So, I recently signed up to join a new and much closer exercise class. The previous drive of nearly an hour each way had proved to be beyond my range. Actually doing exercise when I got there seemed bonkers! But I haven’t been there as of yet ― my…
Fall Down, Get Up Again
— John Connor
In the ‘80s, John Connor created the first regular column about the burgeoning London stand-up scene. In 1990 he wrote a book about its effect on the Edinburgh Festival: “Comics: A Decade of Comedy at the Assembly Rooms.” That year he also devised and ran a live topical stand-up team show at The London Comedy Store, The Edge (It was destroyed in 2020!). In 2009 John was diagnosed with relapsing-remitting MS, which cut short his main job as a TV casting director for “Black Books,” “My Family,” et al. Now, John writes “Fall Down Get Up Again,” an irreverent journey with MS.
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A few columns back, I wrote about my lack of time to get anything done. Sure, the way around it would be to get up infernally early — well, early for me. But I’m most certainly not going to pay to be punished. And that’s the story I’ve always…
It’s summer in the U.K., and it’s hot. That’s cause for celebration for everyone but us. It’s actually the hottest June day since 1986. Heat immediately spikes my fatigue. For some of us, the cold does the same. Thankfully, not me — I get the winter off. According…
Back in the day, I always wanted to be a columnist. That day was so long ago it was before sunrise. In my youthful naivety, I never thought about generating an idea a week. I also never considered it would be about my travails with an illness. Still,…
One of the most dispiriting aspects of a chronic illness is that it traps you in your own world. Major events happen but these are filtered against the achievement of actually being able to get yourself to the bathroom. At the time of writing, we in the U.K.
Read John Connor’s previous column, “Lemtrada I: This Island Couch.” Apologies for the pic of my edema–riddled right foot. If I put whiskers on it, my big toe could do a damn fine impersonation of a seal. On the bright side, a month ago it was twice this…
The latest drug media storm to erupt in Britain is “Spice,” which causes users to become living statues. Exactly a year ago, I became a living statue for six weeks, and not one reporter hassled me. That would have broken the monotony! We all have our own version…
If I was writing fiction about two disabled people going on a road trip, I’d be pleased to create a character like Nigel. He’s stroppy, Northern (from the perspective of the U.K. there isn’t a direct U.S. analogy – think deep south– but really cold and more booze!)…
It was three years since I’d seen my best mate Nigel. The last time had been when we said goodbye at London City Airport after our three-day sozzled sojourn (OK, drunken trip) round the Scottish Isle of Islay. To the uninitiated, a pilgrimage for those who worship peat in their…
There are a few moments when life changes. In my day, it was meeting your partner across a crowded room. Now it’s sadly the flick of an app. What hasn’t changed is that only later do you realize this really was a moment. This isn’t a story about romance…
These might be the days of the gig economy, but I’ve been doing one every Tuesday for 27 years. My particular white van (for US readers the delivery drivers of such are a British stereotype of the new Amazon order — or lack of it) is a comedy vehicle…
In the summer of 2012 David Bowie’s song “Heroes” became the anthem of the London Olympics despite Bowie turning down an invitation from British director Danny Boyle to be part of the opening ceremony. Gracious as ever, Bowie agreed to a meeting. Boyle had a lot to thank him for. Bowie…
It seems I’ve made it to my second weekly column. I was going to write about a non-MS physical impairment that had kept me down for a month. It’s easing now and hopefully will make a future story with a happy ending. Instead I’m going to do a bang-up-to-the-moment piece…
So, I’m lying on the floor taking in the stippled ceiling we’ve never changed in the past 19 years. My son, also 19, is now at university. That’s how I can be so exact on the age of my relationship with the hideously slathered ceiling. We moved in one month…
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