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Memoirs Of An Ordinary Man - The Early Years (chapter 1)


Coopsy

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It sfunny how you remember the little things...

I remember snapshots of my early years as if it were a slide show at a wedding or a flip book of blurry, black and white pictures. But one thing that stands out head and shoulders above everything is the feeling of happiness through out those childhood years. I grew up in a cul de sac full of children in the old days when kids were kids, we rode our bikes, we played tag. When Wimbledon was on we would all play tennis, when the FA Cup was on we were all budding Waddles or Hoddles (now you can really tell my age)

We used to play out til the sun went down, go into the woods and the streams to catch frogs and build tree houses. No computers, no games consules. Just regular interaction with other children, living an innocent existance.

My Dad worked hard, too hard. I have very little memory of him until I am much older, but my Mum was a stay at home mum, like most back in the 80's. We didnt have any money and lived on a council estate, but it was the best place I could have grown up and I wouldnt change it for the world.

Its funny how you remember the little things though...things that should be insignificant in life but remain with you for life.

When I was about 5 I had a red BMX, I think my dad found it at the tip so he brought it home for me. I loved it and rode on it for hours. However someone down the street got a new bike and started teasing me about my used and battered BMX (even though it was the best bike in the world that did the longest jumps and the ebst wheelies).

This obviously affected me as I remember one sunny day in summer we were playing in the front yard, the garage door was open and we had a tatty old dart board up. One moment I was going for bullseye, the next I was throwing darts at the tyres of my beloved bike. With great accurancy for one so young I managed to pop both tyres adn the tears welled up. I knew exactly what I had done...my plan....Simon the nasty boy from number 22 had come by and played darts and popped my tires. The truth - I wanted a new bike.....

I cried so hard, in retrospect of guilt I guess, but that weekend I awoke to a shiny new yellow Chopper. My Dad, who was never home because he worked the life of 2 men just to provide for us, had somehow gotten a new bike. Money that could have been spent on them, something they needed perhaps or even just shopping for the week. All because of my childish plan

Its funny how you remember the little things....

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