I was introduced into the suburbs of post-war London in 1949. My father a returning dispatch rider stationed in Naples, my mother worked in the War Office in Churchill’s bunker.
As a child I ran free in the countryside, in the midst of nature, with pet crows, snakes, guinea pigs, rabbits, mice and rats. As a sun-bronzed hyperactive ragamuffin I spent my life up trees, building camps, in ditches and ponds and hunting lizards. Idyllic and free.
As a pre-teenager I discovered rock ‘n’ roll, then blues, girls and excitement. I found myself booted out of cubs, scouts, cadets and seemed to annoy certain people in authority by not wanting to behave or look like they wanted me to look. I was scruffy and wild.
As a teenager I grew hair, was constantly being sent home, had numerous girlfriends, was mad about the Beatles, Who, Pretty Things, Small Faces, Kinks, Yardbirds, Stones and Bob Dylan and started going to live gigs (the Birds, Them and Downliners Sect) and was reading Sci-fi.
By the mid-sixties to late-sixties I was reading Kerouac, Ginsberg and Henry Miller. I’d scraped into college to do a Zoology degree and was firmly entrenched in the London Underground scene – Middle Earth, UFO, Marquis, Les Cousins, Roundhouse. Three gigs a week. I saw almost everyone. Now the likes of Captain Beefheart, Roy Harper, Frank Zappa, Hendrix, Cream, Son House, Jackson C Frank, Country Joe and the Fish, Neil Young, Incredible String Band, Phil Ochs, Velvet Underground and Joni Mitchell joined the fray. Words were my thing. I was a sucker for good lyrics, poetry and clever wordsmiths. I was frequenting Abbey Road studios as a friend of Roy Harper with hair down to my arse, a motor-bike and a head swirling with idealism and wild dreams. I met and set up home with my life-long sweetheart.
For four or five years I was in the centre of the storm. It swirled around me and through me. My evenings spent with friends, sharing, toking, arguing, discussing and listening to music I a mad whirl of interaction and revelation. The music was central. I started writing.
By the mid-seventies the sixties dream had long died and reality hit home. Then Punk hit and I was surging on the tsunami of Sex pistols, Ian Dury, Elvis Costello Stiff Little Fingers and Gang of Four. We had four great kids and I needed an income. I spent thirty-six years in teaching and had a great life opening young minds and expanding horizons. Teaching was a joy. I became a Head Teacher in a Comprehensive Secondary School. The energy and idealism of the young kids gave me nourishment. I kept writing.
We travelled the world, kept gigging and discovering and I started publishing my books.
Now I am here.
27.12.2024
