Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Me And My Brother – Hunting For Christmas

My brother was five years older than me and as a result from the time I was five years old he looked upon me as something of a burden.
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.

But it wasn’t just outside babysitting Peter had to do, he was often “lumbered” as he would put it, with looking after me at home.
It was on one such occasion in 1964 when I was 8 and Peter was 13.
I remember the day vividly because it was the day my loving brother, five years my senior cast a doubt over the existence of Father Christmas.

My Dad had left the army the previous year and we were then living in the village of Abbotts Ripton in Cambridgeshire where he was chauffeur to the 3rd Baron de Ramsey.
We lived in a quaint “chocolate box” thatched cottage on the edge of the Estate.

Due to some extremely wet weather we were confined to barracks while Mum and dad went shopping in Huntingdon with the gamekeeper and his wife.
There had been the usual fruitless exchange between Peter and Mum.
“Can we go out?” he asked
“Of course not” she replied “it’s absolutely tipping down, you silly boy”
“Boring” he retorted
Mum just tutted and closed the front door behind her.
“Oh great” He cursed “stuck indoors on a Saturday with you and nothing to do”
To put things into perspective we had no computers or video games and there were only two TV channels and they had a limited schedule.
“What are we going to do now?” Peter said and flopped down on the sofa
“We can do a jigsaw” I suggested
“Nah” he replied
“We could play cards” I offered
“Like what?” he queried
“Snap” I said happily
Peter shook his head
“Fish?”
“Brilliant” Peter responded “not only am I stuck indoors on a Saturday but I’m doing it with a baby”
Undaunted I pressed on
“Ludo then, you like Ludo”
“Oh God” he said and buried his face in a cushion
“Snakes and ladders” I said in desperation
“Nah” he said and then he emerged from the cushion and continued “I’ve got a better idea”
“What?” I asked hoping we might finally do something
“Let’s find the presents” he said
“What presents?” I asked
“The Christmas presents” Peter replied
“Huh?” I responded
“The Christmas presents, dummy” he repeated
“I don’t understand” I said
“We’re going to look for our Christmas presents” Peter said
“I still don’t understand” I said confused “it’s not Christmas yet”
Peter had got up and stood by the door
“How can we have presents when Father Christmas hasn’t been yet?”
“God you’re more of a baby than I thought” Peter said with contempt
“You actually still believe in Father Christmas” he added scornfully and laughed
“Shut up” I screamed
“There is no father Christmas you dummy” Peter responded
“Mum and Dad buy all the presents, and put them in our pillow cases”
“No they don’t” I shouted and ran past him and out of the room crying,
This just made him laugh even more.
I just kept running and went upstairs and onto my bed.

I don’t know how long I lay on my bed crying but when I emerged I found Peter carrying a step ladder up the narrow staircase clearly still engaged on his great Christmas present hunt.
“What are you doing?” I asked wiping my eyes on my sleeve
“I’ve looked everywhere except for the loft” he replied panting hard
I refrained from pointing out the reason why he hadn’t found anything and elected instead to watching him struggle with setting the stepladder up and climbing up.
I did laugh when he banged his on the loft hatch but he responded with a glare.
Once he’d disappeared through the hatch I ventured gingerly up the steps.
“Aha” Peter exclaimed and my heart sank
“What is it?” I asked fearing the answer
“I’ve found them” Peter said as his head appeared through the hatch.
“Oh” I responded weakly as his head withdrew much like a tortoise retreating into its shell
“Do you want to know what you’re getting?” he shouted
“No” I shouted back “Don’t tell me”
“Are you sure?” he taunted me
I hesitated, though I didn’t want to know what was in the loft I did want to know something.
“Just tell me if there’s a Fireball XL5?” I said
Fireball XL5 was my favourite program and having my own rocket was the one thing I wanted most in all the world, all the kids at school were talking about it, and I wanted one.
It was the one and only thing I had asked for in my letter to Father Christmas.
“No there isn’t” he replied “and there’s no Walkie Talkies either”
The Radios were the one present Peter had asked for though he would never have admitted that he’d written to Santa.
He spent the next hour sulkily playing Ludo with me until Mum and Dad came home.
I was in a much better mood because in my naivety I took the absence of the rocket in the loft to mean that Father Christmas would be bringing it.

In the days following the present hunt I was troubled by the devastating news that Father Christmas might not exist but I made sure Peter didn’t know how upset I was.
But despite the doubts that now filled my head, on Christmas Eve that year I went to bed with all the usual expectations and having gone through the usual rituals.
Putting out by the fireplace, milk and cookies for Father Christmas and a carrot for the reindeer and then laying out the pillow case on the foot of my bed.
And as I lay snuggled down in bed I thought that it didn’t really matter, it was still fun and there would still be presents in the morning.
Well that’s what I told myself.

It was still dark when I stirred the next morning although I didn’t know what time it was.
I waited for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness but I couldn’t make out anything.
Then I stretched my legs down as far as they would go and whoopee the presents were there.
I couldn’t put the light on incase it was too early, we had been warned about the consequences of getting up too early, so I had to quietly slip out of bed and onto the floor where I reached beneath my bed until I found my torch.
Well when I say it was my torch, it was actually Peters and I had sneaked into his room and stole it from under his bed while he was in the bathroom.
I switched it on and pointed it at the end of the bed.
“Wow” I said as the torch light fell on the pillow case stuffed full with presents as well as a pile of wrapped parcels on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“He’s been, he’s been” I exclaimed
Sometime later I was sitting on my bed and was surrounded by torn and screwed up bits of wrapping paper and I heard a sound at the door.
Before I had chance to react the door had opened,
“So that’s where my torch went?” Peter said stepping into the room and closing the door behind him
“Is it too early?” I whispered
“No its fine” Peter said and switched on the light
“Good” I responded
“Blige” he exclaimed at the scene of devastation
Totally oblivious of the festive mess I was sat amidst I just said triumphantly
“Look what Father Christmas brought me”
As I brandished above my head my brand new Fireball XL5 rocket.
“Happy Christmas” Peter said

Me And My Brother – The November The 5th Fiasco

My brother was five years older than me and as a result from the time I was five years old he looked upon me as something of a burden.
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.

In fact I can only remember one occasion when he was grateful for my company.
It was November 1966, I was 10 and Peter had just turned fifteen the week before.
We were living in North London, where my dad worked as a grounds man on Alexandra Park racecourse and we lived in a cottage on the grounds.
It was the day before bonfire night which when I was ten was a very exciting time.
I found everything about bonfire night exciting, the bonfire in the back garden with the guy on top, hot chocolate and marshmallows, but I especially enjoyed the fireworks, now they’re just bloody annoying, but then they were magic when I was a kid.
However we weren’t the wealthiest family and money for luxuries like fireworks was not easy to come by so we never knew if we were going to have a selection box or a small box of bangers and some sparklers.
So it wasn’t until the afternoon of the 5th of November that we heard the news.
Peter and I were upstairs and Mum and Dad were in the kitchen when dad called up.
“Boys? Come down here”
We knew what is was about so we didn’t need calling twice and we dropped what we were doing and ran full pelt down the stairs, Peter got there first as usual.
“Alright slow down” Dad said as we slid into the kitchen on the lino.
“Mums got something for you”
So we turned our full attension to Mum.
“Here you are boys”’she said handing a bank note to Peter “for fireworks”
“Wow Five pounds?” we said in unison
“Yes” she replied, “I did a lot of overtime last month”
“Thanks Mum” I said and hugged her, Peter took his eyes off the note momentarily and joined me.
Then we did the same to Dad.
“Don’t waste it all on fancy stuff, you’ve got enough there for a decent selection box and a few extras” he said and the realisation dawned on Peters face that he was allowed to get them himself.
In previous years we had gone to the shop and Dad had always bought them.
Even though back in those days kids could buy fireworks and most tobacconists would sell you fags or you could get them and beer from the offie, you didn’t need a note or anything.
We both ran out of the kitchen and started putting our shoes on.
“Where do you think your going” Mum said to me
“I’m going with Peter” I replied, “to get the fireworks”
“Oh no you’re not” she corrected me
“Hah” Peter said and smirked rather disgustingly
“But…” I began
“But nothing you still have chores left to do” she scolded
“But…” I began again
“You have toys all over the house that I told you to clear away this morning” she said
Peter was heading for the back door.
Dad handed him a letter and said
“Pop my coupon in the post on your way”
“Ok Dad” Peter said and smirked at me again
“If I pick them all up now can I go?” I begged
“Too late” Peter said and went out the door “Bye”
“If I pick them all up can I run and catch him up?” I asked
“No” Mum said sternly
I looked at my dad for support but he just inclined his head and gave me a knowing smile that said, “You should have done it when you were told to”

I went off sulkily and begrudgingly picked up every toy car, soldier and Lego brick
And then sat down watching the clock
After what seemed like an age I went to the kitchen to find mum, Dad had gone back to work by then.
“Why isn’t Peter back yet?” I asked her
She was stood at the sink and half turned to glance over her shoulder at the clock
“I don’t know” she replied unsurely then after a moment or two added
“Perhaps he had to go to more than one shop”
She accompanied this remark with a distinct nod as if to confirm what a sensible conclusion she had come to.
Half an hour later she was less convinced.
“Shall I go and look for him?” I suggest hopefully
“No” she said firmly “I don’t want to lose two sons in one afternoon thank you very much”
Then she began pacing the kitchen and muttering under her breath, she had just began her sixth length when I spotted him shuffling down the front path.
“Here he is,” I shouted
“Where?” Mum said and went to the window “thank God”
When he came through the door he looked very crestfallen.
“Where on earth have you been?” mum said sharply though clearly relieved
“I...” he began
“Let’s see the fireworks,” I asked
“I…” he began again
“Where are the fireworks?” Mum asked “Did someone steal them from you?”
“I didn’t get any” he replied softly
“Why not?” Mum demanded
“I,,, I” he stuttered
“Well?” mum reiterated
“I lost the money,” I said
“You did what?” she shouted “you stupid boy”
“I looked everywhere” he said “that’s why I’ve been so long”
“Do you know how hard I have to work to earn the money for luxuries like fireworks?”
“I’m sorry” he said and began crying “but I retraced my steps and I really have looked everywhere”
“Well that’s, that then” Mum yelled as she stomped off down the hall “and don’t think you’re getting any more”
“Did you post Dads letter?” I asked
“Yes” he sobbed
“Well at least you did that right,” Mum said
“Perhaps it’s in the letter box,” I suggested
“What is?” Mum asked
“The fiver” I explained “maybe you posted it with Dads coupon”
Peter looked thoughtful as mum came back into the kitchen
“See your brother has got more sense in his little finger than you’ve got in your whole body”
Peter stared at the floor as she ranted on, this was not the first time she had said that particular phrase but it still hurt.
“You need to get yourself up to the post box and wait there until its emptied and ask the postman to check through the letters”
Peter got up and walked towards the door.
“And take your brother with you” She said, “at least I know I can trust him”
“Can we still get fireworks?” I asked as I put my coat on
“Let’s find the money first” she snapped “and then we’ll see”
I had to run up the path to catch up with Peter but when I caught up to him he put his arm around my shoulder and said
“Well done kid,” he said

We spent the next hour sitting on the curb by the post box until the postman pulled up
He jumped out of his Comma van and when he saw us sitting there he laughed and said
“Ok what did you do?”
Peter stood up and explained what we thought he’d done and he laughed again
“You wouldn’t believe the things people post in here by accident” he said as he unlocked the door and began transferring letters from the box into his sack pausing only once to brandish our £5 note.

We thanked him profusely and went running off down the road and hoped above hope that Mum would still let us spend the hard earned £5 on fireworks.
She was much happier by the time we got home and gave us both a hug before saying
“Now the pair of you had better get to the shop before they close”
“Really?” Peter said
“Yes” Mum said and kissed his forehead
“Just don’t tell your father”

Friday, 22 November 2013

Thanksgiving Gags

Thanksgiving Gags
WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 2

Why did the turkey cross the road?
There was a very simple reason
It was due to a lack of options for a Turkey
During the Thanksgiving season

WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 3

Why did the turkey cross the road?
Well contrary to the fable
It was to avoid ending up
On the Thanksgiving table

IF ONLY YOUR LEFT LEG WAS THANKSGIVING

If only your left leg was Thanksgiving
And your right leg was Christmas day
Then I could devote all of my time
To visiting you between the holidays

AT THANKSGIVING TIME

At thanksgiving time
Turkeys, will like as not
Do the thanksgiving dance
Known as the turkey trot

This Sporting Life

BACK IN 1966

Back in 1966
When I was just a boy
I was full of pride
Watching Nobby’s jig of joy
And when Bobby Moore
Was raised shoulder high
Holding the World Cup
We all began to cry

I AM PROUD TO SAY THAT I COME

I am proud to say that I come
From a mixed race family
My mum was a sprinter
And dad did cross country

RED SOX

For a Bostonian
At his pleasure
Has a particular calling
When at his leisure

And that’s at Fenway Park
Where he spends the day
With kindred spirits watching
The Red Sox play

BLACK SOX

In the 1919 World Series
The Black Sox scandal took place
When the Chicago White Sox
Much to their disgrace
Threw the series
To the Reds of Cincinnati
An event of epic proportions
That will for ever live in infamy

The Family Way

The Family Way
SIGHTS, SOUNDS, SMELLS, TASTE AND TOUCH # 1

Sights, sounds, smells, taste and touch
It’s funny the things that cause the memories to awake
When all of a sudden memories of Mum flood back
It’s Abide with me and Date and Walnut cake

WHEREVER MY FATHER IS RIGHT NOW # 1

Wherever my father is right now
I’m sure he’s looking down
But assuredly He is not dead
He’s just on the roof stealing lead

SIGHTS, SOUNDS, SMELLS, TASTE AND TOUCH # 2

Sights, sounds, smells, taste and touch
It’s funny the things that cause the memories to awake
When all of a sudden memories of Dad flood back
It’s Pipe tobacco, Geraniums and Madeira Cake

THE LONG WAIT

My Dad had cancer
And from the moment
He had to succumb
It was thirteen years
Before heart failure
Was to take my mum
She was so unhappy,
Partly because
His passing left her numb,
But not only that,
She was angry because
She was the lonely one
He wasn’t supposed
To go first, he was supposed
To mourn mum
So at her funeral
I smiled to myself
Even though I was glum
Thinking about them
Reuniting and the bollocking
That was to come

SIGHTS, SOUNDS, SMELLS, TASTE AND TOUCH # 3

Sights, sounds, smells, taste and touch
It’s funny the things that cause the memories to arise
When all of a sudden memories of my Brother flood back
It’s Barry White, Wine gums and Apple Pies

WHEREVER MY FATHER IS RIGHT NOW # 2

Wherever my father is right now
I’m sure he’s looking down
He’s definitely not dead yet
He’s just a condescending git

Tales of Love # 10

Tales of Love # 10

I FINALLY FOUND THE ONE

I finally found the one
The one for whom I’d yearned
And everything was going well
Until my fortunes turned
When the joy became sorrow
And I suddenly got burned

RED ROSES

Red roses
For my true love
Each stem symbolic
One for each year
Each unopened bud
A year yet to come

RED SUNSET

The red sunset is for lovers
Who sigh with lovesick bliss
And in the glow of a blood red sky
The lovers stand and kiss

HOW COULD SHE BE REAL?

Is she not a mirage?
Born in my arid heart
To confuse my senses
Conjured from my dreams
To give false hope
This wild imagining
Is so cruelly meant
For someone so unworthy
How could she be real?

I FELL FOR YOU

I fell for you
Like a stone
And I am in heaven
I’m walking on air
As I imagine
Your arms around me
And If you fall for me
You’ll leave me breathless

UNHINGED, UNLOCKED

Unhinged, unlocked
Old wounds reopened
A love turned to hate
The passion and desire
Now for revenge

TOWARDS YOU MY LOVE

Towards you my love
My heart conveys me
Drawn towards your beauty
And your healing heart
The cherished moments
Of your tender embrace
Sustain me on my journey
Towards your open arms

YOUR KISS UPON MY MOUTH

Your kiss upon my mouth
Your breath against my skin
Your almost palpable touch on my heart

A PASSIONATE DESIRE

A passionate desire,
Made manifest
First in a perfect kiss
Then in a carnal embrace
Entwined with you
In an act of bliss
My love for you
Made complete

SOME PEOPLE SEEK

Some people seek
A maelstrom
Or a whirlwind
A breathless passion
Of eternal desire
But for me
I just need to be loved

A KEEP-SAKE

A keep-sake
That speaks of love
A handkerchief
Bearing a lipstick kiss
A rose dried and pressed
Within a weighty tome
A missive couched
In terms of love
Or a photograph
Kept beside your heart

THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE

Sending signals
And reading
The replies
A look or gesture
That holds a message
To be relayed
Is as ancient
As hieroglyphs
And as difficult
To translate

Tales of Love # 9

Tales of Love # 9
THE COMPASS OF MY HEART

The compass of my heart
Points for all its worth
With unwavering certainty
To the true polar north

It is not easily diverted
Or drawn to any latitude
But remains unerringly
On its northern longitude

IN HER DEEP BLUE EYES

In her deep blue eyes
Blue like the ocean deep
I looked for my reflection
But I couldn’t see it
Then all at once it hit me
Washing over me
Like a tidal wave
And I was left breathless,
Drowning in a sea of love
Then your arms were around me
And we made love
In the breaking waves

RED DRESS

I find that I have to confess
Though she lacks finesse
And her hair is a complete mess
I feel I can no longer suppress
The feelings I want to express
For the girl in the Red Dress

YOU WERE MY ONE AND ONLY # 2

You were my one and only
You were the sun in my sky
Now light has been banished
And I must in the darkness cry

HAIR OF BLACK

Hair of black
Falls untamed
Over ivory skin
Stark in contrast
Like a ravens wing
Against an alabaster sky

YOU TOOK ME FROM A SEA OF COLD

You took me from a sea of cold
You breathed life into me
Brought me back from the dead
Gave wings to my soul
And put music into my heart

I LIVED IN A CHASM OF EMPTINESS

I lived in a chasm of emptiness
A dark void of loneliness
Cold and emotionless
Without purpose or direction
A soulless vessel
Until that blessed moment
When you blew into my heart
Your divine wind
And I was full of love

OH WIND OF LOVE

Oh wind of love,
Blow my way
Have influence over me
Like the moon does the tides
Bring music into the silence
And shine your light
Into every darkened corner
And fill my world with love

THE RED BARN MURDER

At the Old Red Barn
In a Suffolk village
Maria and William
Had a lovers tryst

Romantic young Maria
Thought it was love
And they would elope
And not be missed

But he had other plans
And shot her dead
Burying her in the barn
And escaping into the mist

But just a year later
Billy paid the price
When he met the hangman
In a different kind of tryst

RED SKY AT NIGHT

Red sky at night;
Romantics delight,
When love can start
With an open heart

A LOVE SO STRONG

A love so strong
With depth and tone
Shared by two souls,
Kindred spirits of the heart
Enough love to last
Three lifetimes
So why would such a love,
Such loving feelings,
Not only fade,
But turn to retched hate

FINALLY I FOUND SOMEONE TO LOVE

Finally I found someone to love
Someone caring and nice
Someone who loves me
But it was over in a trice
For I was complacent
And so paid the ultimate price