My salutation of choice when conversing with the auld enemy, I should say at this point that I have not met an Englishman I didn't like, its only when thay all get togoether in groups of more than, say, eleven , that they become a bit objectionable, like jellyfish i suppose. Anyway, I've been saying it rather a lot this past week or two as I get nearer redundancy day at work. Lots of people I work with, and I call many of them my friends are of the English persuasion, even one thats Irish, but is as English an Englishman as I 've ever met, have heard it from me, and tried to return it aswell, which at best sounds comical and at worst makes them sound a bit challenged.
Today is my official final day, though actually Friday 12th March was it for all intents and purposes. That was the day I handed back my mobile phone, my blackberry and my laptop, today was the day I handed back my car. No phone, no car, no mobile connectivity, its like 1985 all over again, but this time I'm fatter and baldier but at least the constant threat of nuclear obliteration has almost all gone and the evil Empress Maggie Thatcher is just an uncomfortable memory.
I kept the car for the weekend becuase I wanted to take No2 son to an English Premiership football match before I receded to the 80s.
That trip is worth a line or two. First of all, we decided to go to Sunderland, for the match against Man City, why?, well, Sunderland is only about 3 and a bit hours away and.. no, wait, that was the only reason.
I punched the coordinates into the satnav and off we went. It took me down the A69 through Jedburgh and on to Newcastle through the Keilder Park. I have to say its a great drive and I recommend it. I should have come home that way but thought it would be too much work in the dark.
The match was good, two Scots boys playing, Craig Gordon and Alan Hutton were brilliant and then the journey home. As I said, I should have taken the same route home, but trusted the satnav to take me home by the quickest route. That was a laugh, the first hour and we were still casting a shadow from the stadium floodlights, the second hour had me setting course for Carlisle. Carlisle!!! But i put my trust in Blaupunkt, thinking, once I'm on the M74, I'll fly up the road. Too be fair, I did, but the extra distance travelled had a consequence.
Because it was my last day with the car and I was handing it back to "the man" the following day, I had or course calculated my required fuel down to fractions. Result, miles to empty indicator plummeting to zero from 20kms in about 5 minutes, the first signs of a little skip in the heartbeat as we came off the M73, then a couple of terminal chugs and silence right in the middle of the roadworks on the M80 just south of Cumbernauld. Bad enough, but no worries, I'll just phone the free recovery people and get towed to the petrol station, oh..whats this, no credit in my inherited PAYG phone, bollocks, still. I'll phone susan, she'll see its me, and phone right back, then I can tell her our predicament, and she'll sort everything out...beep.beep, low battery..beep beep. dead phone. in the space of 5 minutes i had run out of fuel, credit and power, and was now totally lost as to what to do next.
What I did do, was stand there like a day release from Shutter Island, scratching my head and wondering which one of the thundering lorries was going to total the car. We were rescued after about an hour by the patrolling recovery truck which is there to remove you from the traffic for free, though free was something they should have told the driver, who identified in me, an opportunity to make himself £20 richer. He explained that "by law I can only take you to the end of the cones". I must have missed the "only to the end of the cones bill" being passed through the house, maybe its a European thing. Anyway, end of the cones was useless for me, what I wanted was the petrol station, which was another 50 yards up the road. He settled for £10 in the end and HHE recovery, I think it stands for Hills Have Eyes, bore me on to the petrol station. In hindsight, it is actually lucky I ran out of fuel where I did, and lucky the police didnt see me, I think its worthy of a fine and some penalty points if you run out of fuel on the public highway.
So that was yesterday, today was a day of domestic chores and finally dropping the car off at the office, my last connection with that employer now gone.
Its a strange feeling, 21 years I,ve been with them. I've been very lucky and had some great experiences but now its over I feel a bit flat. I think I should have had a big send off, like an ocean liner leaving the quayside, it feels like i just kind of slipped away and its a bit sad. But then I think, thats even sadder, needing some kind of affirmation that its not all been a waste of time and I was worth something, though when i think of it, thats not true either, or I'd still be there.
I'm writing this in an attempt to bury the past, and get on with the future, i hope it works, I dont think I've ever been depressed before, and I'm not now, but I can understand how some people can just lose hope and self worth.
One more thing, the news today was full of David Beckham, you would have thought he had died rather than just hurt his ankle, is it all falling apart for England FC? John Terry, Ashley Cole, now Becks. I dont think so, I think this is going to add resolve, at least until the start of the tournament, then performances will be the thing. I want Spain to win, or Cameroon, of which every Scotsman is a fan.
Lang may yer lum reek.
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