Not like Beckett, not absurd It’s just as English as the word The saddest laugh I ever heard
Rolling laughs don’t come from rolling hills No pearly whites penetrate the mills More bitter than the bitterest pills
And only laughing when it hurts The summer wine no longer works Born amongst the miserable jerks
There was a time when some British comedy TV became too dour even for me. Last of the Summer Wine and Only When I Laugh are referenced and remain memorable for their misery! I was self-aware enough to realise that watching these shows made me unhappy. I just wanted to laugh at something funny, not at something sideways.
Today I’m feeling:
Tired and useless. The grey of the sky is getting me down. It’s not like the grey of a cloudy sky. That sky moves and promises. This sky is dead. I woke up tired and have napped twice since. Everything feels pointless. No inspiration. No movement.
Today I’m grateful for:
My memories of Murray and myself philosophizing with our teenage imaginations at the bottom of the school field. We looked up at the sky and stars and had no idea how inconsequential we are.
The best thing about today was:
Finishing reading Death’s End. What an awesome book with big crazy ideas. Onto some lighter reading next with Michael Parkinson’s biography.
What was out of your control today and how did you handle it?
My positivity has fallen down today mainly due to tiredness I believe. My PMT or low point of my circadian rhythm. Perhaps I napped my way out of it.
Something I learned today?
I read today that China has offered to mediate between Palestine and Israel in a search for peace in the Middle East. It’s difficult to imagine that it might work but if both sides can see the benefits of increased prosperity perhaps there’s a chance?
What place holds special meaning to me?
There are too many to mention. Today I feel like I am not living my life. My memory feels like a story I watched on TV rather than events that actually happened to me. The places in my memory are still there yet the actual places are not. They exist but are not the same. Sometimes it’s better for a memory to be repaved over with concrete.
I took this picture because as I was riding home from Utopia the mountains were more visible than in recent days and it can be seen how dry the jungle has become out there. The cows and bulls offered a perfect foreground.
We’re taking an overnight flight to the UK and of course, I slept a lot already. It’s only in more recent years that I’ve been able to even sleep a little bit on planes. Except for that one time out of Guangzhou, I was lucky enough to start talking to a girl as we were waiting for departure. Just by chance, she knew the staff working the counter and wrangled an upgrade to business class for herself. She was kind enough to come back down to cattle and tell me to follow her back to business class, where there was a spare seat. Best sleep on a plane ever, and probably the last time I’ll enjoy that too.
Our plane in and out of London is the new A380 and it is huge. Even for the likes of us paupers, it feels like there is a little more room to breathe at least. I barely manage to sleep though.
We arrive in London around 6am and the weather has me instantly cold and chilled (not in the relaxed sense at all). We pick up a hire car, which is amazing but I keep forgetting that it is manual and stall it at every roundabout. Then we take the wrong lane and exit off the motorway and the sky is grey and the rain is drizzling just that annoying amount to make the wipers screech. I am thoroughly depressed already.
Somehow the shitty English coffee manages to take off the edge at least for a while. Just remember not to watch what the barista actually does and just go by taste. I think I had one half-decent coffee this trip – which is one more than last time I visited the UK.
As we arrive in Brighton the sun very occasionally decides to show itself. We’re staying at Amy’s university friend’s house and she just happens to live herself on Brighton Marina. Sometimes I feel especially lucky to find myself in such beautiful places just through the people that I know.
It’s a great little house, and when I say little, I always forget just how tiny and compact English houses are. And doors – always doors. Gotta keep that heat in.
Amy has decided that we must eat Indian food on this trip and, as they are everywhere, it’s only a short walk to our lunch. It’s cold and even the slightest breeze is enough to make us shudder. We have prepared appropriate coats but there’s still the other bits turning blue. Luckily the sun decides to stay for a long while and the sky turns blue. Wait, are we still in England, in February?
Amy’s friend, Bookie, speaks with the typical American accent of her tutors from years ago. Something that I (or Australia) have managed to change with Amy over the years. She doesn’t sound English and not really Aussie but at least it’s not American.
Bookie is married to an airline pilot and he is away 20 days a month and he’s away now, arriving back in the following couple of days for his birthday. They have a five-year-old son called Kyle and when he comes home from school I’m tasked with keeping him entertained whilst food is prepared. We have fun playing Star Wars action figures and making up stories.
Later, Amy and I enjoy the comforts of a nice soft bed and perfect pillows. Back at Amy’s parent’s house, the bed we are sleeping on may as well be a block of concrete – it’s good for learning to sleep on a tiled floor though. The only downside of the night is I wake up having a coughing fit and end up in the living room for a spell. Amy is starting to catch it too and her voice is starting to crack.
We wake up again to brilliant sunshine and coffee’d up (instant) we hit the road, passing Arundel castle and some other Olde Worlde buildings. The history and mystery of England is a little bit magical for me if only the temperature was more appealing.
Heading along the coast we get back into very familiar territory for me, with roads I travelled repeatedly in other glory days. We soon arrive at my cousin’s house and are treated to a warm welcome of food and central heating, along with discussions about details for my mother’s funeral and some other minor details that need to be sorted whilst I’m here.
My cousin, Sharon and her husband Ken have been doing all the hard graft for my mother and for me, of course, over the last 18 months or so. I’m so lucky that she has been here and willing to assist with everything.
It still doesn’t seem real that my mother isn’t here to talk to, to show pictures and to keep updated on the minutiae of everyday life. I feel sad about that but not overly emotional. I keep wondering if I’m going to sit down one day and have a big cry. Maybe. I’ve upped my dose of antidepressants recently, in preparation for my big life move and it’s likely they are helping keep things smooth for me emotionally.
Another coughing fit just after going to bed sees me again relocating to the living room until I’m on the verge of sleep when I return to bed and later Amy wakes me with coughing of her own.
The weather is excellent again and even though it’s cold there’s little wind to bring in the chill. We drive back to my hometown and go to the bank where my mum and I have a joint account and sort out access for Sharon to deal with expenses etc. Amy and I spend a little more time walking around, returning again for pizza at Piccolo Mondo, once my favourite pizza ever, not so much these days though, it’s still good though.
We take ourselves on a country drive as I search out Bulbarrow Hill. I love this place. It sparks that mystical quality of olden days more than some of the other places scattered around the south, even more than Stonehenge. It’s a fabulous view and the sun’s rays break through the scattering of clouds.
I have time to scoff down some more home cooked food, that Sharon says isn’t to her usual quality but it tastes great to me. Bring on the cheese, potato, garlic and butter anytime!
I’m off for a quick catch-up with old school friends Rupert and Murray, though we barely have time with our busy schedules. A quick couple of pints and it’s time to head off on our merry ways, and I am feeling quite tipsy. That is until I open the pub door and the cold wind blast instantly sobers me. This forces me to reminisce quite clearly the many many nights spent walking home from the pub, or the local football club, or the school field where we huddled around a couple of cans of beer and maybe a fire. Those days were either hell fun or hell shit depending on my mood and what was going on around me. I miss the good bits. A lot.
Sheila turned up first (Broni’s cousin) after a six hour train trip down from Newcastle Under Lyme. Then Lisa and Mykala (how do you spell that name!?), Simon (pictured), Rich, Barry, Garry and Mark , followed by Mick and Ray, all the Southampton gang and Murray and Jasper.
Tony took on the record decks but Barry offered us a couple of hours of 3 string guitar entertainment outside. The dance floor rocked, alcohol drunk, and people dropped, then more came (and more) and people we didn’t know took over and mingled and mixed and left again til about 3am some neighbour asked to be quiet outside so we took everyone in ‘cepting the record fair boys who elected to sleep under the stars.
And at about 4am me and Broni headed for bed, where most already were, to be showered with confetti by John and Rob! And the next thing I know, an almighty thunderstorm, in and around my dreams and then I wake up real zombie-like, wishing those left farewell as they slowly sauntered off home to nurse their hangovers and headaches.
I took John, Kerry (another Kerry), Shiela and Broni down to Bournemouth to see the guys at the record fair. Barry was crashed out in the back of his van and Garry and I couldn’t get a word out of him (he did groan some). Everyone looked fucked but said they enjoyed themselves. They’d just woken up as the rain began this morning too.
Then off to the Russell Cotes museum for an hour of zombied interest. Lots of beautiful Japanese things in there but as you can imagine, we saw everything through blurred eyes and double vision.
Back home (sort of), I helped John move his stuff to my mum’s, where he’s staying for 7 days before his trip to Europe, while Broni and Shiela slept back at Kerry’s. Thankfully the rest of the day passed by without too much incident and sleep crept over us around 10pm.
Monday morning woke us happy and giggling and wow, I feel like I’ve never been so much in love with my beautiful girlfriend, best friend, Broni. Her beautiful soft skin turns me on and our bodies compliment each other as they fit together (I don’t just mean sexually) in embrace. Snug fit baby!
More later – this wrist is on it’s way out I’m sure! The chiropractic helped but I just can’t help abusing my body in one form or another!
Gaunts Common was a quiet rustic village in Dorset, the heart of the south of England. It’s only shop, Gaunt’s Common Post Office, closed down in 1985 due to lack of funds and use. No more would the children be able to gather outside its window in the small parking area perturbing customers and neighbours alike.
17th Apr 2021 – The picture above is all that is left to remind me there was once a post office here. The traditional red public phone box has gone too.
The village school still thrived though, taking in the five to eight-year-olds from many surrounding areas. Morning and afternoon would be the busiest time of day as parents ferried their offspring to the South end of the village, packing the car park with their vehicles and causing quiet traffic jams. Some of the luckier pupils need only walk across the road and into the school.
17th Apr 2021 – I seem to remember more foliage around the front and being able to run around all sides of the school as we would often play ‘flashlight’ here at night time.
The community was mainly a farming one, though several of the newer houses were built specifically for their rich owners who travelled into Wimborne Minster, the nearest town, about four miles away. So, slowly the community was diversifying though tractors were as frequent on the roads as buses or taxis, leaving behind them great clumps of mud from the sodden fields. Everyone knew by name the farmers who ploughed the land and looked after the cattle.
17th Apr 2021 – Occasionally we would steal one of these hay rolls and roll it down the road until we got bored, or roll it into the woods where we were hidden from view, set light to it and talk shit with each other whilst throwing asbestos into the flames to hear it crackle and pop.
There were several riding stables in the village and surrounding area, riders taking advantage of the woodlands which began at the top of the hill and spread out to the Northeast towards Holt and Holtwood (more woodland areas). Cars were often required to slow down driving through the village as they waited behind a troop of horses and riders on their way to the woods for a healthy gallop.
By night time, after the small of rush of cars carrying people on their way home from work, the village became quiet except for one or two of the noisier children who would gather at the bottom of the school field, away from the prying eyes of their parents. The focus would then turn to the football club about a quarter of a mile south of the village where people were welcomed by friendly faces to share a beer, a game of darts or pool or, most importantly, to catch up on the latest gossip.
17th Apr 2021 – On the left, the ‘impenetrable’ woods where, as kids, we built a BMX track, camps, fires, war zones and get drunk before we were of age, at which time we migrated to the Football Club, on the right.
Last two days haven’t given us much time for reflection. We can’t see much further than 1st August at the moment, which is when we’re due to leave this house (hence the Rollins item not being here – I did find it but just ain’t had time).
Last night I got in touch with Marie, Jasper and Murray’s dad, to invite all these people to our party. All these names not even mentioned in this tome but integral in my upbringing and my past. Hope some of these guys can make it on the night.
Wrote all that by the river but had to leave to find some place to relieve myself. It is so hot today, even by the river the sun is burning down. Crazy Aussie weather and I’m still in England!
Broni and I were up late sorting out bits and pieces and emptying our room of furniture in preparation of packing. Though stressed out by all this we still have time for fun and laughing. I’m accused sometimes of being too serious but now is a serious time and it will be some relief to get this next couple of weeks out the way.
I’ll apologise now if these entries start to lack any colour and flair. How many ways can you describe packing a box? Rest assured – if there’s any excitement I’ll be in touch.
Here you are again dear reader. I’m currently sat here in the van waiting for my physio appointment. Some old man politely hassling me about how long I’m going to be parked here cos he wants to put his car here.
Had a weird dream last night that involved a known paedophile and bestial man who I saw running naked down a street chasing a pig. I was with a bunch of youngsters (11 to 12-year-olds) and to show them that this man was wrong I beat him the ground and pissed all over him! Knowing he’d be mad at me I ran to the next town and went to where I lived (?) with Martin B(!) on a houseboat(!!!). The man had got there already and had stolen Martin’s dog! Jeez, what does all that mean I wonder?
Me and my baby are often in dispute these days and I wonder what it is that’s changed. We are both of strong character but very forgiving so most arguments are laid to rest quickly but what is it that creates them? Is it being together every night? Is it how I am busy in the evenings and Broni just wants to relax? I can’t help busying myself, it’s the only time I get to do things that I like (ie reading, writing etc). I know these things are mostly to do on my own and in some ways that’s not fair but I do also take time and trouble to make Bronwyn happy. It is difficult living with someone even if you are as madly in love with each other as we are.
I wonder if things were any easier a hundred years ago when the men ruled the roost? I honestly don’t think I could do that in this day and age, though it seems plenty of people still do. I’m increasingly appalled by man’s treatment of women. Why is there a page three girl? Why so many (any) pornographic magazines? Women blatantly used to sell everything. Where in the world can I go to get away from it? Where do people live in some sort of harmony? With respect?
Sometimes I feel myself falling into these traps because they are ever present, bombarded at you from every media angle. What future for our children? So many decisions are made by few people who believe they know what’s best for the majority.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Rich and how it’d be nice if he loosened up a bit! He and Rob have their fair share of arguments I understand, and they live together. Rich tells me some of the tales but I must confess to not being very sympathetic. He’s on holiday in Europe right now so maybe that’ll relax him up a bit.
Mostly the other things on my mind involve Australia. Everyone’s wishing me luck for when I go. (Hey, I caught up with Little Crabby in Safeways and heard the latest gossip! His parents got divorced! Wow! Murray’s still the same and Jasper’s a pothead! Double wow! I remember he wouldn’t touch that stuff when I had it!). I can’t wait to get to Australia – I think it’s going to be a great adventure and a turning point in my life.
I heard someone talking about their destiny the other day and whether they put their success down to luck but he said it was just about making choices and he was positive in his thinking and therefore made the right choices. This is the way I will be and I know I’m making the right choice in going to Australia. I know that this country has little to offer me unless I want to work my ass off for the next 50 years (dying in the next 10 from stomach ulcers).
I’m in search of that harmonious world, not expecting to find but just happy searching.
I want to mention that Kerry has given up drinking and has slimmed down considerably over the last four weeks. I mention this on looking back at previous entries when she was drunk! Just wanted to put that straight.
23rd April 1985 Some of my money went missing. I reckon it was Miller myself but I can’t prove it. Me, Big Crabb, Lee, Little Crabb and Ben had a fire – others at ice skating.
24th April 1985 Did not go to Youth Club.
25th April 1985 Mum reckons I might get the sack.
26th April 1985 Crabby bought computer round. Me and Lee got very merry.
27th April 1985 Been sacked – but got job back. He’s sacking Neil instead. Celebrated employment. Muz was seriously pissed. He’d been to a wedding.
28th April 1985 Went up Crabby’s to play computer.
Record of the week: Husker Du – anything, King Kurt – Destination Zululand, The Clash – Should I Stay Or Should I Go?
15th April 1985 Started working down hotel this week.
19th April 1985 Got Stone’s Mac and small bottle of whiskey. Had a great fuckin’ piss up. Emma came and got sick as a rat. Don’t remember much else.
20th April 1985 Crabby took computer down Murray’s. Everyone came in. Crabby got some drink, but wasn’t enough so got some more. Got half ratted again.
21st April 1985 Reoccurring Dreams is a great party record. Finished off bottles of whiskey. Only just though.
Everything in order Everything on time Such a perfect thing This wonderful life of mine
I’m on schedule I looked at my schedule
Don’t know when I’ll die I haven’t planned it yet But I’ll tell everyone So they don’t get upset
I’m on schedule I looked at my schedule
The Week That Was
Record of the week: Flux of Pink Indians – Punk Sucks
4th February 1985 Started work in the warehouse. Quite a good laugh but fuckin’ knackering. Went down Gaunts after. Chased Perry, Burt and Muz around Gaunts cos they wanted me to. Talked for a while. Came back. Fuckin’ fell asleep. Kinky dream about Lisa. 7
5th February 1985 Fuckin’ had hundreds of fuckin’ deliveries. 20 pallets of Carcases, 2 orders of Key Terrain. We didn’t have time to do it all. Had a good laugh around Gaunts. Maybe do Stumps t-shirts, have an initiation. Talked to Muz for a while. 8
6th February 1985 Pissed around on the bus in the morning. Fucked around in college. Got bus back. Wayne was on there. Had a good laugh. Got school bus. Good laugh again. Fixed drums. Got 11 people in phone box down YC. Pissed around down there. 8
7th February 1985 Don’t remember much about today. Don’t think we had a lot to do at work. Big Brian was doing the bulk lorry – he’s a cunt. Muz wasn’t coming out so stayed in. Quite a few things on telly. Something about some bikers which was OK. 5
8th February 1985 Still not a lot to do at work. Planned to leaflet the Void gig and not do a poster cos it doesn’t photocopy very well. Came home. Pissed around as usual. Went down YC – wasn’t very interesting. I think they’ve sussed out that we fiddle the pool table. Couldn’t stay awake to watch the film 6
9th February 1985 Went to Wimborne. Met Bernice. Went for pizza with Fog and Maggie. Came home. Pissed around on drums. Went down Gaunts. Sharon was there so we pissed her off. Went to Bernice’s at 7. Caught bus to Bournemouth. Went to gig. Atrox played pretty well. Then fuckin’ Bad Noise were fuckin’ around. During Disorder a couple fo fights started. Taff electrocuted himself. Got bus back. 5
10th February 1985 Can’t remember a lot about what happened today. It was fuckin’ cold. I went down Gaunts. Came back. Went back. Pissed around at the woods behind Murray’s. Dean was even there. First time for fuckin’ ages. Didn’t go out tonight cos it was too cold. Spitting Image was OK. 6
Dream? Or was it? It climbed into the closet Shooting unearthly discharges The nightmare enlarges Open up the door It’s there for sure But something is wrong The creature has gone A mirage or a dream Things aren’t what they seem The whiskey, somehow Is empty now
The Week That Was
Record of the week: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Who’ll Build a Box for Black Paul?, Wasted Youth – Paris, France, Inca Babies – The Judge
14th January 1985 M: Got shit from Dave Gilby for not going to college. Feeling really tired. Did the usual things. A: Piwi won’t be at work tomorrow so fuck knows what’s going to happen with just me and Martin there. E: Went to Muz’s who’s being a shit again. Went to H’s. Dandy is one of my erogenous zones. 6
15th January 1985 M: Gilby reckons he’ll dock a day’s pay for not going to college. Having trouble with fucking hundreds of shortages. A: Not much to do this afternoon. Wrote a good poem called ‘The Day The Apples Turned to Poison.’ Haven’t quite stopped smoking. E: Had a bath. Missed the Old Grey Whistle Test. Pretty tired, 9.00. 5
16th January 1985 M: Got school bus. Had a laugh on there. Got bus to Poole. Got to plumbing an hour late. Pretty boring. A: Had English (?!). Finished at 12.35. Had carpentry at 1.30. Managed to get out in time for the bus. Wayne wasn’t on. Caught bus from school. Dandy reckoned I could go swimming one day. E: Pissed around singing. Went down Youth Club. Lost darts. Fuckin’ lost pool – played shit. Came back 6
17th January 1985 M: Fucked off with everything this morning. Dunno why. Seems like everyone’s getting on at me. A: Things getting better this afternoon. Wrote some more poems at lunchtime. Fuckin’ cold on way home. E: Gonna have bath. Had one. Night Court was on. 5
18th January 1985 M: Woke up 6.30. Snowing like fuck. Rung up work – said I wasn’t going. Went down Gaunts – came back when everyone got in a mood. A: Went to Wimborne with mum. Pretty dangerous on the road. Got loads of sweets in town and some underarm spray. E: Went out. Doddy and Scott came down my place. Did some pretty funny taping. Night Court was great. 5
19th January 1985 M:Got up 10. Went down Gaunts. Went down Sandpits with everyone. Fuckin’ good laugh going along the snow. A: Came back at 1.30. Chain came off and got stuck. Pushed it back. Didn’t get in til 3. Had lots of food. Nearly fell asleep. Really tired. E: Went to see The Void. Not very good. Ian got sick and cut his hand. Need a new chain for bike. 7
20th January 1985 M: Missed the morning. Got up at 12. A: Had dinner. Went out. Went down Sandpit Hill. Fuckin’s till good down there. Met Dandy on the way. Managed to get a kiss from her. E: Could hardly fuckin’ sleep. Couldn’t sleep thinking of Dandy. What can we do? 9
1994ever 