markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www,bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story.
Saturday was my birthday. I'm not going to reveal my age although I still like to think I can still hack it down with the twenty year olds.
All the lunar stars must have been aligned in the correct heavenly sphere, or something similar along the same lines because every thing fell into place. It's the half term school holiday (it feels as if they have only just gone back after the summer break) and my parents asked if the children could stay around theirs on Saturday night because they wanted to take them out all day Sunday.
The wife and I got an invite to her best friend's 40th birthday party which was being held on the same day as my birthday. They have known each other since they first went to primary school, and now her friend lives in London she doesn't get to see her as often as she likes. 'You don't mind if I go to her party do you?' She asked, 'you have been invited too, but if you don't want to go I understand,' she continued.
It was sweet music to my ears. I was free to spend Saturday night with my friends.
The final piece of the heavenly jig-saw to fall into place was that my football team was playing at home as well.
I started to spread the word via text to meet in the Steam Packet public house at 5pm after the game was finished. I informed Kim the owner I would be holding a birthday bass in his place and all was set. The only draw back I could see on the horizon was if the mighty Canaries were to loose the game against the visiting team Cardiff. This would have put a dampener on the evening as a lot of my friends will have gone to the game.
Well it was a 0.0 draw in the end although quite a good game which Norwich could have easily won 3.0 if the other teams keeper hadn't played so well.
When I reached the pub it was packed with people standing outside to enjoy the last of the autumn warmth before winter hits. I was noticed and as I crossed the road a chorus of happy birthday wafted from the crowd. Everyone had turned up and it took ten minutes to free myself from all the congratulations before I could reach the bar. When I got there drinks were already waiting for me and the offers kept flooding in. I couldn't keep up with all the pints coming my one way and was soon on the Bacardi and diet cokes, a lot of them were doubles.
Kim had provided a free buffy and the atmosphere was in full swing. By 10pm the shots were being necked and people were standing on tables and chairs singing along to football songs. By midnight I was heading home in a taxi in a very merry mood.
When I slumbered between the sheets my bed was empty. By the time the dear wife came home crashing through the bedroom door, fell into bed with her cloths strewn across the floor, and her make up still on, I knew she had had a good time too.
In the morning my head was numb with the first vibrations of a thundering headache looming on the horizon. My heart was galloping like a startled Stallion, my throat was sore from all the singing the night before, and my soul cried out for liquid refreshment that would rehydrate the desert that was my body. I tried to ignore all of this, but when I felt the need to pee it was pointless trying to get back to sleep; I would need to get up.
I turned over in bed and looked at my weekend medical kit; a pint of water, a packet of paracetamol, and some Rennie indigestion tablets. I devoured all three and then turned back towards the wife. I nudged her to see if she was still alive and when she turned onto her side while grunting at me I decided to get up.
I paid a visit to the little boys room and the clock said it was 8am. Now as I normally get up between 5.30 and 6am most days I considered 8pm a good lay-in. I went down stairs and made myself a cup of tea then watched Match of The Day on BBC one. Something was swirling in my head and it wasn't the hang-over? The Sunday morning repeat of Match of The Day starts at 7am so how could it be 8 in the morning!
Then I remembered the clocks should have gone back an hour the night before and it was only seven in the morning. I knew it was pointless trying to get back to sleep no matter how rough I felt so I decided to enjoy the piece and quite, plus the rare luxury of having the only television in our home to myself, before the children returned, and the dear wife finally got up.
All in all a very good birthday indeed.
Regards
Mark.
Tuesday 29 October 2013
Friday 25 October 2013
More than my job is worth.
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Every now and then we meet people who just get up your nose. The type of people who are no-bodies, but because they have a job title they think they might be somebody, although they can't make a choice in life without hiding behind somebody else, or some made up rule.
The type of people who seem to have no other purpose in life other than to just live, and can't or won't do something because it's more than their job is worth to do it. The type of people who are generally called in the U.K; the job's worth.
Now for my other English speaking viewers around the world I presume that where ever you live be it America to Australia then the term, a job's worth means the same as it does in the U.K. For my Chinese, Russian, German, French viewers, and all the other countries where people read my blog I can only presume again you will have the similar name in your mother tongue for somebody who is similar.
Why I'm bringing this subject up is because last week I had the misfortune of bumping into two of these people.
The first was on Tuesday. I had been contacted by the journalist Kathryn Bradley from the Lowestoft Journal www.lowestoftjournal.co.uk who wanted to interview me about my book Frenzy a Daniel Jones story. I was born and bred in Lowestoft and started my working life on the towns fish market when I left school. I completed my apprenticeship as an auctioneer and had a wonderful time selling the daily fish catches from the fishing fleet in the mornings. It was cold work in a noisy and smelly environment with plenty of rough character's, but in the end it all came crashing down when Margaret Thatcher gave away the industry. She signed the EEC common agriculture and fisheries policy. Tens of thousands of people relied on this industry, now there are just a hundred or so.
I was the third generation to have a connection to the market with my Grandfather working as a fisherman on the last steam drifter from the port. Because of this the editor wanted the photographer to take some pictures with me, and my book, on the market and so we arranged to meet there. The only problem was that when we got on site a security guard wouldn't allow the pictures to be taken because as he said, 'it's more than my job is worth.' So we got on the phone to his boss who again passed us on to someone else, who again passed us on. After half an hour and five different people we gave up, and went to Nest Point the most easterly place in Great Britain, then took the pictures there. It only took five minutes and the job was done.
The second occasion was last Thursday at Norwich Cathedral. I volunteer for a few hours every week as a greeter in the hostery at the Cathedral www.cathedral.org.co. I like to get out and meet other people and I greet the visitors at the entrance, point them in the right direction, answer any questions as best I can, and give relevant information. Well on this day a man turned up on a mobility scooter for a tour of the cathedral, but wanted to walk on the tour so leaving his scooter behind. He asked if there was somewhere he could store it and I said, 'yes, under the stair-well.' It's out the way and no problem to anyone.
But, and as I say there is always a but, standing next to me was a minor lay-official from the cathedral who snapped at me, 'no he can't.' This official has his nose stuck so far up his own back-side he loves the smell of his own shit.
'Why I asked? It's not a problems!'
'It's the rules' he snapped again at me.
I said jokingly that rules are made to be broken and he snapped back at me again. If he was around when Jesus Christ was alive healing the crippled, and the lame, he would have snapped at him too for helping the poor, the sick, and the defenceless.
Now I'm quite a forgiving person but some people just get up your nose, and at that point I just wanted to punch his one. I've never heard such clap-trap before because people are always leaving things safely secured under the stairs, but this petty job's worth decided differently. So I just shrugged my shoulders moved away and got on with my life.
Never mind because as an author you need to take features from people you meet in day to day life for both good, and bad characters, and this is what you need to do if you come across such petty job's worth. As I'm now writing the manuscript to Doom A Daniel Jones story if I need a couple of arseholes to use in it I know just the two people to base them on.
Regards
Mark King
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Every now and then we meet people who just get up your nose. The type of people who are no-bodies, but because they have a job title they think they might be somebody, although they can't make a choice in life without hiding behind somebody else, or some made up rule.
The type of people who seem to have no other purpose in life other than to just live, and can't or won't do something because it's more than their job is worth to do it. The type of people who are generally called in the U.K; the job's worth.
Now for my other English speaking viewers around the world I presume that where ever you live be it America to Australia then the term, a job's worth means the same as it does in the U.K. For my Chinese, Russian, German, French viewers, and all the other countries where people read my blog I can only presume again you will have the similar name in your mother tongue for somebody who is similar.
Why I'm bringing this subject up is because last week I had the misfortune of bumping into two of these people.
The first was on Tuesday. I had been contacted by the journalist Kathryn Bradley from the Lowestoft Journal www.lowestoftjournal.co.uk who wanted to interview me about my book Frenzy a Daniel Jones story. I was born and bred in Lowestoft and started my working life on the towns fish market when I left school. I completed my apprenticeship as an auctioneer and had a wonderful time selling the daily fish catches from the fishing fleet in the mornings. It was cold work in a noisy and smelly environment with plenty of rough character's, but in the end it all came crashing down when Margaret Thatcher gave away the industry. She signed the EEC common agriculture and fisheries policy. Tens of thousands of people relied on this industry, now there are just a hundred or so.
I was the third generation to have a connection to the market with my Grandfather working as a fisherman on the last steam drifter from the port. Because of this the editor wanted the photographer to take some pictures with me, and my book, on the market and so we arranged to meet there. The only problem was that when we got on site a security guard wouldn't allow the pictures to be taken because as he said, 'it's more than my job is worth.' So we got on the phone to his boss who again passed us on to someone else, who again passed us on. After half an hour and five different people we gave up, and went to Nest Point the most easterly place in Great Britain, then took the pictures there. It only took five minutes and the job was done.
The second occasion was last Thursday at Norwich Cathedral. I volunteer for a few hours every week as a greeter in the hostery at the Cathedral www.cathedral.org.co. I like to get out and meet other people and I greet the visitors at the entrance, point them in the right direction, answer any questions as best I can, and give relevant information. Well on this day a man turned up on a mobility scooter for a tour of the cathedral, but wanted to walk on the tour so leaving his scooter behind. He asked if there was somewhere he could store it and I said, 'yes, under the stair-well.' It's out the way and no problem to anyone.
But, and as I say there is always a but, standing next to me was a minor lay-official from the cathedral who snapped at me, 'no he can't.' This official has his nose stuck so far up his own back-side he loves the smell of his own shit.
'Why I asked? It's not a problems!'
'It's the rules' he snapped again at me.
I said jokingly that rules are made to be broken and he snapped back at me again. If he was around when Jesus Christ was alive healing the crippled, and the lame, he would have snapped at him too for helping the poor, the sick, and the defenceless.
Now I'm quite a forgiving person but some people just get up your nose, and at that point I just wanted to punch his one. I've never heard such clap-trap before because people are always leaving things safely secured under the stairs, but this petty job's worth decided differently. So I just shrugged my shoulders moved away and got on with my life.
Never mind because as an author you need to take features from people you meet in day to day life for both good, and bad characters, and this is what you need to do if you come across such petty job's worth. As I'm now writing the manuscript to Doom A Daniel Jones story if I need a couple of arseholes to use in it I know just the two people to base them on.
Regards
Mark King
Tuesday 22 October 2013
Bring on the rain.
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones Story by Mark King.
I woke up on Monday morning feeling tired. I slummed on the sofa with a mug of coffee hoping it's caffeine would wake me up. I turned on the television and watched as the weather girl dampened my worn out spirit even further with the news that all I could expect all week was five days of continuous rain.
My mother and step-father had stayed over on Saturday night with the wine, and beer, flowing freely and when they left on Sunday my liver was struggling after three enjoyable days of wining, dining, and merriment. So by Monday morning my well intentioned plan to be in the gym by 7am had gone the same way as the Sunday roast I had cooked, and consumed the day before; down the toilet.
I tried to kid myself that I would go later in the day, but as the rain started to lash against the house I settled myself on the sofa with my laptop on my knees, and called up the manuscript for DOOM a Daniel Jones story the sequel to Frenzy.
For some reason my time recently has been taken from me like a lolly pop from a child, I just don't know what happened to it; but I do know one thing, and that's I haven't spent near enough time on DOOM a Daniel Jones story. The first royalties for Frenzy have distracted my direction of thought, and to carry on the success of Frenzy I need to keep on writing.
You can be a good writer but to be a successful writer you need to publish as many books as possible. If you look at some of the best known authors you will see that they have been published many times.
So the conditions on Monday were perfect for writing. There were no distractions for me and I didn't want to go far so when I started to write I couldn't stop, and I was still writing at nine in the evening, sitting in the same spot on the sofa while the wife sat at the other end watching her usual fare of Monday night television soaps in Eastenders and Coronation Street. For my viewers in America, or China, or Russia, or anywhere else around the world. I don't know if you get these programmes in your relevant countries, maybe on some obscure cable channel? But if you do I can tell you for me there is no better reason to write if all you have to look forward are these mind numbing soaps
So while most people will be looking out of the window when they wake up this week feeling down in the dumps because it's raining; I'm quite looking forward to it because deep down I do love writing as well as reading, and I know this week there will be none of the distractions that come with a glorious sunny day when the sky's are blue, and there is only the odd whiff of a puffy white cloud floating silently above.
Of course that's what I would to think is going to happen, just a week of writing and reading, but as I say, there is always a but. When you work form home the dear wife will always have a long list of choirs to do, and it's no different this week because once this blog has been posted I will have to load up the car with boxes full glass bottles, and other items, then slog my way to the recycling centre, and stand there in the poring rain as I place each individual item into the relevant bins, green and brown glass in the right bin, clear glass in another etc.
The list will go on and on so while the dear wife is on the school run I better get writing.
Regards
Mark King.
www.the frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones Story by Mark King.
I woke up on Monday morning feeling tired. I slummed on the sofa with a mug of coffee hoping it's caffeine would wake me up. I turned on the television and watched as the weather girl dampened my worn out spirit even further with the news that all I could expect all week was five days of continuous rain.
My mother and step-father had stayed over on Saturday night with the wine, and beer, flowing freely and when they left on Sunday my liver was struggling after three enjoyable days of wining, dining, and merriment. So by Monday morning my well intentioned plan to be in the gym by 7am had gone the same way as the Sunday roast I had cooked, and consumed the day before; down the toilet.
I tried to kid myself that I would go later in the day, but as the rain started to lash against the house I settled myself on the sofa with my laptop on my knees, and called up the manuscript for DOOM a Daniel Jones story the sequel to Frenzy.
For some reason my time recently has been taken from me like a lolly pop from a child, I just don't know what happened to it; but I do know one thing, and that's I haven't spent near enough time on DOOM a Daniel Jones story. The first royalties for Frenzy have distracted my direction of thought, and to carry on the success of Frenzy I need to keep on writing.
You can be a good writer but to be a successful writer you need to publish as many books as possible. If you look at some of the best known authors you will see that they have been published many times.
So the conditions on Monday were perfect for writing. There were no distractions for me and I didn't want to go far so when I started to write I couldn't stop, and I was still writing at nine in the evening, sitting in the same spot on the sofa while the wife sat at the other end watching her usual fare of Monday night television soaps in Eastenders and Coronation Street. For my viewers in America, or China, or Russia, or anywhere else around the world. I don't know if you get these programmes in your relevant countries, maybe on some obscure cable channel? But if you do I can tell you for me there is no better reason to write if all you have to look forward are these mind numbing soaps
So while most people will be looking out of the window when they wake up this week feeling down in the dumps because it's raining; I'm quite looking forward to it because deep down I do love writing as well as reading, and I know this week there will be none of the distractions that come with a glorious sunny day when the sky's are blue, and there is only the odd whiff of a puffy white cloud floating silently above.
Of course that's what I would to think is going to happen, just a week of writing and reading, but as I say, there is always a but. When you work form home the dear wife will always have a long list of choirs to do, and it's no different this week because once this blog has been posted I will have to load up the car with boxes full glass bottles, and other items, then slog my way to the recycling centre, and stand there in the poring rain as I place each individual item into the relevant bins, green and brown glass in the right bin, clear glass in another etc.
The list will go on and on so while the dear wife is on the school run I better get writing.
Regards
Mark King.
Saturday 19 October 2013
Enjoy your life.
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.booklet.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
The beginning of the week started well. I have finally managed to bring my dispute with Dulux paints to a final conclusion, and we got some compensation for the year of hassle we went through as we stood our ground. It wasn't so much the money in the end but the principle of seeking fair justice in our dispute which counted.
I also got a phone call from a journalist who wanted to interview me about my book FRENZY a Daniel Jones story, and to take some pictures.
One of the draw backs now that we have settled with Dulux is that we can go a head and repaint our doors, and while we are at it also my daughter's bedroom. Now there are things I enjoy doing in life and things I don't, and decorating defiantly falls into the latter.
The weather also started to improve.
My daughter has been away for three nights on a school trip and my son stayed around his grandparents on Thursday so me and the good wife had one of those rare luxuries in a family, and that's a night together without the children.
As the saying goes, 'when the cat's are away the mice will play' and boy did we have some fun.
I have received my first royalties for FRENZY a Daniel Jones story and treated the dear wife to a night out. We got a taxi into the city centre and went for a drink, or two, before finishing off in a Spanish tapas restaurant.
It was a good week, the type of week that makes all the hard work worth it.
I always say 'life is hard, but someone has to enjoy it,' and I try my best to be one of these people. There's plenty of grumpy people about and if it makes them happy being grumpy then that's their choice.
So I'm carrying on with the rest of week as I started it, and where ever you live around the world enjoy your life, and don't let the grumpy people get the better of you.
Regards
Mark
www.the-frenzy.com
www.booklet.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
The beginning of the week started well. I have finally managed to bring my dispute with Dulux paints to a final conclusion, and we got some compensation for the year of hassle we went through as we stood our ground. It wasn't so much the money in the end but the principle of seeking fair justice in our dispute which counted.
I also got a phone call from a journalist who wanted to interview me about my book FRENZY a Daniel Jones story, and to take some pictures.
One of the draw backs now that we have settled with Dulux is that we can go a head and repaint our doors, and while we are at it also my daughter's bedroom. Now there are things I enjoy doing in life and things I don't, and decorating defiantly falls into the latter.
The weather also started to improve.
My daughter has been away for three nights on a school trip and my son stayed around his grandparents on Thursday so me and the good wife had one of those rare luxuries in a family, and that's a night together without the children.
As the saying goes, 'when the cat's are away the mice will play' and boy did we have some fun.
I have received my first royalties for FRENZY a Daniel Jones story and treated the dear wife to a night out. We got a taxi into the city centre and went for a drink, or two, before finishing off in a Spanish tapas restaurant.
It was a good week, the type of week that makes all the hard work worth it.
I always say 'life is hard, but someone has to enjoy it,' and I try my best to be one of these people. There's plenty of grumpy people about and if it makes them happy being grumpy then that's their choice.
So I'm carrying on with the rest of week as I started it, and where ever you live around the world enjoy your life, and don't let the grumpy people get the better of you.
Regards
Mark
Tuesday 15 October 2013
Winter has arrived
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Winter has now arrived in the U.K. After one of the best summers we have experienced in the last few years; well when I say best summers I mean by the standards we are used to this country. On occasions it was almost like being in the Mediterranean with endless days of glorious blue sky's and hot weather.
We British are famous for always talking about the weather, but compared to most parts of the world we have it quite easy here. Places like the Gulf of Mexico especially around the south east cost of America get hit with hurricanes and then there are the typhoons that devastate the coastal areas of Asia from China to India. These places experience floods on a biblical scale.
You can then go to the other extreme to the parts of the world where they have little or no rain and people have to scratch around the dirt just to survive. Even great modernised countries like America, Russia, Australia, and China can suffer from droughts that ruin the lives of the farmers who rely on the coming of the rains to feed their crops.
In the U.K we consider it a drought if we aren't allowed to use the water-sprinkler on our lawns. Then people accuse the water companies of taking too much profit, and not investing enough in the water system while at the same time blaming the government for letting these companies getaway with it.
In the U.K it's the same when the rolls are reversed with too much water and there is flooding with the same people complaining about not enough money being spent on flood defences. Now the flooding we normally have here is about ankle deep and hangs around for twenty four hours before it drains away, nothing like the flooding you had in New Orleans the other year or which certain countries in Asia have to suffer year after year when they can be under water for weeks.
So winter has arrived in the U.K, we have had four days of showers and on Sunday it rained all day. So what did we do? Well the wife took the children bowling with some friends while I stayed at home cooking a lovely English Sunday roast with pork (and crackling), stuffing, roast potatoes, cauliflower cheese, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and carrots, plus cabbage and smashed swede, and to top it all off lashings of gravy as normal.
I cooked enough so there would be plenty of food left over to make bubble and squeak for the family' s Monday evening meal, and while I prepared the food with the radio on, and a steady supply of strong English cider in hand, I took the occasional glance through the rain lashed windows and thanked God that all we have to moan about in my part of the world is the changeable weather.
Regards
Mark
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Winter has now arrived in the U.K. After one of the best summers we have experienced in the last few years; well when I say best summers I mean by the standards we are used to this country. On occasions it was almost like being in the Mediterranean with endless days of glorious blue sky's and hot weather.
We British are famous for always talking about the weather, but compared to most parts of the world we have it quite easy here. Places like the Gulf of Mexico especially around the south east cost of America get hit with hurricanes and then there are the typhoons that devastate the coastal areas of Asia from China to India. These places experience floods on a biblical scale.
You can then go to the other extreme to the parts of the world where they have little or no rain and people have to scratch around the dirt just to survive. Even great modernised countries like America, Russia, Australia, and China can suffer from droughts that ruin the lives of the farmers who rely on the coming of the rains to feed their crops.
In the U.K we consider it a drought if we aren't allowed to use the water-sprinkler on our lawns. Then people accuse the water companies of taking too much profit, and not investing enough in the water system while at the same time blaming the government for letting these companies getaway with it.
In the U.K it's the same when the rolls are reversed with too much water and there is flooding with the same people complaining about not enough money being spent on flood defences. Now the flooding we normally have here is about ankle deep and hangs around for twenty four hours before it drains away, nothing like the flooding you had in New Orleans the other year or which certain countries in Asia have to suffer year after year when they can be under water for weeks.
So winter has arrived in the U.K, we have had four days of showers and on Sunday it rained all day. So what did we do? Well the wife took the children bowling with some friends while I stayed at home cooking a lovely English Sunday roast with pork (and crackling), stuffing, roast potatoes, cauliflower cheese, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and carrots, plus cabbage and smashed swede, and to top it all off lashings of gravy as normal.
I cooked enough so there would be plenty of food left over to make bubble and squeak for the family' s Monday evening meal, and while I prepared the food with the radio on, and a steady supply of strong English cider in hand, I took the occasional glance through the rain lashed windows and thanked God that all we have to moan about in my part of the world is the changeable weather.
Regards
Mark
Friday 11 October 2013
All paid up
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Well I pleased to announce that there are still people and times were a hand-shake means trust and honesty.
For regular readers you will know that last Saturday my car was hit from behind and damage caused to the bumper. An agreement was made over a hand-shake and on Wednesday Evening the guilty party arrived at my home with payment in hand to cover the repairs. I gave him a signed letter in exchange as a receipt which stated this was the end of the matter.
No Insurance companies, no lawyers, no middle men, no garages, just a mobile repair man who will spend an afternoon on my drive way while I keep him supplied with mugs of tea as he works his magic on the family car.
If only most things in this modern world could be so easy, uncomplicated, and carried out in a manner of good will!
Just think what a different world we could all be living in now?
People happily keeping themselves to themselves not forcing their views on anyone who doesn't want to listen, and if their lives bump into each other for what ever reason then both parties would treat each other in an honest, and respectful manner, sealed with a bond over a hand-shake.
Unfortunately there are too many people in this world who will use any opportunity to feed off some ones misfortune for their own greed, or push their personal view point, be it in politics, religion, business or personal life, and a hand shake is no guarantee of honesty.
It's easy for all of us to ask why can't everyone live a positive life without lies or deceit, but a lot harder to admit that you lie to yourself all the time. As an example as it's now the weekend I know for a fact that I will wake up either on Saturday or Sunday morning with a stinking hanger over, and will then say to myself, 'that's the last I am going to drink so much alcohol!'
I know for a fact that will be a lie.
Regards
Mark
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
Well I pleased to announce that there are still people and times were a hand-shake means trust and honesty.
For regular readers you will know that last Saturday my car was hit from behind and damage caused to the bumper. An agreement was made over a hand-shake and on Wednesday Evening the guilty party arrived at my home with payment in hand to cover the repairs. I gave him a signed letter in exchange as a receipt which stated this was the end of the matter.
No Insurance companies, no lawyers, no middle men, no garages, just a mobile repair man who will spend an afternoon on my drive way while I keep him supplied with mugs of tea as he works his magic on the family car.
If only most things in this modern world could be so easy, uncomplicated, and carried out in a manner of good will!
Just think what a different world we could all be living in now?
People happily keeping themselves to themselves not forcing their views on anyone who doesn't want to listen, and if their lives bump into each other for what ever reason then both parties would treat each other in an honest, and respectful manner, sealed with a bond over a hand-shake.
Unfortunately there are too many people in this world who will use any opportunity to feed off some ones misfortune for their own greed, or push their personal view point, be it in politics, religion, business or personal life, and a hand shake is no guarantee of honesty.
It's easy for all of us to ask why can't everyone live a positive life without lies or deceit, but a lot harder to admit that you lie to yourself all the time. As an example as it's now the weekend I know for a fact that I will wake up either on Saturday or Sunday morning with a stinking hanger over, and will then say to myself, 'that's the last I am going to drink so much alcohol!'
I know for a fact that will be a lie.
Regards
Mark
Tuesday 8 October 2013
The Car Crash
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
On Saturday afternoon I was driving with all the family in the car. We were travelling to see my parents and as I approached a roundabout I put the brakes on and came to a stop. The only problem was the car behind failed to do either and went up my back-side. Well not my back-side but the car's rear end.
I heard the screech of the tyres, and then a shudder, as car hit car, and then a loud crunch. So there we were on the edge of the round-about blocking half the road, but it didn't seem to stop, or slow down, other drivers who carried on with their journey.
My daughter went into a frenzy and started to cry, but my son was fast asleep and no car accident was going to wake him up.
The other driver got out of his car at the same time as me with his hands in the air saying, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's all my fault.'
We inspected the rear bumper and it was manly damage to the paint work, and number plate. There was no damage to his car. It was agreed that we wouldn't involve the insurance companies and he would pay for the repair to the paint work. We swapped details and then went our merry way.
When we arrived at my parents my son woke up non the wiser and after a few stiff drinks, and a Chinese meal we had delivered, I had forgotten all about the incident until as the wife was driving back home we passed the same spot.
On Monday morning I got a quote for the repair and in the afternoon the man phoned me up to find out the cost. He seemed happy and has even offered to drive over to me, and pay in full.
So far so good, it took just a couple of days to sort it out sealed with a hand shake. I only wish the customer services department at Dulux paints could have been so easy two years after we bought their faulty product.
He has arranged to drop the payment off at my house on Wednesday evening and soon after the repair worked will be complete. So by Friday's posting the whole affair should be over. I hope!
Regards
Mark
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King
On Saturday afternoon I was driving with all the family in the car. We were travelling to see my parents and as I approached a roundabout I put the brakes on and came to a stop. The only problem was the car behind failed to do either and went up my back-side. Well not my back-side but the car's rear end.
I heard the screech of the tyres, and then a shudder, as car hit car, and then a loud crunch. So there we were on the edge of the round-about blocking half the road, but it didn't seem to stop, or slow down, other drivers who carried on with their journey.
My daughter went into a frenzy and started to cry, but my son was fast asleep and no car accident was going to wake him up.
The other driver got out of his car at the same time as me with his hands in the air saying, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's all my fault.'
We inspected the rear bumper and it was manly damage to the paint work, and number plate. There was no damage to his car. It was agreed that we wouldn't involve the insurance companies and he would pay for the repair to the paint work. We swapped details and then went our merry way.
When we arrived at my parents my son woke up non the wiser and after a few stiff drinks, and a Chinese meal we had delivered, I had forgotten all about the incident until as the wife was driving back home we passed the same spot.
On Monday morning I got a quote for the repair and in the afternoon the man phoned me up to find out the cost. He seemed happy and has even offered to drive over to me, and pay in full.
So far so good, it took just a couple of days to sort it out sealed with a hand shake. I only wish the customer services department at Dulux paints could have been so easy two years after we bought their faulty product.
He has arranged to drop the payment off at my house on Wednesday evening and soon after the repair worked will be complete. So by Friday's posting the whole affair should be over. I hope!
Regards
Mark
Friday 4 October 2013
I smell gas
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King.
The other day I awoke in the morning and walked down the stairs still half asleep. When I stepped off the bottom step I thought I could smell gas. I walked into the kitchen sniffing the air.
Now in our part of the world you can get the odd funny smell wafting in from the fields that edge around where I live, but when my little boy said he could smelly eggs I decided to call out the gas board.
There is a national free phone number to use for emergency call outs if you can smell gas, but as there is always a double standard with most businesses these days you have to pay for the call if you use the mobile phone!
I followed the instructions given by the chap on the phone and turned off the gas from the box outside, then opened all the windows and told the family not to turn on any electrical switch's.
Anyway within the hour a friendly man arrived from the company who look after the national gas system with his little machine which could sniff out any gas. He walked from room to room and then checked the outside box.
Walking back into the kitchen the man said we had low gas pressure then walked over to the cooker and said, 'here is your problem.' He pointed at the cooker hob and turned off one of the nob's.
The wife and I looked at each other, blushing, and she immediately blamed me.
The previous day I had cooked a lovely traditional Sunday dinner with roast chicken, roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, cabbage, stuffing and various other vegetables, plus lashing of gravy. As the gas man then pointed out that if I had left one of the rings on it would still be burning so the most likely course of the problem was coursed when the cooker was cleaned.
So it was the wife's fault, but I still took the blame anyway because sometimes all we want is an easy life.
I could have taken this view with Dulux Paints, but with them I have decided not to take the blame for their mistake and to fight all the way with this big international company.
Regards
Mark
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King.
The other day I awoke in the morning and walked down the stairs still half asleep. When I stepped off the bottom step I thought I could smell gas. I walked into the kitchen sniffing the air.
Now in our part of the world you can get the odd funny smell wafting in from the fields that edge around where I live, but when my little boy said he could smelly eggs I decided to call out the gas board.
There is a national free phone number to use for emergency call outs if you can smell gas, but as there is always a double standard with most businesses these days you have to pay for the call if you use the mobile phone!
I followed the instructions given by the chap on the phone and turned off the gas from the box outside, then opened all the windows and told the family not to turn on any electrical switch's.
Anyway within the hour a friendly man arrived from the company who look after the national gas system with his little machine which could sniff out any gas. He walked from room to room and then checked the outside box.
Walking back into the kitchen the man said we had low gas pressure then walked over to the cooker and said, 'here is your problem.' He pointed at the cooker hob and turned off one of the nob's.
The wife and I looked at each other, blushing, and she immediately blamed me.
The previous day I had cooked a lovely traditional Sunday dinner with roast chicken, roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, cabbage, stuffing and various other vegetables, plus lashing of gravy. As the gas man then pointed out that if I had left one of the rings on it would still be burning so the most likely course of the problem was coursed when the cooker was cleaned.
So it was the wife's fault, but I still took the blame anyway because sometimes all we want is an easy life.
I could have taken this view with Dulux Paints, but with them I have decided not to take the blame for their mistake and to fight all the way with this big international company.
Regards
Mark
Tuesday 1 October 2013
Turkish Delight
markkingtheauthor@gmail.com
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King.
I have been in a frenzy over the last four days going through two years of paper-work trying to gather as much evidence in my quest to gain justice from Dulux paints after their faulty product caused our internal doors to fade. They have pushed us from pillow to post. We have the original tin of a paint plus the faded doors, but this isn't good enough for them!
Never mind I did get some good news that cheered up my weekend. The rights to translate my book FRENZY into Turkish have been bought by a publisher in Istanbul. There are 100 million people around the world who speak this language, and now they can read themselves into a frenzy with my book. So another country to add to the list where FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King is on sale.
I found out late on Friday about the successful completion for the Turkish deal after I returned from my Friday morning voluntary work. I also had a wedding to organise at the Parish Church, and with other things that need doing in the day to day running of family life it was wonderful to open the letter when I got home. With all that was going on it was quite late until I had written, and then posted my Friday blog. It can be hard getting my Friday blog out and I'm tempted to post it on Saturday morning instead, But, and as I say there is always a but, it all depends on you want.
So please feel free to give me your views at markkingtheauthor@gmail.com and I will see how it goes. Just going back to my last posting I finally got my money from Barclay's bank, but double standards go on as I encountered the other day.
I had to pop into the city centre for half an hour and parked on a street where there are parking charges paid for at the on-street parking meters'. The thing is they don't give change and with the fee set at forty pence per fifteen minutes the cost for my half hour of parking was eighty pence, but I only had pound coins in my pocket. So the local council made an extra twenty pence out of me. Now I once worked in the car park industry, and I know for a fact that all pay and display machines can give change, and when they don't it's a deliberate con to get more money out of the general public.
Could you image the uproar there would be if you went into a supermarket bought eight pounds worth of goods, handed over a ten pound note, and then the till operator refused to give you any change?
It's the same principle but the double standard is that the council on the one hand want you to pay all your local tax's due in full, and on time, and to be a good citizen by leading a clean, and honest life while at the same time they are stealing my twenty pence.
So there is Dulux, then Barclay's Bank and now Norwich City council to add to the list of organisations and no doubt there are plenty more to add.
Regards
Mark.
www.the-frenzy.com
www.bookguild.co.uk
twitter@author_king
FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King.
I have been in a frenzy over the last four days going through two years of paper-work trying to gather as much evidence in my quest to gain justice from Dulux paints after their faulty product caused our internal doors to fade. They have pushed us from pillow to post. We have the original tin of a paint plus the faded doors, but this isn't good enough for them!
Never mind I did get some good news that cheered up my weekend. The rights to translate my book FRENZY into Turkish have been bought by a publisher in Istanbul. There are 100 million people around the world who speak this language, and now they can read themselves into a frenzy with my book. So another country to add to the list where FRENZY a Daniel Jones story by Mark King is on sale.
I found out late on Friday about the successful completion for the Turkish deal after I returned from my Friday morning voluntary work. I also had a wedding to organise at the Parish Church, and with other things that need doing in the day to day running of family life it was wonderful to open the letter when I got home. With all that was going on it was quite late until I had written, and then posted my Friday blog. It can be hard getting my Friday blog out and I'm tempted to post it on Saturday morning instead, But, and as I say there is always a but, it all depends on you want.
So please feel free to give me your views at markkingtheauthor@gmail.com and I will see how it goes. Just going back to my last posting I finally got my money from Barclay's bank, but double standards go on as I encountered the other day.
I had to pop into the city centre for half an hour and parked on a street where there are parking charges paid for at the on-street parking meters'. The thing is they don't give change and with the fee set at forty pence per fifteen minutes the cost for my half hour of parking was eighty pence, but I only had pound coins in my pocket. So the local council made an extra twenty pence out of me. Now I once worked in the car park industry, and I know for a fact that all pay and display machines can give change, and when they don't it's a deliberate con to get more money out of the general public.
Could you image the uproar there would be if you went into a supermarket bought eight pounds worth of goods, handed over a ten pound note, and then the till operator refused to give you any change?
It's the same principle but the double standard is that the council on the one hand want you to pay all your local tax's due in full, and on time, and to be a good citizen by leading a clean, and honest life while at the same time they are stealing my twenty pence.
So there is Dulux, then Barclay's Bank and now Norwich City council to add to the list of organisations and no doubt there are plenty more to add.
Regards
Mark.
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