It was about a month after my brothers 21st birthday that we had a formal party, I'd travelled back from London to Whiston in Lancashire and the rare night of a Weldon "do" was upon us.
That year, my younger brother Paul must have been 6 years old and I followed him around the hall watching as he put a handful of peanuts on each table, around 15 peanuts or so, bang in the middle of each table. That was his job, but nobody had explained how, so he made it all up as he went along.
The hall was about a mile from home, and near the end of the party, I grabbed my girlfriend and we snuck out, walking back to the house for a bit of "how is your father", "Percy Filth" or as Austin Powers would say, a good shag.
It was a good night and my personal introduction to Pernod.
Alcohol and time, space, speed of walking, speed of vehicles. It all didn't matter to us, however, perhaps a few minutes into it all, the secret front room was no longer our own as the light went on and (at least) my mum and Auntie Alda strolled in, catching the pair of us at it.
The light went off quickly and the door closed.
And nothing was ever said......
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Start
The start of my working life, back there in September of 1974, was the opening of a chapter that would, in my case, last 33 years, ending in September 2007.
It was the start of debt, in fact I believe it was only a month into my working chapter that I bought a motorbike that I could not afford, on the "never never" as my mother would put it, mind you, in the years before starting work, my mum had done little to avert the habit, her Kay's catalogue was always available for the kids to spend their pocket money on inflated priced trinkets.
The motorbike, well, it was a liability for sure, besides that monthly payment, there was an expensive insurance policy, repairs and not forgetting the occasional brush with the law, with ridiculous fines for something as trivial as not having an "L" plate affixed. At a time when I was earning 14 pounds a week, a 20 pound fine was devastating.
Then I dropped the bike, damaged a Mercedes back tire along with my pelvis and the bike was off the road with a dinged front fork.
Oh, but the payments never stopped.......
It was the start of debt, in fact I believe it was only a month into my working chapter that I bought a motorbike that I could not afford, on the "never never" as my mother would put it, mind you, in the years before starting work, my mum had done little to avert the habit, her Kay's catalogue was always available for the kids to spend their pocket money on inflated priced trinkets.
The motorbike, well, it was a liability for sure, besides that monthly payment, there was an expensive insurance policy, repairs and not forgetting the occasional brush with the law, with ridiculous fines for something as trivial as not having an "L" plate affixed. At a time when I was earning 14 pounds a week, a 20 pound fine was devastating.
Then I dropped the bike, damaged a Mercedes back tire along with my pelvis and the bike was off the road with a dinged front fork.
Oh, but the payments never stopped.......
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
I'm not in Love
The diary of 1975 that I refer to, chronicled the demise of the single lad into the manacled, quick to grow up young man.
Big boys don't cry.
It's all there in that 1975 edict, the very apparent "two timing" that my girlfriend at the time was undertaking, and the many breakups because of it, and then, in the latter parts of 1975, the Walter Raleigh Weldon, throwing his coat down in a puddle to apparently save the young lass.
At the time, when I'd plucked up enough courage to tell her in the kitchen that drama filled night, my mum said that "if she's done it with you, she's done it with others" which, at the time was in direct opposition to my blinkered beliefs, yet was, in retrospect, true.
Always listen to your mum.
Life didn't work out too bad, after all, I ended up here didn't I..?
Big boys don't cry.
It's all there in that 1975 edict, the very apparent "two timing" that my girlfriend at the time was undertaking, and the many breakups because of it, and then, in the latter parts of 1975, the Walter Raleigh Weldon, throwing his coat down in a puddle to apparently save the young lass.
At the time, when I'd plucked up enough courage to tell her in the kitchen that drama filled night, my mum said that "if she's done it with you, she's done it with others" which, at the time was in direct opposition to my blinkered beliefs, yet was, in retrospect, true.
Always listen to your mum.
Life didn't work out too bad, after all, I ended up here didn't I..?
Birthday
In 1975 of course I was 18 years old, today, at 51 years old, things feel different.
The diary says that it was quite a normal day really, and that's probably true of most birthdays, things have not changed besides the number had increased. I went to London and bought a cassette for my brother's birthday (October 18th) and that weekend received a cassette from Rob, a model off my younger brother Paul and five pounds off my grandad, ten pounds off mum and dad.
The cassette jammed, so I had to take it back.
Today is another normal day, 33 years later, although grandad, mum, dad and Paul have gone, so no prezzies from them, in fact, birthdays are more for celebration, eating and drinking, not so much about material things any more.
No reason to be sad today, woke, brewed some coffee and prepared for another normal day.
The diary says that it was quite a normal day really, and that's probably true of most birthdays, things have not changed besides the number had increased. I went to London and bought a cassette for my brother's birthday (October 18th) and that weekend received a cassette from Rob, a model off my younger brother Paul and five pounds off my grandad, ten pounds off mum and dad.
The cassette jammed, so I had to take it back.
Today is another normal day, 33 years later, although grandad, mum, dad and Paul have gone, so no prezzies from them, in fact, birthdays are more for celebration, eating and drinking, not so much about material things any more.
No reason to be sad today, woke, brewed some coffee and prepared for another normal day.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
September 1975
A quick summary of quotes from the diary for September 1975 :
"Bought new TD instruments"
I was still calling it TD or Technical Drawing at that point, the set was from a company called British Thornton, nice black clamshell case, again, lost in time.
"Pinched Carb also got Manifold"
The stupidity of youth, pinched a couple of items from the cupboards at the Ford apprentice training centre. Twin Weber carb on some manifold.
"Court, case dismissed 'phew' Gasspp, so fingers crossed for the future"
Long story, but I was up in court for being accused of trying to pinch a car, which I wasn't, I was trying to find somewhere to sleep one night on the way home from a nightclub, or thats the way I remember it. The court case was over my head like a damoclean sword all year.
Fingers crossed was a common phrase for me back then.
"Had argument with Jan, we're not talking, thought I'd got rid of her, no such luck - she says she'll change"
A pivotal point, my girlfriend was playing the field at the time and I was stupid enough to let her back, time was to show that she never stopped, even after we married.
"We've got rid of Ian at last"
Couldn't get rid of the girlfriend, but could get rid of a third guy who was living in digs with us, back to just me and Mark Gaskill.
"Usual rubbish at work, it's so boring, I keep dropping off..."
Wow, if only I could have seen the signs and saved myself thirty odd years of the same......
"Bought new TD instruments"
I was still calling it TD or Technical Drawing at that point, the set was from a company called British Thornton, nice black clamshell case, again, lost in time.
"Pinched Carb also got Manifold"
The stupidity of youth, pinched a couple of items from the cupboards at the Ford apprentice training centre. Twin Weber carb on some manifold.
"Court, case dismissed 'phew' Gasspp, so fingers crossed for the future"
Long story, but I was up in court for being accused of trying to pinch a car, which I wasn't, I was trying to find somewhere to sleep one night on the way home from a nightclub, or thats the way I remember it. The court case was over my head like a damoclean sword all year.
Fingers crossed was a common phrase for me back then.
"Had argument with Jan, we're not talking, thought I'd got rid of her, no such luck - she says she'll change"
A pivotal point, my girlfriend was playing the field at the time and I was stupid enough to let her back, time was to show that she never stopped, even after we married.
"We've got rid of Ian at last"
Couldn't get rid of the girlfriend, but could get rid of a third guy who was living in digs with us, back to just me and Mark Gaskill.
"Usual rubbish at work, it's so boring, I keep dropping off..."
Wow, if only I could have seen the signs and saved myself thirty odd years of the same......
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Who do you think you are?
I acknowledge that I'm closer to me than anyone else, yet, I am still unsure at this late stage of my life about who exactly I am, how myself is presented and what I represent to the world.
I'm convinced that I am a good person and that I mean no harm to the inhabitants of this particular earth, yet I can not be sure about any of you whatsoever, you present yourselves as kind, considerate, and loving individuals but can break your visage at a moments notice, you strike me as self consuming, vain and egocentric, while I, of course have none of those nasty traits.
The 1975 diary was full of unworldly comments about my breathing moments, sort of a badly spelled mural of non events that made up that year in my life, somewhat of the worst and best of just one of the years I can attribute to my life on your planet.
If anyone reads this, thinks its all crap, well, fair doos, but its not, it was a thought, here inside, would stay forever if I had not typed it out, would be silent and lonely in this head, and will fade.
And would be lost, like all of us will, without each other, without communication with one another we are all, perhaps, nothing whatsoever.
I'm convinced that I am a good person and that I mean no harm to the inhabitants of this particular earth, yet I can not be sure about any of you whatsoever, you present yourselves as kind, considerate, and loving individuals but can break your visage at a moments notice, you strike me as self consuming, vain and egocentric, while I, of course have none of those nasty traits.
The 1975 diary was full of unworldly comments about my breathing moments, sort of a badly spelled mural of non events that made up that year in my life, somewhat of the worst and best of just one of the years I can attribute to my life on your planet.
If anyone reads this, thinks its all crap, well, fair doos, but its not, it was a thought, here inside, would stay forever if I had not typed it out, would be silent and lonely in this head, and will fade.
And would be lost, like all of us will, without each other, without communication with one another we are all, perhaps, nothing whatsoever.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Unjustified
I have been experiencing a lateral shift in my thinking lately, I'm discovering that some topics that I thought relevant in my life have faded, being replaced by a new, fresh bunch, perhaps as a mindset to justify my lifestyle.
The coast life, with all its simplicity, had presented me with a culture shock. The change from a working environment to a retired, relaxed, lifestyle had shaken a lot of the things I felt to be normal in our lives, normal because perhaps we have been educated to think of them that way.
Case in point was a visit to a "mainland" mall yesterday, a hundred or more shops, crammed with consumer candy, all bright and sparkling, calling to be bought, consumed, discarded, rejected. The edifice of all things worked for, fueled by the glossy media pokes and prods, the justification for all our hours in servitude laid out for the taking.
And I found myself walking around completely disinterested, my only thought was of escape, away from the maze, out to the fresh air, back to our "island" here on the Sunshine Coast, back to my reality and what is fast becoming my new friend..
Sanity.
The coast life, with all its simplicity, had presented me with a culture shock. The change from a working environment to a retired, relaxed, lifestyle had shaken a lot of the things I felt to be normal in our lives, normal because perhaps we have been educated to think of them that way.
Case in point was a visit to a "mainland" mall yesterday, a hundred or more shops, crammed with consumer candy, all bright and sparkling, calling to be bought, consumed, discarded, rejected. The edifice of all things worked for, fueled by the glossy media pokes and prods, the justification for all our hours in servitude laid out for the taking.
And I found myself walking around completely disinterested, my only thought was of escape, away from the maze, out to the fresh air, back to our "island" here on the Sunshine Coast, back to my reality and what is fast becoming my new friend..
Sanity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
