The Good Old
Days
by Ian Curtress
I was born at
a very young age in fact premature. My Mother
hadn’t even met my Father.
10lbs 12ozs at
birth (in old money) k and g hadn’t been
invented. A rather heavy weight I understand.
Mother always wanted good value. I remember being
very damp and Father saying he wants changing.
Mother said we’ll keep him, might get an
uglier one if we take him back.
Anyway, I
survived those early years when things were tough.
Father
struggled finding work. He was taken on as night
watchman in a piano warehouse but first night
lost the keys. Applied for Steward on Titanic but
failed the interview. Never got over the
disappointment. Tried zoo attendant but they paid
peanuts. He was musical, played the violin. They
offered him a part time job playing in the
Theatre intervals. But when they said he would
have to stay late to play God Save the Queen. He
wouldn’t stand for it.
Decided to
start a business.
Had a
cardboard box enterprise for a while but that
folded. Best attempt was a tobacco shop but he
was unlucky with that. Went up in smoke. He was
going to try model aircraft but it didn’t
take off.
Mother did
anything that came her way, said you can’t
be fussy when your prostitute.... think that was
the word.
I liked school,
it was warm. Teacher was enthusiastic about my
learning, said I had hidden talents, it was just
they couldn’t find them. Winters didn’t
help, had to sit on doorstep waiting for street
lights to come on so I could do my homework.
Just after
that I was asked to leave to make room for a
child with shoes.
Loved
Christmas, Mother made a big Christmas pudding (put
IOU’s in, didn’t have coins).
Sat around the
fire, saved all bills and final demands through
the year and put a match to them Christmas Eve.
Mother took in
washing, other people’s if they weren’t
watching and I was always spotless. Wore long
sleeves to hide them. Had measles, they were on
offer, couldn’t afford rickets.
Had a good
family doctor, well he had a family. But was not
always reliable. I broke my arm and went to see
him and he looked at it for a while, used to
think on his feet, hadn’t a chair, then gave
me a bottle of white stuff. I asked what I should
do with it and he said keep it on the shelf in
case you get a stomach upset.
Anyway I
survived and later on volunteered for the Army. I’m
told my Grandfather was a military man.
Volunteered for the Boar War. Thought it was
hunting pigs. They asked what he wanted to be, he
said White flag carrier. Fortunately they thought
that funny and gave him another chance so he said
Medic. Asked if he had any experience he said a
Sister with ringworm and an Uncle with gout.
They asked
where was the tibia and he thought they were
looking for the cat.
It was about
that time there seemed to be doubt about my
nationality. Said I was a delinquent. Can’t
find it on the map!
(More
to follow. How I split the atom.)
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