16: A Short History of Niall Ingham.

I'am writing this from the perspective of an outsider as this is my blog so I have to write it and also I cannot think of anyone worthy enough to write this apart from William Shakespeare, I'll leave you to come to your own assumptions about the 'why not's of that idea.
I will now begin.

On the 6th of January 1995 nothing stirred as the night came over the delightful town of Melrose except an Irish woman who was giving birth to a young boy in the hospital. Born at 9:35 PM to be exact was a beautiful sprightly young boy with delight and happiness in his eyes, above him were standing two 'delighted' parents, well, until one of them dropped the ever looming bombshell, ''What the hell are we going to name the bugger?!?''.

The parents of 'the baby' pondered this for days as they paced up and down the ever bustling hospital ward, and after many days of hard thinking and stroking beards they landed on Finn, not a bad choice by the Irish mother but then, unexpectedly St. Patrick shot down in a rage of fire and thunder and said to the parents, ''This child is half Irish therefore should be treated with respect naming the child Finn will ruin his chances of becoming great warrior of the fields of gold and barley!''. The parents were so confused so they asked the saint a question, ''Why should this child not receive an Irish name, you should be glad, bloody patron saint, my arse!''
''You do not know what you are doing to this child, his second name is Ingham is it not? Think about it you goons, naming a boy after a place in Suffolk is not a worthy decision... Christ, this job get's harder every day.'
The parents looked back on thier decision, realised their fault and moved on swiftly as to dwell would've been foolish. They then named the child Niall, a much wiser decision in my personal view as it does mean champion and this guy, well sums him up in one word.

Niall grew up till the age of five in a beautiful countryside cottage nestled in the heart of the Scottish borders. The boy watched his father drive to work every morning watching his car getting smaller and smaller as it crossed the other side of the valley and waving at the blue dot under the impression that his dad was paying attention oblivious to the fact father was more focused on getting away as quick as possible. He grew to the age of five and after his swimming pool birthday party his parents brought him into the front room and sat him down. The little boy was not stupid he could smell something fishy but he kept himself to himself like any amateur spy would. His mum and dad then broke the news that they were all moving down to a city called Lancaster in England and the child's mouth opened and stated ''......whatever.'' and then walked slowly out of the room with a very strange swagger (if you'd call it that).I think this young boy had hit attitude problems early but no we later found out that it was an emergency in the intestine compartment and needed to be dealt with immediately. His parents were splitting up on this move and poor Niall sat and wondered what it would be like and thought about which parent he would rather stay with until his parents just said you'll see both of us, ''crumbs, I was looking forward to sacking off.............*-Explicit Content Blocked'* .''

After 6 long and treacherous years in Lancaster the young boy finally found his feet when he started high school. He was small, but he was mighty and conquered evil bullies with his angelic singing voice which made him become known as Niall, the guy from heaven, well actually just Niall, but the thing was that everybody knew this small guy with a dreadful haircut who could sing 'well good'. Niall was on top of the world, the school celebrity, however before all this he had made a reputation, a reputation for being the most annoying midget known to man, Niallio the Hobbit. And he travelled under this name through the darkness of Kraznir a land which only 7u1 students who had Miss Mckenzie will know about, this land was Niall's home before he stepped back to reality and realised that he had to try and grow up, a new prospect for little Niall as all the kids were towering above him and beginning to sound like Darth Vader as a result of being attacked by the evil, infamous Pue Bertie, he is know to many as bringing unwanted gifts of hairs and shoving apples down peoples throats. Niall stayed out of Pue's way in fear of his poison, not a wise move as Niall would later find out through changing room jokes and people mistaking him for a female, not good.

About a year into Niall's great reign in High School Niall met the infamous Back Door Man. This man would enter people's houses from the back door, suprisingly, and talk to their mum's for the whole evening! Young Niall would sit on the sofa unassumingly watching this mysterious bloke as his 'Back Door' visits were occurring more frequently. The little innocent boy later found out that this mysterious man was a known guitar maestro known as Nigel (a.k.a. Thatchman). Niall thought to himself as he said this name more and more in his head and then it clicked, there is another man called by the name of Nigel and then he remembered, his dad. His mum obviously had type. They even had the same car, and lived on the same street! However Niall did not know the concept of coincidence so we learn to forgive his ignorance.

Back to School and Niall grew up prosperously and managed to regain some dignity through new hairstyles, new clothes and new alias', many failing but he gained strength and power slowly but surely, and to this day has this strength and power, well maybe, in an interview with Niall a day before his 16th birthday he has a few words as we end the story,
''16 tomorrow, don't you dare say, 'you don't look a day over 10' because at this age it is an insult because I know this fact very well you patronising bastards who I call my friends. Thank you anyway for giving me some time when no one else did cause life's a bitch and thank you for being an image so it looks like I have friends. Tomorrow I will be 16, whether I look it or not, I feel it so fuck everybody who thinks I'm 12 I'm living life at what age I feel so thank you for the pointers but I'm on my way now and I feel good, thank you.''


Thank you for listening to my story so far, soon to be released in a cinema near you! Thank you everybody who has helped me look older to get served in the cinema and to support my self esteem.
Goodnight.

When I'm 65.

65. It’s a big old age to think about when you’re my age, 15. I’ve got another 50 years before I have to feel 65 and I’m going to cherish those years because when I do get to the age of 65 I’ll be hopefully retiring with a good pension and going to live on a mountain villa in Italy, however something tells me this will not happen in any place other than my head. Why? Because At the rate our countries going in this day and age I’ll be lucky to retire at 70 let alone at 65 and I just won’t be moving to the Alps to a villa because that’s just not me, but it’s my generalised way of thinking as, to be honest, I don’t want to think about it for too long because dwelling on it would waste my valuable social life (It’s blossoming).

If I’m going to let my immature side out I would say that when I’m 65 I think there will be flying cars and people will ride around on hover bikes but then I click back to reality and say “Niall, snap out of it and act your age” but who does? If I think maturely (yes I have got the capacity) about what I would like the world to be like when I’m 65 would be to have an increased rate of peace between different types of people and different nations and I would like stereotyping to be reduced to a minimum within the youth generation as, it’s chronic at the moment and, we say we allow individuality, but, like a lot of things people say these days, it’s a lie.

There are many things I would love to do before I reach the ‘old’ age of 65 such as tour around the world with my band because we will make it big (don’t any of you say “don’t get ya’ hopes up love” because that would ruin my thunder and at this age I’m allowed to have wild far fetched, exaggerated dreams like that, thank you). Another thing I would like to do is generally live my life to the full ,within means obviously, but just to have fun and I hope to say, at my 65^th birthday party, “I have had a brilliant life (so far) and I’ve done most of the things I really wanted to do and I have no regrets”. And I hope that all of the people reading this can say that, but if you can’t do not fret because I think you should get out there, let your ‘young at heart’ side out, and do all those things you want to because if you don’t, you will regret it.

The job which I would like to retire from at 65 (speaking hypothetically about the age) is being a respected foreign correspondent for BBC News, and loved for my much amusing column in the guardian newspaper and my widely listened to radio show specialising in 20^th century rock’n’roll (way before my time, believe me I know that, but much loved by me and my Ipod (which is a portable music player to fill you in as it wasn’t around when you were young)). So you could say that I have a very clear view of what my career product will be but when you’re my age, you don’t care about much apart from music and girls so it’s ok for us to have these dreams, It keeps our minds at ease from the threat of the ever – worsening job market, so that’s a good thing, and they are do – able but everything will have to go well and I will have to work at it (yes I did say work, it’s a hard prospect but I’m slowly latching on).

So there you go, that’s my perspective of When I’m 65 which is a crystal clear dream to me but a blurred exaggerated idea to everyone else and you know what, I don’t care.

Thank you. Have a great life. 

When Life 'Stops'.

With this subject I say each to their own because everybody has their own opinion on when life truly 'stops' or when you feel life 'stops' because you know it can't really stop but we like to think it can and we play that game. For some people life 'stops' only once in their life and they do not know the moment until they are in their death bed reminiscing their time on planet Earth and they think of the time when their life stopped and they didn't give a f*** about anything and they were lost in the moment. For other people you have as many moments where life 'stops' as you want and you know when those moments are when they happen, this is people like me.

The night was 20 November 2010 a cold winters evening standing against a red brick wall of a building in Ardwick, Manchester. I heard the distant sound of a Gibson Les Paul, no mistake, like the harmony scale of a church choir to my ears from the inside of the dark bleak building and somehow I knew it had started. My backside crunched down into the seat and a long connection was made immediately to last the night. Moments and moments passed timeless through my mind and then I once again heard the 'choir' sing once more but this time the reality of it blew me away. My mind went silent and motionless as the beauty of the moment obliterated my senses. The gritty heartfelt voice sung out like flocks of angels to me and the bass-filled rumble of the drums and bass will strum my heart strings for time yet to come...

The beating of my heart took a step back towards normal insanity again on the morning of 21 November 2010 and all memory of the night before will stick in my mind and in my heart as one of the moments when I didn't give a f*** about anything or anyone and, for me, life 'stopped'...









You gotta' have abit'a cheesieness in life, it is essential. Bye.

The Life of a Short Arse

Before any of you ask, yes this post is wholly all about me. Its basically my life and many other people's life but i have just decided to share mine. I have been short-er than everyone else since year 1 when i was he tallest person in my class, yes i do dream of those times often. In year 8 i thought it may be ok to be a little bit shorter than everyone else but then people started towering above me like goliaths and i was little David below them looking up at what could've been, and I thought, well, there is another few years before size 'matters'. In my opinion size 'matters' when you start wanting to 'pull'/get girls and generally the boy is traditionally taller however in my case this is hard to accomplish. I have reached this stage, I'am 15 so I think the age has come don't you? Thanks mum thanks dad (they ain't the tallest people, they can't help it but you get me)!

Some might say (including myself) that i choose the wrong friends, i shall explain, when this growth spurt happened (to everyone but me) alot of people stayed 'small' however the people who grew the most were my closest friends! For example two of my best friend's heights are: 6' 1 and 6' 0! This is not good because it means that I wander around school with what i call GIANTS and this does nothing to help my already dreadful reputation as you can imagine the amount of remarks I get and the worst thing is they are generally from my best friend ( the 6' 0 one!), very pleasent indeed!
There is a few up-sides to being short; I get the cute factor when it somes to girls (The big daddy of up-sides), I can fit in small spaces (sometimes very helpful but sometimes just a nuisance), I can hide behind people effectively in hours of need e.g. if Im being threatened by children 4 years younger than me (we share the same size, they may be slightly taller)), I can fit in a suitcase to travel the world. So yes I can get some good things from being a short arse.

Now its story time.

I was on work experience in june (still 15) and me and my friends decided to go and see the new twilight film (FOR THEM NOT ME!). It was a 12 so i knew i would have no problem getting in as i was sure I did not look 12, 13 1/2 at the least. So I walked in and stood in the queue for an uncomfortable amount of time as usually happens in these situations but we eventually reached the counter and the dreaded question was asked and the following dialogue took place:
Desk person: How old are you?
Me: erm.. 15
DP: Haha, its only a 12 you don't have to lie! (Giggles to themself in a jokey, high pitched fashion)
Me: No but I am 15.
DP: I don't think so love i'll charge you for the 12 - 14 ticket, 4.50 please?
Me: No really I'm 15 you can charge me for that ticket please.
.......
So there you are I ended up arguing to be charged more so my self esteem will be kept at a still low level. How stupid did I look? Very! It was not cool because I was out of pocket 50p and my self esteem was lowered as all my friends never let me forget it and I always remember that very demeening day, hence why I'am broadcasting it to you lovely people! Thank you for listening to my life story. Stay golden, roll with me soon ye?
Bye.