The joy of six .... alternative forms of amusement (I)

Where do i begin with what will probably turn out to be my méa culpa for sins past ?

-Sticking straws up a frog's bum, then blowing really hard until a satisfying stickily explosion of gore ensues ?

-Tying fireworks to a puppy dog's tail and watching the poor pooch desperately scrambling of into the deepest dark of an uncharitable winters' night before it becomes at one with the stratosphere ?

-How about if i said : 'There's nothing better at the crack of dawn than the chorus of a squirming hessian sack, sumptiously filled with helpless, mewling kittens, on their way to meet their maker at the bottom of an old well ?

Hmm ....

I have to confess, ô faithfull (all be-it intermittant) reader of one, that these barbaric acts are only the fruit of my ill-conceived trawlings through the lower nether regions of the british tabloïd press

My own (mis)doings were inches short of a borstal demanding nature

To whit, then, i stand before thee, moistened of eye and head bowed in shame, accused of:

Scrumping apples and pears and plums and radishes and brussell sprouts and potatoes ... all willfully and knowingly taken from the local vicar's garden 10 avé marias duly said :$

But why in heavens STEAL from the parish vicar, one might ask.

Poverty ?
A shameful lack of fresh fruit and veg at home ?
A burning need to defy the church and it's emissaries ?

Well, actually

No !

The reply is a bit more prosaic: my friends and i had this game, a game called 'burn off' where we had to circle each other on our bikes (all categories included : BMX's, racers's, Tomahawks, Lola's etc) and force an opponent to put one foot on the ground

After a while we all became aces at this little lark and so decided to incorporate 'aids' into the 'making-the-other-fall-off' part of the festivities
Sure, we started off small time with tennis balls, lobbed at the head of the other, eventually footballs were allowed as long as long as only the body was aimed for, mud bombs were also allowed (after much consultation between 'clans')

*Batons, tennis rackets and cricket bats being adjudged as to being un-sportsman like

Subsequently, after accords being signed in blood, we started to play 'Death burn off' or Roller ball for kids, if you prefer

It was the same as normal burn off but with the added thrill of trying to maim and injure your neighbourhood 'friend' with stolen (rock hard) root vegetables

Hence the raid into the said priest's un-protected garden of free-for-all

The joy of six .... alternative forms of amusement (II)

What else to did we get upto, on the cusp of adolescence and staying out late after kerfew ?

Well (rubs finger guiltily around shirt collar), at the time we thought that running around the neighbourhood, jumping into back gardens and breaking washing lines was pretty innocent.

I wouldn't say that we targeted specific gardens more than others, but it's fair to admit that we opted for the ones that were easy to enter with low walls, gates that had well oiled hinges and were attatched to houses that had an elderly occupant who didn't have a vicous dog with sharp teeth (poodles and tekels were small fry)

In the same spirit, we also took to using privet hedges as our own trampoline whereby we'd spy a hedge on the way home from school, check out the best escape route 'just in case', then, once it was suitably dark, we'd set about our fun : gloriously diving onto the sponge-like bush.

Points would be awarded for the best and most fearless dive, with a headfirst dive rating a 5, a backwards flop worth a 3 and full 'Star Splash' worth a 8 or a 10 if the bush was 'risky' ie : backed up by a brick wall or leading directly into a garden or (the most deadly) just under a living room window and so in full 'view' to the occupants.

After a few months of bouncing on all things springy, we decided to spice things up with an iron man style challenge:

Who would be the quickest to run around the block with an obstacle course consisting of three broken washing lines, two hedges, a climb onto the roof of Mr Wheeler's garage then jumping from there onto the tree in Mr Woodman's garden then over his wall and onto the shed of Mr Bates ... and so on

I think we must have played this game on and off for about two months ...

... for about two months until we were well and truly rumbled

Rumbled big time, when the seven of us (the two Steves, Sean, Chris, Darrel, Martin and yours truly) got whacked

We'd thought hard about our new course: we wanted a challenge

We'd carefully considered the order of things and who'd start, who'd be the spotter for each run, who'd be the official time keeper (Mikaela, the only girl .. but she was 'little' Steeve's sister, so she didn't count)

We set off on the first run at about seven on a chilly winters evening with Darrel, the youngest, all guns blazing.

He'd made good progress, had Darrel, for someone with short legs, right upto the challenge in Missus Coombes' back yard.

As his spotter, Chris had the unfortunate vanatge point of seeing Darrel take a running jump ... then ... *phwannnngggg* ... he was caterpulted straight up into the air, landed in heap in the dirt with cut lip and his two front teeth 'en moins'

Missus Coombes' son had had enough of changing her washing line every sunday morning and so had replaced the standard nylon one with another in 3mm thick cable ...

Just like dominoes falling, one by one, porch lights came on and front doors opened in response to Darrel's catterwaling

People came out and in a hue and cry worthy of any Dickens novel, dragged Darrel and Chris off to confront their parents (and subsequently to the A&E for Darrel)

And me ?

*Scritch scritch* I was already on my run , was running like the wind, was well inside 'the time' and only had to jump into Mr Witham's hedge for an easy 3 points.

I jumped.
Mr Witham's garage door went *kreeeeek*
Mr Witham was out of his trap
And ....
"They're off"

Sean's already up and over the nearest garden wall wall, off to safety

Me ...

Well, i guess i must've made about fifty yards before old man Witham caught me and started to whack me with his flashlight.

To this day, i'm not convinced that he was giving me a 'good seing to', it was more for show - more about putting the frightners on, as it were

Whatever, as i was cowering on the ground, with the blows raining in and the neighbours pouring out in a true wild west lynch mob stylie ('Gwaaaan do 'im') i could feel my legs becoming warmer and warmer, as if i was lowering myself into a luke warm bath ...

Once dragged back to the Witham house hold :
'Mauuu-reeeeeen, call the police'
'John, don't you think the boy's had enough for one night, look', she said pointing 'the boy's peed in his pants'
'S'not enough'

Never -the-less, i was off scot free, much chastened and highly embarassed

The joy of six ..... post coital commentaries

"I gotta go for a pee" (or take a dump)
Geeeee, thank you !! So, then, for the last hour or so, you've been desperately holding it all in !?! All becomes evident

"It's allllll damp on my side"
And ?

" Phouaaar, what did you eat tonight ?"
You can't talk, i know what you've just been eating

"And ....????"
*crickets* I thought Angie looked really good tonight, all things considered"

"Shiiiiiiiiiit, i forgot to take my pill this morning"
GO TAKE IT NOW,NOW, NOW, NOW

"But i thought you said you had a rubber ?"
"I did"
"Welllllll ........."°_O

The joy of six ... film scene background music

In no particular order, just scenes that spring to mind in a free asociation kinda stylie

My immediate thought was anything by Quentin Tarantino, maybe with the exception of Kill Bill and Inglorious ... he's always had top notch music in his films which could range from oldies dating back to his formative years to others that have stayed, un-tapped, in our collective concscious. But where to start ?

How about this : Spinners wheel and stuck in the middle from Reservoir dogs where in one classic scene we learn all there is to know about the badness of Michael Madson ?

Off on a tangent, who'd a thunk it, given the ambient freedom fries and no to foie gras mood of the time, that we'd see the unlikely teaming up of a little known french music duo (Air) with a 'daughter of' film director (Sophia) to produce a truly brilliant film Virgin suicides

Back to earth with a (british) comedy, which was miles away from the bog standard and god awful Hugh Grant-meets-Andie Macdowal-but-never-quite-beds-her affair.
How about if i suggested Guy Ritchie ?
Again, i could choose from any of his films, but the scene that sums up Snatch is the coursing scene - will the hound get the hare, and if so will Brad Pitt get the caravan for his ma ? (if you've not seen the film, go and rent it forth with : you won't be regret it)

Over to the states, with another film that i really do think will stand out as a classic with it's perfect castng, an excellent subtext and the penultimate scene from American beauty where the mid-life crisis addled hero (Kevin Spacy) thinks he's finally going to make home base. Annie Lennox has 'that' voice.

A roll call of actors, including Patrick Swayze in an unsavoury role ? A disturbed adolescent seeing big bunny rabits ? An airplane reactor ripping through the roof of a suburbian house ?? WTF ?? All becomes more or less clear at the end of Donnie Darko where Gary Jules updates the Tears for Fears classic 'Mad world'

Finally, we come to a Tom Cruise film.
I never have been and probably never will be a fan. But i have to admit that he was good ... okay, very good in Magnolia That being said, i really think that Philip Hoffman is highly underrated and deserves some kind of recognition

The joy of six .....one hit wonders

I would say that a 'one hit wonder' is any group or artist that manages to make a mark on the collective conscience thanks to that 'one' record that comes out at a very particular period - 4 Non blondes for example

Some artists pierced, then sank without a trace. Others managed to live and prosper from it.

After all, it's often been said that everyone's got a book inside of them, screaming to get out, so why not aply the same logic to a pop record ?

Others have a song, a song that just goes on giving.

Take Patrick Hernandez's Born to be alive, who won the eurovision song contest for ireland at the end of the seventies and who subsequently disappeared from concsiousness.

Believe it or not, in France right now, he's still hot stuff and often appears on t.v, gives concerts and is still raking in the royalties: all thanks to that one song

We all grew up with The Buggles who presciently helped launch MTV, then volatilised without leaving a trace.

Who'd a thunk it that the mastermind behind 'ohh a oooh' would continue to produce the biggest names in the industry ... come on down Trevor Horn !

Forget the eighties and it's string of aspiring wannabees who unabashedly made us wobble our unsuspecting butts - we should've known better ...

Think about the complete and utter unadorned dross that was Milli Vanilli, Falco or even the rigid Dr Alban (pineapple haircut and plastic catsuit anyone !?!)

Nahhhn, i'm thinking about real one hit wonders, the people where you think whouarrr what happened to those guys :

1) Layla - Derek and the dominos Surprisingly, it's hard to believe n'est ce pas, that this little gem was never bettered by the group. Admittedly, it was an excursion from Cream for Eric Clapton who even upped the ante with a beautiful blues version in the 90's

2) They Might be Giants - Birdhouse in your soul have a cult following and for my money are highly under-rated whimsical wordsmiths, but surprisingly, have only had one hit to date

3) Nena - 99 red balloons another one that had us pogoing at the school disco after a few shots of orange juice punch laced with illicite rum, whisky, gin, vodka, agricultural alcohol ..photocopier fluid ...romanian anti-freeze .. whatever we could get our grubby hands on

4) Toni Basil - Hey Mickey phouarrrrr, brings back fond memories of a poster that i had on my bedroom wall of Herself, more fruity than Shakira bags more sexy than alll the pooosycat dolls in a hesian sack :^*
"oh mickey what a pity you don't understand, you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand"

5) Edie Brickell & New bohemians I once went out with a girl who was the sosie of Edie B. .. boy was i lucky

6) Blind Melon - No rain This may have been a one hit wonder but it's never far from my i-pod play list. What a waste when one thinks about the lead singer

* Arguably, there are many others missing, but i just wanted to include artists that only made it once and who i could feasibly listen to infront of polite company ;)

*The joy of six ....

Childrens' t.v programs

Like most people who grew up in the U.K in the seventies, i have happy memories of winters being suitably bitingly cold, a respectable layer of snow on the ground,the school heating system breaking down (and two weeks extra holiday thrown in to boot, yoo hooo) sledges made from whatever bits of detrius lying around, interminable snowball fights, chill blained feet and false doses of impetigo spreading around the school yard quicker than ... well ... rumors about Anne-Marie's spontaneously combusting keks

The summer, though, has even fonder, rosier, memories of water fights, scrumping apples from the vicar's orchard, hide 'n' seek where the first one to betray his hiding place was rewarded with a quick slap and general ridicule for being so wimpishly easy to find (the last one discovered,however, would be rewarded with a snog from the aforementioned Anne-Marie of Loosekekingham)

Another highlight for the prepubescent was the arrival of the annual trouncing by the aussies at our national sport. This was always heralded by the emblematic theme tune to Test match Special

Not by any means a childrens program i grant, but to see grown men reduced to tears by the inadequacy of the national team was a leveller; right up until the Botham barnstorm at the end of the seventies, that is.

Despite the 'Cider with Rosie' idyll, there were evidently periods of dull grey wetness in june, july and, habitually, august where there was no cricket, no ice cream van, no trip to the beach, not the slightest glimpse of Mrs Glassman sunbathing in the nuddy in the back garden ... sometimes (often) all we had to watch was the offering of childrens tv to pass the time

The staple fodder was the sometimes double entendred Blue Peter , with John Noakes (who'd get dobbed in for doing arsebruisingly stoopid things to the amusement of all except for he), Valerie Singleton and the other, long haired bloke with his dog that you wouldn't leave alone for ten minutes with your best mate's sister ...

Nah nah nah,kiddies daytime t.v was les masochistic, more wholesome (for the most part) .. but sometimes a bit .. subversive or anarchic

Evidently, one of the first 'rainy day' programs for kids that springs to mind is anything with Rolf Harris : a guy who still, to this day, wants kids to discover 'art'.A bit bonkers to some, maybe, but a 'real' artist who showed kids the way to get involved "Can you see what it is yet ?"

Take Hart is a good example of another artisty guy who'd try to 'awaken' kids. The highlight, morph, was the plastecene man whose onomatapaeïc sounds could be understood by the most backwards of kids in the neighbourhood (yours truly)

I didn't realise this, but Bagpuss has since become a cult figure. The mice (we will wash it, we will scrub it ...), Madeleine the bimbo doll, Gabriel the groovy toad and professor Yatel (the miserable, negative old git) ... luv it luv it luv it

Captain Pugwash :questions are still asked as to whether or not Seaman Stains and Master Bates really existed as crew 'members' on the Painted Pig. Never-the-less, and once again, double entendres abound for those with a trained ear to hear and a tainted spirit to see ...

*An idea happily lifted from the Guardian website