Thas Nowt But A Reyt Mardy Arse

I love Barbados and my thoughts often turn to how I could fund my own little villa out here in the sun. I'm not talking about something along the lines of an £11 million mansion in Montecito but I am thinking of following in the Duke of Sussex footsteps and writing a book. It's at the early stages of planning and I've decided to call it 'Thas nowt but a Reyt Mardy Arse'. Just for clarity and in case the Dukes lawyers read this blog, the title is not a commentary on the Dukes recent publication, but more referring to the main revelation in my warts and all account of life growing up in the Riley household. A bit like the Duke, as the younger sibling, I do have some grievances to air and I can fully relate to his sense of injustice at always having the smallest room in the family home. I'm not sure how a box room in a 1930's semi compares to Harry's room at Balmoral but that's not really the point. I've also had my arguments with my brother and in the book I will reveal my version of one of the most contentious issues of my childhood; the snooker scoreboard and glass door incident. After 50 years this still comes up in family conversations and I'm still, incorrectly, the one who gets the blame for throwing the scoreboard through the glass doors that separated the best room from the living room. The flimsy evidence that supports this view is that I was being a reyt mardy arse having lost a game of snooker to my brother, on our small home snooker table. The truth is that there was a dispute over a pot, if I remember correctly related to the pink ball, my brother put the score on the wooden scoreboard and in the resulting scuffle the scoreboard hit the glass door leaving a crazy paving effect. At best it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, but if my brother hadn't cheated in the first place this would never have happened. Of course my version of events contradicts years of briefings and misinformation to the contrary and the thrown scoreboard has incorrectly become the accepted truth.  There will be other revelations in my book including why as a child when I was sent to my room for one of my many 'perceived' misdemeanours I used to tie my dressing gown cord around my Teddy bears neck then hang it down from the upstairs landing and try and bonk people on the head as they walked along the hall to the living room. If that doesn't scream out therapy required I don't know what does. I must say having finally started the process of putting this down in print, I've found it all quite cathartic and I'm pleased I've started the process of getting the real truth out there. If you are sitting there reading this and thinking this just feels like a load of self indulgent nonsense, you might be right, but it hasn't stopped the Duke's book selling 1.4 million copies on the first day, so I'm sticking with it. Now where did I put that directory of Barbadian Estate Agents.

As I sit here on my balcony looking out over the Carribean sea watching the boats sail past and listening to the chickens and cockerels that wander freely around the island busy themselves (no apparent worries about bird flu here), I'm reading another article in the newspaper about the new scourge on society. It's not as you might think people who are playing the welfare system, illegal immigrants or inept politicians. The article refers to the "over 50's who lost the habit of working (during covid) and didn't fancy getting back into it". There are apparently 1.6 million economically inactive over 50 's who are neither in work or actively seeking work and this is the main reason why the UK is the only nation where the workforce hasn't returned to post covid levels. This shortage of workers has led to greater competition by employers to attract and retain staff by increasing wages with a consequent impact on inflation. Blimey! I feel a bit guilty now, I hadn't realised that my decision to take early retirement and just enjoy life would have such an impact on the nation. However what really troubles me, to the point where there is a slight tremble in my hand as I pick up my glass of rum punch, is that employers are asking the government to look at ways to encourage the over 50's back into the workplace. This news will generate a rye smile on the faces of many of the 1.6m over 50's who I'm sure will be surprised to hear how valued and important we were to the point that employers want us back! But hang on a minute, everyone has their price, I'd consider a government funded villa in Barbados with a work from home package and it could save us all the pain of another book!

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