Left a good job in the city

So a Tory peer has come out as a non dom. Presumably he's therefore a sub, like the rest of the Tory peers?

I have to write about this - I need to get it out of my system.

Most of us make friends among the people we work with. As a consultant, a lot of the people I work with, therefore some of my work friends, are clients; now ex-clients. I have been to two weddings and a 50th birthday in the recent past of ex-clients.

This post is about a specific client, who I invited to my 40th, but he forgot to come. When we noticed during lunch that his and his wife's places were empty, I called him, and he rushed over with his 2 year old, sans wife, slightly apologetic. I was a bit miffed that he hadn't even bothered to remember, and barely bothered to apologise when he got here, but put it down to general slackness.

I just met him for a drink this afternoon, and he presented me with my birthday present. This is where the fun really starts.

The present consisted of three books. One of the books - a restaurant guide - had his company logo on the front (he works for one of SA's biggest companies): it is clearly a freebie to dish out to clients. I noticed this, but let it slide. As we were talking about one of the others, he picked it up to flick through it, then noticed a page glued inside the front cover, which he proceeded to tear out carefully: "oops, I'll just remove this". Clearly the page bore the legend "with the compliments of XX ltd.", and was a present he had received from some other company. So of the three books, one he had bought, and two were things he had lying around his office. He didn't seem to be particularly embarrassed by the whole affair. The more I think about it, the sadder it seems.

I'm not cross with him; perhaps I should be. I'm bloody pissed off with myself for bothering to invite him to my 40th, which was otherwise full of people who really wanted to be there, as far as I could tell. Meanwhile he's banging on about his latest property ventures, and I reckon his wife has had a face lift, so he's not exactly skint. Where to from here?!?

I have been doing a fair bit of running recently, spurred by the milestone birthday that I’ve just passed, and trying to get fit. The problem is that I have also been concurrently celebrating that birthday in the usual fashion. I am now happily fit, fat and forty. Onwards and upwards, the next challenge is a marathon. Here in South Africa, marathons are a bit commonplace, with ultra marathons a little more impressive, but someone of my size and age has to start somewhere. I am now entered for the London Marathon – the Virgin London Marathon – which is an appropriate brand, since I am a marathon virgin. This will be my first, and maybe even last attempt at 42km, so I want to make it worthwhile, and to give myself an added incentive. That’s where you come in, because you are going to sponsor me. Yes you are.

I am running in aid of the Red Cross. They are the people you see clearing up the mess, picking up the pieces, and reaching out to those in need. You’ve heard of them because they have been around for ever, and they are everywhere, but that’s only because people like you support them. The majority of their income is voluntarily given. You have to exercise your fingers, click here, and make your donation. Whether it’s the price of a round of drinks, dinner, or the restaurant, it’s a help. Do it now, please – if I don’t make my target they’ll make me run back to the start again.

I've set up a sponsorhip page on the Virgin Money Giving site. My target is to raise 1800 quid, so please help if you can. Virgin are sponsoring the marathon, and their site allows you to claim Gift Aid if you are a UK taxpayer, i.e. the government has to give back the tax on your donation. Virgin don't take any fee, so everything you give and more goes to the right place.

I'm going to need all the motivation I can get, so if you thnk I should be breaking four hours, say, then feel free to incentivise me with an additional performance pledge.

Go now to sponsor me. Please!

Holy crap! The Red Cross just called to tell me that they have accepted me to be one of their runners in the London Marathon in April. I'm chuffed to bits, and terrified all at once. Sponsorship details will be going up here soon - so start saving. I can't believe how fast it's all happened - I only sent them an application a few days ago.

Now all I have to do is train...

Number one son is too young, even at the advanced age of nine and a half, to have been exposed to all the cynicism of the world, or to have heard all the adages of the ages. I do my bit on the grumpy old cynic front, but some things you have to learn for yourself. He's been trying to teach the dog to fetch. He started by throwing bits of food. The next step was to put the food into an old tennis ball with a slit in it so she'll chase it. The tricky part seems to be persuading her to bring the ball back rather than just attempting to shred it. He perseveres, and has even been googling the topic. Kids today, huh?

It's only a cliche because it's true: you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

In other news: one of the goldfish has died. It may have something to do with the hug that number two son gave it when we got it home. Tough love. There was no funeral this time - the fish is shortly to be landfill. It seems that the kids don't get attached to the fish either.

Good morning to anyone who has come here from Jonny B's place. Sorry it's a bit messy - haven't been around much lately. I hope you enjoy my growing police car collection.

If you haven't come from Jonny's, then what are you waiting for?

...and he's got no seatbelt on. You'll have to take my word for it, but you can see the absence of any line from the door pillar to his shoulder. Still working on a better one.