My 60s – Second Fabulous Review

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The book’s only been out a week and already people have read it, are enjoying it and the reviews are starting to roll in.

This is the latest from Brian Beck:

It’s about a boy growing up in 1960’s England. He fell in love with the new music of the time. So did his friends. They didn’t want any part of the humdrum existence of their parents’ nine-to-five. Straightlaced folks called them freaks. This is their story told in the first person by how the writer remembers them. It’s a wonderful first-hand account of a bygone era. A time that didn’t last long enough but the writer was there at the right time and place. And he captures it beautifully. The book is full of humorous and tragic anecdotes about significant historical moments in music history, hair-raising escapades, intercontinental travel, dubious substances, and especially young love. It will have you checking out the many named musicians and bands online. It’s a warm, easy read with the author whispering to you as if sharing secrets. Some chapters are melancholic, other parts laugh out loud hilarious with the bizarre antics of folks living on the edge and loving it. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It’s full of bittersweet soul and lost innocence. I wished it was even longer and more detailed. Highly recommended. 5*

Thanks so much Brian – gave me a boost!

My 60s: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798253680780: Books

The First Review!

Posted on by Opher

Thanks so much Trevor. Really appreciate that!

My 60s: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798253680780: Books

trevor phillips

5.0 out of 5 stars My60s (the spirit lives) my 60s too

Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 17 April 2026

Format: Paperback

A Brillant wander down memory lane, Opher’s book My 60s is a fantastic journey of what we all may have experienced. It is both humorous and insightful. It jogs one’s memory creates feelings of joy and a little remorse. If you are a lover of great music and musicians, you will enjoy reading this book. I couldn’t put it down. I was going to read on a flight to Thailand however it will now be reread on that flight. Great stories from a bygone age. Love and peace the freaks live on.

Something for Everyone!

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Go on – Treat yourself!

Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: books, biography, latest update

PS – thanks for all the great reviews, ratings and comments. All greatly appreciated!

Go On – Treat Yourself!

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Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: books, biography, latest update

All deliciously available in Hardback, Paperback and eBook

The Cleansing – 47 – Chapter 25 (continued)

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The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Collaboration between Aliens and humans:

Ron watched the interview with mixed feelings. The coldness of her abduction might well fuel the fears of the protestors but overall the tone felt reassuring. The abducted were beginning to return. While their abductions had been terrifying the process they had been put through did not sound too gruesome and the end result seemed satisfactory, even positive.

Gillian, the cold-hearted vulture capitalist, was no longer following a trajectory that brought her great wealth, albeit at a great emotional cost, and was going to follow a more positive, rewarding career. That felt like a positive outcome.

According to Gillian and her husband she was still much the same as she had been except more empathetic and compassionate. She was a vindication of the rehabilitation process.

Surely the protestors would see that as a positive outcome? Surely they were not in favour of asset stripping leeches who left such misery and despair in their wake?

There was no way of telling. There did not appear to be any rationality behind the protests. It was all high-octane emotion. All Ron could hope for was that the return of the rehabilitated took the wind out of all those conspiracy theories. The abducted weren’t dead of brainwashed. That had to be good.

A flicker of hope raised its head.

The ‘Freedom March’ had its epicentre at Trafalgar Square. People were bussed in from all over Britain and flew in from all over the world. It was estimated that over two million attended the protest. They marched along all the arteries converging on the square carrying their banners, waving placards, with loudhailers leading the chanting:

‘Out Dragons Out!

‘Out Dragons Out’.

Within a short while the square was packed. Then all the roads leading to the square were clogged. London was brought to a seething halt.

Boisterous, noisy and angry, but not violent. The stewards vainly attempted to corral the crowds and the huge police presence provided a huge restraining force. The atmosphere remained charged.

Ron and Chameakegra sat in Ron’s office in New York, watching the mass protest with mounting anxiety. They had done everything they could. There had been no way of banning the protest. The groundswell had been too great. They relied on containing it. Every measure had been taken; every single body they could muster was there. But with two million people the outcome was not predictable. Chameakegra had urged Grrndakegra to keep all aliens out of sight. She had not wanted their presence inflaming the situation. Grrndakegra had readily agreed but informed her that his forces would be poised. If things kicked off they were prepared to go in and sort things out. Violence would not be tolerated and aggressive Hydrans would soon find that out.

Chameakegra did not like the sound of that but this was under Grrndakegra’s jurisdiction. All she could do was watch.

Grrndakegra chose to watch events from the Quorma where she seated herself down for a ringside view and could direct operations. She did not invite Chameakegra to join her so she settled herself nervously on the Neff.

The mass of people were crushed into the square looking towards the giant screens that had been erected, waiting for Billy to deliver his words.

All seemed to be going well right up until the missiles started flying. Little groups of protestors seemed to spring up among the crowds, all dressed in similar balaclavas, and flinging what looked like darts into the crowd. It sparked panic. There were people with darts stuck through their skulls, one with a dart in the eye. What was an orderly crowd rapidly decayed into a hysterical mob. People were crushed as the crowd tried to escape the missiles, pushing shoving, screaming. Then windows started going in. Once the fire had been lit the flames spread like crazy. Fear fed anger, anger transformed into fury and fury looked for a suitable target. The police tried to stem the riot but were soon overwhelmed. Blood-splattered people, frantic to escape, trampled others who had fallen to the ground. Carnage reigned.

The graphic scenes of violence and rampage were relayed to Ron and Chameakegra as police battled with inflamed rioters while first aiders tried to deal with the injured and ambulances carted off the crushed and beaten. Pepper spray hung in the air, glass was strewn over pavements and angry mobs, not knowing what had caused the disturbances hurled abuse and venom at the authorities.

This was the mayhem that Ron and Chameakegra had most feared.

Grrndakegra watched from the Quorma with a grim satisfaction. Even better than Clacton. Anyone would have thought this had all been planned. She sent the order for the Giforian ‘peace keepers’ to go in. Things were about to get a whole lot worse when the fearsome looking Giforians and Drefs started wading in.

Beheggakegri received the visual reports.

A great elation welled up inside him as the insipient frustration receded. He felt his appetite returning. He might not need to call upon that Ollyx Ce Frolli after all. That was a relief.

Grrndakegra had excelled herself. Time for another showdown with the committee. He stuffed a few dainties into his buccal cavity. Perhaps the committee could wait a little while longer. It was so pleasant to bask in the tranquillity of success. Besides, it would allow those Hydran scenes to fester in their crops. Beheggakegri felt elated. He settled back to rerun the tridee reports – stupid inflamed Hydrans hurling themselves at police, properties on fire and valiant Giforians plucking violent Hydrans from the rioting crowds. Gore, glass, missiles, debris and fury. Sure made for compulsive viewing.

So much for intelligence and responsible citizens looking to take their place in the Federation. Everyone could see these feral space vermin for what they were – hopelessly vile demented apes – beyond all hope of redemption.

He helped himself to another tumbler of synth and waved for Limo to keep producing the dainties. No need to send this round to the committee members. They already had their links. Just sit back and savour the fall of drangling Commander Chameakegra.

Let the committee contact him and request they reconvene.

He was loving this. This would completely vindicate him and cement his power.

Amazon.co.uk: Ron Forsythe: books, biography, latest update

The Cleansing – 46 – Chapter 25

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The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Chapter 25 – Experiences – Ups and Downs

Commander Chameakegra met Ron at the airlock as he was ushered in to the massive H-craft by the Marlan pilot. Ron was struck speechless by the enormity of what he was seeing. So much he had not thought about or realised. He had not even begun to imagine where all the armies of Xerces and other aliens had come from. Of course, they had come from here, from the Ness, where else? It had to be large to accommodate such a vast number.

Chameakegra led him through the corridors to her private quarters where she proudly regaled him with her collection of Hydran creativity. Not that Ron was at all impressed. The familiarity of the Hydran art and culture robbed it of worth; it was the H-craft and its denizens that had impacted on him. The colossal ship was a mobile city. He could not imagine the propulsion system necessary to propel it or the way this number of people could be catered for. How did they feed and support this vast number of people?

Chameakegra quickly realised that she was wasting her time trying to impress him with her indulgence in Hydran culture. Following a brief set of refreshments she took him on a lightning tour. There were things she wanted him to see.

‘This is one of the nerve centres,’ she said, showing him into what looked like an endless arena of carrel units manned mainly by large Leffs with a liberal number of Minorians and smattering of Solarians, Jerbs, Marlans and Giforians. Ron stood speechless inside the portal, staring in disbelief at the army of aliens, bustling around, talking, exchanging views and working at their terminals.

‘This is where the assessment takes place,’ Chameakegra explained. ‘Neff is scanning the information and collecting data. That is processed and these people are accessing, directing and refining. We have built up a picture of all Hydran cultures as well as individuals.’

‘That is utterly unbelievable,’ Ron replied, open-mouthed, staring around at the enormous room. He could not imagine the number of terminals or aliens he was looking at. The place went on further than he could see. ‘How many of these centres do you have?’

‘We have ten of these centres on different levels,’ Chameakegra explained matter-of-factly. ‘There’s a lot of data to process.’

‘Even so,’ Ron mumbled, having difficulty getting his head around the sheer enormity of the scene in front of him, let alone nine more the same.

‘An assessment is a thorough operation,’ Chameakegra assured him, watching his reaction with some amusement. To her this was mundane. ‘Every detail is scrutinised. We don’t like to leave anything to chance. Not only have they accumulated the information for the assessment but they have the data on individuals that have enabled us to complete the extractions and carry out the rehabilitation.’

‘I thought that was all complete?’

Chameakegra gave her Giforian chuckle. ‘It’s never complete. The pressure’s off now. You can see everybody is relaxed. All this casual interaction you are witnessing today. When we were carrying out the assessment proper everybody was focussed. You could have heard a whisper. Everybody was at their terminal directing Neff and processing and storing data. An assessment is only as good as the data you collect.’

‘Shit in; shit out,’ Ron muttered, staggered by the size of the operation. Seeing the Neff and its crew suddenly put the Federation into perspective. He had not quite grasped the enormity of the Federation. ‘Is Grrndakegra’s Quorma on the same scale as this?’

Chameakegra looked amused. ‘Of course. All H-craft are constructed on the same principles. Grrndakegra’s is not manned or set up for an assessment though. The Quorma was sent to carry out an eradication. That’s why the crew are mainly Giforian and Dref.’

Ron turned to her with a shocked expression.

‘It’s alright,’ Chameakegra said, realising the alarm she had triggered. ‘The eradication’s on hold. The Quorma and its crew have been redeployed to carry out the extractions for the rehabilitation. We provide them with the necessary information.’

Ron studied Chameakegra’s face as she explained this. It was as if she had not registered the impact of what she had said. An eradication. The crew of the Quorma might have been temporarily redeployed but they were there to carry out a more sinister task and that had not gone away.

The Earth was sitting under the Sword of Damocles. There was no way of telling when that blade would arc down. That depended on distant powers and Grrndakegra. That hung on the success of Chameakegra’s experiment and the rehabilitation process. And Chameakegra’s experiment was completely dependent on the success that Ron made of the global government.

‘So, Gillian, you are newly back from a rehabilitation centre?’ The interviewer was a young, attractive blonde who was considered camera-friendly, purred.

Gillian was seated next to her husband on a chintzy sofa.

‘Can you tell us about your experience?’

‘It was terrifying,’ Gillian recalled. ‘These massive giant reptiles burst in and dragged me away.’

‘I was helpless,’ her husband explained. ‘They just brushed me aside.’

‘I was bundled into this craft with a horde of other terrified people and we were whisked away. I honestly thought we were all going to die. It was horrendous. I was absolutely terrified.’

So what happened?’

‘When they had crammed in as many as they could they took us off.’

‘Where exactly?’

‘Well I understand that the facilities were on the moon but it could have been anywhere. The journey certainly wasn’t very long. All we saw was the inside of the craft. People were whimpering and wailing the whole time. Some were so scared they’d actually soiled themselves. The most terrifying time of my life. We really thought they were taking us off to murder us.’

‘What about on the moon?’

‘Could have been anywhere,’ Gillian gripped her husband’s hand. ‘Just white corridors and rooms.’

‘What happened next?’

‘We were assigned rooms…’

‘What were they like?’

‘Well, basic really, not uncomfortable, places to eat and sleep, good food.’

‘But you didn’t know you were on the moon?’

‘No. Strangely the gravity felt normal. Everything felt normal, except we were caged up.’

‘What happened next?’

‘After a while the treatment began.’

‘Treatment?’

‘Yes, we were given some medication and made to sit in these special chairs. I remember lights and voices. It was all very vague and weird.’

‘How did it make you feel?’

‘Well, the medication may me feel all woozy, not unpleasant though and to start with I was relieved. If they were doing this I figured that they weren’t about to bump me off. Then I began to panic a little. I thought they might blank my mind or something. That was scary.’

‘How long did this last?’

‘I’ve no idea. There was no sense of time. I had three sessions. They could have been minutes, hours or days. No way of telling.’

‘And did it make you feel different?’

‘No, not at all,’ Gillian’s husband hugged her to him. She laughed. ‘I’m still the same Gillian I’ve always been.’ She glanced to her husband for confirmation. He smiled and nodded.

‘I’m just glad to have her back whole and unharmed.’

‘I see,’ the pretty interviewer added, looking very grave, ‘that must have been a relief. But Gillian can I ask you what it was that you did that might have made these aliens single you out for this terrifying process?’

‘I was what you might call a vulture capitalist. The Deutsche Bank employed me to strip assets out of failing companies and pay off the workers.’

‘A lucrative career?’

‘Oh yes,’ Gillian replied. ‘It has bought us this mansion in the suburbs and that Porsche in the drive but it had a downside. All that anguish. It took its toll. You became hardened to it. All that anguish and despair. Some people committed suicide you know. I had to shut my mind to the misery they were experiencing. It wasn’t just their jobs; it was their mortgages, cars and whole life. People lost everything. It was so heart-breaking.’

‘But you did it?’

‘Yes. If I hadn’t done it somebody else would. I just had to blot all that out. Like I put it in a compartment.’

‘So what do you think the therapy that they gave you did?’

‘It opened that box, made me look at the reality of what I had been doing.’

‘I see, and what are you going to do now? Are you going back to work?’

‘Oh no,’ Gillian replied with a shudder, ‘I’ve started a fast-track training into teaching.’

‘Do you feel terrible about it all now?’

Gillian looked thoughtful. ‘You know, in a way I feel glad. That job brought us a lot of money but the cost was enormous. It feels like it deadened part of me. Nothing felt fulfilling. I think teaching will make me feel more content.’

Amazon.co.uk: Ron Forsythe: books, biography, latest update

Adventures from the Sixties!

Posted on by Opher

London, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles and all points in between.

My Sixties
The Spirit Lives
Not the sixties you’ve seen before.
This is the underground.
The real story.
Music, movement, philosophy.
A life lived through gigs, travel, friendships—and the edges of experience.
Part memoir, part autobiography, part raw collection of memories, this is a personal journey through a defining decade. Told through photographs, anecdotes, and reflections, it captures the spirit as it was lived—not as it’s been packaged since.
No Carnaby Street. No pop gloss.
Just the underground scene as I knew it.
From Kerouac to Zen, Kesey to Leary.
From IT and OZ to Dylan, Hendrix, and Pink Floyd.
From Hyde Park free festivals to Roy Harper and Abbey Road.
This is the sixties from the inside.

My 60s: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798253680780: Books

Another look at my books

Posted on by Opher

I’m not sure that these are all of them. Thought you might like to have a trawl through and every purchase a dozen or so? Who knows? They are all available in paperback with most as eBooks, some as hardbacks and many as audios!

Anyway, thanks for looking and I sure am grateful for all reviews on either Amazon or Goodreads!

Thank you!

These are my books – Why not take a look?

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Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: books, biography, latest update

Thank you!

My 60s – now in Hardback too!

Posted on by Opher

I thought it was about time that I wrote a candid recollection of the decade that has defined my life.

The sixties was a fabulously optimistic period to have lived through.

It was the decade in which I changed from a boy to a man. The Beatles altered history. Dylan altered our consciousness.

It was fun recounting my numerous adventures, the music, social changes, attitudes and times.

I was a young kid with principles and attitude.

Adventures with the counterculture in the London underground.

Meeting Roy Harper and going to Abbey Road Studios, hitch-hiking around America, love and life.

A memoir, an autobiography, anecdotes and insights.

I was there. I lived it – and I remember.

My 60s eBook : Goodwin, Opher: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: books, biography, latest update

Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: books, biography, latest update