This is my second post, I hope you found the first one to your liking and thanks for your comments. Always happy to hear from you.
Yesterday, 22 November, was a special day for two reasons. Personally, it was special for us as it was our wedding anniversary. We met on the day in 1984, got engaged in 1985 and tied the knot in 1986. We were going to go out yesterday evening but decided to stay in and enjoy ourselves with boss cat Giorgio.
Yesterday was very special for countless numbers of people who inhabit this planet because it was the day that President John F Kennedy was assassinated. Do you remember where you were on that day? I do.
In 1963 I was fourteen. My home life was virtually non-existant as was my attendance at the Beaufoy school of learning in Lambeth. On that fateful day I had travelled back from the West End of London on a number twelve bus to Peckham. Sleeping rough in Soho did have its advantages because you met a great cross-section of people, of all races and nationalities. The working girls were particularly nice to me, keeping me supplied with cigarettes and the odd bag of chips as well as a clip around the ear if I crossed the line, if you get my meaning.
Anyway, as I was walking along Peckham Grove I saw my mother letting herself into number twenty. Normally, I tried to make my trips back to what laughingly masqueraded as home, when I knew that mother would be elsewhere. I'd obviously got it wrong. As I was in need of money, of which there was a small amount hidden in a shed in the back garden, I decided to go for it and let myself in. Mother immediately confronted me using a selection of her favorite words which included 'obstreperous' and ' bastard'. As usual, I ignored her and went about my business. After a period of time I'd tired of her tirade so I left and decided to visit my cousins husband who lived around the corner in Gloucester Grove.
John Lamont was about as popular as I was in the Wilcox clan because he had a mind of his own and would not be intimidated. We settled down to eat cheese sandwiches and smoke Capstan full strength fags. As we were discussing the merits of the various members of the current Tottenham Hotspur football team we heard, on the radio, that President Kennedy had been assassinated. Although we didn't know much about him it was quite obvious that he was special and we sat and listened as the events surrounding his death unfolded. Later that day I left before my cousin Pat came home from work because she was a miserable bitch who fitted in perfectly with the Wilcox mob. John was different and thought the world of her. Love is blind, and in his case, deaf. When I got back to my favorite haunts in Soho, the assassination was the talk on the streets for days to come.
I can also remember, vividly, where I was when I heard that John Lennon had been killed. Tell you next time.
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
'Abstinence make the heart go faster'.