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Going to work the blog over and try and develop a theme to it. I know it's a bit erratic, but I've never been any different and am too old to change that now.
One of the main threads running through my various lives is music. I have musical memories attached to every event in my life, and like to make use of this. I can't remember a time when I wasn't next to a radio whilst working and just hearing music can take me instantly to where I was at that time.
An album of late 70's music and I am back in Buxted Chicken factory singing along to the Rezillos, Clout (substitute), Greese (summer night and the theme tune).... tell me more, tell me more! you get the idea and there will be more of this. Would love any pics and memories/anecdotes from those days as my addled brain is only capable of partial recall.
The early 80's are a blur other than we were listening to a lot of Indie bands... basically what John Peel was playing to aleviate the tedious music that was often in the charts. Tedious as it was though, it is good for jogging the memory. As I get older, I am more tolerant of music I don't like, so long as it is giving me a good trip down memory lane.
First song springing to mind is Mental as anything, as this takes me to a key time in my life (relating to this blog) which is the year I learned to type.
Following a serious motorbike accident in 1984 (I think!) that left my leg in traction or pot for over 2 years an attempt was made to rehabilitate me. When it was nearly mended, I was sent to Preston Rehabilitation Center at Pendle Hill Preston where we had no end of fun.
Whatever the PC word for it is now, back then it was for people with disabilities who needed training to get them back into the workforce. It was great fun and we got just as pissed and were as rebellious as when I was a punk or biker... it was just that we went out on crutches, in wheelchairs, walked and looked "different" or had the odd limb missing etc. This actually made us worse as nobody was likely to pick a fight with us in a pub and we were all soon onto this and got away with some outrageous behaviour..
My long hair, beard biker attire made a suitable first impression and it was decided that I could just about be trained to sit on a chair and stack boxes one on top of the other. I enjoyed this no end until they realised I had written something intelligible and done some "Sums" right on the initial assessment form. So half a day stacking boxes later, I was off to the computer section.
BUT... First, you have to learn to touchtype. Bugger! I went to night classes for 6 months, was the only bloke on it and the scruffiest bugger ever to have set foot in a typing class. The typwriter was just that, an old fashioned mechanical one, with one key (sorry) difference. Every key on it was white.... no letters, so we had no choice but to learn properly. Stood me in good stead ever since, and if I want to re-visit that first year, I only have to listen to Mental as Anything and I am back. Became an even better pool player as well, but thats another story.
So, be a tune a post from now on. Taste, not too much perhaps as the memories are the thing here.
I remember your crutch days very well, Tige. Especially carrying your beer for you when we bought take-outs at the Wilkie before going on to a party elsewhere (there was one somewhere along North Road, I remember...). Also smiling at how much fun can be had by exploiting people's prejudices! Small towns, eh? :-D xxx
ReplyDeleteThanks for that memory. I remember that when I left the Wilkie Building I used to extend them to their maximum length. That enabled me to take gigantic strides and I could really motor.
ReplyDeleteMind you, I had to stop completly and wait for you if I wanted a beer.
It is going to be difficult in years to come to sit the kids down and lecture them about the dangers of drink and "carrying on"! or the importance of a good eduction.