old friends

Hello blogsite my old friend, I’ve come to write with you again. It’s nice to be back feeling fit and good. I’ve finished my course of chemotherapy at long last and all looks pretty positive. I’ve even gone through all manner of tests on my heart and have a great story for you about doctors and diagnoses and don’t believe all they say, but that’s for another posting. Today I wanted to write about something uplifting and hit upon the theme of old friends. Specifically an old friend you may not have seen for like a million years when all of a sudden his (or her) name pops into your memory. Have you ever experienced that?

Well I have just recently and it was triggered by a fantastic trailer for a new upcoming series of programmes on C4 entitled ‘Live From Space’. I’m not a rocketman but I am quite looking forward to the series. But the thing that’s intrigued me has been the trailer which is just brilliant. If you haven’t seen it check out this space cowboy hitching a ride:

Yee ha! The SFX are pretty bloody good but what makes it for me is the Silver Machine soundtrack from Hawkwind. Now that track was first released in the summer of 1972. It was for me those glorious months after finishing A levels and before heading off to Uni. I was spending a lot of time with my girlfriend (who would later become my wife – and still is!) but I was also blokeing around with my mates. One of those guys was Tim H who had been a top pal since I was at junior school. Now Tim wasn’t heading off to do further education; his father was a successful business man and Tim had the entrepreneurial gene. He was off to make his fortune but it wouldn’t be through operating wholesale businesses like his Dad. Tim was too cool for that. He’d already tried leading a band but they had run out of steam. Then he’d tried his hand running a boutique (Tim loved his fashion) which had sadly failed as I don’t think Poulton-le-Fylde was ready for purple hipsters for guys. He’d then moved on to operating a mobile disco (he was very much into his music too) under the DJ moniker of Captain America, which I thought was pretty naff. But that was Tim for you. His main contract, in fact I think it was his only gig, was to run the disco on Thursday nights at the R&R club at Kirkham. It was a squaddie/RAF crew hangout from the local bases and not very attractive (like the girls) but it was regular business for Tim and a small bunch of us would turn up religiously to support our mate. Often we’d be the only people in there.  That wouldn’t daunt Tim who’d talk his faux transAtlantic DJ patois (he was heavily influenced by Emperor Rosko) whilst playing his hit list and at No1 in his list that summer was Silver Machine. We’d get to hear it spun at least once an hour all night long which always struck me as odd as it’s quite an odd song to dance to (let’s face it it has Lemmie doing the lead vocals) and it would clear the dancefloor of girls almost immediately. It wasn’t exactly Donna Summer type-disco.

But I watched that trailer and I thought about Tim and wondered what on earth happened to him. I imagine the DJ desk and the stars and stripes-bedecked top hat have long since been retired. I hardly saw him again after that summer yet we’d been almost inseparable mates up to that point. Isn’t it funny? There’s one other thing that came to mind when I thought of him. The first time I went to his house he introduced me to his mum who was in the kitchen then he asked me to come and meet his dad who was in the study. I had no idea what a study was. We entered this room off the main living area and there was his father sat behind this beautiful desk going through a pile of papers surrounded by shelves of books and pieces of arts and sculpture. It was wood-panelled and quiet and had this huge window enjoying terrific views of the extensive garden and beyond to ‘T’ wood, a local beauty spot. I immediately liked Tim’s father who was gentle-mannered and already in his mid 60’s compared to my youthful dad. But I loved that room. Ever since I have longed to own a study of my own. Whilst I have large desk and lots artwork and have had homes with some spectacular views, I’ve never had a study to call my own. Let’s face it who does? One day perhaps.

What’s the chances of Tim reading this do you think? Well if you do get in touch mate!

pp

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