400

We've kinda been here before you and I

My New Year resolutions are thus. 

1. Blog more.  One post a day for the next 400 days.  Why 400?  Well it's a number synonymous with an innings that took place in the region I am heading to next.  In 400 days I will have passed the Caribbean, a World Cup, another pregnancy, an Ashes, a trip to NZ and find myself in South Africa contemplating a journey back to where you find me now, Auckland.  If all goes to plan that is.  400: The number of words I should aim to complete.  Every day.  

2. Be more disciplined.  Whatever that means.

3. Be in the present.  Life is much better when I'm in the present.

4. Remember how to use the Blogspot app on my phone. It developed a bug that meant it crashed every time I opened it.  So I deleted it.  True story.

5.  I wonder if I used : in point 1. properly.

Times have changed since I started out on this blog.  Back in 2006 when I left England for my first major trip abroad I was single, hadn't traveled much and the blog an excuse to develop my writing.  My intended audience my old friends back home.  A way to let them know what I was up to in a (hopefully) humourous fashion.  Slightly self-indulgent at times.  Okay, incredibly self-indulgent.  But at the heart I wasn't afraid to make mention of miscreant antics in years gone by in a slapdash carefree kinda way.  That person doesn't really exist any more.  And my friends have also grown up, had kids and got married.  One night after a Shanks game the topic of windows came up.  I nearly smacked my head against the table.  When did it come to this?

My friends were the alternative ones, the smokers, the drop outs, artistic, musical, daring-doers, funny, idiotic, political, wise, forward thinking, right on, long-haired, individuals.  And they still were back in 2006.  But there's nothing more sad than clinging on to the past. 1994 was cool and all but not so cool that everyone should stay there.  We have to keep evolving.  

So who am I writing this to?  Maybe the 2019 audience want a behind the scenes tale of life on tour.  A talkSPORT expose with stories of mad egos, tantrums, fallings out, bad behaviour, technical nightmares, logistical mishaps with a back drop of 18-30 holiday style drinking and partying.  Well that might happen but it's not going to get aired here.

So where is my voice these days?  Lost amidst a flurry of middle-management box-ticking, administrative tasks, budgets and when time, cricket prep?  It's been a few years since I ventured out onto this platform.  So who am I speaking to?  

I suppose I am speaking to the man my son becomes.  Him and my soon-to-be-born child.  A glance into the life their dad had before they knew me.  I'm talking to myself.  I'm trying to develop my writing again.  I'm trying to find my voice.  I'm just going to write until I know the answer.  When it becomes obvious again I'll feel confident enough to start flagging up this blog.  Until then it's just you and me.  We've been here before.