1969 - 70.

The new young male progressive primary school teacher
who had fresh enthusiasm for the job and something to prove.
He recognized potential in 10 year old me;
encouraging and indulging my creative writing
and setting up after school hobby clubs & projects
that gave me opportunities to take on responsibility
and boost my self esteem.
I believe it was his first year as a Teacher
and maybe he made something of a project of me.

I was one of the select few from our school and council estate
who passed the 11 plus 'passport to a better life' at Grammar School.


1976 - 77

The elderly woman 6th Form college English teacher, close to retirement.
She had a soft spot for me.
My prowess at writing and my fluid command of vocabulary and grammar was at it's peak.
She also indulged me, seeming to delight in my attempts to subvert every formal written exercise with as much surreal nonsense & flippant flights of fancy as I could possibly get away with.
Her years of experience of 17 year olds in our town
had probably alerted her to my after school rock band activities
and dawning experimental enthusiasm for dope & mushrooms.
Later in the year closer to 'A levels',
it must have become quite apparent that I was losing my focus
and sliding towards failure.
She took me to one side after last class, doing her best to guide me back,
showing genuine affection and concern for my future.
Trying to motivate me to work harder to become the full time writer
she knew I had talent to be.
I let her down badly.

My exam results were passes, but much worse grades than my parents and College had long hoped for.

I was an 18 year old punk band guitarist in a run down provincial town and I didn't care.


..and here I am now still awake at gone 5 in the morning struggling clumsily to organise and express ideas
in language that no longer comes easily to mind.
It took most of this afternoon to remember one word
that was on the tip of my tongue but too far out of reach..

Proves if you don't use it, you lose it.