(104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

classic Classic list List threaded Threaded
7 messages Options
Ken
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

(104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Ken
Administrator
This post was updated on .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skMbPeB2Tb8


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness... I write not of the famous opening paragraph of the Charles Dickens novel, 'A Tale of Two Cities,' but of the two dates in my history for which those words apply.  One of them evokes a happy memory and the other a sad one, they both occurred on December 11 with a twenty six years gap between the two. The first memory I have spoken of often, for it is the anniversary of my first date with Jenny.  It was in 1968 and I took her to the Odeon cinema in Guildford to see a film called, The Magnificent Two, starring Morcambe and Wise.  The film was dreadful and put me off the famous duo for life. However, it also proved to be the best of times, for I found the wisdom to ask Jenny out for a second date.  She said yes and, just eighteen months later, we tied the knot.  The title, The Magnificent Two, took on a new meaning for both of us.

Twenty six years later, on another December 11, the worst of times began and it started with a loud knocking at our door.  It was a bleary eyed me who arose at 4.45 am and, peering out of my window, I saw a large policeman.  With my heart beating fast I went down to see what was wrong and found with him, and being firmly held, was my thirteen year old son, Morgan.  We had thought him safely tucked up in bed and so it was a puzzled me, and a visibly worried Jenny, who listened to the Policeman's tale.  He told us he was driving on the Carmarthen road when his car headlights shone on someone acting a tad furtively. He'd stopped his car and found Morgan, together with a rucksack, attempting to hide behind a stone wall.  On examining the rucksack he'd found nothing suspicious, just some winter clothing and a store of food. When asked where he was going, Morgan had said he was on his way to spend Christmas in Ireland, but the officer was not happy with this explanation and so he brought our son home.  December 11, 1984, marked the day our son morphed into a different person.  Just like the parents of Harry Enfield's, 'Kevin the Teenager,' we faced some tough years ahead, for the age of foolishness had arrived!

I once met a woman who told me about her troublesome teenage daughter.  She went on to say that she wasn't unduly worried for the girl had older sisters who'd all gone through this phase and they'd turned out fine. Her exact phrase was, "They became Human Beings again."  I confess the memory of that sentence comforted me during Morgan's rebellious years.  Today my son is a fine man, who I love dearly, and I'm proud that he seems to hold me in high esteem, but it wasn't always so.  Looking back I find many of the scrapes he got into amusing but sometimes he didn't fully engage his brain before acting on impulse.  I recall his headmaster telling me that Morgan was the cleverest child, in the cleverest class of his school.  One year later, I received so many messages requesting that I urgently phone him, I put the head at the top of my, 'Friends and Family,' phone list.  He stayed there until Morgan decided school was no longer for him.  On that day I failed to persuade my son to take the the wisest route for his future life.

So Morgan's rock and roll years began at the tender age of sixteen.  The Double Bass and Piano he'd excelled at in school were replaced with an electric guitar.  He formed a band with two older chaps who valued his skills and Morgan became the singer, songwriter and lead guitar.  If you click on the above link you will see them in action with one of Morgan's songs, I warn you, its not influenced by the John Denver songs he once loved.  They called their band, Grenadine, and successfully played several local gigs.  They also entered some, Battle of the Bands, competitions and sold their own CD's throughout the area.  Morgan had his first long term relationship with the drummers sister, a girl called, Rachel, and he spent as much time sleeping at her house, as he did at home.  I will tell of that period of time in a future Cosy story.  

I have always been able to get on with young people, for I'd employed dozens of them, and I got used to them seeing sense in my suggestions. That was not the case with my son, for he'd often say when I told him he shouldn't do something, "Not acceptable," and do it anyway.  Disobedience of any kind was a new experience for me and he went to great lengths to get his own way.  I recall one afternoon, during a snow storm, when he suddenly announced he was going to visit his friend Tom.  The snow was deep, the forecast was abysmal, and Tom lived eight miles away in an area where there was no public transport. Telling him to engage his brain, I firmly said he couldn't go, which resulted in him storming upstairs to his bedroom. Five minutes later I heard a thump and, going upstairs to make sure all was well, I found his window wide open.  Morgan had jumped out, risking both life and limb.  When he saw me looking down, he defiantly gave me the middle finger treatment and set of on the cold, eight mile, walk to Toms house.

One long ago Mothers Day Morgan presented Jenny with an enormous bunch of Daffodils. Delighted, she asked him where he'd bought them but she was not happy when he said he'd picked them from the bank on the way into town. We found he'd completely cleared all the flowers the council had planted. This was the action of an idiot and a yob and Morgan was neither but, as he so often did, he'd acted without forethought.  Another example of this type of behaviour occurred just ten days before Christmas during his teenage years.  I'd come downstairs one morning and discovered a huge Christmas tree leaning against our back wall, when I enquired whence it came, Morgan proudly told me he'd found it.  Apparently, he'd seen it, whilst walking past someone's garden, late the previous night.  "It was next to their dustbins and obviously ready for the dustman to collect," he explained.  "Who throws away a Christmas tree, ten days before Christmas?" was the question I asked.  I went on and said, "Some poor family had bought the tree with the probable intention of decorating it today, only to come downstairs this morning to find some bugger has stolen it!"  The trouble was, Morgan couldn't remember exactly where he'd found the tree, but he knew he'd carried it home for about two miles. That meant there was no way we could return it to its rightful owner and so, that year, some poor sod had to go out and buy a second, bloody, Christmas Tree!

There is a saying, ""When the drinks in, the wits out," which applied to Morgan that night and for many other nights. However, the words spoken to me by the woman with the troublesome daughter thankfully came true, and my son did return to the human race.  It would be fair to say that by the time he did so, his parents hair had turned a tad white and we were forced to play, 'The Glad Game,' more frequently than expected.   But the years passed and some of you will know that it was Morgan who gave us our first computer and insisted we catch up with the modern world and for that I'm forever grateful.  So my message to my much loved son and heir is this, "We're quits buddy, and for the pain in the backside you became in your teenage years, all is forgiven!                                                                                                            

I've called this Cosy memory, 'A Tale Of Three Ages,' and all of them began on December 11.  The first one was in 1968 and with it began the age of wisdom.  The second was in 1994 and what followed was the age of foolishness.  The third age commences now, on this day, the December 11, of 2014, for we enter the age of the unknown.  What follows may be the best or the worst of times, I know not and I don't want to know.  For, as the famous sentence states, this is the first day of the rest of my life.  So, let the adventure begin, I'm ready for it!                                                                            
     

 
Ken
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Ken
Administrator
This post was updated on .
This memory tells of some troubled times for the self proclaimed King of Lo-AM and of an adversary who proved that I was not quite as capable as I once thought!
Tom
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Tom
In reply to this post by Ken
Good Morning,  I learn more with every reading and as you say " it was the best of times and the worst of times " - but perhaps we talk of different times !  Best wishes and enjoy your Christmas.  Tom
Ken
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Ken
Administrator
Good Morrow Tom.
                         The question is, which Tom are you?  Could you be Sir Thomas Ames, the young man who never entered the Ken camp?  If you are, then I wish you well.
                          KEN
Tom
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Tom
Good evening and a Happy New Year, Yes it is I Sir Thomas of Elstead, I was hoping to read more ramblings of our time together but sadly not yet !  I think my telephone is still in the river wey !!     I left England at around the same time as you  only i went to Cape Town where i stayed for 14 years, I returned to England when my Mother died and then moved east where i still live.  It is good to hear that you enjoy your lifestlye in Wales.  Best wishes  Tom
Ken
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Ken
Administrator
This post was updated on .
Good Morrow Sir Thomas.
                                   Several weeks ago a spam warning sign came up on a new email contact I received, signed by a, 'Tom.'  I deleted it, but now realise it was probably you.  If I had known I would have replied.  It was good to hear from you but the comment on the, 'phone and the river Wey,' intrigued me, did that really happen?  You also said that after you returned from South Africa you moved east, was that east to Elstead or east to the Orient?

Are you in contact with any of our old colleagues these days?  I often think of DWW with affection and wonder if he's still alive, If he is, he will be eighty next year.  In my memory you all remain forever young, and unchanged, but in reality that's not the case.  The handsome young Tim Coleman is probably now as bald as a coot, just like his father was, as would be Pete Prentice.  I suppose you must be, from either side of it, very close to sixty years old.  I still have a full head of hair but its silver grey now and I'm told, by Jenny, its very attractive.  She then adds with a smile, that everything else has gone to pot and she's right, for size wise I'm enormous.  One nephew who used to address me as, King Ken, now does so as, King Kong.

How did you come across, 'Kens Cosy,' I presume by accident.  If you've read many of the stories I've written you know pretty much how my life turned out.  Its been a happy one.  I hope yours has been the same and I wish you a happy and healthy future.  If you wish to, I'd be happy to keep in touch.

Best Wishes

 KEN   FMH

 
Tom
Reply | Threaded
Open this post in threaded view
|

Re: (104) 'A Tale Of Three Ages'

Tom
Good evening Ken and to the lovely Jenny, I hope that you are both well.                                                     To update you on my life - I returned from South Africa to deal with the end of my Mothers life, I stayed about 2 years, I then moved to Thailand and have since moved on to the Philippines, As you suggested i recently turned 60, never married and no children - but happy in my little world !  David died about 8 years ago of a Tumor, I am still in touch with Tim Coleman"s sister ( whom i once dated ) and i remember playing cricket against Clark Bannister many years ago, My memory of 30 years ago is much better that it is of yesterday.  Yes I found your internet " Soap Box " purely by chance.                                                        Best wishes and please keep updating your recollections of the past,   Tom