Away From Your Usual

I suppose it’s too late by now to wish you a Happy New Year? In any other post, maybe I’d apologise instead and offer a feeble excuse for why I haven’t had anything to say recently, but this time the truth is simple. There’s nothing to say – at all. Not at the moment, anyway. It’s not a great realisation to come to at the best of times, let alone as we approach Third Time Enabled’s tenth birthday, but I feel I should accept that it’s not necessarily realistic to update it every week or month any more. Recent posts have been shorter, harder to write and – in my eyes – not really worth your time. Perhaps I’ve lost my touch, if I ever had it in the first place. I can only conclude that this blog needs a break, and it’ll be an extended one too.

A friend told me the other day that maybe I should write something that’s “away from my usual” to clear the block. I might take her advice. Failing that, I’ll inspire myself with other people’s writing instead. I want to read as many books as I can in 2025, but at this moment there’s no specific magic number to reach – more the broader desire just to be contented with the reading I’ve done by the end of the year.

I might have come back to you by then, but who knows? Just remember that I’m not saying goodbye, just “see you later”.

Take care of yourselves.

Mason

Showtime

Eleven months ago, I inexplicably posted my student essay analysing Oasis’ Be Here Now on this blog. Complete with its footnotes, too. I can’t imagine many people were very interested in that, but if you were one of those uninspired readers, then fear not. I reckon you might be intrigued by what happened two days later, when I went off to London to do something altogether more exciting. Something that has, until now, been a secret from many – the quiz show Pointless, to be precise, alongside my cousin Matthew.

It was a brief adventure – lasting just over a day in total – but it was still unlike any other I’ve ever embarked upon. Matthew and I are both keen quizzers, but when he first tried to rope me into joining him in January 2023, I wasn’t sure about venturing that far out of my comfort zone. But what’s life without a few risks? All I can say now is that I’m glad I did!

I knew the show would be broadcast eventually, but once we’d filmed it, it just became something that was slowly approaching from a long way away. Life went on. We genuinely didn’t know when to expect it, and we told anyone who asked just that, sometimes on multiple occasions every week. It got old very quickly – so imagine how we felt when we finally got our airdate.

Thursday 3 October 2024, at 5.15pm, on BBC One and BBC iPlayer. Tomorrow night, in other words (at least if you’re in the UK). I am excited and bricking it in equal measure, and I think a few other people might be feeling the same. It’s not every day you get a primetime audience, after all. Maybe you’ll be among them? If you are, I hope that you enjoy it, and that I didn’t make too much of a fool of myself.

I’ll see you on the other side…

Mason

New Year’s Day

As the first day of Freshers’ Week, today – if you work in higher education – almost felt more like New Year’s Day than 1 January itself. There’s a buzz around the campus again, the kind of buzz you miss when everyone’s away over the summer months. Its absence stands out like a sore thumb, but so does the warmth you feel when it returns. As it turns out, that warmth may well be conducive to creativity too. I’ve spent nearly every week since my last post scribbling waffle in my notebook to varying degrees of desperation, but ultimately, nothing I wrote had any life in it. Most of it stopped making sense in the end – I was flogging a dead horse. Happily, I don’t feel that way typing this. It feels like the fire underneath has been reignited, to an extent.

I gave four short appointments to students today, new faces who were each looking for part-time work. I obviously can’t go into detail about who I spoke to or what we discussed, but I can tell you that seeing them become visibly more relaxed about their prospects was immensely satisfying. There can’t be many situations where you can see weights lifted from people’s shoulders in real time. I always say that I’ve felt valued over the last 18 months, but that’s never been truer than it was today. I made a difference, however small, and when that happens you can’t possibly struggle for new material. There are virtues to extol, and not only in my professional life, but my personal life too. My archery beginner’s course looms on Saturday – the first session, at least. I’m looking forward to it, and to hitting more than the woodwork this time. I just need to make sure I build up my upper body strength a bit first, because those bows are tough without a decent pair of biceps. I’m sure I’ll let you know how it goes. Here’s hoping I have another reason to smile by next Monday!

Mason

Baby, Only You Can Burn Out This Fire

I saw that title as a piece of graffiti on a wall when our train pulled into Barcelona a few weeks ago, during our family holiday (it’s a beautiful city for another blog post). There was a lot scrawled over the crumbling, dusty stonework as we rattled along the tracks. Much of it was either meaningless to me or difficult to understand without a working knowledge of Spanish – but I was still drawn to each explosion of colour as it passed. By the time I spotted those words I was almost in a trance, but they snapped me out of it. I immediately found myself thinking about them.

As far as I could remember, they were the only words I’d seen in English since I’d read the signs at the station we’d left. Where had they come from? What did they refer to? Who – if anyone – were they aimed at? All of those questions would remain mysteries, but in that moment I felt they were speaking to me. I just wasn’t quite sure how to interpret them. Perhaps burnout can be defined as one of two things – either the widely recognised state of having drained oneself completely, having given something your all, or the opposite. Extinguishing what keeps you fired up, just through pure apathy. Admitting defeat and letting it win.

I probably sound like some kind of ridiculous lifestyle guru, but that’s not my intention at all. A couple of weeks ago, I got some news that will be tricky for me to process, but I also know that I can’t let it wash over me and blow that spark out. I have to look at the bigger picture, see what’s good about it and smile – because I’ll only have myself to blame for the consequences if I don’t. Who’d have thought that the view from a train in Spain could have given me such a handy motto as a reminder?

Mason

Leave The Laundry ‘Til Later

Mum excitedly texted me the other day to tell me of one of the brand new joys in her life:

“I’ve discovered podcasts!”

Now, she can be late to the party with certain things. She once famously (or infamously) predicted that Clean Bandit would be big after hearing them on the radio, three years after they’d actually started having hits. Louis and I still haven’t quite let her live that down – it can be all too easy to pull her leg, bless her. This time, though, I resisted the considerable urge to do so, because I absolutely understood her enthusiasm. I could feel the energy in those three small words, the same energy I felt myself a few years back. It sounds like a cheesy cliche, but discovering podcasts was like unlocking a brand new world, such is the sheer volume of content that there is to unearth. In fact, I reckon that if there’s a topic that doesn’t have its own podcast yet, it probably isn’t worth knowing about.

For a long time, I wasn’t getting into them quite as much as others were. Lara has always been fond of audiobooks – most of what she reviews on Instagram is listened to rather than read. I once asked her if she found them difficult to focus on, as she’d invariably play them while doing things around the house, writing an essay or – more recently – working on a lesson plan. She assured me there were never any issues, but I was sceptical, and that scepticism extended to podcasts as well. I was convinced I’d be far too busy sorting out my washing to take in what was being said. I was wrong. If anything, the reverse was true, and my washing tends to take a whole lot longer than it really should. What can I say – Lara always knows best, doesn’t she? I should never have doubted her.

I will say that I often cherry pick what I listen to, so to speak. There’ll be some podcasts I never miss an episode of, and others I just tune into now and then depending on a particular subject or guest. Whatever my approach on any given day, I know that I won’t take my headphones off without first having learned something or laughed out loud (even alone in a quiet flat). Let me leave you with a few of my favourites – don’t just take my suggestions, though. Do your own digging and you’ll definitely find something you love just as much:

The Dave Berry Breakfast Show – Absolute Radio

Help I Sexted My Boss – hosted by Jordan North and William Hanson

Crushed – a podcast about unrequited love, hosted by Margaret Cabourn-Smith

The BBC’s Desert Island Discs – hosted by Lauren Laverne

Bring Back V10s – a Formula One podcast covering stories between 1989 and 2005, hosted by Glenn Freeman

Mason

Full Band Setup

In life, we can long for lots of different kinds of company. It can be platonic, physical or romantic, depending on your situation, and there are lots of different far-reaching branches of each type. What I’m looking for right now comes under the ‘platonic’ umbrella – specifically, company of the creative kind. I’m not talking about someone who’s an ‘intellectual equal’ or anything like that. I run a modest blog read by a modest (but loyal) handful of people, so I’m hardly one of the great thinkers of our age. In fact, I’d say that a lot of my attempts to say something profound have fallen a little bit flat, to say the least.

Nevertheless, I can’t deny that it would be nice to have – for want of a better term – a sounding board of sorts. A person, or group of people, who’ll listen to my daft ideas and gently guide me in the right direction without judgment. They might even offer up some of their own, so that I can return the favour. I went to that writers’ group a couple of times, yes, and I was made very welcome on each occasion – but there was something missing. I was surrounded by brilliant minds relating brilliant ideas, but I still didn’t feel completely comfortable for some reason. Perhaps it was difficult to relate to people who were double my age and had spent a life cave diving in Mexico, fascinating though that was. I also wondered if they’d find it tricky to relate to my 26 year old online ramblings, so I ultimately never presented anything to them. Overall, it was a very different experience to one of my Creative Writing workshops during my degree.

Harsh? Maybe, but I can’t help feeling that I need peers in that arena too, just I’d want friends or dates my own age. It might be time to give serious thought to making Third Time Enabled a group project again, and resurrecting the full band setup, as I’d always envisioned. I wonder if Will, Emily or Alex are busy at the moment? Or perhaps I should press on writing the lyrics I’ve promised to show a friend of mine, even though I hate them with a passion in their current draft form. There are a few options to consider, as you can see…

Mason

Pretty Pictures

Believe it or not, a toddler did not bring these pebbles home from playgroup. They were, in fact, painted by me during my lunch break with the team today – if I was being kind to myself, I’d call my approach abstract. There’s a ladybird and a tree in there somewhere if you squint hard enough, you know. Perhaps they serve as irrefutable proof that my talents, if any, lie firmly in words and not in pretty pictures. Needless to say, none of the rest of the team were quite as heavy-handed, and their work was considerably easier on the eye!

Art therapy as a whole, however, is something I’d recommend to anyone, even after just one hour. While the results might have left something to be desired, there’s no question that I felt more relaxed than I had done in some time. Even if you don’t naturally gravitate towards paint or marker pens, don’t be dismissive (as I initially was). Give it a go and you might just be surprised by how much lighter you feel. To be honest, I think we could all do with experiencing that sensation a little more often in this day and age.

Mason

The Vault

The coffee shop – two or three weeks ago, or thereabouts – scribbling away…

Damn. I’ve used this notebook for the one thing I vowed I never would – talking shop. Jotting notes from meetings. In the past, that might have ruined it forever, tainted it to such an extent that I couldn’t use it again. It sounds silly, I know, but it’s always been too easy to feel like I’ve failed in my mission to use it for one purpose and one purpose only. But this time I’m ignoring that, pressing on and using it as a starting point instead. Anything will lend itself to a stream of consciousness if you give it a chance. Besides, as I may or may not have admitted to before, I owe it to Liz to put this book to good use, so that it doesn’t suffer the same fate as so many of its predecessors. And it’s no more useful than it is here, in the coffee shop, accompanying me as I slurp my way through a hot chocolate with plump marshmallows. It gives me precious respite from the screen time that dominates my week. I’ve saved it for precisely this moment, too. It’s approximately 4.30pm, and on a Saturday the place closes at 5pm. When they kick me out, I’ll emerge from warmth and sanctuary into chilly November air – but I’ll still be warmed by the twinkle of those familiar, inspiring lights. I love seeing them framed by steamed-up windows. It makes this feel like the cosiest place on Earth.

Christmas is coming!

Mason

Beyond The Wall Of Smiles

Remember that writing group I referred to recently, in one of Winchester’s coffee shops? I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but I haven’t been in a little while. To tell you the truth, work and other stuff – which you’ll find out about very soon – have been taking it out of me a little bit, and there’s the small matter of an ongoing Grand Prix season to consider too. I’d feel uncomfortable sitting at a table of writers knowing Martin Brundle was on his grid walk at home. Most of my Sunday afternoons between March and November are very antisocial.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about the group, though. More specifically, I’ve been thinking about what I wrote last time I went, in the notebook Liz gave me a couple of months ago. It seems pretty apt to share with you, talking about delaying going back to things. “Describe the scene,” they said, as I reached them that morning. “Describe everything you see, hear and feel in as much detail as possible.” Believe me, that was easy enough:

“The coffee shop is alive with the thrum of conversation, and music blasts throughout, but when I enter I know what’s in store. Beyond the wall of smiles at the counter, a trio of disapproving faces awaits me. My only hope is that when I reach them, they’re distracted by their writing, too immersed to even notice my arrival – but they aren’t, and they do. And they haven’t even started, because they’ve waited for me first. Curse my lateness. Turns out I didn’t know quite how long being ‘on my way’ would take.”

Mason

A Craig David Day

A lot of my posts start with a title, even before I have any idea of how to build what follows. I often have a starting point at the very least – the end of a thread which I can use to find my way through the rest of the labyrinth. Sometimes, though, that thread deserts me, and beyond the title there’s absolutely nothing. Consequently, a lot of the titles stack up in my Drafts section, left there to gather dust with no context whatsoever. I came to this blog today with the intention of writing something completely unrelated from scratch, but that was before I opened my Drafts and saw a trio that was too odd not to share with you. What do you make of these?

“A Craig David Day”

“The Only Escalator In Aberystwyth”

“Even My Computer Is Getting In On The Action”

It’s like they get weirder with each one (I honestly have no idea where I was going with the third). As you can see, I chose the first as the title of this post. Not only is it the snappiest of the three, but it’d also go straight to the top of any alphabetical list, which is always handy for a blog jostling to be noticed among a zillion others.

“7 Days” is an absolute tune too, of course…

Mason