Nifty at 50

By Anthony A. Newman

Wow... really!!! Have I actually already got to the age of 50? Where has the time flown by?

This book charters my, so far amazing life. I talk about my good times and bad and which contains a few real truths and with that comes to include some honesty, but thankfully it's also about the happier moments and the funnier times. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9783755422112

Book preview

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Preface

I try to never look forward. I mean, yes to tomorrow, to next week, to the next holiday. I’m saying, I never look forward in life. It’s an unchartered journey, largely unknown and deeply mysterious. Full of darkness, ruts in the road, uncertainty and probably also perilous in nature. Its mere prediction, and with it, all the possible thoughts that could occur, fill me with dread and trepidation of what may yet come next. Yet, it’s a road we are all destined to travel; regardless if we are all gleefully wanting to avoid it or not.

Thankfully I don’t need to embark into the future too often. Why should I, when my past has been, well mostly colourful, and my present is pretty darn fine and alright also!

Life’s never all been easy; in fact, why should it be? It’s a challenge, a puzzle, a chance to emit at times every emotion in a single minute. It keeps us enthralled, entertained, seemingly wanting more, and is a constant giver, but also at times a painful taker.

Life is a highway, and sometimes we travel it at a million miles an hour, and at other moments it meanders fairly pedestrian. It’s what propels us; the thought of a new adventure, a new occasion, or a new moment is what makes the journey a constant travelogue to our lives with continued momentum.

It’s astounding to me that this journey has taken me so far half a century to unravel itself. Even writing that just sent a chill down my back. Half a century…. holey moley! Where the bloody heck have all those years gone, I wonder to myself?

It’s easy for me to conjure up a memory, several memories, and with it so many glorious defining moments in my life. Yet, to think of fifty years of all these such memories seems especially an arduous task. Thank heavens for the likes of Kodak and for the ability to record our lives in photo and film.

Over the last few months I have been recounting memories of when I was young, thoughts that have forever stayed with me; yet are deep in my mind and rarely only visited; until now. I recall the memories of my family as they were back then, and, of course, my younger self. I think of the environment I lived in and the people who filled my days, as well as my experiences with them. I often smile looking back, for I had little really to ever feel down.

I smile for the person I was, and largely still am; although like everything, things have changed, and none more so than especially people.

I often think of the moments that made an indelible impact on me. The times in my life that gave me a reason to feel happy and content and joyful. There were some moments which are also painfully sad, desperately so, yet everything I have ever been through, good or bad, now I feel defines me.

You don’t get to be fifty without suffering a few grazes, bruises and blemishes along the way. As time moves on, you don’t forget about them, but you just grass over them like moss would sometimes surround a patio. You know it’s there, but life is warts and all, and even though few like moss to ever grow, you know it’s just part of the bigger garden of your life that we are all part of.

Like everybody, I have met some incredible people. People who have shaped my life and some who have left an undeniable mark on my soul. I am grateful for knowing them, for they have forever enriched me as a person. I have fed off their brilliance, been warmed by their love, benefitted from their support, regaled in their kindness, and this semi-centurion never takes any of all that for granted. Ever.

If I could sum my life up in just one word, it would definitely be, Luck.

How lucky I have been to have lived a life where I have enjoyed being part of the picture. How lucky I have been to have become the foreground in people’s lives, as well as the backdrop to many others. What luck it has been to have had parents who are still married and who still love each other, and who have given me, and others, more love than you couldn’t think was humanly possible to give. What luck it has been to have had the good fortune to have travelled the world, been to over eighty countries, and witnessed the wonder and heartbreak this planet spins within. What luck I have found in a career that has enabled me to live the life I love. What luck it is, that I realise that everything I have I have for a reason and that I never take any of it for granted. What luck it is to have a son who looks up to me and admires what I have achieved. What luck it is to know that all I have strived for all my life, is something that I realise is a product of both my successes, as well as, at times, my failures. What luck it is to have met and married a woman, who I not only adore but respect and that we are so compatible with each other. What luck that I still have my health, when I look around me and realise that others have sadly lost theirs.

I have lived nothing but a lucky life, and as I have gotten older, so has my increase in this awareness also grown with me.

I don’t want to give you the impression that I have lived in this rose-coloured utopia forever; neither do I want to paint a picture that my life has been dystopian either. There is no sugar-coated crispness to any life all the time, and that for sure includes my own.

You see, I believe that to appreciate true happiness, one must previously have felt deep and resounding pain. Despite this overwhelming luck I have mentioned, I have also been to some dark places; but thankfully, and again luckily, not for too long or indeed, too often.

I just want you to know as I put my hand on my heart and say, that this is an honest account of my first fifty years. It's humorous and, to some revealing. I hope you enjoy it.

So please, sit back, relax and read the picture of my life which contains many colours, and fortunately, most of them have been bright and fairly spectacular at times.

Anthony A. Newman

Andrew Anthony Haire

Jersey, 2022

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Childhood till First Job

I wouldn’t call it a farm; although we did have chickens and before that pigs. We also grew quite a lot of fruit and vegetables; some of which were sold to hotels, especially in the summer months when tourists were plentiful on the island.

  I lived in a country setting, in a far-flung corner of St. Brelade in south-west Jersey. My playground started off in the garden and over time increased to become literally a whole valley. Being an only child, my imagination, as well as my adventures would usually extend out as far as the confines of our own property, and often beyond that.

 My parents had built an extension, from the main house in which my grandparents and uncle lived. It was idyllic and I remember those times with much fondness. It was a little like the TV program 'The Walton's' just without far fewer children.

  My father was an accountant when I was born. He worked in an office at a textile factory, although he originally came to Jersey as a professional at La Moye Golf Club where he taught keen wannabe’s the laws and rules of the game. My father often worked long hours, and eventually, when he left the factory, he gained employment in banking where he steadily made his way up the managerial ranks.

  My earliest recollections of my country home were of playing outside making dens, or making handmade mucky mud pies on the garden wall. Sometimes my memories would be of my cousin, Martin, who lived with us for an extended time when I was younger, and more often than not we would get up to no end of mischief. One time he decided that he wanted to climb high up a ladder and onto the rusty top of a large water tank that was situated at the gable end of my grandparent's house. If his weight wouldn't hold the rusty aging tank lid, I feel the old feeble tap wouldn’t have been quick enough to have drained the water out, and therefore the chances of anyone being able to rescue him from certain drowning right there and then would have been more than likely.

  Around the same time, maybe who knows even the same day, and with my cousin narrowly dodging a watery end, we decided to venture out from the familiarity around the home and go for a bit of a walk. It must have been a warm time of the year, the summer holidays probably. My cousin and I were always up to no good, seeking out new places to go and finding stupid things to do like setting fire to ant's nests or having water fights in the brock which was situated at the front of my house.

On this one particular day, we decided to walk up to a nearby hotel swimming pool, which was just off the railway walk from where I lived. I can still see the water; even now, and the endless blue sky above reflecting in its ripples on the surface of the pool. My cousin dared me to jump in, and never being one to refuse a dare, especially back then, I instantly thought of doing it without truly knowing the depth of the water, and also without having the ability to yet swim. As I geared up to begin my foolhardy descent into the pool, I suddenly heard someone behind me shout ‘Stop!’ I quickly turned around to discover my grandfather red-faced and alarmed at what I was about to do. I never doubt it now, but he probably did save my life that day if he wouldn’t have been watching and following us. The water would have been far deeper than I had expected and my non-swimming young self would have likely been dragged under the surface, leaving me struggling to have been rescued from what would undoubtedly have been my watery end.  So there you go,