Paying love and kindness forward - How the world should work

'Be one of the good guys'. That's one of only two life rules I give our young sons, (the other being 'work hard'. Not sure how good I was at that when school age). 'Be one of the good guys' plays well I think as an overall philosophy, but also as a parent, it works suitably loosely when I need to haul them over the coals for any - rare of course - transgressions. These two rules might not make them rich, but I'm hoping it will make them, and others, happy. Far more important in my book.

Yesterday, on Valentine's Day Eve, I received a fabulous note, via a stranger on LinkedIn of all places, reminding me of a kind, 'go the extra mile' gesture I had made over twenty years ago. At the time I worked for Disneyland Paris, as I had done since it opened in 1992. It was a magical, surreal time in my life, and on a daily basis I was able to do and witness amazing things. A hug with Tigger; a quick roller-coaster ride in my lunchtime; watching show rehearsals and testing new rides before any guest got anywhere near them; meeting 'A list' celebs, and Z list ones too, (most of them nice, honest); drinking gallons of Long Island Iced Tea in a Country 'n Western saloon in the presence of genuine cowboys and native Americans. Yeehah!

I had completely forgotten, but the message on LinkedIn was from a US-based chap. He was letting me know that I had organised for him to access an out-of-bounds balcony, (also after park closing, equally naughty!) at the iconic 'Chateau de la Belle au Bois Dormant. This gesture, doubtless breaking countless rules along the way, allowed Eugene to propose to his then girlfriend. 21+ years on, and with their 20th wedding anniversary looming, he was letting me know what I had helped him do, and what it had led to. I was incredibly touched that he found me and contacted me after all this time, and very moved to hear what a special memory I had contributed to.

Life as a disabled person, life with a progressive illness is tough beyond words, but I try to convey it as best I can. You'll read in the newspapers and online, on social media and via our shouty campaigning about what we are missing, what we are losing, what injustices we are subjected to. This is painfully true and I'll continue to scream it. But the other absolute truth is that millions of people out there are capable of overwhelming selflessness, thoughtfulness and kind gestures. Without these people in the world we would struggle to last a day.

Only late last year, a dear friend of mine launched a Crowdfunding campaign to buy me a funky off-road wheelchair worth a stupid amount of money. Donations piled in, and by January, the target was smashed! There were some amazingly high single contributions by individuals and companies, (thank you!). But I was equally touched by the many 'Anons' who contributed, or friends of friends and total strangers who did so. Or those who clearly couldn't afford it and shouldn't really have felt it necessary to help. But they still did. (Thanks in spades, thank you all!).

I understand that governments and oil and business and banking and corporations and all that malarkey are a big part of what makes the world go round. But rather than buying into Bitcoin, I would prefer to invest in kindness and empathy, as I have always aspired to. On second thoughts, maybe I'll invest in Bitcoin too, so we can contribute to other fabulous Crowdfunding causes.

Please be one of the good guys, the payback can be enormous... (Feels a bit preachy, sorry. I'm on a mini high thanks to Eugene, Sleeping Beauty's Castle, and a wacky wheelchair with a red seat that is on order.)

And they all lived differently ever after

Once upon a time (exactly 25 years ago in fact), 12,000 young, enthusiastic and adventurous people descended on a mysterious location one hour east of Paris. And all these youngsters were magically transformed into 'cast members' by passing through a special little school called Disney University. We came out smiling and laughing, excited about a wondrous new place about to open called EuroDisney. We were immortal.

And lots of us were given jobs like room-cleaning, popcorn-selling and heating up french fries. Some of us got super lucky and landed once-in-a-lifetime jobs like driving a steam train, playing a famous character and dancing in parades, performing as real live cowboy, or looking after VIPs and celebrities.

I landed that last job. I genuinely did have a wonderful other-worldly experience in the company of the likes of Gloria Estefan, Kevin Costner, Clint Eastwood, Eva Gabor. And Michael Jackson. Here's me front left in a garish blue uniform, and MJ hiding at the back after we mobbed him with dozens of characters and a marching band.

Also in the picture is the best Mary Poppins I ever met. She was played by Ali Flavell, cheeky and in character enough to turn to Michael Jackson and ask earnestly, "And who might you be young man?" He loved it...

We were having a whale of a time. Or so we thought.
Ali (aka a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Mary Poppins) was about to be diagnosed with a brain tumour, whilst I was showing the first, mild signs of multiple sclerosis. Ali underwent some seriously aggressive treatment back in the UK, and made a pretty good recovery after six months of rehab. Meanwhile. I blundered on, oblivious to the ticking time bomb in my brain and spine, the protective sheath around my central nervous system being quietly chipped away by my own immune system.

I wasn't diagnosed with MS until 15 years later, Ali started getting unsteady on her feet over time as the ravages of her radiotherapy treatment kicked in. Both of us are now in wheelchairs.

12th April 2017, Ali and I met again at the 25th anniversary celebrations of EuroDisney (now Disneyland Paris.) Here we are, neither of us any good on our feet, but both happy as Larry. For the avoidance of doubt, I'm the one on the left, and she's the pretty one on the right.

Life goes on. Both of us are married, both of us are parents to two boys. I live a happy, if very different life to the one I imagined. And in times of doubt, I fear very much for what my future holds. I can't talk directly for Ali, but every single pic I see her in, she has a beaming smile. And when I talked to her last week, she was full of plans for the future. And just like 25 years ago, she remains blessed with an enormous sense of fun.

I came away elated from bumping into Mary Poppins again, and more determined than ever to live life to the full. Who knows what's around the corner? We're both rather better off than Michael Jackson after all...

It's a start...

Bounding into 2017 with a blog. Just as I intended to in 2016. And 2015 for that matter. Possibly 2014. Start as you mean to go on and all that!

Big anniversaries, nasty and nice, for me this year.

25 years since I was a proud 'cast member' of the Opening Crew of EuroDisney, now Disneyland Paris. My first job there was looking after 'A' List celebrities, as you do. Michael Jackson, Gloria Estefan, Kevin Costner, Clint Eastwood, Eva Gabor. An endless bank of stories and memories there. And yes, in answer to your question, Michael was weird. I'm taking the family back there for the 25-year bash, 12th April. I'm super-excited about that, with lots of ex-colleagues I haven't seen for a decade or more. Not looking forward to rolling up in a wheelchair though...
I'm in front in the classy blue jacket. MJ is skulking at the back... Young, shy, and very very famous... (him, not me...)

25 years too since the first Multiple Sclerosis symptoms sneaked into my life. I can recall the exact moment and the exact spot in my home French village, Esbly, when I was struck with intense pins and needles down my left-hand side. 'Daggers and nails' would have been a better description. They stayed for three horrible, exhausting days. Then disappeared as quickly as they had attacked me. I was a bloke and in my 20's so of course I ignored it. A crap bladder quickly emerged in the following months. But living in France I could blame excesses of coffee and wine - and I could pee anywhere.

10 years since my official diagnosis. I had a good dozen or so years with very mild MS, even completing a third triathlon as recently as 2004... Strange things were afoot though. Worse bladder; stumbling on my left leg; strange sensations in my thighs; the odd spasm at night; no 'performance', for want of a better word, without a blue pill... Time to talk to countless GPs, neurologists, urologists, MS  nurses and take a barrage of tests. The diagnosis was relatively quick, and life would never be the same. For me, for my family, for my friends...

5 years since my first walking stick.That was a huge, horrible 'surrender' but at least it stopped people assuming I was drunk as I bumbled my way down corridors, tripped over steps and crashed into strangers. I've since accelerated through the gears to one crutch, then two crutches, with a 'walker' being delivered next week. Most of the time I'm in a wheelchair though...

5 years since my first hospitalisation for a 'UTI', Urinary Tract Infection. I know it was five years ago. We had just watched Mo Farah live at the stadium, winning his second gold medal of the London Olympics before we headed off for a UK holiday. That was rudely interrupted by a high fever, nastiness with my bladder, a 999 call and a blue-light excursion to Exeter hospital.Two nights in the Acute Ward on a drip.

1 year since my second UTI hospitalisation, this time during the Rio Olympics. Three nights. Drip again. My MS Nurse congratulated me on 'only' getting a bad infection every four years!

Some anniversaries that don't quite fit any pattern. 18th wedding anniversary, 11th work anniversary. I am grateful in very different ways for my lovely wife and my amazing employers for sticking by me!

It's going to be quite the year...