Review: MillenniuM - Chris Carter's Forgotten Classic

During the third season of The X-Files, its creator, Chris Carter, was approached by Fox Television to produce another series. For this they would give him complete freedom to develop the look, of the show, with a budget of almost $1.5 million per episode. The result was, MillenniuM, which aired in 1996. It ran for three seasons, before being axed due to poor ratings, in 1999. MillenniuM had an uppercase ‘M’ at either end to signify the year 2000, as it would appear in Roman numerals.

While developing the story and character of its main protagonist, Frank Black, Chris Carter had only one person in mind, Lance Henriksen. However, Fox thought that he was unsuitable and wanted William Hurt, but Chris Carter stuck to his guns. Things were made difficult for him when Lance Henriksen turned down the offer, as he didn't want to enter a TV career. Lance had turned down Chris Carter before, when he had been asked to appear in The X-Files. Still unswayed, Chris Carter, sent a script to Lance Henriksen’s agent, which Lance read, thinking it was for a movie. Immediately liking the script, he contacted his agent, who then told him it was an upcoming TV series. Amazed that it was for a TV series, Chris and Lance finally got together and the rest, as they say, is history.

Chris Carter gave Lance Henriksen a small bit of direction, that defined Frank Black’s character for the duration of the series.

Chris said to me. “Lance, here’s our rule for Frank Black, for the whole show: Don’t move your hands.” I said, “But I’m from New York, I use my hands for punctuation.” He said, “When somebody talks with their hands, it looks like you’re selling something.” For a while I was in abject misery. I don’t trust language, and now I can’t use my hands. What am I supposed to use? How am I gonna fill the void? I realised, I have to rely on my heart…. When I made that connection, I was okay with it all. I used my most primitive instincts to play the most sophisticated character – a very bright, articulate human being. The part of him that I could grasp was as primitive as I feel I am. His basic nature is what gives him the strength; his intuition gives him strength; his caring gives him strength; his non judgmental nature gives him strength to do what he has to do and to survive. - Lance Henriksen

MillenniuM followed Frank Black, a former FBI forensic profiler with an uncanny ability to ‘see’ through the eyes of the killer. Sometimes this ability was almost a sixth sense, while at other times it was an almost psychic ability. Frank Black had been forced to retire, from the FBI, after receiving Polaroids of his family through the post. Moving his family to Seattle, for the safety of a normal life, Frank Black became a freelance profiler for the MillenniuM Group, helping the Police with murder cases. However, Frank Black is soon disturbed to find photographs of his family, in Seattle, posted through his door. To keep up the facade of everything being well, only Frank and the MillenniuM Group are aware of the images. The MillenniuM Group itself was made of former FBI, Police and various other specialists, all who were expert in their field, with Peter Watts (Terry O’Quinn) being Frank’s main contact in the Group. Unlike many recent crime dramas, Frank Black wasn’t just a profiler. Through Frank Black we were taken on a deep, and often dark, analysis of the evil that surrounds us.

[caption id="attachment_934" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The complete three series of MillenniuM, plus the new book, Back to Frank Black.[/caption]

The first series focused on Frank using his ability to aid the Seattle Police Department, among others, with help from the MillenniuM Group, as it was needed. Frank is not a member of the MillenniuM Group, but he is being tested to see if he is worthy to join. During the first series episode Lamentation, we are first introduced to the character of Lucy Butler, who would become the embodiment of evil on Earth, to Frank’s good.

During the second series, Frank Black is caught up in some more supernatural cases and makes a friend of Lara Means (Kristen Cloke), who also works for the MillenniuM Group. This series had many references to the ‘End of the World’ and the ‘Apocalypse’ of the coming millennium of the year 2000, dealing with angels and demons and the fight between good and evil. As the series progressed, Frank begins to realise that the MillenniuM Group is hiding a sinister agenda. Fearing for his family, Frank takes them into the woods, as a virus outbreak sweeps the state.

The third, and final, series sees Frank rejoining the FBI, following the death of his wife in the virus outbreak. Joined by a new partner, in the form of FBI Agent Emma Hollis, Frank tries to prove that the MillenniuM Group were responsible for the outbreak, and so his wife’s death. This series was more like the first and gave us some great twists and surprises.

Although the series was cancelled, many fans clamoured for more, or at least some form of closure for Frank Black. What they received was an episode of The X-Files, entitled MillenniuM, which did nothing for the MillenniuM or Frank Black storyline, in my opinion.

Series two had a different ‘feel’ to series one and three, due to Chris Carter handing over of the management of the show to Glen Morgan and James Wong, while he concentrated on season five of The X-Files and The X-Files movie. This absence cost the show, dearly, and made sure that MillenniuM didn’t see in the new millennium, even though he back control for the third series.

The theme music was written by Mark Snow, who also wrote the theme for The X-Files, and was a haunting violin piece, set to bizarre and disturbing images. On many episodes the titles were followed by a quotation from the likes of Plato, Jean-Paul Sartre, W.H. Auden, Biblical quotes and many more.

Chris Carter (creator), Lance Henriksen (Frank Black) and Frank Spotnitz (co-executive producer) have all stated ‘On The Record’ of their hope and desire to bring Frank Black back to the screen, whether on TV or through a motion picture.

For myself, I think MillenniuM was a fascinating and sometimes extraordinary series, that was greatly overlooked. For its time it was quite graphic and had a lot of gore, which did put some people off, but this wasn’t for shock value, but to show how evil the world can be. But, no matter how desperate Frank Black got, he still had the focus and mindset to overcome, sometimes at great risk to himself or others. Unlike other shows, Chris Carter wasn’t averse to having his hero beaten up, arrested or shot. Frank Black went through all manner of misfortune through the entire series, but somehow managed to keep sight of what was right. Throughout the show it is Frank’s family, especially his daughter Jordan, who may also have his ability, that keep his course true. The writing was, for the most part, natural and wasn’t dumbed down, making it more of an intellectual feast than your typical run of the mill crime shows. Even now I still enjoy watching the DVDs and find that they are just as good now as they were nearly two decades ago.

Below are a few links, for those who want to find out more.

Original Trailer http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcKyW_AtXB0

MillenniuM Website http://millennium-thisiswhoweare.net/

Back to Frank Black http://www.backtofrankblack.com/

THE TIME IS NOW

The Battle Wagon's Last Hurrah ends in a discovery!

Sunday, 23rd April.

Our Battle Wagon has done us proud for a long time, but it is now time to retire her and send her to the great buggy paradise in the sky. But, before this could happen, we had to take her on one last trip.

After lunch, we took a stroll into Watford, to get a few items for home. We then headed to Pets at Home, to show Erin and Keilyn the rabbits, guinea pigs, hamsters, rats, fish, snakes, etc., before deciding to make our way home. Erin was bored with being cooped up in the Battle Wagon and was demanding to be released, so that she could walk home. This was a great idea as the weight of the two girls, plus the shopping, really put a strain on the Battle Wagon, which we had abused for so long. So, we headed towards Oxhey Park and the River Colne, where it was safer for Erin to run around. With Erin running alongside the river, we followed the path to Wiggenhall Road, where we crossed onto the Riverside Recreation Ground, still following the river, until we reached Riverside Park.

Erin proceeded to enter the park and have a ride on the swings, clambered over the climbing frames and down the slides. She did this many times, before we decided it was time to head off.

Leaving the park, we joined the Ebury Way Cycle Path, heading in the direction of home. The last time that I had been on this particular piece of the Ebury Way, it had been a torrent of water due to the River Colne bursting its banks, having been swollen by the flood waters. Luckily, the ground had dried considerably, allowing the Battle Wagon to make its way unhindered, except for the odd mud puddle. With Emma pushing the Battle Wagon, Erin and I decided to head off into the undergrowth, beside the old railway line, to see how the renovation of the  line was progressing. It is due to be reopened in 2017 , as part of the Croxley Rail Link. It appears to be progressing well, with a most of the line cleared and the trees and shrubs, which had spread like wildfire, being cut right back. Getting as far as we could, we turned round and headed back to Emma and Keilyn.

[caption id="attachment_902" align="aligncenter" width="300"] A piece of the old Rickmansworth to Watford railway line.[/caption]

With the Lairage Land Nature Reserve to our right and allotments to our left, we continued on our merry way until I spotted one an old ceramic insulator 'pot' in the undergrowth. These insulator 'pots' usually hold up the third rail and, when railway lines are ripped up, are normally just left smashed by the side of the line. The Ebury Way is built on an old railway line that used to run from Rickmansworth to Watford, but fell into disuse many years ago. Eventually the cycle route was put through and it is now a busy thoroughfare. Sometimes, as now, you can find a complete one, but they are rare. So I grabbed a photo. No sooner had I done this than I noticed another insulator 'pot', which was made of glass. Having never seen one before, I took a photo, before picking it up to study. Sure enough it was an insulator 'pot' and it was made of glass. So, carefully, I placed it under the Battle Wagon, much to its consternation, before we continued on our way.

[caption id="attachment_903" align="aligncenter" width="300"] A Glass Insulator Pot, in the undergrowth of the Ebury Way.[/caption]

We then began to notice that the Lairage Land Nature Reserve was still slightly flooded, but not as much as the area around the Electricity Transmission Station and the surrounding fields, which make up the River Colne floodplain, to our left. As we crossed the river we could see swans, swimming in the middle of the cricket pitch, while the old 'Pill Box' looked to be on an island, all of its own.

With us being minutes from home and Erin's legs starting to flag, I decided to put her on my shoulders. Putting her in the Battle Wagon didn't seem right, plus, although we were now on tarmac, the extra weight makes it creak and protest. Typically, on arriving home, Keilyn had decided to fall asleep, so we left her wrapped up in the Battle Wagon, while we decanted the shopping and my 'new' garden ornament, namely the glass insulator 'pot', and proceeded inside for a well deserved coffee.

I then spent a good half hour Googling Glass Insulator Pots, finding only one image that resembled the one that now sat in my garden. A little more research led me to discover that they were an 'experimental' insulator pot, manufactured for a short time in 1934. Not many were produced, adding to their rarity, and they were predominantly used in the south of England.

[caption id="attachment_904" align="aligncenter" width="300"] An image of my cleaned up, 80 year-old Glass Insulator Pot.[/caption]

St. Mary the Virgin Church, Watford

The parish church of St. Mary the Virgin was built on the site of an earlier Anglo-Saxon church, in 1230. Being the parish church for Watford, the church was built in the middle of the town, towards the centre of the High Street. It is one of the largest churches in Hertfordshire and is also the oldest building in Watford, carrying a Grade I Listed status.

The oldest parts of the church, still remaining, are the Chancel arch, the double piscina in the Chancel, the doorway above the pulpit and the  South arcade of the Nave.

The tower was built in the 15th century and stands 24m to the top of the battlements. A narrow 96 step spiral stair forms a turret at the top of the tower, where there is also a Hertfordshire Spike, which is 9m high, in the centre of the roof. The tower has a clock face on the north, east and south sides, but not on its west face. There are many rumours as to why this is so, but no definitive answer. Many believe that as Watford was predominantly just one long street, with more buildings to the east, there was no need for a  west clock face. Also, as the Watford Union Workhouse was built to the west of the church, the planners didn't add a clock face to this side so that the 'inmates' wouldn't keep 'clock-watching'. The external plaster face of the tower walls were removed, in 1871, to be replaced with flint and dressed stone.

A Church Centre was added to the main building in 1979, to replace the old Church Halls. This space is used for church meetings, group meetings and social events.

St. Mary the Virgin has ten bells which, when rung out, can be heard for many miles around. Eight of the bells were cast in 1919, by Gillett and Johnston, who forged another two bells in 1946. There is also a smaller bell, kept in the tower, which dates from 1704, and is said to be Watford's old Market bell. The tenor bell weighs a massive 1237kg.

[caption id="attachment_889" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The Grade I listed parish church of St. Mary the Virgin, is Watford's oldest building.[/caption]

There are also twelve locally and nationally registered Grade Listed tombs, in the adjacent cemetery. One of these is to the memory of George Edward Doney.

George Edward Doney was captured from Gambia and taken to Virginia, as a child, where he was sold into slavery. In 1765 he arrived in Watford, where he worked for 44 years at Cassiobury House, for the 5th Earl of Essex, Church records show that he was baptised on August 1st, 1774. It was while working for the 5th Earl of Essex that George gained his freedom, but continued to work for the Earl. When he died, in 1809, he was listed as a widower, but no records so far give any clue as to whom he married.

Below is the inscription from his tombstone;

Poor Edward blest the pirate bark which bore 
His captive infancy from Gambia's shore
To where in willing servitude he won
Those blest rewards for every duty done -

Kindness and praise, the wages of the heart; 
None else to him could joy or pride impart,
And gave him, born a pagan and a slave,
A freeman's charter and a Christian's grave.

[caption id="attachment_890" align="aligncenter" width="225"] The grave of George Edward Doney.[/caption]

Have Battle Wagon, will travel.

Sunday, 16 February.

With Emma working a couple of night-shifts, back-to-back, I decided to take the two girls out, on Sunday morning, so that Emma could sleep.

The weather had decided that it was Spring, rather than Winter, and hit the area with sun and warmth (10c). Regardless, I dressed Erin in her pink wellies and matching pink one-piece, waterproof all-weather suit, while Keilyn wore her trainers and a one-piece outfit. With both girls suitably attired, and with provisions (raisins, bread sticks, crisps and drinks) stored in a small rucksack, I strapped the girls into the Battle Wagon, and off we set.

Our Battle Wagon is a standard two-seater buggy, with all the trimmings; Rain cover, sunshade, reclining seats, 5-point safety straps with a small shopping basket beneath the seats and a drinks holder. The wheels are standard, for a buggy, but our Battle Wagon has been everywhere. Besides the normal footpaths, for which it was designed, we have taken it along rugged cycle tracks, potholed paths, through woods and forests, around parks and through mud. It has been through hell and some fairly high water and is still going strong. Well, the brake sometimes clicks into place, at the most inopportune moments, so we have an elastic bungee holding that in place. The wheels are more ovaloid than round, due to the incessant snacking by the two year-old than the rough terrain, I feel, but it is still going, just.

Luckily, for me, the Ebury Way cycle path is just a few hundred yards from the house, so we were on it in minutes, heading in the direction of Rickmansworth. But, what with the recent flooding, I had decided that it might be fun to explore Croxley Common Moor, which is a natural flood plain for the River Gade. Within fifteen minutes we arrived at the Moor, where I released Erin from the buggy and tilted Keilyn's seat back, as she had decided to doze off. Something she does whenever we go out somewhere different.

[caption id="attachment_866" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Erin is ready for mud and puddles.[/caption]

With the Battle Wagon now a half-ton lighter, now that Erin was no longer weighing it down, it was a lot more manoeuvrable. Even so, I locked the front wheels in place and we began our stroll across the Moor.

Erin was in her element. She pounced on every puddle and mashed every muddy pool. Her pink clothing was gradually getting darker and blacker, but she didn't care, and neither did I for that matter, because that is what kids love to do.

[caption id="attachment_865" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Croxley Common Moor is becoming a Marshland, due to the excessive rain.[/caption]

Croxley Common Moor is also a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) and a Local Nature Reserve. Covering some 100 acres it is a historic grassland which, after years of grazing and being the flood plain for the River Gade, which flows along its western edge, has turned it into an amazing and diverse habitat for wildlife. During the Summer months, cows are grazed on the Moor, which helps to keep down scrub and trees from taking over. Since no pesticides or chemicals have ever been used, the grassland is perfectly suited for all wildlife, which has seen some rare animals taking up residence. Water Voles, Red Kites, a Red Backed Shrike and some uncommon, and rare, spiders, moths and even glow worms have been seen on the Moor. There are also over 100 different species of grassland plant, some extremely rare, to be found on the site.

Making our way south west along a fairly smooth grassed path, parallel to the Ebury Way, we soon hit an obstacle. Some of the dips in the Moor, were filled with water and, although not very deep, they were wide enough to prevent the Battle Wagon from progressing. So, we backtracked slightly until we found a route. This went on as the morning progressed and the heat began to rise. Erin didn't seem to mind. She was off clambering over mounds and jumping in ditches, before running off to see what was around the next bush. All the while Keilyn slept. Slowly we made our towards the river Gade, where we sat and had a drink and a snack. Keilyn had awoken and was busy munching on a bread stick, while Erin demolished her hula hoops. The river Gade was very swollen, from the localised flood water, and was flowing at a fair speed. The water was crystal clear, allowing us to see the small fish who were harbouring at the water's edge.

[caption id="attachment_863" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Looking north along the crystal clear waters of the River Gade.[/caption]

With time getting on, and the girls suitably nourished, we turned North and headed back along the river Gade. We exited the Moor via its northern entrance, crossing the bridge across the river Gade and followed the path to the Grand Union Canal. The water level in the Grand Union Canal was so high that it was pouring over the top of the lock, which I had never seen it do before.

[caption id="attachment_864" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The Lock at Croxley Common Moor struggles to hold back the water.[/caption]

We then followed the canal, passed Byewaters, towards the weir. Since we had a few bread sticks left, Erin decided to feed them to the Canada geese, ducks and Swans, saving the last one for her little sister. Bless her.

[caption id="attachment_861" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Never have I seen the weir flowing with so much water.[/caption]

From here we made a slight detour. Instead of following Blackmoor Lane, towards home, we took Beggars Bush Lane, just because I thought it would be different. This brought us under the old bridge that carried the Watford to Croxley rail line, which ceased in 1996, allowing me to get some photographs.

[caption id="attachment_862" align="aligncenter" width="180"] One of the old bridges that hasn't seen a train since 1996.[/caption]

We then turned out on to Watford Road, then crossed Ascot Road, which brought us out just minutes from home. With Erin beginning to flag (she had walked about 3 miles, which isn't bad for a two year-old) she got back into the Battle Wagon, much to its groaning, and I pushed them the final distance home.

All in all it was a great morning out.

Memories of Dad - Update

Further to my post, 'Memories of Dad', my mum managed to dig out one of the photos that my dad took of me, in about 1981-82.

[caption id="attachment_799" align="aligncenter" width="209"] This is a photograph that my dad took of me, when I was about 9-10.[/caption]

Also she found one of the copies of the 'Daily Sun' newspaper, in which my dad wrote a column about our visit, to Prague.

[caption id="attachment_797" align="aligncenter" width="208"] The front page of Issue 133 of the Daily Sun.[/caption]

The 'Daily Sun' newspaper was published every business day in Prague and was aimed at the ex-pats in the city. The paper was just eight pages, two of which were the centre pages which was a simple, easy to follow map of 'The Best Places to go in Prague'.

[caption id="attachment_798" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The map of Prague, which could be found on the centre pages of the Daily sun.[/caption]

Issue 133 was published on Monday, September 22nd 1997 and covered Czech news, World Watch, What's On Guide, Tips for Today, Business News and Sports News.

The piece that my dad wrote for this issue was a small column named, 'Prague Today'. The following is what he wrote about my visit with Alysha, who was a month shy of turning two.

Having been in Prague for a while there is a danger that you start to take things for granted. Having been here a number of years I am probably as guilty of this as anyone.
However, during the last few days I have seen the city from a different perspective... One from a height of about three feet.
When my son announced he was bringing my vnucka to see me, my first thoughts were of panic.
How would I accommodate them in my busy schedule of work, work and more work that is required to produce the 'Daily Sun'?
Well so far since they arrived, I have visited the zoo, toured the castle properly and spent more time in parts of the Old Town, not just the various bars I have been known to visit, but also the more cultural points, than in all the time I have been here. It has been an eye-opener to observe how a smaller person deals with the problems of life in the city. Steps onto trams and buses are high, escalators go too fast.
I have also noticed that there are very few facilities in this town for the necessary accommodation that a young person often needs during a day in town. What facilities do exist tend to be within the precincts of the ladies rooms. This can be somewhat of a disadvantage to a male with a young person. The castle, however, has a changing area apart from the normal conveniences.
One bright point of my tours with Alysha has been the number of admiring glances I seem to get from females, mostly previously unknown to me. Of course I realise that they are really directed at the youngster who, to be fair, tends to smile back.
I have a few more days to better get to know my vnucka before she returns home, as she has to get to know her dadacek. I look forward to it.
Having the thought of people waiting for you focuses the mind. I am finishing earlier in the evenings, which as long as it continues after she has returned home, will be a long-term benefit of the visit. - Joe Morrissey

Memories of Dad

My relationship with my dad wasn't perfect. But, is anyone's relationship with a parent perfect? Throughout his life my dad had many jobs, including; reporter, cab driver, photographer, web designer, newspaper editor, barman, computer programmer, milkman and many other occupations that I shall probably never know. I do know that he loved Chelsea Football Club (naming his own web design company CWD). He loved his cricket and was a member of the Marylebone Cricket Club. He loved reading novels by such authors as Wilbur Smith, Clive Cussler, Frederick Forsyth and the like. I had always been a lover of books and these novels, which I would read when dad was busy, probably are the reason that I got in to the authors that I like; Robert Ludlum, David Morrell, Eric Van Lustbader and many more.

I remember the odd visit, where he would take me to see his sister, Deirdre, and my cousins Sean and Katherine, in Nottingham, where I would spend the night or weekend. When there I remember an old book about the adventures of Robin Hood, (What else when staying in Nottingham?), which I would read at night. Or he would take me to Great Missenden to see his mum or his other sister, Maureen.

I also remember countless weekends hanging over the fence, at the end of our garden, waiting for him to arrive, many of which he didn't show up for. Not that it stopped me from waiting in the cold or heat. The rain or snow. It must have driven my mum mad. Back then we didn't have a house phone and mobiles were still a part of Star Trek, so there was no way of him contacting us. (Unless we were at nan's house, as she had a bright red 'Bat-phone', as I called it.)

One of the earliest memories that does stick in my mind was a Bank Holiday Monday, where my dad took me to London. I don't remember much about the day, except being around a crowd of people and my dad talking to lots of strangers, with cameras and notepads. It was years later that I found out that he had taken me close to Princes Gate. (The date having been May 5th, 1980, where the S.A.S. stormed the Iranian Embassy, to end the hostage situation.)

Another day out was to Euston Tower, London, to see the Capital Radio bus and meet the DJs. This was back when it was still 'Capital Radio 194'. I remember getting a car sticker that dad let me keep, which I stuck to my bedroom window. I didn't have the heart to tell my dad that I only listened to Radio 1, at the time, so I had o idea who anyone was.

I remember that my dad was very keen on photography, at one point, and arrived at my mums house to take my photo. I was still in my school uniform and remember being sat at tour pine dining table, with a hardback book, while my dad took my picture. (I believe my mum may still have the print.) Which reminds me: In 1976, when I was 4, Prince Charles came to Watford to officially open the Charter Place Shopping Centre. He arrived via helicopter, which landed in Cassiobury Park, where my dad and I were waiting. The only part of this event, that I remember, was my dad hoisting me on to his shoulders, handing me his camera (one of those big, heavy 35mm cameras with changeable lenses) and telling me to get a shot of 'the future king'. Apparently, I managed to take one photo of the grass and one of someone's legs. (Possibly those of Prince Charles, but I doubt it.)

There was also a trip to Ireland, where I spent a holiday with all of my cousins; Sean, Katherine, Amanda and Joshua. It was spent near Kenmare, Kerry, and was brilliant. Towards the end of the holiday, while my cousins and I were playing in the garden, of nannie's bungalow, a car pulled up and out of it stepped my dad. The holiday just got a bit better.

Another memory which sticks in my mind, was when Watford Football Club had got through to the FA Cup Final, at Wembley, where they would be playing (and ultimately losing to) Everton. My uncle Ian and his then girlfriend, Debra, had cued up all night to get us tickets, when my dad called to say that he had got me a ticket. Of course, not appreciating what Ian and Debra had gone through, I opted to go with my dad. This didn't go down well and so I went with my mum, uncle Ian, Debra and whoever else came along. The day is still vivid in my mind; We met at the Duke of York, Croxley, before heading to the tube station and making our way to Wembley. It was possibly my uncle Ian who gave me a beer on the train (I was only 14 at the time.) It had already been arranged that the following day, regardless of who won, my dad would pick me up from home and take me to see the Watford Football Club players, on their parade bus, down St. Albans Road. And, sure enough, he did. We stood in the R.A.C. offices, where he worked, and watched as the triumphant losers slowly passed us on the street below. (It turns our that it was fortuitous that I didn't go to the match with my dad, as he was running late and missed much of the first half.)

Now, before we go any further, I was a fussy eater. If ever my dad, or mum, took me out for lunch it was difficult for them. If we went to McDonald's, Wendy's or Huckleberry's, then I had to have a plain burger. That meant no onion, gherkin, special sauce, lettuce or tomato. I would only eat the burger in a bun. Forget Chinese or Pizza, too. It wasn't that I didn't like them. I hadn't even tried not them not to like them. In 1986, I began taking Karate lessons under the tutelage of Sensei Andrew Moss. It was with him that I would try my first pizza. And it was lovely. Obviously, once my mum found out, I tried everything. Mum took me for a Chinese and suddenly my world opened up. Suddenly, Cream of Tomato Soup (Heinz, by the way) was not the only flavour! There were a myriad of foods that I tried and thoroughly enjoyed. So, you can imagine on a visit with my dad, soon after this, that when it reached lunchtime, my dad suggested a burger, to which I replied, 'I would rather have a pizza.' I can still see the look on his face, even now. We did go for a pizza that day, too.

Most trips, with my dad, ended up in London, which is probably why I love visiting the city so much. My first proper walk around London was from Aldgate to 'The Blind Beggar' pub. My dad had always been interested in the Kray's and other aspects of East End London. But, we would also go to the Duxford Air Museum, Hendon Aviation Museum or one of the many museums in London. There were also occasions when I would spend the day with him at work. Sometimes I would sit in the cab office, making sure that the drivers had enough coffee and biscuits. Other times I might be out with him for an entire day, doing a multi-drop courier route, in a delivery van. One thing was always certain. We would invariably end up in a pub. Be it the Railway Arms, The Red Lion, The Tantivy, The Bedford Arms, The Coachmakers Arms, The Three Tuns or all others in between.

Sometime in the mid 80s, my dad, being a member of the MCC, suggested going to see a match at Lord's. We chose one of the one-day internationals and we had a great day out. I met him in the Warner Stand, and it was from here that we watched the first half of the day's play. During the lunch break, dad took me into the Pavilion itself, where I got to look at all the memorabilia, before he took me into the Long Room. It was while we were in the Long Room that the teams came out for the rest of the days play. It was a great moment, watching the England greats passing me, on their way to the field. We watched the rest of the match from the Tavern Stand. To make the day even better, we were seen on the highlights show, the following morning on BBC2.

 

Myself, with my mum, dad and daughter, Alysha.

In 1986, I had been out with dad for the day when he suggested going to the cinema. Having a look through the listings he suggested 'The Fourth Protocol', with Michael Caine, but he could tell that I wasn't too interested in that. I suggested 'Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home', to which he agreed. I know that he wasn't in the slightest bit interested and had no idea about the previous movies, but it was a chance to show him what I liked. This was the first and last time we went to the cinema, together.

My dad had always had an interest in computers and worked for the Burroughs Corporation which, in 1986, bought the Sperry mainframe  company. The two companies merged, becoming Unisys. He wrote programmes and software, for Unisys, until he was made redundant in the early 90s. I remember two of the buildings where he worked. The first was Astronaut House in Feltham, Middlesex. The second was the Octagon, in Slough. When Unisys first moved in to the Octagon, my dad was in charge getting the building ready to be occupied. This included the layout of the desks and tables. Partitions and offices. Power points and phone lines. One weekend we went to the Octagon, so that he could show me how it was shaping up. Seeing the open-plan floor gradually turning into a working office was quite cool. So-much-so that I got to set out an entire room, the way that I would like it. It takes some skill to create space from an empty room, while filling it up with furniture. But it was fun.

Like many people in the 1990s, my dad had trouble finding work, so he left the UK and headed for Prague, in the Czech Republic. He was soon working as a reporter for the Central European Business Weekly, before becoming the assistant editor for the Daily Sun, an 8-page glossy English language newspaper for ex-pats.

He visited me in 1995, when he came to see my daughter, his granddaughter, Alysha. In September of 1997 I travelled to Prague, with Alysha, to visit him. Although he spent most of the week working, he still spent time with us, showing us the sights. Charles Bridge, Wenceslas Square, Old Town Square, Prague Castle, Prague Zoo and more. Getting around Prague was fairly simple, as it only has three underground lines and a great tram and bus system. I think Alysha and I must have walked through the majority of the city, as there was no point in taking the train as we would miss everything. There were many pubs and bars that you could take food into, so feeding Alysha was no issue. My favourite pub, that we found, was O'Che's. An old Cuban bar that had been bought by an Irish couple. The only change to the décor was the changing of a mural of Che Guevara. They simply repainted his shirt from red to green, Then we would go and explore, while he disappeared off to edit the paper. To fill up column space my dad wrote a few articles, throughout the week, about Alysha, which were amusing. I think my mum still has copies of these issues, which I will have to borrow. A couple of times we visited his office, which was small but, was more than enough for him and his colleagues.

A few years later, my dad moved back to England, staying with us for a while, before moving on. He took a job as a milkman, before going back to working for Luckett's Taxi's. I was working as a bouncer in Rickmansworth, at the time, and would travel to the Luckett's office, after work on a Friday evening. My dad would be up in the office, while I was downstairs taking the bookings and making sure that the right passengers went in the correct order. It was fun and something different to do.

Pretty soon my dad moved to Bratislava, in Slovakia, to work on a number of newspapers, These were the Slovak Irish News (Editor), Slovak Irish Business Network (Executive Director) and Business Slovakia (Managing Editor). He conducted many sports interviews and reported on other areas, outside of his expertise, which led him to be part of the Press Tech. Staff at the Bush / Putin Summit in 2005. I did get to see him, on the occasional visit to England, but not very often.

 

My dad waiting in the snow for Presidents Bush and Putin, 2005.

In June, 2009, my dad suffered a heart attack or stroke, while in Bratislava, but was unaware of this himself. It was a friend of his that noticed that something was wrong. He flew back into East Midlands Airport in the middle of June, where he was taken, by his sister Deirdre, to A+E at the Queen's Medical Centre, Nottingham. On June 25th, I travelled to Nottingham to see him. He had been given an operation to remove some blood clots near his heart and legs. He was scheduled for an operation to remove his legs, as the tissue had become necrotic, but his health had deteriorated too much to risk surgery. He was given antibiotics to help him, but this didn't seem to work. I travelled to Nottingham, at least once a week, to see him and find out what his options were. The diagnosis wasn't looking good. I went to see him on Saturday 11th July, where we discussed the double amputation, of his legs, that was scheduled for the 13th. Unfortunately, his heart wouldn't stand the strain of a double amputation, so there was nothing that could be done for him, except to make him comfortable. My dad passed away on Sunday 19th July, with his mother and his sister Deirdre, by his side.

There are other memories that I have forgotten or omitted, but, in the end, I do have good memories of him.

 

My dad, on St. Patrick's Day in Bratislava.

Joseph Anthony Gerard Morrissey

January 31, 1951 - July 19, 2009

Gunning FOG Index

I have been reading novels and books for as long as I can remember, but until Monday (2nd), I had never heard of the Gunning FOG Index. So, I set out to discover more about it.

This Index was created by Robert Gunning, an American publisher of textbooks, who observed that many of his high school graduates were unable to read. However, he soon discovered that it wasn't because of illiteracy but because there was too much unnecessary complexity, or fog, in the text, which hindered their progress. Forming the first consulting firm specialising in readability, in 1944, Robert Gunning worked with more than sixty daily newspapers and popular magazines, aiding their editors to write to their target audience by using his FOG Index Readability Formula. Robert Gunning published a book, The Technique of Clear Writing and created an easy-to-use FOG Index, in 1952.

The FOG Index works on a scale of 1 - 12, with 1 being the simplest and 12 being the hardest to read.

To give you an idea of the FOG Index for different publications:

Time Magazine, Newsweek and the Wall Street Journal - about 11

Reader's Digest - between 8-9

The Bible, Mark Twain and William Shakespeare - about 6

The equation for the FOG Index or Readability Formula is below:

1. Take a sample passage of at least 100-words and count the number of exact words and sentences.


2. Divide the total number of words in the sample by the number of sentences to arrive at the Average Sentence Length (ASL).


3. Count the number of words of three or more syllables that are NOT (1) proper nouns, (2) combinations of easy words or hyphenated words, or (3) two-syllable verbs made into three with -es and -ed endings.


4. Divide this number by the number or words in the sample passage. For example, 25 long words divided by 100 words gives you 25 Percent Hard Words (PHW).


5. Add the ASL from Step 2 and the PHW from Step 4.


6. Multiply the result by 0.4.

Readability Level = 0.4 (ASL + PHW) 

Here is a link to an on-line Gunning FOG Index calculator.

http://gunning-fog-index.com/index.html

It is quite a fascinating area and, if you like writing as much as I do, it can help you to reach your target audience. It is not, however, an exact science or perfect formula, but it does give you a very good idea as to your writing level and your reading level. I tried it out on a passage from Lou Morgan's The Patron Saint of Wishful Thinking, and found it had a readability level of 8-9.