Kevin's tall tales

So I am managing to keep up with the posts on the CIPR blog and I've also posted again on TAT.

For the CIPR, I am trying to write about PR issues and events, rather than just catalogue my travels around the UK speaking at various functions.

The ThinkAboutTech site though requires me to juggle a delicate balance between someone who wants to win business from technology companies, and someone who has opinions on technology that might not always match the views of current or future clients.

Still, I've decided I'm too bloody old not to have my own point of view and if I want to express it, I reckon I am going to publish and be damned.

Pleasingly, the blogs on both sites are attracting positive comments and nobody seems to want to acccuse me of being stupid - at least not so far, though I guess I've just laid down that challenge.

Meanwhile in cold and wet England, the snow has thawed and the rain is, at times, relentless. Reckon there is no chance of any boy's football this wekend, though I am fixing the screw-in studs to Matthew's flippers just in case.

The weather and the prospect of playing football reminds me of captaining Leyton Old Boys in a match in the pouring rain on the day of the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race. Upon winning the coin toss, and as dreamed up in the changing room by myself and the redoutable Inchy... I asked the referee if we could have the Middlesex station.

Cue sniggers of laughter on our side and a bemused look on the faces of the ref and the opposing captain. Happy days.

Toodle pip!

Tails

(PS - it should go without saying that I always called Tails)

UK tax forms need to be completed and filed online by Jan 31... tonight seemed like a good day to start.

And now that it is 90 per cent done... I can happily go to bed and put off completion until tomorrow safe in the knowledge that there is also Saturday available.

And from my initial compilations and calculations, I think I may even be paying too much tax at the moment.

Of course, you always think you are paying too much tax (because you don't like seeing all that money disappear out of your pocket) but this time I think they have actually made a mistake in my code for the year and are deducting more than they should.

I can always dream. Fingers crossed dear reader, fingers crossed.

toodle pip!

Tails

So I am now actually a regular blogger and also, dare I say it also something of a twitterer...

Twitter is the micro blog that has recently gone mainstream. I find it useful at work - for the moment at least - and there are plenty of mainstream news organisations using it as a mean of telling the world what they are currently doing or publishing.

You can "find" me here

I have also been blogging fairly regularly - but sadly not on this site. I will try to do more on the site, but you can now find me musing as telecomtails on technology at thinkabouttech on and about PR on PRVoice which is my Presidential blog from the CIPR.

I promise, and you can proably tell from all the drivel I write, that both sites all my own work.

This week - on Tuesday - I had my welcome event at the CIPR HQ. Of course, I chose to call this my inauguration as it almost exactly clashed with Obama's big moment.

I didn't stumble over my words though - apart from calling one lady Jessie when her name was Josie - and I didn't have to go back the next day to attend naughty boy inauguration and do it all over again.

Disappointingly I also had to drive to work the next day without the benefit of a motorcade or any secret service out-riders - although one of my colleagues did "hum" hail to the chief as I walked in to the office.

And on Thursday, I was interviewed for PR Week and posed for some artistic photos (not that sort Alex).

Hopefully my Mum will like them.

Toodle pip!

Tails

So... here I am again, and it is time to turn over a new leaf.

As of today I am the President of the Chartered Institute of Public Relations and have now become the flag-waving official spokesperson for the UK PR industry - oh my... get him, I hear you say.

The role is a tremendous honour, involves a lot more work, but sadly is unpaid so the rewards are purely spiritual, so to speak.

I've also inherited just what I need in my life... another blog. When my first official post appears on that site (which I have written and submitted) I shall provide a link to it... but its appearance will be authorised by the web master - I may be the President, but my powers don't extend to direct posting. But I do have to keep it up to date - hence the new leaf.

So... an update on other matters for new and returning readers.

My eldest, Emma, is currently on holiday in Goa. I think she and her husband may have given up on IVF after too many failed attempts and I hope they do move on to adoption as they deserve to be parents as they are such a fantastic and happy couple. I know they are thinking about it, and I hope they get the family they so desparately deserve.

Next in line Lucie remains on the side of the angels. A young, attractive, independent single woman, working as Palliative care nurse in a London hospital, living in Pimlico, and bombing around town in her mini cooper. I'm proud of her and her lifestyle.

Then there are the children from my marriage with Debbie. Laura, Rebecca and Matthew.

Laura's a third year Maths student in a London University. She's on a four-year course so will not graduate until 2010. she's bright, articulate, independent and great company. She's also got the sports bug big-time and in addition to netball has recently turned her hand to golf.

Becky (I am not really allowed to call her Rebecca any more) is - as can be seen - also fiercely independent. She's also the most sociable of girls and makes friends everywhere and anywhere. She's in her first year of a five year Chemistry degree in Edinburgh... if that's not far enough away, in year three she is destined for Canberra.

It's been great having the two girls home for Xmas.

And then there is Matthew. He insists now on referring to me as KT (which I quitelike), he makes for amusing company when he extends beyond the teenage boy grunt mode, and he's working hard at his A levels and turning out to be a bit on the bright side really. Like me, he wears his Arsenal heart on his sleeve and we both keep looking for the positives in a string of disappointing results.

And then there is my understanding and loving wife Debbie. For 21 years now she has put up with me... even though she had to go back to work to help pay for all these kids going through university.

We are very lucky, very happy, and very proud parents.

So that's the update... and as we all button down the hatches for what could be a turbulent 2009 - I wish anyone who should chance upon this page, and my dedicated reader, all the very best for the year ahead.

Toodle pip!

Tails

So there I was, sitting in my hotel room in Damascus moaning about the lack of communication and making sweeping generalisations about organisation.

Idiot.

I think I have already pointed out how charming and courteous my hosts had been at the airport - it turns out they were considerate as well, assuming that after a delayed flight which finally arrived at 5.30 in the morning, I would want at least five or six hours of rest.

So at around 1pm the phone rang, and my hosts enquired whether I was now recovered and would like to attend a briefing meeting to discuss the conference and the role I was being asked to play.

A little later, I was picked up at the hotel and then given the five start VIP treatment from that moment on... I read my post below now and think - you ungrateful little so and so (at this point Dear Reader, those that know me will be thinking "not so little").

The conference itself was very interesting. My role was to help with the opening ceremonies, and to speak for a little while about the Chartered Institute of Public Relations, and to comment on the changing role of PR in a modern world.

The highlight for me though was an amusing prelude to my time on the stage. As I was sitting in the front row waiting for the event to begin, a man was ushered into the seat beside me. I stood up to shake his hand and our host introduced me as Mr Kevin from CIPR and quickly moved on.

A short while later, I noticed a gaggle of photographers taking pics of me, and my new companion on the front row.

I leaned across and introduced myself again, rather more formally. "I'm Kevin Taylor, and I'm the President elect of the CIPR and we have helped to establish this PR Diploma course here in Syria."

"Very good," he replied. "I'm the deputy Prime Minister".

"I think the photographers are for you then," was my lame retort.

"Maybe after they hear you speak, they will be for you," was his charming answer.

So, firmly in my place, I said my piece and despite my performance, the event went off very smoothly.

Damascus is a fascinating place and a great mix of cultures. The old town was redolent in history - after all, it can claim to be the oldest continually inhabited city on the earth. The food was good, and the market (or Souk) was colourful, lively and interesting. I got the chance to go exploring briefly on Saturday and Sunday afternoon and at no time did I feel threatened.

The hospitality, kindness and consideration I was shown throughout my time there turned out to be first class.

A little more communication before I arrived would have been good - but I discovered that one man had tried to organise this whole event himself in about four or five weeks and - given the scale of the task - it is a small miracle that he pulled off a conference with some 300 delegates and an excellent line up of speakers.

So... no more jumping to conclusions for me... the blog below remains in place as a reminder to me of easy it is to open your mouth and put your foot in it... so to speak.

Toodle Pip!

Tails

So after a long long absence from blog-land, I make a return - in the morning, rather than late at night.

Haven't you got better things to do on a Saturday morning, I hear you ask?

Well - not yet today. I'm writing this blog from a hotel room in Damascus, Syria. I arrived six hours ago in the early hours of the morning and I'm waiting for instructions that I despair will ever arrive, from my hosts - an international training academy.

I'm here, as Pres-elect of the Chartered Institute of Public Relations, to talk about communications at their conference tomorrow; and congratulate some winners of a diploma accredited by the CIPR.

They do need help communicating - sweeping generalisation, I know, but true nevertheless in my, so far, limited experience.

I was invited out here early in May, but it appeared at first sight that no flights or hotel were involved in the offer. I accepted, booked flights and hotel, and advised my hosts when I was arriving and leaving, on which flights and my hotel details.

A short while after that, I discovered that my hosts had booked me onto the same flight... I now had two business class tickets to Damascus. I cancelled mine.

I was due to fly on Friday evening, so on Wednesday I tried to check out my booking online to see if I needed to supply any info as I had not flown with this particular airline internationally.

I couldn't find the booking online, so called - and yes - my second seat had also been cancelled.

I contacted the travel agent in Damascus that had made the booking; and they confirmed they had cancelled it, but it was OK, they had booked me another flight, business class, with Syrian Airways. The only thing was, this flight booking, made without any attempt to check with me, was for Thursday morning. I declined the offer; and pointed out that if I had not tried to check out my original flight, I would have been an absent passenger on a plane on Thursday and they would have paid for a ticket for no reason.

After an attempt to put me on a Friday morning, two hop, business class flight was also turned down; I was re-booked onto my original flight but now economy class as business was - 1: too expensive at the last moment; and 2 - Full anyway.

At Heathrow airport last night, I phoned my hotel in Damascus and arranged a transfer from the airport.

Of course, on arriving in Damascus, two people were waiting with signs bearing my name. One from the hotel I had booked. One booked by my hosts to take me to the hotel they had booked, again without actually telling me.

The two drivers argued briefly; I volunteered to go with my hosts (it seemed the polite thing to do) but was over-ruled. The greeter from my hosts was charm and kindness personified. He sorted out my bags; handled immigration where I found myself being ushered through the diplomatic channel no less, and took me to the car of my own hotel, saying he would alert my hosts - and other colleagues so that they knew where I was staying.

In fact, everybody I have met so far has been absolutely charming, eager to help and please.

I'm looking forward to strolling around the city (reputed to be the oldest continuously inhabited city on the world) and exploring some of the sights, sounds and tastes. I just don't yet know where I supposed to be, who I am supposed to meet, or how to contact them.

I have a couple of email addresses that I have sent notes to, but other than that I am in the dark. I do know the conference I am speaking at is tomorrow, in the morning - so there's time for this to all be sorted... and I'm sure it will.

In the meantime... I blog... and dear reader, I shall probably blog again later today or tomorrow.

Toodle pip!

Tails

The mobile world congress in Barcelona in February was quite an event for us. We had some 18 clients at the show and did good work for them all - we dominated the coverage on CNN and made some good friends.

After the show, the family joined me for a few days in the City and we did the sites - the sagrada familia, the nou camp, parc montjuic, parc guell were all pretty amazing.

And what a pleasure the public transport system was - fast reliable and frequent. Our apartment was by the old port and we had dinner one night in very old restaurant called Seven Portes. It was excellent and not spoiled by the spectacular tantrum thrown at the table next to us by a highly strung women having dinner with an older man.

They both looked expensively well dressed. He was American and I think embarrassed that we could understand the argument. She was European, spoke spanish and english pretty well but I don't think she was from either country.

He stayed very calm throughout the histronics. There was a marvellous moment when she was playing with her mobile phone and he asked for some sugar which she literally threw at him... he asked not to do that and to pass the sugar "like a lady" and then asked why she was playing with her phone - her flounced reply was that she was just "too angry to even look at him - this is all I can do."

We don't know what he had done - the tantrum seemed to erupt out of nothing, but it was theatrical, over the top and highly amusing, as long as you were not on the receiving end.

I enjoyed a tantrum free meal with my lovely wife Debbie as we celebrated her birthday and Valentine's day with a good dinner without the children.

Toodle pip!

Tails