I remember well those childhood Sundays when my brother and I would walk across Ladbroke Grove in Nawff Lunnon, and suck lemons in front of the Salvation Army brass band that played outside the Spread Eagle pub.

Stopped 'em in their tracks, it did.

I lost count of the times we were chased two hundred yards by angry, sweating musicians with spittle from their flooded instruments leaving a slimy trail

Then one Sunday we ran slap bang into P.C. Robinson. Ears ringing from the hefty clouts he used to propel us homeward, we then had an interview with Dad, which removed any inclination to eat sitting down for more than 24 hours.

But those buggers woke us up two hours before we wanted waking, and the sight of them dribbling as the music choked off into silence....HELL, IT WAS WORTH IT!

Don T.