White Socks and Chalk Dust

Paul Franklin

Description

Proof that truth is often stranger than fiction, this hilarious and poignant account of the unlikely journey of a mobile soft-drink salesman and sometime band member to school headship, is made still more compelling by virtue of the fact that all events leading up to and during this metaphorical mountain climb are entirely true...

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 30 novembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781398461840
• Langue: English

Extrait

To those who strive, dare to dream and believe in life-long learning.
For all family and friends who starred in this epic journey.


Paul Franklin
White Socks and Chalk Dust
An outrageously amusing and poignant true story




Copyright © Paul Franklin 2022
The right of Paul Franklin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398461833 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398461840 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2022
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London E14 5AA


Disclaimer:
Some of the names of individuals featured in this book have been changed to protect identities. Some haven’t, so live with it!


Chapter One
The Challenge
“Oi, pass the tomato sauce, you lanky streak of piss!”
The outburst from our rather diminutive, inebriated bass player, was wrong on two levels; firstly, we were dining in a public place and secondly, Piet had ordered a traditional moussaka which didn’t require it!
Piet always got drunk easily; both on and off stage, but he was, by some country mile, the best musician in our humble group ‘The Bridgemen’. The name derived from the town where we all grew up, chronologically speaking – Bridgeford. He could adapt to any style of music and he enjoyed immersing himself in the ambience of any gig. I always felt that he looked like Kermit the frog playing the bass to Rick our front man’s Miss Piggy.
Bert, our harmonica player, would often imitate Fozzie Bear drinking a pint; exaggerating the opening of his mouth and consuming half his drink in one gulp!
He used to complain about being dizzy through playing too many ‘suck notes’. He was always ribbing me about how I was at an advantage in the looks department…not hard in his case! His attractiveness to the fairer sex came not necessarily from physical attributes, but rather quirky, archaic, endearing comedic qualities; not to mention his eccentricity. Like all of us, he could reveal some annoying habits, such as picking his ears and upon inspecting the content, eating it! I recall children doing this at school and after some lengthy consideration could only conclude it was because they were disgusting individuals!
At times He would try and embarrass me on stage, as on one occasion when out of the blue he pipes up into the microphone with:
“The way you talk about sex anyone would think you’d had it!”
Unconsciously, this time, I replied:
“The way you talk about sex anyone would know you’d never had it!
That prompted a ripple of laughter from the audience and indeed from Bert too. Mine was an impulsive response, but it left me with a feeling of one-upmanship.
I suppose Derek, our banjo player, was more akin to the muppets’ gofer Scooter, but was a remarkable player in the Earl Scruggs style. He doubled up on the guitar and did some singing/song-writing, but he begrudgingly acknowledged my vocal strengths.
Bert always called him ‘Light and Hippie’ because he always ordered a light and bitter combination; a popular beverage of the ’60s and ’70s, mainly because people thought they were getting more drink for their money.
We all of us used to regard Niall’s less-than-average fiddle skills as a ‘bridge too far’. I remember the time only too well, when, as on so many occasions we were invited to play at the local mental health hospital at Shenley. The Shenley Hospital gig was always a source of much surprise and interruptions were always on the menu.
We had always engaged in a diverse range of gigs from concerts to barn dances, even weddings and funerals. This was possible because of the differences in skillsets within the group. I think it’s fair to say that Rick wasn’t the most melodious of singers, but he had a wide-ranging repertoire of songs and quotes that could allow him to perform in front of a multitude of audiences at differently themed events.
In fact, I nicknamed him ‘Click-in Cassette-head’ because he had a library of music for almost any genre: Folk, Irish, American Bluegrass, Country and Western, Popular, Blues and Rock and Roll.
He would often start a set by requesting the audience not to take photographs for security reasons…social security reasons. His finishing line was inevitably:
“If you have enjoyed yourselves half as much as we have, then we must have enjoyed ourselves twice as much as you.”
He was a big hit with the residents of Shenley, especially for these reasons.
It all began quite innocuously with a patient asking Niall if he could play his fiddle. Niall refused over the microphone, but this individual was insistent…so was Niall!
After the first set, the band took a quick break. Niall had gone to get a cup of tea and now this was the patient’s chance. He strode up to the stage and picked up the violin. No one else in the band stopped him. There was always the chance he’d break it! However, this elderly man quite adeptly retuned the instrument and then began playing a concerto with much expression and musical accomplishment, to all our astonishment. His musicality, interpretation and level of ability were truly entertaining!
Now, at some point, Derek, seizing a perfect opportunity, asked the chap if he knew any of the pieces to our second set. He replied:
“Tell me the key, you play, and I’ll follow.”
Well, we did and started playing before Niall could get back. All I can say is that we sounded a lot more professional than when we turned up! This man was amazing and obviously had a classical background. Niall understandably (to flirt recklessly with the understatement) was embittered and of course tried to regain ownership of his violin. We, the rest of the band, wouldn’t let him, so he angrily performed a symbolic military turn and went, leaving his instrument behind. We never saw him again. The programme was a great hit with staff, patients and band members alike!
We offered his instrument to the patient who politely refused, saying that he had a better one. We later tried to get a release for him to play other gigs with us, but administrative bureaucracy wouldn’t allow it. We all felt dejected about this and realised that if he had performed on our LP recording at Abbey Road, we should have appeared on Top of the Pops by now!
Occasionally, we heard news from Rick about Niall’s later ventures and were interested to know that he had set up a dog kennel business; not that interested, mind, until we learned that he had taken in an Alsatian and Shih Tzu the same week and the former had eaten the latter!
Rick said that it had taken some explaining to the owners when they returned from holiday. The whole event prompted a recollection of that callous, although wholly appropriate, phrase ‘dog eat dog’.
However unfortunate Niall’s departure and unsuccessful ventures were, worse was to come. When I saw him at a reunion concert many years later, he was sporting a beard and glasses which made him look exactly like Rolf Harris!
Meanwhile, back at the Greek restaurant, Piet had fallen face first into the leftovers of his dish with a glowing cigarette between his fingers. We had all become a little worse for wear, but I was feeling a little more confident engaging Rick in a debate. I rather foolishly challenged him to a discussion involving politics. Yes, I should have known better! Rick had gone up against Cecil Parkinson in the Hertsmere elections as the Labour candidate.
Although maudlin at times, Rick was a big gun in this department. He was ‘an intellect’, highly intelligent and very well read. In fact, what we teachers would regard as a reader as opposed to someone who could read. He would consume books as if they were food. He could eat his way from here to China… and China’s a bloody long way!
Well suffice to say, I didn’t last long… went down like a flamer with Rick’s cannon-shell words resonating in my ears!
“What do you know about politics? you’re just a Sun reader! He said.
I wasn’t, but I might just as well have been.
To add further injury by way of his rapier wit he continued with his character assassination:
“What you know about politics you could write on the back of a postage stamp in aircraft sky-writing with enough room left over for the Lord’s prayer in a bold flowing hand!”
Both Rick and Fozzy were teachers. Rick had gone through the lengthier process of a degree, whilst Bert, who had been in primary teaching for much longer, had a teaching certificate. Bert could have progressed much further in teaching if he hadn’t been trapped in the 19th century using archaic terminology, loquacious vaunting and imagining himself to be Dickens’ Mr Gradgrind.
Conversely, Rick couldn’t have progressed in teaching because he was far too emotional and too much of a politician. Indeed, he ended up as a teaching union representative…and a good one at that.
Nevertheless, having lost round one emphatically, I challenged both Rick and Bert in their educational capacities, announcing confidently, though less modestly, that I could easily do their jobs and even progress further than they. Rick and Bert pounced on the declaration like bloodhounds and upped the ante by giving me a time limit including that necessary to secure me a degree.
At the end of the ev