How far would you go to meet Wills & Kate?

How far would you go to see Prince William and Kate Middleton?

I know how far I would go. 230 miles exactly according to Google Maps.

I know this because a few weeks ago I was invited to the opening of a school in Darwen. Being very busy I wasn't sure I would be able to go but when I was told that William and Kate would be opening the school I polished my shoes and the top of my head and set off to see them. This was, after all, their final pre-wedding engagement and therefore the closest I would get to the Royal Wedding.

Given that I am willing to jump on a train and travel 230 miles to look at William and Kate at very close quarters I have concluded that I am a die-hard Royalist or possibly a Loyalist. I thought I might be a Cavalier but having searched the web to check what it means I'm not so sure any more.

In fact I am collecting Royals. So far I have ticked off Prince William, Prince Edward, Prince Andrew and Princess Anne. I need to get Prince Charles and the Queen to get a full set. Then I get a special Royalist Stalker prize.

My favourite film

Recently I was involved in a "get to know each other" exercise with a new team. We each had to fill in a form answering some questions and then we had to guess which set of answers belonged to which person.

After the event I reflected on my answers and wonder what impression the other folk made of me based on my answers. What do you think?

WHAT IS THE FIRST EVER DOWNLOAD/CD/TAPE/RECORD YOU BOUGHT?

Ballroom Blitz by Sweet. I'm a glam rock child of early 70's London. I knew all the words to this song.

FAVOURITE SONG?

That's pretty obvious. Mr Bojangles by Sammy Davis Jr.

FAVOURITE HOBBY?

I don't really have hobbies. I read, watch a few films, watch lots of rugby but my main hobby is Tai Chi.

FAVOURITE DISH?

Sausage and mash. I wish I didn't have to keep going out to posh meals. I also accept pie and mash.

FAVOURITE FILM?

Has to be the one and only Bladerunner. "I've...seen...things". What a scene. What a film.

FAVOURITE TRAVEL DESTINATION?

So many places. So many choices. But I went with San Francisco. I just like the city and get a bit excited whenever I have a reason to visit.

WORST EVER FASHION FAUX PAS?

Well, I used to have a bright white suit that I used to wear with a purple shirt and purple shoes. I also had a purple suit that I wore with a white shirt and white shoes. Both combinations with afro and dark glasses of course. Thankfully pre-digital camera days so I don't think there are any photos out there. But this was in the 70's so I think I was actually very cool at the time.

So I have to go with the time I went out wearing brown corduroy trousers and a brown corduroy jacket. Top to toe cords. It wasn't my finest fashion moment.

THREE WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOU

1) Wierd

2) Passionate

3) Loyal

(I asked my wife and son what three words best described me and they both said "wierd" without even thinking about it!)

THREE THINGS ABOUT YOU. TWO ARE TRUE, ONE IS NOT. GUESS THE FALSE ONE

a) I once played James Bond in a film

b) I once played rugby on national TV

c) I met Prince William and Katherine

I think its fair to say that after reading these answers you pretty much know everything there is to know about me!

School report: Could do better.

I attended Parents Evening at my son's school last week. Like many fathers of young teenage boys, one approaches these things with a degree of caution. And sure enough, teacher after teacher leant back in their chair with the words "Ahhhhh, so you are his Dad. Right, let's see..."

The general conculsion was that he is a "teenage boy".

When I got home, I sat the lad down and droned on for an hour in a fatherly way about the need to focus, work hard etc. Then I decided to impress him by showing him my school report from when I was exactly the same age.

That's where it all started to go wrong.

Or possibly that's where it all started to go right.

It turns out I was also a "teenage boy". In fact when I read parts my report my wife could hardly tell which was mine and which was my son's.

So, to give hope to all you teenage boys out there (not that you actually bother reading at all at this stage) here is the report of a 13 year old boy who went on to get several degrees, build several companies, become a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, present alongside Bill Gates, be invited to attend Davos and do one or two decent things (I think) in education. So, parents, have hope. If your son's report looks anything like mine, all is not lost.

English: 66% Thomas works well with enthusiasm and intelligence. He is always willing to take place in class discussions

(where is my classic story about the potato? A masterpiece.)

Maths: 56% Tom works very hard when the work interests him. If he concentrated on the harder parts he could do better.

(I loved maths and loved the maths teacher. Made me feel special. Best teacher of my life. Wish I could remember her name)

Science: 31% Tom is a very capable lad but he is a great source of distraction to others and resents rebuke very strongly and spends a lot of lesson time sulking. A pity

(How ironic. I was actually always fascinated by science and went on on to get a degree in Applied Physics. But I really didn't get on with that science master. It was war every day.)

History: 61% Shows interest. Good project work.

Geography: 67% Work standard generally but not always good.

French: Grade A. A vast improvement since last year. 4th in group

(The result, I'm afraid, of a pretty French teacher replacing the old bloke we had the year before. Sorry. I was a teenage boy.)

Physical Education: Grade B. Unfortunately a change in Tom's attitude has retarded his progress. He continues to be an outstanding all round sportsman.

(Readers, please note: "Outstanding all round sportsman" :) But did he just say "retarded"? Can you write that in school reports??)

Music: Grade C. A capable but moody individual. Effort very variable

Drama: Thomas is very good in this subject, particularly where there is any movement involved.

(I am very proud of having been "Young Johnny Jones" in the school play. Although I didn't like it when they made me "black up". I refused to go on stage.)

Art: Grade A-. Has talent in this subject

(Hold on, capable in music, very good in drama, talent in art. Why did I end up as a computer geek?)

Metal work: Grade B. Has shown keeness and above average ability in this subject

(Do they still do metal work? We made some dangerous implements in that class, some of which were put to work in the playground...)

Form Teacher Summary: Thomas works well and in general has improved. But if he causes distraction to other in the class his work will suffer in the end. He must learn to concentrate a little harder and put maximum effort into his work.

(Improved! Gosh, I must have been really bad the year before)

Section Head Summary: Good work standard but I am concerned about his immature behaviour which is distracting others from working in some subjects. CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE IN SCIENCE!

So there you have it, warts and all. And calm down about the science - I did change my attitude! To be honest, most of the work was trivially easy so I felt my main duty at school was to make the lives of anyone who sat near me as entertaining as possible. I hope life worked out for the poor souls who sat next to me (sorry guys, wherever you are !)

Mind you, this is all an improvement on my report aged 7 from primary school which included the legendary phrase "Can be rather slyly naughty". Moi? Never!

A little haiku

Shaken from slumber

Screams fury at her children.

Cold blanket brings sleep

Do you have a mentor?

Mentoring is on my mind at the moment. I have just been invited to be guest speaker at an awards event for a national mentoring scheme, and I sometimes get asked whether I will be a mentor myself. I am also trying to help organise a mentoring programme for students at the new Academy that I chair.

I have never really had a mentor as such, not in a formal sense, and I feel I suffered from lack of a mentor at times, particularly early in my career. But I think in a way I have always had informal mentors. Individuals who I have looked up to, listened to, watched and learnt from. A nudge here. An eyebrow raised there. It all adds up to a mentoring relationship.

Personally I am not a great formal mentor. The formalised process of meeting regularly to listen and dispense advice doesn't fit with me personally and I really admire people who are able to give of themselves in this way. I would feel under such pressure in that situation to say something profound and meaningful that the responsibility would be too much. Or I would say something that sounds like common sense to me, the mentee takes it as if it was a blinding insight and then I would feel like a fake who is only inches away from being found out.

But I think I am quite a good informal mentor, if you can call it that. I am always happy to have one-off, ad hoc meetings with people, over a cup of coffee, to listen and share my experience. I try not to say what the other person "should" do (I hate "should's"). I try to give him or her another perspective to add to the various perspectives that they have already. I invite them to use whatever they find useful and cast aside the rest. If they use none of what I've said but my input helps them get clear that the choice they were going to make anyway is definitely the right one for them, then that's fine with me too.

I think the worst kind of mentor is the one who is very directional. You "should" do this. You "must" go that way. Or the mentor who pretends to be impartial and open but is actually quite manipulative and guides the mentee in the direction that they "should" go, deriving feelings of satisfaction out of their subtle skills. I have certainly encountered (and suffered at the hands of) that type of person before I woke up to what was going on.

The advice I tend to give to young people when approaching someone about being a mentor is not to start by going straight for the jugular. Finding a good mentor is like Big Game Hunting. The person you are approaching is busy (probably) and gets asked a lot to be a mentor (probably) and generally graciously declines (probably).

So you have a sales job to do - AIDA - awareness, interest, desire, action. Does your targer mentor know you exist? If you pop up from nowhere with an email and say "hi, I am no-one you have ever heard of but please mentor me" then you will be lucky if you even get a response. Target-mentor has to know you exist first.

Then, what is is about you that Target would be interested in? What have you done that's relevant to their life? Have you done anything useful for the Target, or do you just want to take from them? I operate on the 3:1 rule. I must do three useful things for you before asking you to do one useful thing for me. Is Target interested in you?

Only then start to create some desire in Target for the idea that he might want to assist you. Has Target watched your development? Does Target feel part of your journey? Are you at a stage where you could do with a bit of help and Target feels like they want to help because they have a stake in your success?

Now you can move to action. Only ever ask Target for a quick coffee, never to "be my mentor". Target hates commitment. Target likes to help. So ask for 30 mins for a coffee so that you can bounce a fe thoughts off them and get some input. Don't ask for a long term mentoring relationship. If you have a good first coffee (and by the way, in that meeting, do you do something, anything useful for Target or did you jsut take from them?) then Target might say "if you fancy catching up again at some stage, let me know". When Target says that, don't whip your diary out and schedule six more two hour sessions. Casually say "sure that would be great, I'll get in touch". Then leave it two weeks (don't be a stalker and email the same evening!) and suggest a date for a coffee in 3 months time.

Remember, you are never too old or senior to have a mentor. But the same rules apply. It is a drain on the mentor to mentor you, and they want flexibility so you take your time and build a relationship.

In fact all that talk of mentors makes me feel like I want one! Right, time to identify a Target and go hunting. I wonder if they'll spot me coming.

Is Rastamouse the new Gollywog?

Have you heard of Rastamouse? Neither had I. Until I heard that a friend of mine had called in to a phone-in radio show to complain about this cartoon character and many others had written to the BBC asking for it to be taken off air. Not to mention the middle class mums on networking sites debating the dangers or otherwise of the dreaded Rastamouse.

Rastamouse is a cool, black mouse dude, dripping with stereotypes, who apparently is very popular with the under fives on CBBC. He is a laid back rastafarian mouse detective who speaks in patios, loves his "cheese" (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) and has a bunch of cool black stereotypical mouse friends. Where's the harm in that and why are people gettng so hot under the collar about dear old cool, black stereotypical rastamouse (after all are we black people not all cool, laid back stereotypical fellows? In fact some of my best friends are cool, black and stereotypical. I'm not racist).

I think what is happening is that black people of a certain age (i.e. my age) are wincing at the playground experience that must surely follow from the widespread popularity of Rastamouse. Whenever you get a new, cool black character on TV (or a white character pretending to be a black character) then as sure as night follows day you will get white kids in playgrounds renaming their black friends accordingly.

In my day it was the friendly old Gollywog. A lovely black character. I even had a gollywog of my very own. I had a gollywog and a wheelbarrow although at the time I used to say I had a "wheelwog and a gollybarrow". I collected gollywog badges with pride. I am still strangely fond of gollywogs, apart from the fact that I have been called Golly, Gollywog, Woggy so many times now that I've kind of gone off the character a bit. Then of course you've got good old Chalky, or Kunta Kinte (who hasn't been called Kunta Kinte eh? You've got to laungh), or the various Lenny Henry characters over the years.

So now a new generation of young black people get to be called Rastamouse until they come to hate the nice little mouse and lodge it away in their subconscious ready to dredge up in a blog post in years to come. And the good folk at the BBC who thought him up (what on earth were they thinking? Did someone say "hmmm, playgrounds are a bit light on racial banter these days. Anyone got any ideas?") don't even realise that they are continuing a long tradition of causing unintended pain to little me as my best friend starts shouting across the playground "hey, little Tommy, hey Wa'gwan Rastamouse? Want some cheese mon? Hahahahah" and everyone, including me, burst into laughter (because you've got to laugh haven't you? It's only a little racial
banter. No big deal. Why is everyone so sensitive about it. I mean, for goodness sake, come on)

Mind you black kids today shouldn't complain. In my day we had proper, high grade Class A racial banter in the playground. Who doesn't remember having 20 kids standing around you in a circle chanting that inspiring song

"Hey Tom

Wogs the matter?

Feeling a bit Browned off?

Didn't have your Coon-flakes?

Nigger mind

Go Black to bed

You'll feel all White in the morning"

Ah, those were the days. The good old Seventies. You've got to laugh. Hahahaha. Wa'gwan, Rastamouse.

Under Pressure

I love the Queen/David Bowie song "Under Pressure" ("dum dum dum diddle dum dum, dum dum dum diddle dum dum" you know the song). There is something about Bowie's strained voice that feels like he is right on the edge of breaking point. That "tears behind the eyes" feeling when stress builds and builds and there is just too much pressure.

Dealing with stress is something that is difficult to learn by yourself and we don't teach it in schools. But perhaps we should, because it is often in schools that young people get their first taste of high stress and that build up of pressure that can overwhelm you. This is particularly the case for those who are doing really well. They generate internal pressure on themselves, they carry the heavy burden of ambitious parents expectations and they feel the eyes of the school and their hard pressed, results hungry teachers on them.

How many A*s will they get? What University will they get in to? Even on the sports side, will they get signed for that all important netball team/rugby club/olympic squad? Why are they only Grade 8 piano? How big is their scholarship? And all they hear from friends, family, teachers is "ooohh you are soooo lucky. I wish I was you. It must be so easy. You've got no problems."

So they smile with glistening eyes, but internally they fret. Their tummy in knots when exam time comes because they might get an awful A instead of an excellent A*. Or only get into a top Russell Group University, one of the best in the world as it happens, instead of getting that all important Oxbridge offer and listen to aunts and uncles say "well done for getting a place at University" but what they hear is "Hah, you didn't get Oxbridge, you failure, you might as well give up now". They say "So and so is much cleverer than me, He/she will do so well" but their friends hear it as false modesty. What they are really saying is "Please give me a break and let me get on with stuff. I'll do the best I can, but please take your expectations off me and let me breath!"

So how do you deal with stress like this? I don't know to be honest otherwise I would have written a self help book, sold millions of copies and be living on my very own private island (probably worrying that it was not as big as the island next door, or that it might sink), but with 30 years of hindsight there are a few things that occur to me.

Think about medium term goals, not about short term tactics. So, don't get hung up on the very next step in front of you, whether that is going to this sixth form or that University. These are important, yes, but they are tactical steps. You should focus on the medium term goal. Create a picture in your mind of you in 5 or 6 year time. Where are you? What are you doing? Are you excited about being there? Are you proud of being there? Then work back from there and shape the five or ten different paths you could have taken to get there. They are all equally valid. You might have a preferred route (or someone might have a prefered route mapped out for you) but that is just one of many. Don't get hung up about it. By all means go for it flat out with everything you've got but if it doesn't come off, don't sweat it. You have lots more routes to get to your medium term goal. Keep the goal in mind, adjust the tactical steps as you go.

Remember you will have at least three careers, perhaps more in your lifetime. So you are thinking "do I want to be a Doctor or a Writer? I really love them both. I can't decide. It's so stressful". I bring glad tidings - The answer is that you will be both. And two more things as well. You don't need to make an either/or decision. You just need to decide which order you are going to enjoy your life in. There is no decision that you can possibly make now that defines your life forever more, so relax, enjoy, follow what feels right and when it stops feeling right do something else instead.

Learn how to fail. Your problem is that you've never really failed at anything, so you don't know how to. You always get As, the worst you get is a B. You always get into places you apply for. When was the last time you really went for something and landed flat on your face? So, you haven't learnt how to fail. You are scared of failure. How does it feel? How do people look at you? How will you look at yourself? But life is going to throw failure after failure at you and it all depends on how you bounce back. Get busy failing now while it's safe to do so, while you've got the support around you. It will help you in the future. Set yourself some real stretch goals and go for them. Gosh, you failed! Who cares? Has the world stopped spinning? Does your mother still love you? See it's not scary at all. Don't be afraid of failure - I do it all the time. It's no big deal. I am very bounce-back-able.

Better out than in. Never ever, ever, ever, ever (...) ever bottle up your stress and do that stupid stiff upper lip thing. Find a friend. Cry. Shout. Scream. Write. Blog. Sing sad songs. Paint. Get it out. Express it. You must not bottle it up. Did I say ever, ever enough? Have you got the message? Good.

What's the big idea? Somewhere in you is the Big Idea. You don't tell people because it sounds like you are boasting or just dreaming. But you are going to save the lives of 10,000 children. You are going to be Prime Minister. You are going to cure Aids. It is true. I have seen it. So, when you are stressing yourself out over some trivial issue about University A or University B, or one micro-grade vs another then remember these are tiny issues compared to what you are here on earth to do. You have a Big Idea. It is very big. Every and all paths that you take now will take you towards your big idea. It is impossible to be blown off course by some trivial decision that some small minded person makes today. We call such things "small matters". We dismiss them with the words "huh, these are small matters. I am here to do something bigger than you can know, than you can understand". We deal with these small matters and move on.

Alternatively if none of this works you can try the therapy offered by my son when he was younger. When someone in the house was being a bit stressed, he would follow them around, at a safe distance, chanting in a low voice "stressy stressy moo moo, stressy stressy moo moo". If all else fails, get yourself a small boy to follow you around chanting under his breath and see if that helps.

The Curse of BCC:

Nothing is more likely to breed suspicion amongst colleagues than the regular use of BCC: or blind copy on emails. It is a curse on organisations and I blame Microsoft (and the others) for ever inventing the feature in the first place.

The most obvious problem that I have fallen foul of time and time again is when you receive an email by BCC: but don't realise, so you just Reply All: Oh yes, been there, done that, got the t-shirt. However at least you are not the one who will be embarrassed. The Blind Copier cops the blame and looks like a shifty so and so for sending a BCC: in the first place.

The real problem is that if someone is a regular Blind Copier and you are the recipient of these, then you must assume that any emails they send to you are probably being blind copied to someone else. Both scenarios leave you in an awkward place.

If you have been BCC:d on something, then do you know about it or don't you? When you meet the people who were sent the email, can you engage in the conversation about the issue in the email or do you have to play dumb? What if they somehow know that you know, but you don't let on that you know? Then you look sneakier than ever, through no fault of your own.

Equally when you receive an email from a Blind Copier you are left wondering who was BCC:d on your email. When you meet your colleages, were they BCC:d and they are just not letting on or do they really not know?

And what about the Blind Copier? Did they BCC: you because you need to know this information? If so, why is it so important that other people don't know that you know? Or are they just showing you how tough they are being about some issue, a sort of cheeky wink at a friend as they pile in to do battle, leaving you grinning complicitly on the sidelines.

Oh the permutations are endless. But any way you look at it, BCC:ing is a bad idea. If you have something to tell people, tell them. If you don't, don't. Creating these wheels within wheels risks a climate of suspicion that doesn't do anyone any favours.

I never use BCC: myself. I get lost in the complexity of who I've told things and what I've told them at the best of times, let alone whether I've told them something secretly, so I stick to plain, open emails. If I want something kept confidential, I say "Please keep confidential". In fact I generally try to write any email on the assumption that I wouldn't die of embarrasement if its contents were posted on the office noticeboard.

And I think I will revert back to my hardline BCC: response strategy. If anyone BCC:s me I will immediately Reply All: so that everyone knows that I know and I don't have to pretend about what I've been told. If that causes the Blind Copier some embarrassement, well my guess is that it will only be the once. I doubt they will BCC: me again. If they do, I will simply post the email here for all of you to read :)

A Brush with Suicide

Last week I read in The Evening Standard that there were no less than three suicides on the London transport train and tube networks on a single day. That is so tragic and so sad.

It always makes my heart skip a beat when I hear about suicides under tubes because it reminds me of an experience I had on a tube platform about 20 years ago. It was probably the closest that I have come to a suicide incident since the one time that I seriously contemplated suicide myself years before (but that will have to be the subject of another post, perhaps).

On that particular day I wandered down to the platform as normal and flopped down on a bench next to a middle aged man. I noticed that he looked a bit sweaty and agitated, albeit normally dressed in a suit and tie as I was. He was muttering to himself and I remember thinking "oh no, trust me to sit next to the nutter. Must get in a different carriage when the train comes."

I tried to ignore him but then I heard that what he was muttering was "Do it, do it, do it" and he was wringing his hands. I started to get worried. Do what? Could he be planning to....? Do I ignore him in true British fashion or do I say "excuse me, strange muttering person, are you alright?" If I do, does he tell me to mind my own bloody business?

I sat, pretending to ignore him. He kept muttering, geting louder "Come on, do it, do it". I could hear the tube now coming, getting louder. He was getting louder "DO it, DO IT". I was really worried now. We were both still sitting down on the bench. The tube thundered in to the station. He is shouting "DO IT, DO IT". I am staring straight at him now, shouting "DO WHAT? DON't DO IT ! NO! SIT DOWN!" He is white as a sheet. I am terrified. We are both still sitting on the bench.

Train slows to a halt. He leans back. Bursts in to tears. I get up, shaken. Board the train. We don't make eye contact. We don't acknowledge each others presence. I have no idea what he was going to do. Resign from work? Leave his wife? Jump under the train? Book tickets for a footie match? I genuinely have no idea. I have no idea what he did next. I have no idea whether I was supposed to have done something different. Something more. No idea.

But everytime I hear the phrase "person under a train at station xzy" that 30 second incident from 20 years ago pops into my mind and my heart skips a beat.

When is the best time to kick a man?

I had never been chased by debt collectors before, until last week. It is not a nice experience.

It was all the more annoying because the bank that chased me made the mistake that caused them to chase me in the first place!

In my case it was all cleared up within a day or so with a phone call and an apology from the bank but it gave me a small sense of what it must be like if you are being hunted for real. And "hunted" is definitely what it feels like.

A couple of weeks ago I got a letter from my bank saying that one of my credit cards had been compromised in some unspecified way so they would be sending me a replacement card with a new number. So far, so good. A bit scary that they didn't say what had happeneed to my old card but at least they were being proactive about it.

The new card duly arrives. I cut up the old one and activate the new one. All good.

However around that same time my regular monthly direct debit is taken by the bank to pay the card balance. This is when the fun begins. The payment goes to the old card number but the bank has moved the outstanding balance to the new card that it has issued to me. So, on their systems there is one card with a healthy positive balance and another card with a missed payment. The result is chaos!

An alarm bell must go off inside the bank. "MISSED PAYMENT ALERT, MISSED PAYMENT ALERT". I have images of debt collection types in black ski masks swinging down on ropes and crashing through windows.

My mobile phone suddenly lit up with calls from a mysterious number. I ignored it a couple of times as I don't answer calls from numbers that I don't recognise but when it kept going off I answered and it was completely silent. How spooky is that. Now I'm worried. Who is this and how did they get my number?

Then it occurs to me to google the number. Up come loads of discussions asking "who owns this number?" and replies saying "it's such and such bank's debt collection department". Light dawns, but I am irritated that I'm being houned. As I'm busy at work, I make a note to call them later when I have a chance.

When I get home the first thing my wife says is that my bank has been calling and apparently needs to speak to me urgently. She is concerend. Is there a problem? One of my children mentioned that she answered a call from my bank. "What's that about, dad?" Those who know me will know that at this stage I am getting, how shall we say, erm, "focussed".

Before I called them, I logged on to the bank website to see if I could see what was going on. I tried to send the bank a message asking a question but a box popped up saying that I am blocked from sending messages and I must call debt collection immediately. Those who know me will know that at this stage I have grown horns, my eyes have gone all big and starey and I am speaking very slowly, quietly and deliberately. Yes, I. Would. Like. A. Cup. Of. Tea. Thank. You.

I call the bank. It is a short and quite focussed conversation. They start from the assumption that you are obviously in debt and that you've probably got some story to try to fob them off with. They've heard it all before. I speak in One. Word. Sentences. With a little help, they realise their mistake, apologise and call the dogs off. That didn't stop me getting three more silent, menacing automatic calls over the follow 12 hours though!

I think I must have got about ten called to my mobile and home in a 24 hour period due to their mistake, despite the fact that I had a big positive balance sitting on the old card plus quite large sums of money sitting in savings accounts at the same bank. It was a thoroughly unpleasant experience and that was just for me who (a) hadn't actually missed a payment and (b) has been a senior executive in a bank so is quite capable of dealing with such things.

It made me wonder what it must be like if in these difficult times of job losses and so on, you really do find yourself in trouble and miss a payment. All hell must break loose. Imagine that you've lost your job. You have three or four cards. You are trying to keep the plates in your life spinning in the hopes of finding another job soon. You are under pressure at home. YOu are trying to be the breadwinner but you are feeling battered. YOu miss a payment. Can you imagine getting 30 or 40 calls to your home and mobile as the pack descend, just when you are at your most vunerable? The thought makes me shiver.

Talk about kicking someone when they are down. But, hey ho, this is life I guess, and as the old saying goes "if you can't kick a man when he's down, when can you kick him?"

A view from the top: Don't look down!

A colleague of mine mentioned casually that in his spare time he jumps out of aeroplanes, about 20 times a year. I am hugely impressed. That's real action man stuff. I feel even more whimpish now that I have to admt that I am scared of heights.

What's puzzling me is that I didn't used to be scare of heights. I seem to have developed vertigo as I've got older. I didn't know that the ageing process had anything to do with fear of heights but I was surprised when my older brother revealed that he too has developed a fear of heights in the last few years. How odd.

In my case it has become quite acute. It doesn't help that my holidays keep taking me to places with amazing views. The cable car climb up Table Mountain, Cape Town, had me clinging to the middle of the car for dear life like a paralysed pole dancer. As people gasped at the glorious sunrise on the edge of the Grand Canyon, Arizona, I sat shivering and slightly dizzy looking resolutely in the opposite direction. The Stratosphere at the end of the Las Vegas strip where you can see straight down, the stairs to the middle section of the Eiffel Tower, driving through Rift Valley, Kenya, overlooking Niagra Falls and even the view from an old look-out tower atop the hills in the Peak District - all left me scared, sweaty and shaking.

So, how do I confront this? Some people insist that you face your demons. Kill or cure. It's time to "Man Up". Feel the fear and do it anyway. Me? I'm past all that macho stuff. I think I'll just change the places I go on holiday. Holland is looking pretty attractive all of a sudden.

Ties that bind

What exactly is the point of a tie?

That long strip of material that we men are obliged to wrap tightly around our neck and squeeze to the point of nearly, but not quite, cutting off all blood supply to the brain.

I have two offices in my current role. One requires me to wear a tie and the other doesn't. At the tie-office it doesn't matter what job you do - finance, marketing, customer service - you are not complete until you attempt to hang yourself with a dangerous piece of cloth which, if it got caught on a hook as you rush from one meeting to the next, would cause your legs to go flying and you'd land flat on your back like a cartoon character. By wearing a tie you will be able to do you job better. And when men from outside come to the office wearing their own ties you will be able to look at each other in a spirit of brotherhood and say "yes, we are men of ties. Respect, my tie-wearing brethren."

At the non-tie-office it doesn't matter what job you do - finance, marketing, customer service - you are not complete until you strip down to your neck, brazenly flaunting your adams apple for all to see, causing young ladies to faint at the sight of it bobbing up and down as you talk. By not wearing a tie you will be able to do your job better. And when men from outside come to visit, naked from the neck up, you will be able to hug each other with cries of "hey, you hip, young, non-tie-wearing dude. Rock on, buddy!"

Oh, no. I've just realised that wearing a non-tie is as much a uniform as wearing a tie. Is there no escape?

Perhaps I can find a third way. Wearing nothing but a tie.

The Establishment

Those amongst you who are keen readers of the Court and Social announcements section of the Daily Telegraph will have been excited to read about a dinner at Haberdashers Hall last week to mark the installation of the new Master of the Information Technologist's Company, a City Livery Company.

You will have been even more excited to note that at that very event, one Tom Ilube was installed as Panels Warden of said Livery Company. My mum reckons that I am now part of "The Establishment", but if I am it is only because I have climbed in to "The Establishment" through a broken downstairs window and am currently hiding in "The Establishment's" basement hoping that they don't spot me and toss me back out on to the street.

City Livery companies are ancient (and some not so ancient) guilds that represent trades that are or were practised in the City of London. In the old days you had to belong to the relevant guild to be able to practise the trade - if you wanted to be a goldsmith, join the Goldsmiths. They date back hundreds of years, some even claim a thousand years. The "Premier" Company is The Mercers, grand old fellows who I believe used to trade silk and such like around the world. Others include the Goldsmiths, Tallow Chandlers, Glovers, Skinners and many others, including the Information Technologists.

The Information Technologists' are the 100th Livery company. I am told that we could have been higher up the list but we deliberately held out for this binary number and we are very pleased with ourselves (although no-one else seems to care!). We have over 700 members, mostly CEOs, Chairmen, Directors from across the IT industry and a few honorary luminaries such as Sir Tim Berners Lee, Vint Cerf and Bill Gates.

Everyday phrases such as "Hallmark", being "at sixes and sevens" and (possibly) "keep it under your hat" derive from Livery traditions. And tradition is what Livery companies do best. The world around us changes but Livery companies keep to their traditions generation after generation. I think that's what I like about being involved. It fits well with my Tai Chi/Yin Yang mindset. In the innovative, fast moving, constantly changing world that I live my life and thrive in, I enjoy the periods of calm and constancy that come with the Livery movement. The same dinners, the same speeches, the same long meetings discussing the same agenda points, the same little jokes that I have heard for the last ten or more years make me relax and say inside "ahhhhh, thank goodness, some things don't change".

The main thing that Livery companies do, apart from upholding City traditions, is charity work. We collect and distribute tens of millions of pounds and this is were I get busy. Spending it, that is! My company, the Information Technologists', and the Mercers are sponsoring the Hammersmith Academy, our new school that will open in September 2011. This new school, specialising in ICT and Creative and Digital Media, is an exemplar of combining the old traditions of excellent education with the new creative and digital industries. We are raising over a million pounds for the school and all of that is coming straight out of the pockets of the members of the Livery company.

So, if you are wondering what a modern, high tech entrepreneur like me is doing hanging out with old Livery companies, that's the reason. Leveraging the deep roots and traditions of the City of London over the past thousand years to get exciting, innovative, charitable things done today is why I do it.

And I'm very proud if it.