Rimmer Shit (Childhood Memories)
Rimmer
Shit in Jan 2002; Sport, First Football Memories The Sound of Music, Earliest
Memory, Adverts, What’s on the Telly, Toys, Food, Cars, What I did on my
Holidays, Music, Pets, Pissing Contest, Mr Jones, First Day at School, The Play
Area, The Woods, Trespassers will be Prosecuted, The Pond, The River, The Pipe,
The Valley, Why Rimmer Shit?
Rimmer
Shit in Feb 2002: Games, Fancy Girls, Troy Tempest, Football Cards,
Stephen Taylor, Stupid Rules, Starting Sunday School, Monitors and Prefects,
Old Money, House Points, The Titanic Story, story!, Milk, Cubs and Scouts and
Crabs, Anthony, The Mystery House on the Hill, Valley Drive Community, Tony
Woolf’s Birthday, My Birthday, Throwing, Accidents will Happen, Au Pairs,
Claire Jones, The Cows of Valley Drive.
Rimmer
Shit in March 2002: Hymns, Smells, Fear, Alexandra Bastedo,
Superheroes, Blue Peter, Ladybird Books, Bubble Gum and Kicking your Chuddy,
Firearms, House Décor, Summer Time, The
Onion Man, Fashions and Trends, Bike, Trees, Haircuts, Dad, My Bedroom, Mum, St
Ives.
Rimmer
Shit in April 2002: Books, Politicians, Are You Coming out to Play?,
Homework, My Handwriting, F.A Cup Finals, Football Heroes, Flying Machines,
World War II, Gardening, Staying up Late, Boys Feats of Strength, Medicine,
Body Tricks, Parties, Nature Boy, God, Accountancy, What do you want to be when
you grow up?, Weird Contraptions, Famous Numbers from my Childhood, Follow the
Yellow Brick Road, Stupid Things to Do, Who’s Scary?, More Smells, Rhymes,
April Fools Day.
Rimmer
Shit in May 2002: I Double Dare Ya!, John Noakes, Paddling Pool,
Swimming, Spit Wash, Play-Doh, Toilet Training, Gravy and Custard, Kids’
Clothes, Watches, All Right, Meriton Rd Park, Cartoon Characters, School
Dinners, Horrible Food, Bank Account, Early Development, Sporting
Disappointment, The Rex Cinema, Pet Hates, Interlude, Art, The Golf Biscuit,
The Bells, Australia, The Queen.
Rimmer
Shit in June 2002: World Cup final, Rolf Harris, Struggling, Carpets,
How Green was My Valley?, Fishing in Jersey!, The Death of Twitcher, Valley
Sledging, Brazil, See Saw, The Sandpit, Chess, Building Bricks, Father Christmas,
Marta’s Arse, Picture Essay Question, The Garage Door, 70s Décor Car, 60s Décor
Kitchen, Anthony, come down and say hello, It’s a Knockout, Mum, I’m bored,
Belle Vue, Café Royale Berni Inn, Blackpool, Kick Anything, Kid Heroes.
Rimmer
Shit in July 2002: Writer’s
Block, The Nit Nurse, The Doctor, The Dentist, Skippy.
Rimmer Shit in
August 2002: Man United v Sunderland, Holiday Luxury, Complaining
Mothers, What
was Gay?, Rude
Words, Southport,
Mummy’s
taking us to The Zoo tomorrow, Matey Bubble Bath, Still Nothing,
Writer’s Block still in August with this one.
Saturday 31st August 2002
It’s Sunderland v
Man United tonight, live on TV in Australia.
A trivia fact.
The Man United
team that won the European Cup in 1968, only played one other game with the
same players.
The lost 2-1 at
home to Sunderland, in the last game of the season in ‘68
That’s how deep
my footy trivia goes sometimes.
Friday 30th August 2002
When and if you
could drag me away from home, where did I like to stay as a kid?
What were the
luxuries I looked for on my package holidays to Majorca, Spain and Italy, aged
7?
Number 1 of
course, a good swimming pool. That
sorted out most problems, if there was a good large uncrowded swimming pool.
Number 2, plain
food served quickly in the early evening.
Number 3, a place
which didn’t smell too much!
Number 4, short flight
and distance from the airport.
Number 5, a beach
of some sort.
Number 6, other
kids to play with.
Number 7,
entertainment in the evening we could stay up for.
Number 8,
interesting trips.
Number 9, a
holiday rep who I could either really fancy (yes even as a 7 year old), or
wasn’t a bullying embarrassing pain in the arse.
Number 10, funny
waiters.
Number 11, a lilo
to float on.
Number 12, access
to playing football.
Number 13, a
pinball machine.
Number 14, funny
guests who my parents made friends with and entertained us with their
weirdness. I hope my parents
reciprocated the favour.
I didn’t really
care much for what the room was like, as long as it had a bed and a bath.
What more could
you want as a kid on holiday?
Thursday 29th August 2002
I may have
written about this before, but as it’s my theme for today, there’s nothing as
embarrassing as your mother when you’re a kid complaining in Marks and Spencer.
You just wanted
to drag her away as she complained yet again to yet another store about
something.
Actually she
wasn’t a big complainer to stores and shops, never in the top league or even
near.
It was more our
perspective of not wanting to create attention or fuss.
You just wish the
ground could have swallowed you up or you could be invisible or better still,
hide.
And yet today,
and come to think of it last week, there I was going at it with the assistant
manager of the bank last week and the hotel manager this week.
My Mum would have
been proud of me, except when my wife and mother-in-law went in for the kill
today, I dragged them away just as I would my mother, all those years ago.
Nothing really
changes!
My revenge will
be more subversive and less confrontational.
I bear my grudges
for many decades!
Wednesday 28th August 2002
Nothing was gay then, because the word didn’t exist, except for being happy and The Gay Hussars (whatever they were?)
As a kid you didn’t know what sex was let alone what was gay or homosexual.
There wasn’t even a word for it.
All there was, was poof or homo, which were derogatory even then.
What we were left with in the UK was camp innuendo.
Larry Grayson “Shut That Door” and “What a Gay Day”
John Inman “I’m Free”
Dick Emery “You are awful but I like you”, mind you that was him playing
a woman.
I can’t remember his catch phrase for the camp guy he played.
Melvyn Hayes as Gloria in It Aint Half Hot Mum.
And Danny La Rue.
So the only stereotype of what was gay was camp innuendo.
As long as they didn’t stray from that it seemed acceptable.
I was naïve even in my teens to what was gay.
.
Being gay became cool with Tom Robinson and “Sing if you’re glad to be
gay”
Even us very heterosexual boys were gaily singing about being glad to be
gay, hey.
Come to think of it, wasn’t Tom Robinson the first non-camp role model
for gay?
But come to think of it, didn’t he become heterosexual, marry, and have
kids?
Can you become gay? Can you be gay
and change to heterosexual?
Confusing, isn’t it!
Mind you I was once driving back with my Mum from London to Manchester,
and we were talking about what’s attractive.
I said to her that I thought there’s a continuum where a woman ceases to
be attractive, and where a man becomes attractive.
I gave my Mum an example of I’d rather sleep with Robert Redford than
Barbara Cartland,
And just like Raymond’s Mum in “Everyone Loves Raymond”, my Mum declared,
“Anthony, are you trying to tell me you’re gay!”
Gee, no Mum.
I’ve just thought about that weird conversation with my Mum.
Does that mean the proof of non-gayness is sleeping with Dame Barbara
Cartland?
Yikes, I might be gay then!
Tuesday 27th August 2002
What words were rude when we were kids?
Bloody was a definite no-no.
For some reason my Dad decreed Knackered as being a possible no-no.
Of course Shit and Fuck were definitely out.
Sperm I was told was rude, but I didn’t know what it meant.
Damn was just about ok.
Bastard was not ok.
Prick and Dick was ok but not in the presence of your parents.
The jury was out on Fanny.
And of course you could smuggle Pussy into the conversation and make a
whole sitcom out of it.
Of course Gay was happy, and we as kids had an Auntie Gay.
When Larry Grayson said “What a gay day” I thought he was being happy, but
I had my doubts even then.
Penis and Vagina were words you couldn’t even think of let alone utter.
I’m going red now just typing them!
Of course AIDS put a stop to all those stopped Penises if you see what I
mean.
And thinking about it there are other words that you can’t use nowadays
which were in every day use then.
Even typing them now is an absolute no-no. Just watch a re-run of “Love Thy Neighbour”
and you’ll find most of them in that sitcom.
Jew (in the context of “I’ll Jew you for it.”), Nigger, Paki, Wog, Poofta
etc etc.
To my amazement here in Australia, Wog is an acceptable word without the
strong connotations that it would have in Britain.
But here Abbbo, has the strength of Wog in Britain.
I always thought that all our words would become liberated as we
liberalised but it’s amazing just thinking about how language and acceptability
change both ways.
The one that cracks me up the most is a Paul Newman film “Slapshot” which
was banned in most cinema’s in the UK when first on general release, for bad
language.
Go watch it now and you’d think we lived in the Victorian era but a few
years ago.
Violence yes, but bad language, the kind of which is in every day use
nowadays?
My favourite of course is taken from the film Rita Sue and Bob Too, a few
years ago, which seemed to liberate most of the unacceptable words.
It goes something like this,
“You fuckin fuckin fucker, You fuckin Paki”
“It’s not my fault I’m a Paki”
I’ll bet you Warren Mitchell cringes with embarrassment at the language
used in Till Death Us Do Part.
Even if it was a joke, it still seems dated.
And yet then, it was the norm.
There seems to be only one word left that you still can’t use even
nowadays.
Sunday 25th August 2002
Very interesting being in Southport, Queensland today.
Very different to Southport, Lancashire, where we used to go.
An old haunt of my Dad’s.
Apparently he used to land planes on Southport beach.
The beach is famous for being over a mile out to sea when the tide is
out. I can vouch for that bit.
It seemed more than a mile at least as a kid.
But as kids, we didn’t really like Southport that much.
Nothing to do compared with the Kiss Me Quick delights of Blackpool.
Nevertheless, my Dad’s romantic nostalgia for Southport occasionally took
us there.
The only thing I can remember saying to Dad when we used to go to
Southport is,
“Dad, can we see Blackpool and The Tower from Southport?”
He longed for the gentleness of Southport,
We longed for the flash of Blackpool!
Saturday 24th August 2002
Georgia’s first time at the zoo today.
What do I remember about the zoo?
Not much. It was always an
exciting event.
Elephants, Rhinos, Camels, Giraffes, Hippos.
Monkeys, and of course the Chimpanzee tea party.
Aquariums. Boring Deer.
I can’t even remember where the zoos we went to were.
Belle Vue in Manchester.
Did Blackpool have a zoo we went to?
Chester zoo.
It’s strange today, but being brought up with so much Rolf Harris and
Australiana, I saw my first Koala today, and walked with Kangaroos and
Wallabies.
The Koalas were about as active as the toy Koalas my Mum used to buy us,
but at least we used to throw the toy Koalas across the room which is more than
the Koalas did today.
Thursday 21st August 2002
What is the fascination kids have with bubble bath.
Just started putting bubbles in Georgia’s bath.
Actually she’s not taken to them so much, but it reminds me of how absolutely
fascinated with bubble bath I was and especially Matey Bubble bath.
Lord knows why.
The only reason I think of Matey Bubble bath nowadays is because some
green tea served in Chinese and Japanese restaurants, tastes like Matey Bubble
bath.
Is it just me who notices this?
Is it the Jasmine or something?
Tuesday 19th August 2002
And still no more
Rimmer Shit.
I can’t believe
I’ve so dried up on this one.
I need a creative
break, just a bit of time out to think of more childhood silly things.
Most of the new
things I think of, I’ve already covered.
Maybe I need to go back in more detail over what
I’ve already written.
I look to my
daughter Georgia for inspiration, but she’s only 10 months old, so the things I
was conscious of as a child aren’t there yet for her.
It’s coming soon
though.
I’m not going to
let this block hold up the rest of my writing, and besides it’s interesting to
let off a bit of steam here whilst I’m stuck.
Sunday 18th August 2002
There’s
just nothing I can think about to write on Rimmer Shit.
I’d
love to go back to The Valley though, take some pictures, The Pipe and The
River. I’d spend a whole day there
exploring my childhood.
Maybe
even knock on the door of my house and invite myself in.