Memories
As I’ve started to catalog all of my writings from over the last 40 years, it has become clear to me that ‘Memories’ need to be in a category of their own. I’m fortunate to have a really good memory, and by sitting down to write about specific things from the past, I find that I unlock a lot more detail that I didn’t even know was there.
Badge of Fandom, Mark of Mischief - Forty-four years ago, I almost got thrown off my degree course. It was March 1980, I’d just turned 19, and I was in my first year at Wolverhampton Polytechnic. The previous summer, I hadn’t got the required A-level grades to go to any of the Universities that had given me offers, nor where they good enough to get on the ‘insurance policy’ Computer Science degree course at Wolves, but they’d offered me a place on their Combined Studies course instead, which I’d accepted. Wolves Polytechnic had a pretty advanced computer environment for the time, with distributed groups of terminals spread...
Looking for Tuxedo - Every day that I’m in St. Petersburg, I walk 8-10 miles. It’s my way of building a mental map of the city, and also making sure that Wolfie is getting plenty of exercise. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve made a commitment to meet and greet strangers along the way, and already, some of them have become friends. This is a story about a gentle soul, who I recently met on the streets, and his ongoing search for one of his cats, called Tuxedo. Looking for Tuxedo “I’d been looking for a sign, to let me know that he...
What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love, and Understanding? - My latest random conversation was with Lindsay and Adam, over breakfast on Sunday morning. At this time of year, it is still around 80F at breakfast time, and so I’d chosen to sit outside what is St. Peterburg’s closest approximation to a classic Mid-Atlantic diner. Lindsay and Adam were seated about 5 minutes after me, and as usual, Wolfie was the spark that triggered us to start talking. At some point, I mentioned that we’d traveled down from Delaware in my bright red campervan (Robert’s Red Ford – thank you, Lisa!). It turned out that Adam had used to live...
Falling - This morning’s conversation was with Trinnie, and it started when she fell for me in a big way. Or rather, when she fell over, right in front of me, in rather a spectacular way. I’d taken Wolfie down to St. Pete’s Pier, to watch the sun come up. Well, that’s why I was there. As usual, Wolfie was more there in the hope that he might finally catch one of those all-too elusive squirrels. After taking in the sun’s earliest rays, I bought a cafe con leche to go, and started to think about breakfast. The good thing about getting...
Not So Ordinary - We’d reached the corner of the block, at the same time. I don’t remember exactly how our conversation started. I think it was that she’d admired Wolfie, who had previously been keeping himself busy, by sniffing every bush in sight. Now, he was patiently standing by my side, as we paused for this frail and elderly lady, carefully navigating the corner with her walker. The next part of our conversation went as so many of my conversations do, when she said “oh, you have an accent”. I responded in my usual way, with “I don’t have an accent… you’re the...
Precious Summer - This poem is in memory of a late friend, and the precious summer that we spent together, when we were 10 years old.
No need to put on that red light - Back in 1972, when the decision to scrap the 11-plus exam in Derbyshire was implemented, Deincourt School was woefully unprepared to become a comprehensive. It didn’t have the facilities, the staff, the books, the curriculum, and most importantly, it didn’t have the culture or the mindset to educate kids of all of abilities. Of course, lots of promises were made at the time, and so people generally went along with it, hoping for the best. One of the challenges that emerged when it got time to choose our options (the subjects that we would study for two years, leading up...
Dreams Crushed – Apply Within - I don't remember what triggered me to want to take singing lessons, or to even know that was something that you can do. I was wondering if it had something to do with Lena Zavaroni's record-breaking winning streak on 'Opportunity Knocks', the 60's and 70's talent show hosted by Hughie Green (who later turned out to be Paula Yate's birth father), but after asking the Google, that turned out to be in 1974, which was 6 years after I'd started taking singing lessons, at the age of 7.
You Say Potato - Back in early 2001, I was waiting for my divorce to be finalized, and I was finally feeling ready to dip a tentative toe back into the dating waters. Early in my separation, when word got out that I was newly single, a number of my friends had taken it upon themselves to try and help remedy that, by suggesting that I go out on a date with one of their friends, a fellow co-worker, or someone they knew from the gym or from church. My answer was always the same... "thanks, but no thanks", followed by "I'm not ready to date, yet".
Chicken Run - As a child, my window into the world was small. Outside of parental and sibling supervision, I was restricted to exploring just the street that I grew up on, Seanor Lane, which Google just informed me is 293 metres long, or approximately 320 yards in old money. The Google also told me that there is only one ‘Seanor Lane’ in all of the UK. I always thought that it was a special place to grow up, and I now have confirmation of that fact.