Author: Paul

This is one of my favourite times of year. I get the feeling I have said that enough times before but needed it as an opening gambit. It’s nice and cold outside and we are now a week off from Christmas festivities.
It’s strange the way the focus of Christmas changes as you grow up. There was a time when I was getting up on Christmas morning to watch the latest Disney video left at the bottom of my bed, wrapped in something hideously festive. The intention was that I would watch the video and buy my parents an extra hour and a half in bed when otherwise we would be hassling them to get up and open presents. Ritual always was to have breakfast before we opened anything. You’ve never seen three boys giddily bolt down food that quickly in your life. It’s an incredible feeling waking up on Christmas Day as a child. I don’t think I’ve matched it as an adult.

Now I make it a rule to head into Christmas with friends and alcohol. Luckily they’re quite willing to get into this ritual with me. Every year since I was eighteen we have gone to the pub on Christmas Eve. It’s just the way things are. It’s one of the most consistent nights. There are good vibrations in the air. It also feels a little bit naughty because I know Santa won’t come until I’m in bed so technically I’m keeping him up on the night shift as I swagger home in the cold, wobbling.

I love giving presents, more so than receiving them. I have this strange guilt about getting gifts as an adult, like a Jehovah’s Witness or something.
At the weekend I went to see my friend Will and his little son/my godson Toby.
Kate and I got them such good presents and they genuinely seemed to appreciate it. It’s worlds away from just getting something for the sake of it, I try to put something into the thought of what I get for people in the way I hope they do for me.

That’s the start of it I guess. I also love the food. It’s one of the truly gluttonous times of year. I love the films on TV (except ET). I even love my family. I am just stuffed with cheer right now.

Last night I went to my office Christmas party. I do quite enjoy an office Christmas party. There’s very much a protocol to the way things are run. It’s sort of like a school disco, but you don’t have to hide your hipflask…. scratch that, it’s exactly like a school disco. It’s just a nice excuse for people to let their work masks fall to the floor and to actually talk to each other about how they really feel. These tend to fall into the following categories:

• “You’re a great guy/girl. I love working with you”.
• “You’re a bastard, get away from me, you owe me a pint!”
• “Why don’t we talk at work?”

The majority of this kind of thing will be completely forgotten on Monday, or at the very least people will pretend that they have forgotten about it in order to try and make their office life a little bit simpler. It becomes a chore when you can’t make it to the printer without having to give a cheeky wink and a hiya to everyone so people tend to stick to their own and its a terrible way to be. It’s very English and it is very claustrophobic. 
I have a solution. We drink during work hours. 
Sure, it might not help productivity. Sure it might increase the number of people vomiting in the canteen but I wish we could have the camaraderie of last night every single day. It was a delight. 

I awoke this morning with a scream. This is not usual protocol.
Horrific re-imaginings of my evening out with the new team I have joined at work.
The vague idea that I spoke to my boss about Judaism and journalism.
Thoughts of challenging someone to a charity wrestling match.
Writing things I will never understand again, things I wasn’t even too sure of at the time. These are the things that blindside me at six am on a Thursday.
There isn’t enough black coffee for the aching BPM in my temples. I’m going to have to deal with this all day.
I awoke this morning with a scream.

There’s something about being out in this weather that does something to me. Not just walking faster to arrive at my destination that much quicker but something aside, something more. Everything seems a lot quieter and more peaceful when it is cold out. I don’t know if the temperature limits air waves transmitting but it just seems so serene.

According to my MacBook it was -6 when I left the house this morning. I might have to call shenanigans on that but it is noticeably colder this week. Last night I went to get in my car and the windows were frozen both inside and out. I don’t think we are too far from having to hide away in a library and burn books to keep warm ala The Day After Tomorrow. Was that film as ridiculous as I remember it? Thought so.

A bit off track there, I’m sorry. I suppose a part of it is the approach of Christmas, there’s something very jolly old St Nick in the air. Obviously post December this just turns to a depressing seemingly never ending chill but I say for now, embrace it and in the words of my Neg Pan Soc cohort Mike; the sun will come out soon.

Do you remember that episode of The Simpsons where Homer becomes a food critic and everyone gets really fat because he tells them everything tastes amazing? That’s the way I write about films.

Recently I’ve been doing some freelance work for Screen Geek. This involves wandering around London trying to find tiny screening rooms and then eating little triangle sandwiches, drinking wine and avoiding eye contact until the film starts. After that I tend to escape, ponder and write. It’s a routine that seems to be working for me so far.

What I have noticed is that a lot of people who review films for a living; or at least for some sort of income maybe, are pretty disrespectful about most films. I don’t know if it is because I was brought up to believe that if you can’t say anything nice then you shouldn’t say anything at all or if I just have completely different tastes. I’m reminded of a line from Perks; be a filter, not a sponge.

I’m just of the belief that every film has some kind of merit. It is very rare that I’ll ever turn a film off or walk out of the cinema but then again I haven’t seen White Chicks or Solaris all the way through so maybe that’s why.
It isn’t even that I worry that someone of power will read my review and not approve of my negative critique, because I only ever write what I believe, and I think that 99% of films have some form of escapism to them, that there is something to be taken away, some kind of benefit, even if it is that you’ll never see that again. I’m a glutton for cinema and I’m going to bloat you all out on film pie.

I start my new job today.
The formality of the event has gone out the window a bit. Rather than wearing the crisp formal shirt and smart shoes I’ve gone for a sort of Cobain casual. This will show the man that I cannot be formatted.
I don’t think it will really but hey ho.
I’ve got another film to review tonight, I’m going to a press screening of Midnight Son, my second night at the Soho Screening Rooms in a week. It really is cool down there.

Aside from that not a lot to report.
Oh I’m going to read Catcher In The Rye again because its December and that is the season for reading Catcher.

It’s been a funny sort of day. 
I got up with every intention of doing something, but I couldn’t place exactly what that thing is. So I messed about on the guitar for a while, recorded a cover, and then watched a film and suddenly it’s six o’clock and I’m wondering if it is worth doing anything at all or just realising that I will just be getting up for work in twelve hours and that this is all just a horrific cycle. 
Wow, I’ve just depressed myself. 

First off, I shouldn’t be proud of that pun title, but I am.
Secondly, last night I went to see Band Of Skulls at Brixton Academy. The lovely Kate got us tickets promising me that they were one of the best live bands she has ever seen. I think it is worth baring in mind that when she says that she hasn’t seen Arcade Fire, The Libertines, Jack White, Pulp, Radiohead, Bright Eye or The Maccabees live. I count those as some of the best live bands I’ve seen you see.
That aside they were working very much in her favour for winning me over last night. I think the important thing to remember is that it is unusual to see a young British rock ‘n’ roll three-piece. When I say rock ‘n’ roll I don’t mean indie because they are thirteen a dozen at the moment. What I mean is a balls out, high-class riffing, head-banging, feedbacking rock band. There’s no need for anything beyond the three of them, a simple lighting rig and their name as a backdrop. The music well and truly speaks for itself, and I say that as a casual fan, someone who knows the songs but isn’t going to go out and get them tattooed across my forehead.
For a band with only two albums under their belt they can keep a crowd going, and know how to tease out the intro to Light Of The Morning at least twice before deciding to play it in full. While they’re a band who might not be completely comfortable in social situations you put instruments between them and a crowd of thousands and they can really pull it off. They can comfortably play around with the format of songs during a live set and seem to really enjoy what they do and appreciate the bouncing heads and screams lit up before them. They’re a band who should continue from strength to strength. Proof that there is no end in sight for this rock ‘n’ roll fad yet.

Today is my last day in my current role. As of Monday I’m considered a manager. Technically I’m considered a manager now because I have changed the signatory on my email to reflect this but that’s not the point. I could have changed it to CEO.
Two and a half years ago I started commuting to London alongside a promotion. It was something completely new and alien to me. I knew one person in the entire building and I had blagged enough of the interview that I was constantly at threat of being discovered to be a fake and burnt on a pyre.

As it turns out nobody really knew what they were doing and I fitted in quite well. During this time I have been through an awful lot. It’s near soap opera levels to be quite honest with you and it’s strange to think that the whole time I was clocking in, performing my job and going home again, where the weight of everything else seemed to sit.

Thanks to the incredible people I worked with being at work wasn’t an issue. I would go in and feel free of anything that was going on outside and while a number of people still don’t know about this and are still unaware of the input they made I hope that in time I can put those final demons to bed and be true and open about it all.

As of Monday I go back to being the new boy, the under dog, the clueless and I’m terrified of that. I’ve become a reasonable point of reference on my team. Most of the time I can provide an answer or seek it on someone’s behalf and while I know that some of the skills are transferable it doesn’t change the fact that I’m moving into a realm where everyone has their finger a lot more on the button than I do.
It’s a positive kind of fear. I’ve come a long way this year in near enough every aspect and this makes a nice little closing chapter.