I'm in a Bigger Pickle

Back in 2022 I wrote an article called I'm in a Pickle. I'd just moved into the first proper home I'd ever shared with a partner and I was frightened that if it all went wrong, I'd lose everything. I'd lose my partner, I'd lose my home and, because I was teaching guitar from a cabin in the garden, I'd probably lose my business too.

Well, almost exactly what I feared would happen, happened.

If I'm honest with myself, I don't think I ever really believed I could make that life work. Throughout most of my adult life I'd never thought I was cut out for marriage, children and conventional family life. I liked my independence too much, I liked being alone, I liked being able to practise my guitar when I wanted to and disappear off on my bicycle when I felt like it. But for some reason I wanted this new life to work so badly that I held onto it with everything I had.

And that meant not listening to myself.

There were times when my intuition, my fears and even my body seemed to be telling me to get the hell out of there. You can't do this. You're not meant for this life. But I ignored all of that because I wanted to prove myself wrong. Maybe after all these years of thinking I wasn't cut out for family life, I'd discover that I actually was.

So I tried and I tried and I tried.

We lived together for three years, two of those with a new baby, and what I hadn't really understood was just how much having a child would change everything. Of course I knew it would change my life, I'm not completely stupid, but knowing something in theory and actually living it are two very different things.

Slowly but surely, the things I'd always done began disappearing from my life. I couldn't practise my guitar in the way I'd always practised. I had very little time alone and less freedom to do the things that had always kept me happy and balanced. One by one, things that I'd always taken for granted disappeared and I became increasingly unhappy.

But I kept going because that's what I'd decided to do.

There was another reason I was determined to make it work. The house we lived in had been paid for by my partner and her family and I'd always felt slightly uncomfortable about that. When we moved in it was basically a shell and needed a huge amount of work to turn it into a proper home, so I decided to invest what remained of my life savings into it.

I built furniture, built a lean-to outside, paid for things that needed doing and landscaped both gardens. I put an enormous amount of work into the place as well as money, but I didn't really think about any of that at the time because this was my home now. This was where my partner and my son lived and where I thought I'd be living for the foreseeable future, so why wouldn't I spend my money on it?

Eventually my savings ran out.

Whether it was coincidence or not, it was at around that point that my partner asked me to leave.

I don't want to turn this into a story about who was right and who was wrong because I don't think relationships are that straightforward. I'd become incredibly unhappy and I think she knew that. Eventually I think she recognised that she could no longer make me happy, and we agreed that we should split up and I should move out.

So there I was. No partner, no home and almost no savings.

Oh dear.

There was also the small problem of my business.

At the time I was teaching guitar full-time from a cabin in the garden and I had a lot of students. My partner wanted me to leave the house immediately but told me I could continue using the cabin for another three weeks. From the 1st of September I had to be out because she was going to use it for her dog grooming business.

So I had three weeks.

In three weeks I had to find somewhere to live and somewhere to run my guitar teaching business. I couldn't just hire a random room for a few hours because I had guitars, amplifiers and all my teaching equipment that needed to stay there permanently. I needed proper premises that I could call my own, and I had no idea whether I'd find anything suitable in three weeks.

Somehow I did.

I now teach from premises in Reigate, right next to the grounds of one of the best schools in the area, and my business is thriving. So although that particular pillar of my life got a fairly hefty whack, it didn't collapse.

The other two did.

I hit depression and ended up staying at a friend's house for quite a long time. It took me a long time to get myself back together and just as I was trying to deal with everything that had happened, my health went wrong too.

I was diagnosed with a bladder condition and told that I would have to use a catheter for the rest of my life. I was also told that I had a cancerous tumour in my stomach. The medical stuff is all still ongoing with tests, appointments and various other things, so there's not much more I can say about that at the moment.

So yes, I was in a bigger pickle.

But something else happened after the split that I wasn't expecting.

I'd started writing a book while I was still in the relationship. Once our son was born I just didn't have enough time to continue with it and eventually the whole project ground to a halt. After the split I suddenly had time again, so I went back to writing it and managed to finish the book during the following twelve months.

And I got my guitar back.

Not literally, I never lost it. But I got back the time to practise it properly.

Something I'd wanted to do for years was play classical guitar publicly. I'd never really managed to make that happen, but after the split I began practising much more and my repertoire started to grow. I began playing classical guitar in cafés and getting some really lovely feedback from people who heard me play.

My playing has leaped forward. My repertoire has bloomed and these days I genuinely think I'm playing better than I've ever played before.

There's something uncomfortable about admitting that because I don't want it to sound as though I'm saying that having a child was a mistake. I'm not. I love my son and wouldn't exchange him for all the guitar practice in the world. But I can also admit now that I completely underestimated what becoming a parent would do to the life I'd been living before, and how important some of the things I gave up actually were to me.

Looking back at the article I wrote in 2022 is quite strange now.

I was frightened that I'd lose my partner. I did.

I was frightened I'd lose my home. I did.

I was frightened I'd lose my business. I very nearly did.

And after putting most of my remaining savings and several years of work into creating that home, I walked away from that too.

So perhaps the instincts I had back then weren't quite as irrational as I wanted to believe they were. Deep down I knew I was struggling to live that kind of life, but I wanted it so badly that I ignored what I was feeling and carried on trying to make myself fit into it.

I don't regret trying. I'm glad I did because otherwise I'd probably have spent the rest of my life wondering whether I could have made it work.

Now I know.

I couldn't.

So four years after writing I'm in a Pickle, I'm older, considerably poorer, single, living somewhere else, dealing with some fairly serious medical problems and still trying to work out exactly what happens next.

But my business is thriving, I've finished my book, I'm playing more guitar than I have for years, I'm performing classical music in public and, musically at least, I feel more like myself than I have for a very long time.

And I'm back to living in other people's houses. Apart from those three years, that's pretty much what I've done for most of my adult life. I've been a lodger, a flatmate or a housemate, living in somebody else's house and getting on with my own life. 

Except this time I'm 59 years old and I'm not quite as healthy as I used to be. I don't feel as though I'm looking for another girlfriend, wife or partner either. I think it's probably too late for that kind of sizzle.

Maybe it isn't. I don't know. But I'm not particularly interested and, if an opportunity did come along, I think I'd probably turn it down. I don't really feel that I have very much to offer somebody in that sense any more, unless perhaps I met somebody who was very much like me and wanted the same kind of life.

So life has pretty much returned to the way it's always been. I have my work, my guitar, my independence and my own things that I like doing.

Can't help feeling like I'm on borrowed time though. Better make each day count I suppose. 

Anonymity and Crime

Have you ever lived in a small village where all the residents know each other? I don't think there are many places left in England quite like this, but there may be some. Stay in one of these villages long enough and mingle with the local community and you may notice what I have: you feel safe, crime is low and antisocial behaviour is rare.

There are many explanations offered for crime and antisocial behaviour. Immigration, unemployment, deprivation and population density are all discussed, and some of these things may matter to varying degrees. But I wonder whether we overlook something much simpler: anonymity.

Behave badly or engage in violence towards others in a small community and everybody will know about it. The next time you walk down the street, you'll have to face people who know what you did. You cannot simply disappear into the crowd. Your behaviour follows you, and with recognition comes accountability.

People committing crimes generally have a very good reason not to be recognised. That's why someone intending to commit an offence may cover their face or wear clothing that makes them difficult to identify. They don't want to be seen, they don't want to be recognised and, ultimately, they don't want the behaviour attached to them. They don't want to be accountable.

These days, it's very easy to be anonymous, particularly in towns and cities where we can pass hundreds of people without knowing any of them. But what really started me thinking about anonymity was the behaviour I see every day on the internet, YouTube most of all.

It's very easy to set up an online account and hide your real identity. That anonymity means that what you say need not follow you back into your everyday life. You can unload malicious hatred on somebody you have never met and, in many cases, take little or no personal responsibility for it. Perhaps unsurprisingly, some of the most appalling comments we see online come from people who reveal almost nothing about who they actually are.

The conclusion I have reached is a simple one: remove some of the anonymity from our social spaces and we might all be better off. When people know who we are, we are accountable for how we behave. Our actions follow us.

One last thought. Perhaps this also helps to explain why some of us behave worse behind the wheel of a car than we ever would walking down the street. Inside a car, surrounded by strangers we are unlikely ever to see again, we can shout, swear, gesture, intimidate and drive aggressively, then simply disappear down the road. We can get away with it.

Perhaps anonymity doesn't make people behave badly. Perhaps it simply makes it easier for them to do so without having to face the people who saw them do it.

Why I Switched from Google Pixel to Samsung Galaxy S23 (And Why I’m Not Looking Back)

I’ve been a Google Pixel user for years. As someone who relies heavily on Google services—Gmail, Drive, Photos, Calendar—the Pixel always felt like the natural fit. It promised seamless integration, a clean Android experience, and all the latest updates straight from Google. For a long time, it really did make my life easier.

But over time, cracks started to appear in the experience. And after sticking with Pixel for “just one more year” too many, I finally made the decision to switch. Now that I’ve moved to the Samsung Galaxy S23, I can confidently say: I wish I’d done it sooner.

Here’s why.

The Breaking Point: Pixel’s Hardware Frustrations

For me, the Pixel started to feel more like a beta test device than a daily driver. The most frustrating issues weren’t about performance benchmarks or camera specs—they were about basic reliability.

The Fingerprint Sensor That Wouldn’t Work

Unlocking my phone became a daily hassle. The Pixel’s fingerprint sensor was so unreliable, I’d often have to try multiple times, reposition my thumb, or wipe the screen just to get in. For something that should be instant, it was anything but.

Swipe Issues and Screen Responsiveness

Another consistent problem was the screen swipe gesture system. It’s such a fundamental part of modern smartphones, yet on the Pixel it often felt buggy or laggy. Swiping up to go home, switching apps, or even simple scrolling sometimes stuttered or misfired. For a device I interact with all day, that’s simply unacceptable.

These issues persisted across multiple Pixel models and software updates. Eventually, I had to admit: the Pixel experience wasn’t living up to the promise anymore.

Why I Chose the Samsung Galaxy S23

After much thought, I decided to try something different and picked up the Samsung Galaxy S23. To my surprise, the transition has been smoother than expected—and in some ways, genuinely refreshing.

Pros of the Galaxy S23

Fingerprint Sensor That Works Properly

I can’t stress enough how much of a relief this is. With the Galaxy S23, unlocking my phone is quick, accurate, and consistent. No more awkward thumb gymnastics.

Fluid, Responsive Interface

Navigating the S23 is a pleasure. Swipes, gestures, and scrolling feel smooth and polished—like the Pixel used to in its prime.

Premium Build Quality

From the display to the haptics, everything about the S23 feels premium. Samsung has clearly nailed the hardware side of things.

Strong Performance and Battery Life

The phone runs effortlessly with no lag, and the battery comfortably lasts through the day without anxiety.

What I Miss About the Pixel

Switching to the Galaxy S23 hasn’t been perfect. There are definitely a few things I miss about the Pixel experience:

Google’s Seamless Password Management

On the Pixel, when logging into websites, Google would automatically suggest saved passwords from my account. It was simple, automatic, and felt like magic. The Galaxy S23 doesn’t integrate with Google Password Manager the same way, and while Samsung offers Samsung Pass, it’s not as seamless for someone fully invested in Google’s ecosystem.

Stock Android Simplicity

Samsung’s One UI is cleaner than it used to be, but it’s still not the minimalist Android experience you get on Pixel devices. There are extra apps, settings, and features that can feel a bit cluttered if you’re used to Google’s streamlined approach.

Pixel-Exclusive Features

Things like Call Screening, Hold for Me, and Google’s Recorder with live transcription are features I used and now miss. These AI-powered tools really did add value in daily life.

Final Thoughts: The Trade-Off Was Worth It

At the end of the day, no phone is perfect. But for me, the Galaxy S23 has solved the core frustrations that pushed me away from the Pixel—especially around reliability and daily usability.

Yes, I miss some of the Pixel’s exclusive features and Google’s tighter software integration. But those are trade-offs I’m willing to make for a phone that works consistently and doesn’t leave me second-guessing simple interactions like unlocking my device or swiping through apps.

I still think Google has potential to make the Pixel great again. Maybe in the future, I’ll revisit it. But for now, I’m happy with the switch, and the Galaxy S23 is proving to be exactly what I needed: a phone that just works, all the time. 

Speed Learning Guitar

Practising the guitar is all about getting better at it. Repetition is necessary but repeat too much and progress can stop, as I found out. 

Learning how to learn is probably the most useful thing I have ever learned. Speed learning guitar doesn't take hours per day, it takes only minutes per day

I remember noticing the difference between types of practice I was doing. One day learning something brand new and another day refining and improving something that I had learned before.

Since the key to speed learning is constantly challenging yourself, learning something new is easy because it's usually difficult at the beginning and that really concentrates the brain. But when it comes to 'refining' something - and by refining I mean making it sound better, faster, improving it - I had to work out how to practice the same thing over and over without getting bored or relying on muscle memory. That's what really transformed my sessions.

Design and Redesign your practise sessions

I literally wasted years believing that simple repetition would lead to improvement. It didn't! I remember almost falling asleep during one practice session while I went over and over the same scale again and again. I guess I used to think that just by practicing for longer, I would automatically improve. 

So it wasn't until I began to work out how to identify when muscle memory takes over and dynamically changed my routines accordingly, that I began to speed learn again.  I knew it was important to repeat to learn, but I just couldn't keep my focus while doing the exact same thing over and over.

What I learned in those years is that the amount of time you spend practicing, won't necessarily reflect the in the results you get.

I knew that my practice sessions had to become dynamic and adaptive. As I improved I had to change things, not just lazily repeat.

It isn't how long you spend doing it, it's how you do it. 

So how did I do it?

I wanted to find new ways to practice the same thing over and over while maintaining the same level of concentration I had when I learned something brand new.

I started by using my metronome to increase the difficulty level. For example, I would play a phrase in quarter notes, then switch to eighth note triplets, then switch to 16th notes, all within a minute of practicing.

Now I had to focus on the timing changes and that meant concentration.

Then I started to notice that when I practiced a scale or lead phrase, that I always played it the same way. For example, I would always start on a down pick stroke and use alternate picking.

When I tried to switch to starting on an upstroke instead, it became much more difficult – especially as  would speed up the metronome. So I incorporated this as a technique to re-focus myself, just like I’d done when changing the timing against a metronome click.

When I started doing this for all the phrases and scales I thought were easy, they became difficult again. So I went back over all of them using this pick stroke modification to make them difficult.

 It didn’t take long before I could play everything faster with a lot more accuracy. My timing was improving and so was my left-right hand coordination.

I hadn’t been specifically practicing to play faster, but that was the result I was getting.

Nowadays I use a lot of similar techniques to keep my improvement constant. One of my favorites and most effective is taking the musical phrase out of context and completely changing the timing of it. I will keep doing that until I run out of ways to change it. It’s bit like learning to draw portraits by drawing them upside down so the image becomes completely unfamiliar and you can’t rely on your facial pattern memory to help.

By the time I get back to playing the phrase the original way, I find it easy because I have learned to play it upside down, back to front and sideways - so to speak.

I also use a lot of legato phrasing as a technique to re-introduce difficulty. Anything works really, I just have to make sure I don't get bored.

Any questions?

Dear Lloyds Bank

Dear Sir, I'll keep this short and succinct as I know you're very busy.

When I borrow money from you , you charge me quite a lot. I don't charge you anything at all for borrowing my savings to make yourselves more money. 

I have been testing a reputable internet bank for some time now who don't charge me anything for their services. I suppose this is because they appreciate being able to use my savings to make themselves enough money. 

They also pay me much more interest on my savings than you do. 

I don't know about you, but I think it's time to move all my savings to this new bank. 

P.s. the old people like me who still think you are a good place to keep their money , won't be around for much longer. Perhaps it's time to consider a change in your game plan. But it's probably too late for you anyway. 

Why I quit my morning coffee

16 years ago, I decided to become a fully fledged classical guitarist. This tall order would need a daily practice committment of at least 2 hours per day . 

The only thing standing in my way was a  full-time 9 to 5 job, so the only way forward was get up ridiculously early and practise guitar before I began work at 9am.

I really struggled to wake up quickly and get the most out of this two hours, so decided coffee was the answer. Actually a 

very, very strong tripless espresso, that woke me up and put me straight into study focus.

Three days ago I stopped drinking that early morning coffee. I'd heard a podcast explaining what microbiologists had discovered about the early morning caffeine kick start does to the body. It turns out that the severe caffeine crash I'd been having every afternoon could be avoided, simply by not drinking my coffee immediately after waking up. This would  allow the body time to kick start all the necessary metabolic processes that keep us going all day. I'd been sabotaging mine for 16 years and in the last year or two, I'd put my afternoon slump down to circumstantial factors beyond my control. I was wrong. It was indeed the coffee crash - deep and dark , just like my morning brew! 

What an incredible difference in the way I feel. My afternoons are transformed by recovery of the motivation and optimism that usually started my day. Almost immediately after stopping the caffeine kick start fix, I am energised for longer , many hours longer and feel good all afternoon.  I wish I'd quit years ago, I really do. 

I still drink coffee , but not in the morning, not any more. 

I'm in a pickle

Today I find myself living as I often have , without any security and barely enough income to pay my way. 

I am living with my girlfriend of 3 years and for the first time in over 20 years I have a home and a life that Im trying hard to belong to. For the first time I have the prospect of some security, but that security depends upon my ability to adapt to the kind of life I never thought I could bear. 

For as long as I can be the man I need to be, my home is home. If this relationship doesn't work out, I will lose my home and my security. 

I've never before been concerned about my security my future or even having a home. I've just embraced a way of life that has lead me safely through decades living in other people's houses and spare rooms. 

I want to make this work, I'm trying the best I can. I like this life and this home , but this home belongs to my partner. If we split up she keeps her home and I hit the road. I don't know exactly why this frightens me, but it does. Sooner or later I suppose I will mess this up. I guess I don't believe I have what it takes to cohabit with a significant other. It just doesn't seem possible, at least not for me. 

Can I really make her happy? How much of myself has to change for that to achievable? Why do I suddenly fear going back to the way of life I lived before? Perhaps I'm worried about getting old or dying alone? Maybe I've actually found the person who I truly love and want to spend the rest of my days with? 

I probably just need to man up and accept the risks, forget the what ifs and learn to ignore all the self doubt. Noone said it was supposed to be easy.