Party party...

Well, it's that time of the year again, folks! Today's the Annual Office Christmas Party - hurrah, hurrah! Trouble is, being a self-employed one-man-band, that can turn out to be a pretty boring affair, so it's off into town to meet up with all those other crazy freelance photographers out there. Yeah, both of them! I've complained about this before, but do you have any idea how hard it is to get a bunch of freelance photographers together for a booze-up? They won't - not even for an annual get-together - give up any work that comes their way. Mind you, I can't blame them, so it's just me and two mates who're set to meet up at the Christmas Market later. I guess it says a lot about the state of our diaries eh, so spare a thought for the three saddo snappers sipping shandies in the shade of the super-sized Santa in Manchester's Albert Square this afternoon! (Cue violins!)

Naaah! We'll have a blast! Of course we will! It's a tradition we've upheld since the heady work-filled days of the mid-eighties, and it says a lot that the three of us are all still working as photographers to this day! I'll have to watch the suds though, because tomorrow I'll be working as a stall-holder in Culcheth. I'm setting up a stand in the CPS centre to offer my Florescence work, as well as Gift Vouchers for Portraits and Camera Tuition. Come on down from ten o'clock! Bring Paracetomol! Cheers!

God, I hate smoking!

Ugh! Cough! Splurt! Yuck!...

I had to go into a flat yesterday where FIVE people were smoking! God, it was awful, and absolutely astonishing to think that smoking indoors in a public place was the norm right up until recently! As in days of old, of course, it meant that my clothes stank, and thus went straight into the wash once I was home. My nose still feels yucky almost 24 hours on, too. I won't go into detail..

So just what is it with smoking? Why would you do it? And why the f*ck do you all drop your empty cigarette packets in the streets, you inconsiderate, lazy bastards? I grew up in a world where everybody smoked, and I've hated it with a vengeance from an early age. Years on, my Dad's popped it from smoking-related illnesses and, whether by chance or design, I do not have a single friend that smokes. At a Wedding recently it was raining so hard that no-one would go outside to be photographed. They'd go outside to smoke, though! Didn't matter how wet they got, they still went out for their fags! I allowed myself a wry smile and a nod of approval that the venue hadn't supplied them with their own area in which to smoke under cover! Still, it's the non-smokers that get it in the neck, having to squeeze through those disgusting door-way huddles of foul-smelling smokers to get into pubs and the like. The object is defeated, too, when a door opens and a foul cloud of shit wafts in to a room, all the more noticeable because of its previous abscence! Oh, and a word of advice, dear smoker. Chewing gum does not stop us all knowing you've just had a fag! Your breath still stinks! So there!...

God, I hate smoking!

You spin me round..

I watched a great little documentary last night called 'Sound it out', the actual name of the only remaining record shop in Stockton, near Newcastle. It's a lovely little film, and I'm glad to know there are still plenty of music 'nuts' out there keeping vinyl well and truly alive. By sheer coincidence - as so often happens - I came across this shot in my archive the other day. It's the family record player, purloined by me and being played on my top bunk bed in 1977. I can just make out 'No more heroes' by The Stranglers on the top of the pile of singles and, before you ask, yes, I've still got it! It's filed alphabetically between Rod Stewart and the Stray Cats (I know, I know but forgive me, I was young!) I was talking about LPs with a lady once, and her teenage daughter butted in as we chatted. "Lps?.." she said, pulling a funny face "Aren't they those black plate things that you scratched with a needle?"... !

On yer bike...

Well, you'll be delighted to know that I've survived my annual jaunt to the Motorcycle Show in Birmingham. Poor me, having to spend the whole of Saturday wandering around the NEC with two nubile beauties but .. Man, the number of times we were stopped by punters asking if they could have a photograph with the girls! I'm not getting into the 'Sex Sells' debate but I swear half the guys in those halls actually forgot they'd gone to look at motorbikes! Anyway, that's that job done and dusted for another year, and the client's sitting happy with over 400 shots to play with.

I'm swapping broadband supplier today. The company I'm currently with seems to think that wireless connection is spelt Why-Fi? ... Terrible service! Let's just hope BT can come up with the goods and, on that note, if you've emailed me lately and not had a reply, it's probably because my current supplier has put me on hold for my traitorous side-step! I've not had any mail for four days!

Remember my Florescence work? Framed flower photography and images on place-mats and coasters and the like? Well, I know how desperate you are to buy some to give as Christmas presents so... every Saturday in December I'll be selling these much-sought-after items at a stall I'm going to have up the stairs above Sainsbury's supermarket in Culcheth. I can hear your sighs of relief from here! Yes, folks, I've solved your gift-giving dilemmas in the click of a Mac keyboard! Come on down! Just don't look for any beautiful models!..

Blushing!...

Now, you know me. You know I hate to be the centre of attention, so I've really had to step out of my comfort zone for today's blog. However, now that I'm out of it..

Hey, everybody, look at ME!!!!! That's me! It's me! Look! Meeee......
And whilst I'm at it ... Look, it's MEEEE.... again!

Yes, folks! I've made it onto the gallery pages of not one, but two, rock photography websites, and I know I've only just blogged about the shot of ME with Terry O'Neill, but I thought it only right that I gave you another opportunity to look at a photograph of ME!!!!....

Rock Paper Photo in New York, and the online T-shirt company 'Don't Talk to me about heroes' have both added me to their list of prestigious music photographers and, truth to tell - fake bragging aside - I am really, really flattered! It's so cool to think that people might want to see my work and, hey who knows, maybe even buy a print or a T-shirt! A new link went active yesterday allowing music-lovers around the world to log into Amazon and get themselves a tasty little piece of rock history.

Now, what was I talking about? ..

Bubbling along ..

A whole week without a blog! Dear, oh dear, what is going on? Well, fear not, loyal reader - both of you! - things are bubbling along nicely here and it's just taken me this long to park my bum and get something written!

I've had so many rainy, wet Weddings this year that I often joke that I've forgotten how to take photographs in sunshine. Well, I relearnt that pretty quickly on Saturday when I shot a Wedding in Chorlton. The sun was so low in the sky that I had no choice but to shade the lens with my hand, meaning it appeared in half the shots and knowing that I'd have to crop it out of 'em all later. This little nipper was one of the younger guests, making his or her - I'm useless with little 'uns! - own entertainment whilst they waited!

Another fab mish-mash of PR photography to shoot this week. Everything from kids' clothing for a new fashion website to a 70th birthday party at Willington Hall, and this Saturday sees me on my annual jaunt to the NEC in Birmingham for the Motorcycle Live show, where I have to go round all the stands accompanied by two pretty leather-clad young models! Sigh! Actually, I just googled it and on YouTube there's a whole video dedicated to the 'Babes of the NEC Motorcycle Show'! Yay! Sod the bikes, what did the birds look like? (Tell the truth, I've just watched it. For research purposes, you understand! It was filmed by a guy called Keen! I'll say he was. Bum, bum...)

Musically, I went to see The Swans on Saturday and can hearby declare, hands on ears, they are the LOUDEST band I have ever heard! Too loud to enjoy! In fact I spent the whole gig in the bar with Mick Middles, watching them on a TV screen and feeling the drums pulsing through the seats as we shouted across the table at each other! How's that for twenty quid down the drain? Wilko Johnson on Thursday, and then I think that's it for the year.

So, that do you for now? I promise I'll get my ass back in gear and be a little more regular from now on. Actually, does that sentence sound odd to you?...

Welcome to England!...

It's great, living in Britain. You have all these rights, you see. And it doesn't matter how wrong those rights are in the eyes of the majority, they're your rights, so it's right that you have them, right? Oh, I know we say we have laws here, but...  aaaah, don't worry about them, my friend! Want to smoke in a no-smoking area? Fine! Use your mobile whilst you drive? No problemo! Plot terrorism whilst living off the very state you want to destroy, and be allowed to stay in that country whilst you do it? Excellent! Let me just clarify exactly how big a house you need. Wouldn't want you crammed in a small space, say like .. a cell, now, would we? Not when it's your right to be free. Of course it is..

Where's my mojo?...

I must say, I was starting to get rather flattered by all the attention I've been getting this past week or so. Fancy calling a month after me! Movember? Very honoured, I'm sure! You see, my nickname has, for a very long time, been .. Mo!
(It all started when my old boss at the Warrington Guardian used to dish out the photography jobs in the diary, adding the initials MO to the jobs he wanted me to do -  the ilitarrette old fart! Oh sorry, Eddie! Didn't realise you read my blog!) Anyway, Mo I am and Movember it is, although - of course - I realise it's not all about me, and just want to wish good luck to everyone that's trying to grow a moustache for charity this month. Even the men!

So, my motivation at the moment is getting ready for tomorrow's Wedding at Mottram Hall, in Cheshire. I'll motor over in the morning, getting most of the detail shots in the bag before I start to shoot the Bride and her Mother! I imagine photographing, too, a montage of modern men in morning suits, modelling their .. oh God! You get the idea! Somebody get me a mojito! Aaaagh......

Call me....

The phone rang yesterday morning.

That's it! That's the whole blog for today! Why are you still here?

Ok, sorry! A word of explanation. My phone rang yesterday, during office hours, and it was such an unusual occurence I thought I'd share it with you today, that's all. It just came from nowhere - a loud, tribbling bleep - so strange a sound at 'work' that it made me drop my copy of the morning's TV schedules. (I quite fancied yesterday's episode of 'Moving to the country after being told where the nice houses are 'cos we're too stupid to find our own') Anyway, off it went - trill trill, trill trill - and the whole of our wunnerful Social Meeja world went flying out the window. Facebook Messaging? Email, Twitter, Texts, Blogs (Oops!)..? Naaah, I thought, this is it! I'm actually going to talk to someone! On the phone! Almost in person! How good is that?

It was a tele-sales geezer from Virgin Wine. I put the phone down...

Hello Dad...

Well, look at me, hob-nobbing with the rich and famous! This is the 'Photographers' page on RockPaperPhoto, the New York on-line gallery that's stocking my Limited Edition Music Photography. At least, I hope they are, after Superstorm Sandy! I got added to the page about two months ago and now just look who's popped up beside me. It's me old mucker Tel Boy O'Neill, the snapper from Darn Sarf who's been there, done it and definitely got the T-shirt! What esteemed company I keep these days! Mind you, I'll bet his sales are going a little better than mine...

Ay, Caramba...

Nice to see Michael Palin following in my footsteps on his TV programme this week! He travelled between Belem and Manaus in Brazil this week .. a trip I made as a missionary in the eighties, single-handedly introducing The Smiths to those poor, musically deprived Brazilians! Here I am - mullet intact and T-shirt artistically de-sleeved - sailing up the Rio Negro with a French guy whose name I've forgotten and the Brazilian cook who made us spaghetti every night of the trip! I'll never forget getting back to Rio only to find Sugarloaf Mountain hidden by fog and the statue of Christ The Redeemer covered in scaffolding! Sounds like a good excuse to go back...

Remember, remember..

And so to November, and what used to be some of my most exciting days as a kid .. the lead-up to Bonfire Night. The gangs on our estate would all, at this time of year, be ardently guarding their soggy, wet 'bonty' wood - trying to prevent the pilfering of the pile of pallets, planks and discarded furniture that they planned to see go up in smoke on The Fifth! And I see some things never change. Here's a 'Then and Now' of kids collecting 'Penny for the guy' outside shop doorways (Although I'd hardly call stuffing a teddy bear into a t-shirt an effort worth rewarding, would you?) The settings are interesting, though. Thirty five years ago that kid was sitting outside a boarded-up shop and, Lord knows, he'd have had any number of choice of doorways in today's recession but, interestingly - and perhaps more astutely - our 'modern' lad's plonked himself outside a 'Cash Converter' store, where people sell their unwanted items for dosh! Come to think of it, he made £1.50 in the time it took to take this photo! Now that's a conversion!
Quick! Get me a teddy bear......