into port as they were doing later in the day.
As I have mentioned, this is perhaps the coolest thing I will ever do in my life and if you ever get the chance to visit Roskilde (just half an hour from Copenhagen on train), I urge you to do so. The rest of the museum is fun too – you can care your name in runes, paint a shield or sword and many other activities that are probably aimed at children as well as see the ruins from 5 Viking boats that were recovered last century.

The Case of the Mysterious Telegram

Starring:

Bassim El-Wakil as Sherlock Holmes
Stewart Cork as Doctor Watson

from the diary of Doctor John Watson MD


Thursday April 9th, 2015

It was when I was partaking in my sandwiches in the canteen at luncheon that I received a telegram from Holmes:

Holmes cryptic commands
The knocker on which I knocked thrice

This message  puzzled me. Why would Holmes ask me to check on his house without leaving me a key to do so? Surely this couldn’t have been an oversight on his behalf. And why would he command me to deduce? Something was afoot! I wondered if perhaps he had been kidnapped and that this cryptic message was a clue to help me find and rescue him.

Then I realised he probably knew that I would set off the alarm and not have any idea about how to switch it off, This would be why there was no key. But something about the telegram still troubled me. Something didn’t quite seem right. I must venture to his residence and check immediately!

My cunning disguise

I arrived at Holmes’ abode and strode up to the door and knocked on the knocker not once, not twice but thrice. From the lack of answer I managed to deduce that no one was home. Curious!

Walking around the side of the house, I discovered that Holmes’ carriage was there. I know from experience that Holmes is lazy and wouldn’t go to Ireland by foot which made me more suspicious.

I found a comfortable secluded spot to sit and watch the house and donned a disguise and hid from sight. Nothing happened so I went home to dinner.

Not a clue

I noticed upon leaving the gardens of Holmes’ abodethat the house next door was called Oakhurst only the U was a V.

Was this a further clue from Sherlock Holmes to test my deductive powers. Had he somehow managed to alter the letter?

V in roman numerals is five – was he away for five days? But he had advised he would be back Sunday which was only four days away.

It struck me that the residences around Holmes’ were rather old. This was not in fact a clue but was a sign created before they invented spelling. Drat! I shall return tomorrow to continue my investigation.

Friday April 10th 2015

Holmes’ first clue: Nemo

Having had no further communications from Holmes despite my telegram to tell him that his house still existed, I set out to his home in search of further clues.

I concluded that there must be a mystery waiting to be solved, for without leaving me his keys, Holmes had basically asked me to go and look at his house. Why would he ask me to do that if there wasn’t something for me to see there? And the use of the word “mind” in his telegram… surely that suggested he wanted me to use my mind to deduce something. But what?

Me puzzling until my puzzler was sore.

I stumbled upon a clue that Holmes had subtly left me which I had not noticed upon on my first visit. Perhaps I had previously been caught up in taking him at his word and I had literally just trying to check that “all is good.”

The first clue I found was hidden in a little plant pot. A little clown fish. As any child will tell you, these are more commonly known as a Nemo, which is derived from from the popular moving picture, Finding Nemo. Aha! Holmes wanted me to find him! He was Nemo! I was onto something. But I needed more to go on.

Donning my cunning disguise, I waited to see if anything would happen. As it was a windy day, some leaves blew about but there was nothing suspicious.

I puzzled and puzzled and then I puzzled some more. I puzzled and puzzled ’til my puzzler was sore but sadly I made no progress in my investigation.

Instead of worrying about it, I went to the local public house to see if I could lubricate my brain in any way.

Saturday April 11th 2015

I lubricated my brain sufficiently, however my powers of deduction were unfortunately not increased. In fact, this morning, they appear to be slightly worsened. I can only conclude that this must be the effect of ageing, but at an unprecedented speed. Perhaps there was some mysterious toxins in the air which made anyone age rapidly. Perhaps Holmes had somehow been turned into an old man and was calling for help? Ah, no, wait. Alcohol gives you hangovers. I must remember that one in future.


I had set up a cunning trap the preceding day. I had a small blue skull to return to Holmes from a board game and so put this in an envelope addressed to him and put it through the door, however only pushing it through part of the way so that it was still possible to see it through the letterbox.

When I returned this morning, I discovered that my envelope was still hanging in the letterbox and thus there had been no one in to collect it and also no post this morning.

Had Holmes abandoned his house and diverted his post? This seemed like it might be the case. Otherwise, surely there would have been a barrage of communication requesting his assistance in cases, or at the very least, the paperboy would surely have delivered his copy of The Times.

I discovered a plate with Aladin, Jasmine and the genie on it. Was this a sign from Holmes? I wondered if he had been taken off on a magic carpet ride. Ah, magic carpets are but in the realm of fantasy. This could not have happened. He must instead be referring to the song – A Whole New World. The new world, as we know, is a term for America and Holmes had recently mentioned a desire to visit LA. Perhaps that is where he was? But why would he say he’s in Ireland?

Then I recalled – Holmes had been exasperated that everyone hadn’t realised he was in LA last week. So he has just returned from there, I deduced! This is a clue about where he has been, but what about where he currently is? I struggled with this conundrum but made no progress and instead went to get my eyes test.

Sunday April 12th 2015

Aha! I have solved Holmes’ cunning riddle! He has gone to Ireland for the wedding of his sister! I deduced this because he told me it in the car the other day! It was all a cunning double bluff rouse. Holmes is such a cheeky scamp! Fortunately he is home, alive and well and back ready to solve crimes. He has confirmed to me that the wedding was “great” is as unimpressed as ever at my lack of detective skills.

Everything Is Awesome

When I was in primary school, my parents came home one day with a big orange box. The box had about a million pieces of Lego in it. I think they had bought it from parents of a child who had grown out of it and it contained a wide variety of random pieces. This was back in the days when if you bought Lego, you just bought a selection of bricks rather than the packages you get these days of Hogwarts or a pirate ship.

I can’t remember if I was very excited, but in retrospect I really should have been. That one box of Lego provided me with many hours of fun throughout my childhood, attempting to create many different things out of what was available.

I was slightly OCD, however, and everything had to be the same colour. I couldn’t have a house with mostly red bricks and a few random other colours to make up the numbers. That annoyed me and if I was playing with other children, I would secretly rip apart anything they’d made which didn’t conform to my monocolour brick rules and rebuild it appropriately.

The orange box disappeared one day. I am assuming that when my parents thought I had grown out of Lego, they sold it onto the parents of another family who I hope enjoyed it as much as I did. I’m not sure you can ever actually grow out of Lego.

Recently, my life has converged around a few Lego-based things and I started thinking about all the things I used to make.

My cousin sold me his copy of Lego Marvel Superheroes on the Playstation 4. I’m fairly sure it is the first and currently only game that I have fully completed. 100%. Platinum medal. All of that jazz. I’d previously played some of Lego Star Wars, although I didn’t get into as much. Possibly because superheroes are much cooler than lightsabers, no matter what anyone says.

The humour of the game, and of the TV shows (I have only watched one, so I am assuming it runs throughout the other ones) is simple, childish… but still brilliant. It draws you into it’s universe and reminds you of a simpler time when all that mattered was making sure that all your buildings were made of the same colour bricks. Well, that’s what it reminds me of anyway.

Shortly after completing the game, Lovefilm sent me the Lego Movie which I got around to watching the best part of a year after everyone else. I was worried that I would be disappointed after everyone had told me how amazing it is. I was not disappointed. The main part of the film is brilliant and then the metaphysical ending where it turns out Will Ferrell is actually a real life human being rather than a Lego overlord was unexpected but perfect.

I started working in London a couple of months ago and have been using my holiday to take half days and do touristy things. There is currently an exhibition of Lego art called the Art of Brick  which, aptly enough, it is in Brick Lane. When I heard about this, I decided to treat myself to a visit as a birthday present to myself.

The exhibition is all work from an American man named Nathan Sawaya who quit his job as a lawyer to make Lego art. As a job. That is so incredibly cool and inspiring. I kind of want to be him. Especially after you watch some of the videos at the exhibition and realise he is actually a very lovely chap.

I highly recommend this exhibition – it is on until April 2015 and costs about £15 but is worth every penny. I’ve included a couple of photos to give you an idea of the artwork on display. The first couple of rooms feature replicas of other artworks which are cool, but it is not until you get into the rooms where he has created original pieces that you start to see how amazing his work is.

After all of this recent Lego based excitement, I have obviously bought my niece some Duplo for Christmas. Well, I say it’s for my niece….

I’ve got a new complaint

Kurt Cobain died 20 years ago today.

Nirvana were an important part of my youth. I could list all the reasons why I felt they were important and the sort of connection I had to them but it’s the sort of thing that has probably been done over and over in the 23 years since Nevermind was released.

What is more of interest is how long ago that seems, how old it makes me feel and the reducing significance that their impact has had on me over time.

I wonder if this is how our parents generation feel about the Beatles. They’re a band that I dislike for possibly the most stupid of stupid reasons. I don’t see anything original in them because everyone who has come since has ripped them off. So I find their music uninteresting. However, for my parents generation, they were the defining band. They were the ones who changed the way the world worked, which is how I feel about Nirvana.

For my 18 month old niece (and any children I hopefully might have someday), by the time they reach adulthood, Cobain would have been dead for about 40 years. That would mean he’d have been gone two generations. So much could have changed in that sort of time period.

It’s not just the next generations who won’t appreciate the significance of Nirvana.  There was a period when I probably didn’t go more than a day without listening to one of their albums. Now, I could easily go a year without doing so. What seemed to be the most important thing in the world at the time is clearly no longer so. I just don’t feel as strongly about them as I used to, although I recogise the effect that they had on my life.

There was a time when I thought that owning every Mansun EP ever released was the most important thing in the world. A couple of decades later, I can’t work out why I had that line of thought. The significance of these events has faded into the past.

When you look at children of today with their obsessions with the heelies and The One Directions and the pogs and the Spongebob Squarepantses, it is difficult to criticise them for being silly and just following fads and having stupid obsessions, as I did the exact same sort of things. I bleached my hair to look more like Cobain, I called my first guitar Mavis after a fictional character from a Mansun song and several other things that I have either forgotten about or am now too embarrassed to admit.

One of the things I find uncomfortable about with growing up is not that I have discarded interests out of choice, but that they have slowly lost their significance.

Past Stew wants to know what the hell is up with Present Stew and why he has sold out on his punk rock values. Future Stew will want to know why Present Stew even cares about this.

Present Stew just wants a dressing gown and a nice pair of slippers.

We are family

Quite a while ago my sister-in-law told me that I should write more blogs. “Ha!” I thought, “I’ll write one about her! I’m sure she’d love that!”

Had I actually got around to writing this several months ago it might have been more amusing then but nevermind. Anyway, I am going to tell you about the three new additions to my family that have occurred over the last few years.

Let’s start with the day my sister-in-law became my sister-in-law. It was one of the worst days of my life. Not because she was becoming my sister-in-law but because my brother had asked me to be his best man. This was literally the most nerve wracking day of my entire life. I even had Mikey as another best man to help me with everything. What actually happened was that we made each other more and more nervous as the day went on.

We had rehearsed our joint speech a week or so before and we found ourselves hilarious. Come the actual day, having to stand up in front of family and friends and actually do the speech became the most terrifying thing in the world. We were sat next to each other at the table during the meal and barely spoke, unable to drink much wine for fear of the effect it would have on us.

In the end it went well. I guess drawing a graph that turns out to be a penis is a joke that transcends the generations.

My sister-in-law is a wonderful, lovely, generous person who – most importantly – is somehow able to put up with my brother.

Next, to my brother-in-law. He is definitely a spy. No doubt about it. All my sister knows is that he does “something to do with pipes” which means that he has to go out to the middle east a lot. That’s where spies go. I’ve seen James Bond go there. I’ve seen Adam Carter go there. It’s where all of the spies go.

Not that you’d think it to look at him, though. I think that’s probably why he makes such a great spy. No-one suspects him.

My brother and I ushered at their wedding and got extremely confused by the L-shaped room they got married in.  I’d ushered twice before and classed myself as “experienced” but woah – that was a definite challenge to my abilities. We pulled through in the end, despite some hasty rearranging to find a seat for my dad after he had walked my sister down the aisle.

And finally to my favourite member of the family, the only one on the same intellectual level as me – my eighteen month old niece.

I did some research on the internet about how to be a good uncle and the internet told me that you need to
help your niece/nephew push the boundaries that are laid down by their parents. So, when my sister gets annoyed that I’m helping Jess throw her food everywhere, I can just point her in the direction of the internet to back me up.

Jess is wonderful. I know there’s a small possibility of bias but she is definitely 5000% the cutest kid who was ever born. I’ve taught her to high five me as soon as she sees me. That’s cool, right? I could probably go on for ages but instead I will just show you this selfie of me and her which proves that she’s almost as awesome as me.

I used to be in a ska band

This is me rocking out at the reunion
gig mentioned at the end of this blog.

I’ve been thinking about writing this for a while and as there was recently a petition up on Facebook to get us to reform*, the time is probably right to do so. This is probably quite self-indulgent and I don’t expect anyone who wasn’t in the band to understand it all. My apologies for that but I want to get all of this out so I remember it when I go senile.

What’s in a name

Once upon a time, there was a band called Penfold. Penfold fucking rocked. However, it turns out that other bands had also named themselves after Dangermouse’s sidekick and so Penfold decided to change their name.

They emailed a bunch of their friends to ask them what their favourite from a bunch of ska-based pun names which included Rootin’ Tootin Skamoon was. Battleska Galactica was by far and away the most popular so that became their new moniker.

On the subject of names before I ramble on about something else, there was a band called Battleska from Cambridge. They got a little bit annoyed because they thought we had stolen their name and apparently (even though they never came anywhere near Folkestone and we never went anywhere near Cambirdge) people were turning up to up gigs thinking we were them. Having listened to some of their songs, I can only conclude that these people were glad they did so.

This didn’t stop Battleska from Cambridge from getting angrier and angrier over time and at one point posting a message on their message board with the title “Battleska Galactici-fuckoff” saying that they were going to go to the musicians union and then run home and tell their mummy who would tell on us to our mum.

An even more amusing name based story surrounds the publicity over our first final gig when Lewis gave an interview to the local paper who ask him if we could supply them with a photograph to accompany the story. He tells them to get one from the internet and I can only assume that the journalist Googled ‘Battleska Galactica’ and took the first photo that came up, as when the article came out the following week there was a picture of some people we’d never met before. After a little Googling ourselves, we discovered that it was actually a picture of another band called Battleska Galactica from Wellington, New Zealand.

We didn’t make a fuss about them having our name though because we’re not dicks.

Getting from A to B

One day a short while after Battleska Galactica became Battleska Galactica, I was round at Luke and Jason’s flat and it turned out that they didn’t have anyone to take their equipment to their gig that evening and Luke offered me some money and hugs to do so. I did so. This is how I became a roadie for the band.

I was the band’s roadie for several gigs, most notably when they played at the Tunbridge Wells Forum with some band who at the time were going to be the Next Big Thing. I wouldn’t know as I never got to see them as I was guarding my car at the time. The hydraulics that hold up my boot failed when it was opened and the boot slammed shut with the glass windscreen going right through a bass drum. The Next BigThing were quite nice about it but I did spend the entire Battleska set sat out by my car on my own listening to muffled versions of their songs.

A while after this, I was asked to join the band when they wanted to make the sound bigger. I think they probably felt guilty about the windscreen incident and also having to ask me to drive them everywhere. This way, they would surely feel less guilty.

Transportation was to continue to be an issue through all of the BSG years. There was at least one occassion when we had to call a gig off due to lack of transport. We even tried to hire a car for one. Me and Lewis got on the train to Ashford and went to a hire car place to find out that we couldn’t hire a car for some reason. So we just went to McDonalds and came home. That must be the most expensive Maccy D’s I’ve ever had.

We also had one gig that we played somewhere up Norfolk way when Kirsty’s mini broke down on the A-road some distance away from the venue. We ended up having to leave our brass section there and played the gig as a four-piece. I can’t remember if we were humming the brass lines or not but I definitely remember there being a discussion about doing so.

It was earlier on that journey that we invented inter-car charades, which was later to become a Battleska favourite. Without the invention of mobile phones the game would have never have been possible. Another BSG car game was our own unique version of I Spy. Essentially it was a drawn out version in silly voices where you got extremely excited and passionate whenever anyone offered a stupid or correct answer.

Other traffic related stories involve me managing to reverse Galactica One, our minibus into a car belong to the Filaments two days after acquiring it. Having to then play a gig they were at was very awkward. I did give them my number but never heard anything about having to pay for any repairs. If you are out there Ms Filaments, I’m still really sorry.

Galactica One could actually hold an infinite amount of equipment as long as you managed to arrange it in the right order. One evening after a gig in Birmingham, our touring buddies, Reason 69, asked us to take their equipment onto the next gig for them, which resulted in me and Paul spending about twenty minutes playing the minibus equivalent of Tetris.

Driving back home from gigs made me an expert at staying awake and driving late at night. On long journeys home, someone would inevitably shout “STEW! WAKE UP!” during a lull in conversation. I’d respond with “I’M AWAKE!” Comedy gold. They didn’t need to worry though, I’d be half full of adrenalin from the gig and half full of Red Bull and wouldn’t be able to sleep until an hour after getting home.

What goes on tour stays on tour

I mentioned the tour we were on with Reason 69. It was actually the only time we properly went on tour and in true Battleska style, it was pretty poorly organised. A couple of the gigs fell through but it was still one of the most enjoyable things we did.

This was when the infamous “Luke peeing in a Pringles can” story occurred. We were driving around Birmingham on a seemingly never ending ring road trying to find some vague indicator about where the venue was. This was in the days before mobile phones had internet facilities on them, and so Luke had to phone up a friend who had gone to uni in Birmingham and try to get them to direct us over the phone.

Somehow it worked but it took a while to do so and Luke whose bladder resembles a Lidl’s bin bag – able to hold a lot but not for very long – was so desperate that he needed to go while we were navigating around the ring road. With nowhere to stop, his only option was the recently emptied Pringles can. This would not be the last time he would urinate in a moving vehicle.

I had bought a book called something along the lines of “1001 days out for Children” and we used this to find us a campsite called the Billing Aquadrome. We used this as a base for our tour and where we had many fun adventures.

As well as fairground rides and a quiz, it was essentially heaven on earth.

We had a frisbee and we were playing Olympic Frisbee when it went into a lake where some ducks were doing whatever it is that ducks do. Unfortunately it was too far for any of us to reach in and get it. Quick as a flash, I shouted “Someone! Get me the bread!” and using nothing but the power of my ingenuity, I strategically threw the bread so that the ducks nudged the frisbee back to us. This was one of the prodest moments of my life and resulted in me earning the nickname ‘Duckman’.

Two other moments of the tour that stick in my mind are based around when we went into towns to find something to do. The first is when we went to a bowling alley and discovered that the computers were recording how fast you were throwing the ball as well as how many pins you’d hit. This then resulted in us all trying to throw the ball the fastest. Luke won because he is great at smashing things with the power of a thousand exploding suns.

The other was when we went to the swimming pool. I don’t swim so I can’t vouch for the validity of this but the others informed me that the water slide was amazingly named the Cosmic Fantasy Whizz Tube. This tickled us pink and I was quite annoyed when the others didn’t go for calling our final EP ‘Cosmic Fantasy Whizz Tunes’.

I hate camping, though and so I ended up sleeping in Galactica One.  On the first night that we stayed anywhere, we were driving around for some time trying to find somewhere to camp (this was prior to our Aquadrome discovery) and when everyone was getting tired, we just decided to stop up by what appeared to be a deserted field.  Most of the guys set up camp in the field only to discover in the morning that they had camped in a horse’s paddock.

Having been driving and sleeping in the bus, I was quite keen to get an early start back on our final day at the Aquadrome as we had a gig in Canterbury that evening. Everyone else seemed to be faffing in the way that was common of Battleska members and I was grumpy so I thought I’d try and help pack up the others tents while they were faffing. This resulted in me ending up breaking one of Kirsty’s tent poles which made the drive home a little uncomfortable.

Gigging in the rigging

Going to places where no-one has heard of you before is always an interesting experience. People are either not going to care and make you have a crappy time or they’re going to really get into what you’re doing and you’re going to have an amazing time. We were fortunate enough that we’d receive the latter reaction more often and I was always amazed by how much merchandise we would sell at gigs.

Often the others would say they couldn’t be bothered with getting the merch box out and hawking it around but being an accountant I would insist that we did so.  I seem to remember that we actually sold out of t-shirts when we played at Rock’n’Rant – a music/comedy mash up – when we were expecting to sell nothing. That was easily one of the most polite crowds we ever played for.

Some gigs are obviously much more memorable than others.  A couple of my favourites are when we played in a field in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. We’d played earlier that evening at the Gulbenkian in Canterbury and all made the journey to this random location where some kid had booked us to play at a festival in a field that his parents own for his birthday or something.

We were due for quite a late stage time but by the time we eventually took the stage – it was delayed as everything was running late – it was probably around 2am and the entire crowd were entranced. Luke got them to all sit down at the start of My Brother Thom whilst the drums started the intro and getting everyone to jump up when the instruments kicked in.

This was also the gig when I did the most dickish rock star thing I’ve ever done.  We were only about half the way into our set when the kid who was organising it told us we had one more song. This happened several times but the fact that we’d made a big trek to get there, had our stage time  repeatedly pushed back and the crowd lapping up everything we did made me a bit annoyed about it.

So I grabbed the mic or got Luke to announce (I forget which in my old age) that we had been told we could only play one more song and asked them whether they wanted one more or two more. As they were loving it all, the response was that they wanted two and so we over-ran but I don’t think the organiser was actually too annoyed by this fortunately.

This contrasts sharply with other gigs when we pretty much played to no-one except the soundman and our other halves. They could be quite demoralising. The worst was at the Tap’n’Tin when we played with a local band but were on after them. Their entire crowd left when they finished and left us in a deserted room.

Some of our songs had the odd rude word in them and when we’d get booked to play more family type shows – church fetes, open air gigs at the ampitheatre and the like – Luke and Lewis would often be singing along and realise what they were about to sing and substitute it with a “Woo!”

There were other things which occurred on a more regular basis which generally just served to make them funnier. Kirsty had a trumpet solo for the intro to Festa di Carne part 2. It was pretty much guaranteed that if you could catch her attention in any way that she would burst out laughing, so we used to try to invent more and more amusing ways of putting her off.

One common feature of the gigs when Motown was in the band was that he would either play faster or slower  depending on which specific intoxicating substance he’d imbibed. It made it interesting for the rest of the band to try to keep pace.

Motown’s final gig was at Stripes but either the promoter or manager of the bar got annoyed that we had overrun and literally cut the power. A bit annoyed as it was a special moment, someone in the crowd shouted ‘Drum Solo’ which resulted in Motown playing for what could have been 10 seconds or 10 minutes whilst everyone bowed down.

Another Stripes moment I’ve just remembered (this is getting quite ramble-y as I think of more things to add) was the day that Luke handed in his final piece of uni work. He was more drunk than usual before we took to the stage. The floor at Stripes was always either sticky or slippy and Luke managed to fall over a significant number of times (I couldn’t tell you how many as I was busy rocking out), actually playing a large amount of the gig lying on his back.

Take 37

Gigging – when it went well – was the most enjoyable thing about playing in a band, but I also enjoyed the more creative side of things, in writing and recording. It’s always great when you can come up with that one little bit which makes the whole song click.

Many of our songs had in jokes or references that no common listener would be likely to get. This always made it feel a bit more personal and a bit more special. For example, My Brother Thom was named as such because of the fact that I picked my brother’s middle name when he was born. He was named after Thomas the Tank Engine because I was a cool kid.

My brother was to play a part in the band. He managed to get a writing credit on Songs From The Crypt. We were sat around at work one day when we used to work together and I showed him the lyrics to Skank Away Your Heartache that I was working on at the time. Over the course of the working afternoon when we were slacking off, we completed the lyrics together. Dan can take credit for the invention of the word ‘poonfest’ which I’m sure will be in the Oxford English Dictionary one day soon. Unbenownst to me until now, Poonfest is actually a national holiday in Canada.

There is a line in All About The Mary Celeste about ‘Captain Ben’. My housemate Ben thought this was about him but it was actually a reference to Captain Benjamin Briggs of the Mary Celeste. However, when the song evolved to have a more political meaning, it could be said that it then morphed into in some way. It was more fun to think we were singing about him anyway.

These little things are the bits of songs that I like most. Not just our songs, but any songs. Ben Folds is great at really personalising songs and taking them from a regular song to something which seems to have a bit more meaning because it is more personal. Anyway, I digress.

All About The Mary Celeste and Vito were originally going to be part of a concept album which the rest of the band poo-pooed. It would have been amazing though, I think. How many ska bands have done concept albums? From a quick Google it would seem to be about 3 or four. It was going to be about a guy in a mental home with multiple personalities and all of the songs would reference each other. It would have been brilliant but unfortunately no-one shared my vision.

Recording was always an interesting experience. I love how stuff comes together when you layer it over the top of other stuff but I am also not the best musician and so getting something down can be quite a long and frustrating experience. I remember one time wishing the ground would literally swallow me up as I had played the same simple riff wrong about 10 times and everyone else was getting frustrated with me.

I wasn’t the only one to mess up. On the album version of Sexual Walking, we noticed that Luke had played the middle 8 poorly and as the album was essentially recorded live, it wasn’t possible for us to redo it. The name Sexual Walking comes from the wrestling computer game Smackdown where it is the name of one of the taunts. We managed to accidentally find a piece of wrestling commentary that was the exact same length as the middle 8 and layered it over the top to hide the mistake.

On at least two occassions I had to either call in sick or turn up late for work in order for us to complete some recording or mixing.  I felt a little bit bad about it at the time but I obviously didn’t care too much as it didn’t weigh on my mind for too long. Perhaps I felt I had to do it to make up for all the time I wasted playing things badly.

Talking of wasting time, the intro to Skank Away Your Heartache features Lewis blowing on some big jars that we’d filled with water. Not in itself a waste of time, but he did spend 15 minutes of paid recording time tuning the bottles by adding and pouring out the minutest bits of water until he got the note he was after.

Getting our equipment to recording sessions was often a tricky task. At the time, I was the only driver in the band and just had a Rover Metro. Our greatest accomplishment was managing to fit four people, a drumkit, a bass, two guitars and a bunch of leads into it in one time. It probably wasn’t very comfortable but as I was driving, I wasn’t affected by this.

I’m proud of the music we produced. Even Household Name Records said we were “cool.” Although they did point out that they thought we had ripped off Lightyear. On listening to it closely, it did appear as if we had done so. For once, this was unintentional though.

When we posted the copy of Will Skank For Cash to various labels, Luke would kiss every envelope and say/wish “10 million dollars!” with each one. Unfortunately it never came true. Sometimes I felt that maybe we could have made it to a higher level, but it was never to be for various reasons.

You guys are a joy to watch

One of my favourite things about being in a band was the fact that you get to see other bands for free and getting to meet and hang out with them. We met some awesome people in other bands this way. Far too many to list fully, but it was always good to find out that musicians you respected were also lovely people.

There are two bands I do want to mention, though. The first is Army of Juan who later changed their name to Let Our Enemies Beware.  We played them in a battle of the bands at the Beacon Court. They were a three piece with 2 guitarists and a drummer and they blew me and Paul away. Their main guitarist ended up breaking his guitar in two. We ended up beating them and felt bad about it because they were so incredible. Chatting to the guitarist afterwards he was one of the nicest guys ever and instead of being all rock’n’roll about having broken his guitar he was actually a bit sad about not being able to use it again which amused me.

The second is Lightyear. These guys were heroes to us and we supported them at the Concorde 2 in Brighton. I had no guitar tuner so I shyly went up to Nelb to ask if I could borrow his which he very graciously lent me. After the gig Ian who was clearly quite drunk by that point was insistent on telling us that he enjoyed our set which was really nice to hear.

At the same time though you would get booked to play with some horrid and rubbish bands. The rubbish bands, I didn’t really have any problem with. They were generally young kids learning how to be musicians and I’m sure that some of my early gigs weren’t any better.

I never understood why some bands would be dicks to other bands, though. You have to deal with each other on a regular basis, so why try to make problems for yourself? Some promoters were the same which made even less sense as you rely on the bands for what you do.

Another battle of the bands at the Beacon Court, we played against a band who were basically just ripping off Rage Against the Machine. They were obviously annoyed about losing as the next time we went to the venue, one of the bar staff showed us that they’d had to put a poster up in the toilets to cover where the band we beat had carved the c-word into the wall.

I’m gonna be a big big star

Whilst I played guitar, there were occassions when I would have to fill in on bass. The most notable of these was when we were playing at the Purple Turtle in London and despite setting off about 2 days before he had to be there, Jim managed to be late for the gig. So late in fact that he didn’t turn up until the final song of the set. I had to persuade the bassist from the band before us to lend me his bass. He was very precious about it and it took some time. Being left handed, I then had to play it upside down and make up the basslines as we went along. Fortunately we picked our simplest songs but it was still not an experience I would recommend.

Jim wasn’t the only one to turn up after our start time. Pierre once arrived 5 minutes after our stage time when we were supporting Fandangle at their album launch show (which turned out not to be their album launch show as the CDs weren’t ready) in Islington. We were preparing to somehow work out how to play an acoustic-style set on electric guitars when finally he showed.

These sorts of occurrences may have had some bearing on why we didn’t end up with 10 million dollars.

Band rehearsals could sometimes be quite taxing. We were one of the laziest bands that has ever existed. And sometimes one of the grumpiest. We would turn up on a Tuesday and run through our 30 minute set once. We’d then have a break and then we’d have a discussion about whether we needed to rehearse any further because we all knew the set anyway.  This may also have had an affect on why we didn’t make it any further than we did. 

We did become famous enough to get a tab for Will Skank For Cash on several websites. However, it is inaccurate, so I e-mailed some of these sites offering the correct version but none of them seemed to care.

There is nothing quite like having people sing your songs back to you and playing a hometown show was always a bit special. Our final gig was special for that reason but will always remain in my mind as one of the worst I’ve ever played as pretty much everything that could go wrong with my equipment did go wrong. My favourite bit was when Paul and Motown who had both left the band got back up on stage and shouted the chorus to Cheer Up Linkin Park into a mic. It provided a nice ‘full circle’ kind of moment.

Reunion

I got a text message one day after we’d split up which asked if we’d like to support the Voodoo Glow Skulls. The Voodoos were a band that had inspired a few members of our band and we decided to reform to play the show.

We had a couple of rehearsals and I managed to persuade Trev to give me and a few other members of the band a lift to the gig in the Kingskin van. This resulted in me and Lewis finding some alcoholic cola shots which were a pound each which we had a significant number of before the barman pointed out that we could buy the bottle for around £15. Which I did and distributed it amongst the band and those who had come to see us.

I have never been so drunk for a gig but it was such amazing fun. For once when I played the solo to Cheer Up Linkin Park wrong it was due to being unable to remember how to play a guitar rather than to being unable to remember how to play the song.

As for the prospect of another reuninon show? Well, it’s looking like a possibility. Most of the band are keen to do it but one of the problems we had before was our poor organisational skills so we’ll have to wait and see. Watch this space.

* The petition had a 5 week limit on it which was a complete impossibility due to Luke being on honeymoon for three weeks over this period and for some reason it was taken down only about a week after the band was made aware of it.

Why I am vegetarian

I was thinking about writing this yesterday lunchtime as I munched on my sandwiches in the canteen as it’s a question I get asked on average probably every other month. Low and behold, one of my colleagues asked me that very afternoon. It was almost as if it was a sign.
Let’s begin at the beginning. When I was growing up, I wasn’t particulary keen on many meats. There would be some that I’d like, some I’d like occassionally and some I just couldn’t stand (primarily chicken and turkey).
I went to university and studied philosophy. I hated doing exams because I wasn’t very good at them, so I opted to take two dissertations in my final year. Perhaps not what everyone would do but trust me, I was really bad at exams.
One of the dissertations I wrote on the ethics of killing in a variety of settings – war, euthanasia, self-defence and also for food. The conclusion that I came to was that if I could survive without having to force another living creature to die in order for me to do so, then this was an ethically preferable stand point.
It took me a while to become a vegetarian. A couple of months after uni finished, I made myself a lentil shepherd’s pie. It turned out that I’m not really keen on lentils and basically eating a plateful of them put me off going veggie. My housemate got a free meal out of it though.
A while later, I started going out with a vegetarian and this made the transition quite a natural process. I gave up foods one by one, starting with fish and finishing with pepperoni which if anyone still asks, is the thing I miss the most. Although as I’ve been veggie for around 8 years, I can’t say I’ve actually missed it in a long time.
One thing I think about as possibly the most important thing is where I personally draw the line. Some cheese, beers and sweets are not vegetarian because of the way they are produced.
I tend not to be overly fussy about checking which are and are not. The reason for this is that I am fairly sure that the animals weren’t killed for the specific purpose of creating these products. They almost certainly died for other reasons and these products are the offshoot of the fact that a dead animal is available to create them with.
The way I see it, everyone has a point beyond which  they won’t eat animals or animal products. There are people like Freddie Starr who are willing to put absolutely anything in their mouths. Others set the line at not eating animals which are pets (e.g. cats and dogs) or perceived as horrid (e.g. snakes, tarantulas) which in other cultures would not be an issue.
I see an individuals stance animal product eating as being somewhere on the line between vegan and Freddie Starr, although admittedly it’s not exactly a straight line. I know exactly where my limits are and I am comfortable with them.
Some answers to freequently asked questions:
Q: Do you eat fish?
A: No.  Fish are animals. People who eat fish but no other meat are called pescatarians. Or, as I prefer to call them, cheats.
Q: Do you eat meat substitutes?
A: Yes, but it took me a while to get into quorn chicken pieces because the reason I didn’t like white meats was due to their texture. I tend to only eat meat substitutes when they really form an essential part of the dish, for example mince in spaghetti bologonese  or chicken pieces in fajitas.