Author Archive

It’s not you, it’s me

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It’s not you, it’s me

  This is by way of being an apology. Etiquette dictates that those intending to dump their girlfriends or boyfriends should seem to apologise by employing the simple formula, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Passing a few hours online the other day, I happened across a rather attractive T-shirt for sale which bore the message,…

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Unconventional wisdom

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If it takes 2 men 2 hours to paint a gutter, how many phone calls will be missed in the process? Neil Taylor tries to find out. I’m down on my hands and knees, scrubbing hard at the brilliant white paint on the York stones outside the kitchen. The phone rings. I’m suddenly desperate to…

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My personal best?

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Neil Taylor wouldn’t lose sleep over being on the scrapheap My oldest son, has just completed his first Ironman triathlon, which is the small matter of swimming 2.4 miles followed immediately by cycling 112 miles followed immediately by running a marathon. The world record for covering these 140.6 miles in this manner is 7 hours…

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I saw my psychotherapist again today

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I saw my psychotherapist again today. I waved at him from the car, but he ignored me. I could see he recognised me, but he wouldn’t stop. So I chased him, backwards — as if we were in a Bond movie, I threw the car into reverse in the narrow one-way street with the tyres…

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Reader, I married them

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We offer the Greyhares antidote to Royal Wedding post euphoria syndrome. Twice-married Neil Taylor asks, “What’s the point of marriage?” Would you ever seriously consider advising someone you cared for to get married? Your own children, for example? Or Ed Miliband? The most recent report from the Office for National Statistics reveals that there were fewer…

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Tangled up in blue

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Can white men sing the blues? There’s clearly no point in asking guest contributor Neil Taylor… I was going to take my small son to the Science Museum to meet up with one of his older siblings and my wife was attempting to dress him for the journey. She called up the stairs to me, asking would…

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Looking ahead: fatherhood at 65

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I was 65 when my latest son was born – a mere 28 years after the next youngest.  I naturally asked my three other sons’ permission (although it was too late by then) and they didn’t seem to have a problem with it. What other people made or make of it is not clear, because…

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