What's up mo foe's,
This weather heah, changes more than the state of the economy, but then again the G20 nations cant really complain about it, I mean of all the places the worlds 20 most powerful nations could meet. Sydney, Paris, Dubai, no someone in all their wisdom chose the docklands which could have 80 degree heat all day long but would still look cold and miserable. Think the last thing the excel arena hosted was a steps concert, so yes ideal venue for the G20 summit me thinks. Anyway you rock on Obama and Brown, they should finish the summit with a duet of steps version of tragedy. Right going just a little bit away from my early life here although I have had a drunken jig to a steps classic before.
Quick family history as before you know who my brothers and sisters were, dont worry more to come about David and Tracey, but the way it went when I was younger kind of went like this.
My Dad Terry, one hell of a worker, he worked like his Dad on the railway, known back then as British Rail, it now of course has about 50 different names and services. Anyway my Dad would work pretty much a six day maybe even a seven day week in order to provide for the family. What did he do, alot of the time he layed tracks, you know the big massive sleepers, and the heavy rails knocked into place with those huge bolts. Not much use for machines back then just pure brute force and a hefty hammer to knock the rails in. So my dad would do a night shift and generally pick me up from school. My dad after a few hours would come back looking like grizzly adams on really hairy day. I think the sole purpose of this was for a certain routine. It went like this I would get cheeky to my brother David so he would get my Dad and together they would hold me down while my brother tickled me and my Dad would use his stubble to brush against my cheek, oh how I wasnt traumatised I dont know. Thinking back it was quite funny but at the time i was about 7 or 8 so not so great then, Im sure i would get my brother back.
So where was my mum, well she was at work, my mum at the time worked at Edgware General Hospital, not quite sure what she done. Mum would later work at the Medical Research Centre in Mill Hill which was just down the road from my primary school St Vincents RC School.
My best friend at the time was a lad called Neil Quartly whos dad Bill was the school caretaker, the school lollipop man, he probably cooked the school dinners and teached aswell, Bill done shit loads. Me and Neil lost touch for abit after primary school. At St Vincents we had it all going on, we had specific football teams, I was in the Ramsays, run by my still good good friend Farnk Ramsay, yes he was the shankley of the playground and our bitter rivals were Grahams, I cant remember his first name. We would have end of season reports off Frank about how we performed that season, and he went in to alot of detail, and we got a mars bar as a reward, I personally would of prefered a bag of marbles Franky boy. Were had the traditonally scary teacher, and at the time you didnt get much scarier than Mr Johnson (name followed by dramatic music in your head). Back then like the school janitor teachers taught everything, Mr J would take us all though for P.E. which I think was a choice between Football or Rounders or if you like Rounders or Football, no PC crap back then if the chick didnt like it tough shit. The thing most people remembered about Mr Johnson was that if you messed up, if you looked at a tree in the the wrong way, how do i put this........your hide was getting whacked. I swear the bloke just grabbed people of the street and whacked their arse. What he would do was get the offenders to line up in front of his class, yes you didnt have to be in his class to get a whacking and one after the other turn them round and tan their hide, werent that bad just back when your 8-10 years old you have the fear factor alot more. I have been talking as if Mr johnson is no longer with us but as far as i know the old sod is still going strong, about 140 but still going strong, love you Mr johnson. It was at St Vincents I would meet my bestest mates twin brothers Frank and Johnny Ramsay and Mr Adrian Fichardo, more in weeks to come about what me and these lotharios would get up to in the coming years, to the present day.
As I promised though my brother David, Me and his friends.
Like me David went to St Vincents along with his friend Paul Hogan, his younger brother Darren as well as brothers Antony and John Cotter. These were the main set originally that David hung round with and naturally me being the younger brother, tried and mostly succeeded to hang round too. Antony and John lived round the corner for us in a little estate called Moorlands Avenue, Paul and Darren lived in a not too far part of Mill Hill. The boys were all friends and all the parents were friends, there were even parties at different houses every now and again. I remember when we used to go round Paul and Darrens house and they would get their scaelectric (spelling wrong) out and that would keep me entertained for hours. My brother and his mates mainly hung round Moorlands yes they hung round the streets, but it wasnt like it is now and the word CHAV or HOODIE hadnt even been invented, dress sence maybe just as bad though. What i would do is come up to where David and his mates 'were hanging' and make my brother look as uncool as i possibly could, why? because i could. At the same time I would wind up Davids mates which would lead to David having to defend me from his mates, god it was so fun getting on their tits! They use to get me back though I remember once when it had snowed alot in moorlands Paul and Darren ( i believe purposely) came down the hill in a homemade sled and somehow my trouser leg had got caught on the blade causing me to be dragged behind in a indiana jones type stunt. I remember Darren giving me aeroplanes, you know where you hold the arm and leg of someone and swing them round, Darren though put literally a new spin on this by letting me go mid flight, it hurt. I however responded that time by grabbing a skipping rope ( the ones with the solid wooden end) and swinging it in the direction of Mr Darren Hogans face. Im not sure but I think he went to casualty. Alot of this happened over the years by the black gates of Moorlands, but never the less we all still treated each other like brothers.
I just wanted to cramp their style like any annoying shit but their you go, always used to most fun when i done it in front of the girls they fancied. I could never keep up though one week David would be dating a girl (dont worry certain ladies will keep your names out), the next week Paul would be dating her, and the one Paul was dating was now with David or Darren. When the new bash street kid Sean Kelly joined the group he got in on the act. Bloody hell boys back then it was all innocent and all but it was like hanging out with a bunch of Mormons.
I would take my own path and David would take his with his mates and future bands, where as me and my mates would go on too lots of mischeif and mayhem.
I know this alot to read but i will bullet point it with quicker sections to read so I dont bore ya to death, anyway, funny tales to come
TTFN
Matt.