Carl James

One of the things I’ve always taken considerable pride in, other than my children, is that my divorce didn’t change me. Despite the pain, anger and heartbreak, I emerged fundamentally the same person. I hadn’t become bitter, cynical or resentful. I never fully understood why my marriage ended, but eventually accepted that I probably never would. And somehow, that was enough. What I hadn’t anticipated was that being single at 49 might succeed where divorce had failed, and that

“When the characters change but the story always ends the same, perhaps it’s time to question the story, not the characters.” An uncomfortable thought. Particularly when you’re the one who keeps appearing in every chapter. I’ve been thinking about my recent dating experiences. Probably more than is healthy. Although modern dating seems to demand the instincts of a detective, the patience of a saint and the emotional resilience of a crash-test dummy. Even then, there’s n

I have a smart home. I’m not talking about a couple of light bulbs that I can turn pink from my phone, although I can do that too. I mean a properly smart home, the sort of home that has developed into such a complicated collection of sensors, switches, computers and automations that occasionally I find myself having to fix a problem that simply wouldn’t have existed had I not tried to make my home intelligent in the first place. There are sensors that know when I enter a

For those who've been keeping up with my story, you'll know that my marriage ended, rather unexpectedly for me, around 18 months ago. After the dust had settled, as is often the temptation, I found myself dipping my reluctant and still war-torn toe into the pool of modern dating. About a year after the separation, I picked up a digital device, exchanged a few coins per month and embarked on the awful, commodity-fuelled world of online dating. We're bombarded with apps, ea

We've embraced online shopping because it allows us to browse, compare, select and return without the awkwardness of human interaction. No uncomfortable conversations, no explanations, no disapproving glances from a shop assistant when we decide something isn't quite what we wanted. And somewhere along the way, we began approaching online dating in much the same manner. We browse people as though they were products, compare them against alternatives and quietly discard tho

Online dating in a real high street bar Imagine, for a moment, that the peculiar world of online dating was transformed into an actual bar. A physical establishment where everything that happens behind the comforting anonymity of a smartphone suddenly takes place in full public view. It would be quite a spectacle. You'd see men approaching women, politely introducing themselves, only to be met with complete silence. Not rejection, you understand. That would require acknow

Do you remember when the human race wasn’t constantly staring at a six-inch illuminated piece of glass and a time when the vibrating...

I recently discovered a hole in my life, nothing of major concern, but I was on the hunt to fill the void left following completing some...

How often do you get asked, “what’s your favourite song ever?” When I get asked this, I shudder and think what a pointless question,...

In the UK (and possibly other countries too), the lion share of suicides are in men and this isn’t by a small margin as is often the case...

Ok, my turn to share my views on the EU referendum result. Firstly, I blame Simon Cowell - that might sound like a joke statement and it...