Beware the past
It can really knacker your blog publishing schedule.
I timestamped this..... ooooh, yonks ago, now. It's now.... some time later and I still haven't got this one straight in my head, let alone straight on the page. That's what happens when the past reaches up and grabs you like the Henrietta zombie in Evil Dead 2, which is probably a piss poor metaphor for a really good night, but there you go, if you wanted quality writing you'd be reading a professional author and not wasting your time here, mwahahah. So let's stick to the facts.
Some months ago, I was contacted by a fella I went to school with many moons ago whom for the purposes of the Blogosphere we shall call Jacko. Jacko told an interesting tale which involved a certain anniversary - 21 years since we all finally buggered off sharpish from our place of compulsory education - and a certain planning concept, then in the works of an attempt at a reunion. "A jolly wheeze", thought I, and put it firmly in the diary. A certain amount of weaseling was done at work to ensure I wasn't hassled by anything boring, such as for instance a requirement to actually turn up at work and earn my living when I was supposed to be down south being freaked out by how bald and fat my former classmates have all become. Oh, I'm sorry, that's how freaked out THEY would be by how bald and fat I am.
On Saturday last I found myself in the vicinity of the old family homestead, and setting up digs at my gran's place; not as is more usual, at the Hospitible House of Kev, since as for once he wasn't involved in the night's games it seemed a little unfair to make use of his roof. Hmmm, does that rhyme? Near enough. I pointed the GLC in the direction of a place called Bramford which once was the social hub of the High School crowd, being more or less central to the catchment area and sucking slightly more than my own village, swung into the carpark and shut the engine down. Now, as anyone who's done this before will confirm, walking into one of these events is often weird and a little scary. Now, I have to do things that make me nervous all the time, so I just prep for them my own way; checked the car was all squared away, stepped out into the cold night air, put on Face Number 24, ran my hands through where my hair used to be and stepped through the door... Slightly paranoid moment when I clocked a number of girls that I recognised who all smiled and laughed a bit at the sight of me... was my fly undone*... and then into a wall of blokes and handshakes, which was good.
So all in all, it's a weird thing and it was unsettling in that, several days later, I'm still a little sideways about it all, but it's stabilising again. Funny moment of the night was when one of my early beer buddies, Chrissy saw me chatting to my first ever girlfriend C., said in a suprised tone "HEY... do you remember.... I didn't know you guys knew..... hang on a moment, didn't you..... oh", and silently went "I'll get me coat" a'la Fast Show. Nice one. Actually, C was one of the first folks to get back in touch when this reunion business first appeared on the horizon which was, and is most cool. A couple of suprises.... folks that weren't at my school but whom I knew socially who're now either with folks I schooled with, or still socialise with them; and at least twice as many folks there than the organisers were expecting, which was superb. Yes, an unsettling evening but in a very positive way, not enough time by a long way, I could have used a day. It was, to use the phrase that surfaced time and time again "intense, surreal weird, and emotional". At the end of it, a very real sense that I'd struck into something real and good again that I'd lost for a long while, and frankly was quite narked at losing again. Questioned just what I was doing up here too; as one who was noted as one of the furthest travelled to attend. By the end of the night, I was in need of a smoke to stop my head going into overdrive, and not happy that my gran doesn't have a single match in her house. Ended up being forced to re-evaluate my time at school, and the people that were there... was I ever really as unpopular as I thought I was? At the time I was certainly sideways a couple of feet compared to the rest of the kids; not so much not fitting in, but refusing to fit in by their rules but was that anything more than the prototype of what I still am? And that worked out pretty well, didn't it?
I'm bloody glad I went.
*No, it wasn't.
I timestamped this..... ooooh, yonks ago, now. It's now.... some time later and I still haven't got this one straight in my head, let alone straight on the page. That's what happens when the past reaches up and grabs you like the Henrietta zombie in Evil Dead 2, which is probably a piss poor metaphor for a really good night, but there you go, if you wanted quality writing you'd be reading a professional author and not wasting your time here, mwahahah. So let's stick to the facts.
Some months ago, I was contacted by a fella I went to school with many moons ago whom for the purposes of the Blogosphere we shall call Jacko. Jacko told an interesting tale which involved a certain anniversary - 21 years since we all finally buggered off sharpish from our place of compulsory education - and a certain planning concept, then in the works of an attempt at a reunion. "A jolly wheeze", thought I, and put it firmly in the diary. A certain amount of weaseling was done at work to ensure I wasn't hassled by anything boring, such as for instance a requirement to actually turn up at work and earn my living when I was supposed to be down south being freaked out by how bald and fat my former classmates have all become. Oh, I'm sorry, that's how freaked out THEY would be by how bald and fat I am.
On Saturday last I found myself in the vicinity of the old family homestead, and setting up digs at my gran's place; not as is more usual, at the Hospitible House of Kev, since as for once he wasn't involved in the night's games it seemed a little unfair to make use of his roof. Hmmm, does that rhyme? Near enough. I pointed the GLC in the direction of a place called Bramford which once was the social hub of the High School crowd, being more or less central to the catchment area and sucking slightly more than my own village, swung into the carpark and shut the engine down. Now, as anyone who's done this before will confirm, walking into one of these events is often weird and a little scary. Now, I have to do things that make me nervous all the time, so I just prep for them my own way; checked the car was all squared away, stepped out into the cold night air, put on Face Number 24, ran my hands through where my hair used to be and stepped through the door... Slightly paranoid moment when I clocked a number of girls that I recognised who all smiled and laughed a bit at the sight of me... was my fly undone*... and then into a wall of blokes and handshakes, which was good.
So all in all, it's a weird thing and it was unsettling in that, several days later, I'm still a little sideways about it all, but it's stabilising again. Funny moment of the night was when one of my early beer buddies, Chrissy saw me chatting to my first ever girlfriend C., said in a suprised tone "HEY... do you remember.... I didn't know you guys knew..... hang on a moment, didn't you..... oh", and silently went "I'll get me coat" a'la Fast Show. Nice one. Actually, C was one of the first folks to get back in touch when this reunion business first appeared on the horizon which was, and is most cool. A couple of suprises.... folks that weren't at my school but whom I knew socially who're now either with folks I schooled with, or still socialise with them; and at least twice as many folks there than the organisers were expecting, which was superb. Yes, an unsettling evening but in a very positive way, not enough time by a long way, I could have used a day. It was, to use the phrase that surfaced time and time again "intense, surreal weird, and emotional". At the end of it, a very real sense that I'd struck into something real and good again that I'd lost for a long while, and frankly was quite narked at losing again. Questioned just what I was doing up here too; as one who was noted as one of the furthest travelled to attend. By the end of the night, I was in need of a smoke to stop my head going into overdrive, and not happy that my gran doesn't have a single match in her house. Ended up being forced to re-evaluate my time at school, and the people that were there... was I ever really as unpopular as I thought I was? At the time I was certainly sideways a couple of feet compared to the rest of the kids; not so much not fitting in, but refusing to fit in by their rules but was that anything more than the prototype of what I still am? And that worked out pretty well, didn't it?
I'm bloody glad I went.
*No, it wasn't.
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 12:10 am
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