A collection of spurious thoughts on nostalgia, automobilia, music, the meaning of life and other such nonsense from an occasionally over-caffeinated dilettante. Oh and Mad Dog is actually Irish...
Thursday, December 20, 2007
'Fings Ain't What They Used To Be
Mad Dog, at school side door, 1967
Mad Dog, at school side door, 2007 (note to self: don't tuck a scarf into a buttoned up jacket as it makes you look fat)
Somebody, maybe Chertz, said "...depression is the price you pay for nostalgia...". Sometimes true, perhaps, but not always. It depends on the circumstances. If it were, I'd be reaching for a catering pack of anti-depressants by now. On my recent trip back to the UK, I met up with my brother and for a morning we indulged in a shameless walk down memory lane including visiting our old school in surburban Surrey. It was a training day and the building was closed (sounds like a skive to me -these things didn't exist when I was a pupil). The caretaker noticed the two middle-aged men lurking suspiciously in the driveway and after we had convinced him we weren't hooligans he invited us in. Well nostalgia is not a strong enough word to convey the emotions that followed. Still there in the entry hall were the boards with the gilt-enlaid names of all the Head Boys and Girls. The main hall itself, the scene of maybe a 1000 assemblys when I was there, not to mention plays concerts as well as some mass interrogations from the Principal (a future blog topic), looked exactly as it was 40 years ago. The place even smelled the same. Oh memories, what thou art?
Never mind the Prozac, I'm off to pour myself a stiff single malt...!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment