I’ve always loved zombie films; there’s nothing quite like the chaos that ensues when a group of mismatched survivors hide away from an ever-increasing army of the undead and, one by one, succumb to the inevitable in the name of entertainment.
The thing I like most in these films is not the clunky plot and dialogue, the gore, the inventive methods of dispatching with the walking corpses or the character studies of what a group of otherwise normal people would do when faced by apocalyptic events; it’s the zombies themselves. You have to admire them; although they are slow, stupid and almost too amusing to be considered a threat, they almost always win and everybody loves an underdog story.
Imagine my delight then when, thanks to the arrival of my first child, Dylan, I realised that I had become one of my silver-screen heroes. Yes, this is a slightly odd way to start a blog about the happiest event in my life – alongside getting married to my wife, Kate, of course – but, much like the hapless victims in the films of George Romero et al, I haven’t slept in a while. I now amble my way through my days in a fairly aimless fashion doing stupid things and groaning like a flesh-eating fiend at the effort that this requires.
In this blog I’ll be banging on about my new experiences as a dad in the hope that others may enjoy and relate to them. Thanks for reading this far and I hope that, like the zombies, you come back!