Good Friday - DIY Worship & Remembering my Father

Happy Easter bloggers. Today is Good Friday. For the religious amongst you a hugely significant time of the year. For the non religious. A welcome Bank Holiday and excuse to do DIY or nip away on a short break.

I am somewhere in between. neither religious or agnostic. Faith is part of my life but for me an orthodox organised religion doesn't appeal. I respect this time of year of course & those who celebrate it, however the whole Jesus on a cross thing followed by resurrection passes me by.

Don't get me wrong I'll join in with the classic celebrations by gorging on over priced eggs and slapping as much shelving up as possible. It's good to pay respects to the good lord by over eating and improving ones home.

DIY is THE most popular activity over the long weekend. Men up and down the land do their annual pilgrimage to the Great Mecca of Homebase or pray at the Altar of B&Q. Of course the Holy Grail is Ikea, however you must have the patience of a Saint to attempt this. Worshippers of all things home, blankly walk around this holy place. Ironically it usually takes from Good Friday to Easter Sunday to reach the altar of the till to pay for your holy stuff (2 wall units, a wardrobe, a rug, 3 plants, an office swivel chair that will be impossible to put together and 3 hot dogs)

More people will visit this Holy land than the church this Easter. Need i say more as to why we're so morally and spiritually bankrupt? Maybe the church should do mini hot dogs/Meatballs and self serve Ice cream out of a machine. People would be flocking then. In fact if the Church bolted on a DIY outlet and Garden centre they would be packed out. I'll WhatsApp the Arch Bishop later to put forward my ideas.

Easter is personally an exceptionally poignant time for me. Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Fathers death & 12 years on Easter Sunday since I first realised i had problem with drinking and wanted to something about it

I can't believe it's 3 years since David Michael Evans' long lonely battle against alcoholism was finally ended. 3 years since he was found dead in his warden controlled flat from a severe hemorrhage with liver damage at the age of 65.

I don't need to rehash last years blog, I've written about it before. Basically he had a 25 year suicide. Chucking in his life to full blown alcoholism around 1985 leaving any kind of normal reality, family, wife, job, home behind to live a life of an alcoholic. Pretty sad and tragic waste of life. But then again he is not alone. There are several thousand Mike Evans' a year. His death though is not in vain.

He does act as some kind of example to me as to what alcoholism is and can do. So he does live on in me and others and his is a powerful story.

I'm not sad. I'm reflective and it always makes me think of him. It's like my mind is stuck in the late 70's and early 80's as that is the only memory and time I had with him. Perhaps why I'm so nostalgic for the 70's era and The Sweeney. They were on the whole happy times as a kid. plus he just wanted to be Regan, but don't we all?

I remember his massive purple 70's pants. His beard, his charisma, his humour, his Cortina, his stash of porn mags under the drivers seat. His B&H, his 80's nylon trousers, his swearing, grandiosity, his massive fucking ego. (As I said only a man as grandiose as my father could be born on Christmas day and die on Good Friday, nice one Dad)

I remember much about him but if i could ask one thing. If the clock could be turned back I would ask my Dad please Dad when i was 11 could you please not pin me down and squeeze my blackheads after picking your arse. I'd rather not have skid stained fingernails on my face.

We are all flawed and I do not blame. I'm not sure what the rest of my family feel about it now but it's a long time ago and it's just one of those things. Everyone has shit go on in their family (not usually under their fingernails though) and we are all damaged in some way - but on the whole I have fond memories of him and in so many ways without realising it i want to emulate him, be part of him, make him proud. I never want to forget.

His death remains a powerful example of alcoholism to me and in some ways helps to power me to remain sober and also increase my passion in recovery and flagging up addiction as a disease. I don't want to get all preachy and wanky about it as most of the general public get turned off. But it's real and it happens and it''s everywhere. It just so happens my father was a classic example.

So today Mike Evans you are remembered. Certainly by me and I suppose in their own way by others too. Time passes. New generations are born. The world moves on. But today on Good Friday i remember my father, the religious of you will remember Jesus dying on the cross for others. Well my Dad had a beard......he was also born on Xmas day.....just saying he could have been that's all. Not sure Jesus wore Farah trousers though, drove a Sierra and drank Tenants Super.

From what little I know Jesus died to help others. I'm not in any way comparing my father's death with his. (That would be insane) But by sharing his story I like to think Mike Evans could have died for others too. As an example as a story about how the long lonely path of alcoholism is played out. There is only one winner when it comes to addiction. It is more powerful than any human power and if you have it, it will take you down and others around you. It will devour everything in your path. It will do it slowly and cunningly without you knowing but it will take you down. It wants you dead and unless there is a spiritual experience, unless the sufferer really wants to stop, there is little hope. There is only one winner.

How do I know this? Well the facts are in my family. The facts are in my father. This is not make believe theoretical bullshit. They are hard nosed facts. He had a wife, job, home, 3 kids and much going for him and lost it all to live alone for 20 years in various doss houses, warden controlled flats and drink on the streets in Shepherds Bush green. He died alone, undiscovered for 6 days with nobody around him in a flat that had no semblance of humanity to it. There were 8 people at his funeral.

Don't believe in alcoholism or addiction? Well take another look and maybe you will readjust your attitude. I know i did. Just because alcoholism or addiction is not put on a death certificate it doesn't mean it isn't what killed them.

In my father's case it took nearly 25 years. But the good news is it doesn't have to be that way. I certainly hope it wont be for me or others. I guess that's why I'm so committed to a 12 step recovery programme.  He's a top example so I'm going to raise a cup of tea, diet coke, cigarette (because I love a replacement addiction) to him today and salute his soul, who he was and alcoholism.

Before i go just a quick memory on the subject of Easter and DIY. He was the worlds worst at DIY. A skill i have inherited. Putting up a wardrobe or shelf was like an object in the art of swearing. He would be there with his bum crack showing and all i would hear is "fucking arseholes", "fuck sake", "fucking wankers", "shit" and "wanker". It was a great lesson for a 10 year old.

He wired a bathroom when i was younger, replacing the wiring in the main bathroom light and the small strip light above the sink. On testing when you pulled the little chord on the strip light the main light came on and when you flicked the main light switch the little strip light came on. Totally classic. And what did my father have to say on the subject? "fucking arseholes" -

This weekend I'm going to do some DIY in his honour, get it totally wrong, swear like a trooper and ultimately give up in a huff. God bless you Dad. You're always alive

Nicholas Edward
xx

Is it Really a Year since last year's marathon?

My new website is currently what is technically known as f**ed. Whilst it's being repaired I'm back on my old blog. You know the one from last year. The one where i wrote every day for 2012. The one I started up for last year's London Marathon.

Guess what. The 2013 marathon is 4 weeks today. 4 f***g weeks!! How on earth did that happen? It's nearly a year since the annual orgy of lycra was let loose on the streets of London. I can't believe it. Insane. Time really does go faster as you get older.

I've been injured and in a permanent state of sloth during this never ending winter and I'm weeks behind on training. I'm not going to be able to get into the proper shape to run it in any spectacular time, but I did my 3rd long run today of 17.5 miles and felt pretty good. That is until I melted on 16 miles and ran the final mile and a half at the speed of Customer Service at Argos.

I looked like a man who had shit himself and was walking briskly home to dispose of his heavily shitted underpants. I wasn't at my aesthetic best but after 15 miles you cease caring about anything, how you look, what people think of you. You can have snot running down your nose, congealed gob all over your face, tongue lolling around like your having a stroke and be bent over like you've been f**ed by a 10 inch strap on and you couldn't care less - Your sole purpose in life at that stage is to get home, stop running and get a brew on.

The run was duly completed which I'm pretty chuffed about but i can definately detect signs of turning 40. My body is falling apart. Of course marathon running hurts but since turning 40 my body and mind has gone into some kind of dirty protest over endurance sports and is on strike. "OK Evans you want to run do you well let's show you who's boss. Ping there goes the hamstring. Boom - Pain to the spine and , Kerpow - lungs on fire. Teach you for smoking" - It's really doing a number on me.

Still I'm on two feet and able to do it so I am counting my blessings and things are pretty groovy really.

I will resist the temptation to run over the past year since the last marathon but since I finished writing the blog on 31st December 2012 I effectively retired from any creativity or action. I retreated to a familiar place of sloth, self pity, self hatred and self which is no good to me, you or anyone. I'm just coming out of that place now and look forward to the remainder of 2013. It can only get better can't it? There's plenty to be getting on with.

That is starting from now. I'm going to have a long bath and play with my balls. Then it's a meeting for me tonight and work tomorrow, Yes you heard that right. I'm off to work on a Monday. It's insane. Obviously I'll reward myself with 3 days off afterwards. It's not easy working for yourself is it? I mean Minder is on ITV every morning at 8.30am usually followed by the Professionals and The Sweeney. How on earth is a man supposed to get out the door to work with all that on?

Such a hard life us men have girls. On top of that I've had one of those militant 'Man Colds' for the past couple of weeks. Not once have i complained or moaned...much, but on the same token nobody has applauded me for showing up and getting on with stuff. When men are ill we want constant attention and validation for the most menial task. Such brave little soldiers aren't we?

Have a groovy week people. It's good to be writing again, it helps with the self critical negative head.

Oh and if your feeling generous you can sponsor me for the marathon which I'm doing for my usual Charity I support, Action on Addiction. I would appreciate any donations

www.justgiving.com/thenickevans

Toodle pip
xx

2013 and all that........

I'm back..on here for one post only.

Just to say I've been doing fuck all during the winter and any creative spurt I had from last year left me long ago. I've stalled. I've hit a road block. Here is the latest attempt of me not to be me and get my arse into gear.

So I will be writing a weekly blog on my new format and new blog.

Go to www.thenickevans.co.uk and follow me on there to see if I can be arsed to actually drag myself out of this slothful winter mire.....If nothing else it's better than Dancing on Ice. Hopefully

Bye

Evans