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.
Rimmer Shit in
September 2002: Smell not Voice, Your Dad, Cup Finals, First Sea Trip, First Sea Dip, Things you can’t eat when you’re a grown-up,
Before
Reading, Balloons,
Swings, America, Yom Kippur, Leeds United,
Marks and
Spence Butter Pop-Corn, Tragedy, Comedy, Badedas, Posh People, Tennis Heroes, The Green Green Grass of Home, Bullying, Teenage Worship,
Fathers Days.
Monday 30th September 2002
They say that smell is the most powerful memory invoking sense.
And thinking about my Dad, it’s true that I can remember his smell but
not his voice.
I’d recognise his voice if I heard it again but I can’t recall his pitch
or accent.
But his smell, especially when coming home from work, is deeply embedded
in my memory.
Also his rhythmic walk. Because of
his arthritis he walked with his arms swinging because his spine was frozen.
He turned his whole body and not his neck to look around
When I see other people with Ankylosing Spondylitis walking along, it
reminds me of Dad.
We did have his voice on a wire recorder (preceded tape recorders) but
that got broken and lost in time.
Sunday 29th September 2002
Your Dad’s your Dad, isn’t he?
Enough said.
He’s just there, in the background, out at work.
There if you want him.
Advice given and when asked for.
The Boundary Setter.
The Money bank.
The Provider.
The Authority.
The Protector.
The Reality Check.
The Truth.
Thanks Dad.
Saturday 28th
September 2002
Just witnessed the Aussie Rules Grand Final.
They say it was one of the best ever.
What were my memories of cup finals and what was my favourite?
My first was the 1968 F.A Cup final West Brom v Everton.
Funnily enough I loved them all and remember them all.
Man City v Leicester, Neil Young the scorer lived a 100 yards from
us.
Chelsea v Leeds, the first replayed cup final, I think.
Arsenal v Liverpool, bloody lanky haired Charlie George.
Leeds v Arsenal, Mick Jones damaging his arm crossing the ball to
Alan Clarke for the winning goal.
Other cup finals of memory.
Man United v Benfica in the 1968 European Cup.
I don’t remember any other European Finals early on, and I don’t
think they were shown on TV.
The big thing was the F.A Cup Final day and the build up from the
morning.
All the previous cup finals, how the teams got to the final, It’s a
Knockout, The players wives, unusual facts and omens.
The build up to the Aussie Rules Grand Final is still the same
whole day, not so much with the F.A Cup which somewhere along the line lost the
interest of many, unless you support the teams in the final. And even then, Man United can’t even be
bothered to show up to try and make a final.
Man United have simply won it too many times to notice.
We weren’t saying that in the late 60s and early 70s.
Also there were more underdog teams making it all the way.
And more of a chance of a giantkilling.
Looking at the list of F.A Cup Finals, I think I lost the plot in
1992, Liverpool v Sunderland?
Can anyone remember that one?
Worse still I can’t currently remember Man United v Newcastle in
’99, and that was the treble.
Now of course the semi final in 1999 I do remember.
My all time favourite goal.
Giggs.
Thursday 26th September 2002
We were never a sea faring family.
As far as I can remember, we never went to sea, no Isle of Man, no Isle
of Wight, no Ireland, no France, nothing.
Consequently, my first sea trip was on Lake Geneva. I was sick as a
dog. And no Mummy to hold my head!
Kind of ironic that my first boat trip wasn’t even on sea but on a big
lake in Switzerland.
I felt so ill with seasickness, that it cured me from seasickness for the
rest of my life.
Whilst I’ve witnessed others throwing up left right and centre on
subsequent trips, somehow I’ve managed to survive, usually by finding the
centre of the boat where it rocks the least, curling up, and praying!
Wednesday 25th September 2002
My daughter aged 1 + 1 day, took her first dip in the sea today.
What is the first dip I can remember?
Israel in 1965 comes to mind, so I was 4.
I’m sure I must have dipped in the sea in the South of France when I was
less than 1, and Blackpool and Southport sea as well.
Also, St Annes just south of Blackpool with sand dunes.
I also remember aged about 5 on seeing the view from our hotel, claiming
I could swim across the bay.
I couldn’t even swim at the time of the claim, but I couldn’t tell the
difference between what my eyes told me looking at the bay, and the reality of
swimming it, if you see what I mean.
I remember big waves in Jersey in ’68 engulfing us, so I was 7, of course
snorkelling around in Majorca and Spain for the following few years.
I’ve never been a key sea swimmer.
Too cold, too much unknown, sand is a pain in the arse!
Lying on the edge of sea was sometimes fun, but how do you get rid of the
sand afterwards?
Tuesday 24th September 2002
Jelly
Candy Floss
Flying Saucers
Sherbet
Chocolate Coins
Candy Cigarettes
Lollipops (unless you’re Kojak)
Monday 23rd September 2002
What was life like before reading?
Difficult to remember that far back, but I distinctly remember having 2
sticker books, one the writing and one with numbers, I think one of them was
snow white.
I just didn’t know what to make of the one with the writing, I couldn’t
read!
I remember a bit about learning to read, the books, but it’s a long time
ago.
What else? Can’t think of much else on not reading.
As a kid it didn’t seem a hindrance, in fact come to think of it, hasn’t
reading only been around for 500 years?
So it’s probably more natural to not read.
And learning to read just seemed such a natural thing to do.
I don’t remember it being a struggle.
Now learning to tell the time for a while was a struggle, but I had a clock
with the written time on, so once I could read I could tell the time!
Sunday 22nd September 2002
And talking of gravity defying swings yesterday, reminds me of my other childhood obsession, Balloons.
I so loved balloons. Of course it reminds you, as a kid, of partytime.
But so much more. You can hit balloons, you can hit other people with balloons.
You can practise football skills and look good with balloons.
You can burst balloons.
You can fill them with water.
You can get more sophisticated and stick them to the wall using just static.
They cost next to nothing, last for ages and come in many colours and shapes.
Oh and weird magicians used to make animals out of them by twisting long balloons.
But me, I favoured the standard round balloon, or just maybe the one that was standard with a red nose on the end!
More a way of life than a toy!
Saturday 21st September 2002
Just put my 1
year old on a swing today, not for the first time, but it reminds me of my
addiction to swings.
Even today if I’m
walking in the park, I still kick a child off the swing and have a go myself!!
I can’t remember
my first swing. We didn’t have one in
our garden because my parents thought garden swings we’re too dangerous.
So we stuck to
robust park swings, especially the ones at Meriton Park.
What is it about
swings that are so fantastic?
I guess it’s that
they defy the rules of energy and gravity.
For very little
effort once you get going, you’re almost flying.
A few swings of
your legs, lean back and you’re in the air.
You can sit or
stand, jump off or stop.
Wrap your arms
around the two chains and you can lean forward and contemplate life as a 7 year
old for hours with just a few swings of your legs.
Of course the world
record height was the one to aim for which may result in going over the top.
I really thought
that was possible.
I wonder if it
is?
It would be a
magnificent sight to see someone, preferably a 7 year old be able to take a
swing over the supporting bar!
Thursday 19th September 2002
Given that I may
be going to America in a few weeks time and my first visit was in 1992, what
were my childhood impressions of The States?
Lots of crime on
the street. Why would we think any
differently? There had to be lots of
crime to generate, Ironside, Cannon, Rockford Files, Mission Impossible (that
was crime in other despotic countries), The Streets of San Francisco, Kojak,
have I missed any? Yes, Columbo, Starsky
and Hutch. Crime Crime Crime.
Cowboys were
fictional to the point of me wondering if cowboys ever actually existed.
Americans on the
whole seemed fat and friendly. And
students were rebellious and hippy (whatever that meant).
Presidents (like
Nixon) seemed reassuring to an 8 year old, which just goes to show the average
mental age of the voters there!!
Of course there
was the Empire State Building, was this myth or reality?
And homes from
sitcoms which were open plan and didn’t quite look like a closed in British
home.
Normal people
didn’t exist. You were either a crime
fighter, a crime committer, a cow herder somewhere in the middle on your way
from East to West or West to East, or poor or poor made rich (Beverley
Hillbillies).
And all houses
are made of wood and never brick. The
all have porches and verandas, and rocking chairs.
And everything
seemed freedom and equal, and I couldn’t understand what those black athletes
were doing raising their fists when receiving their Olympic Medals.
“Black Power” my mum said, well
clearly, they’d just won!!
Monday 16th September 2002
Yom Kippur is the
Jewish Day of Atonement.
How did we spend
it as kids?
In the morning we
drove to synagogue in the middle of Manchester.
It was a fast
day, so we did our best to hold out, but gave in at lunchtime when our Mum had
the banana sandwiches prepared for us.
Then we went
home.
Our parents went
to bed to sleep off the rest of the day fasting (that’s cheating isn’t it?).
And here’s the
strangest and most memorable part of Yom Kippur.
The smell of
grass and horsechestnut trees.
In the afternoon
my sister and I would walk into The Valley, along The River, which is amazing
because though we didn’t know it at the time, that’s what religious Jewish
people do: walk along rivers at Yom Kippur to cast their sins out.
And whilst
walking our boredom off I’d look for Conkers (Horsechestnut) or throw big
sticks at the trees to bring the Conkers down.
Hence the smell
of grass and horsechestnut!
Saturday 14th September 2002
I loved Leeds United as a kid.
Even though I supported Man United, I loved the Leeds team.
I think I’ve said this before but I don’t remember this image they’ve
picked up of being dirty, at the time.
It was a great team. I can still
name all the players. Gary Sprake
followed by Dave Harvey in goal. Terry
Cooper, Paul Madeley, Paul Reaney, Norman Hunter, Jack Charlton, Billy Bremner,
Johnny Giles, Eddie Gray, Peter Lorimer, Alan Clarke, Mick Jones. Have I missed anyone?
They were brilliant. Skilful and tough. Hard at the back, tough with
Billy Bremner, and skilful with Johnny Giles.
Industrious with Alan Clarke and Mick Jones up front.
I think in the end the image of them is from what became of the team
rather than how they were at the time.
Revie became greedy and cynical. Bremner and Hunter dirty, Giles
whinging. But look at the team. Bremner could mix it a bit, and Charlton and
Hunter could look after themselves, but who else was dirty?
It was a truly great team who should have won more than they did.
The one and only advantage of being dragged round Marks and Spencer by
your mum for several hours, was getting to buy the butter popcorn at the
checkout, eating it in the car on the way home, and feeling totally sick
afterwards, ready for the next circle of torture, pleasure and torture with the
next visit to M&S.
Wednesday 11th September 2002
What were the disasters and tragedies of my early childhood that I remember?
I was too young to remember Aberfan at the time.
Flixborough, yes, but I can’t remember the date.
A few airplane crashes.
Stockport. A Trident at Heathrow
I think.
Most disasters as a kid pass you by.
I don’t immediately remember them unless I read and remind myself.
They’re beyond your small safe world of comprehension as a young kid.
And one day suddenly, we lose our innocence.
Tuesday 10th September 2002
Just watching the 20th Anniversary of Just for Laughs,
Montreal Comedy Show.
So who first made me laugh as a kid on telly?
Let’s see how far back I can go.
Leslie Crowther and Peter Glaze in Crackerjack.
Norman Wisdom.
We never laughed out loud at cartoons, and it seemed creepy sitting with
other kids who did laugh.
I mean come on. Sure you could
watch Tom and Jerry, but laugh out loud?
Get out of here.
Who else made me laugh out loud?
Look, I’m British, even from very young we don’t laugh out loud; we smirk
and smile a knowing smile.
Monday 9th September 2002
Being away reminds me of the smell of Badedas!
My Mum used to take Badedas bubble bath away with us on holiday.
So whenever we had baths whilst on holiday we had Badedas.
I think of sun and the pain of getting in the bath with sunburn.
So even now when I go away, I think of Badedas bubble bath!
Sunday 8th September 2002
I didn’t think we
had classified or looked up to posh people.
But thinking
about it driving home today, somewhere I learnt the impression of who had more
money than us.
Now, we The
Goodson’s had no airs and graces (some may disagree).
We lived comfortably
within our means, on a modest middle of middle class estate, and we spent our
money when we had it.
Dad didn’t aspire
to anything more than we had, and didn’t readily take risks to achieving
anything more.
But I was
thinking today of some of the people who appeared to have more wealth than us,
or lived in posher areas, and I realise I had this idea of those having more
than us.
I can think of
several friends (or potential friends) who were classified into the wealthy
category and somehow held in high esteem.
Where did I get
this impression and a sense of some being wealthier than us? And lord knows we had relative wealth.
And as for the
real posh people, the upper classes.
Never met one of
them in my life.
All we had as
kids were middle class people clambering over each other to achieve something.
I don’t know what
it was, but I certainly got the impression that it was going on with many
parents, sometimes in subtle ways.
So subtle the
kids can spot it a mile off.
If you watch the 7UP programmes,
you can see the idea of class in Britain going on at a very early age, and much
younger than 7, so I’m not imagining it.
Although Britain
in the 60s was liberated and everyone in theory had equal opportunity, the idea
of class riddled through society, and therefore in my generation it’s still
there but faded.
As a kid, I
witnessed the middle classes clambering over each other to aspire with their
educated kids, I knew nothing of the upper classes except the Queen, and I
seemed to accept that that was ok, and I feared being bullied or robbed by the
working class!
Nothing much has
changed except the lines between middle class and working class have blurred
into got some money and haven’t got some money The Queen is still there and I
think Arthur Scargill has just retired!
Thursday 5th September 2002
Played tennis all
my life.
Jeremy Reynolds
in the street
Jamie Marsden on
the Meriton Rd tennis courts.
Those are my
first memories of playing.
But when did I
start to watch tennis.
I didn’t seem
that interested in watching when I was a kid.
There was Rod Laver,
John Newcombe and Ken Rosewall.
Roger Taylor was
the nearest we got to a British tennis player.
Billie Jean King,
Margaret Court, and Evonne Goolagong.
I just looked at
the Wimbledon winners, and I don’t reckon I followed tennis in the 60s, just played
it.
I don’t remember
Ann Jones winning in ’69, and the first Men’s Final I really followed was Stan
Smith v Ilie Nastase in ‘72.
But I do remember
Evonne Goolagong winning in ’71.
It seems the
tennis of the ‘60s passed me by.
I was too busy playing!
Wednesday 4th September 2002
There’s a chance
I might be going back to the UK in October or November.
And doing all
this writing has made me want to go back to The Valley to check out my thoughts
and images.
I was just imagining
being at The Pipe which crossed The River.
I can almost
transport myself there just thinking about it.
The greenness,
the lushness, the flowers and bushes, the smells.
A quiet little
river, but a big part of my life.
Tuesday 3rd Sept 2002
I was never bullied as a kid and I never bullied, though I was guilty sometimes of following the crowd a bit in picking and name calling some of the other kids.
What is it about some kids that attract bullying?
Is it their appearance?
Is it their demeanour?
Is it what they say?
Is it their background and parents?
Is it their name?
I don’t know, but when I look back, it’s very clear which kids were
bullied.
They stand out in my mind.
They seemed either physically weak or stood out and were different.
What is it in the instinct of kids to pick on these weak standouts?
I always feared being bullied but somehow avoided it.
I don’t know if it was luck or planning.
I can think of one teacher who every year would pick on one kid’s life to
make a misery.
So even the teacher was a bully to the one standout kid.
If you were good at sports you didn’t get bullied.
If you were good academically it didn’t necessarily mean you didn’t get
bullied.
I wonder what it was like for the kids that were picked on and bullied.
What is their perspective now?
Why did they think it happened and how did they cope with it?
Monday 2nd Sept 2002
I’ve tried to keep this writing to my early years, to limit to my early view from a child’s perspective.
But as I currently struggle to think of new ideas, though there must be
many, maybe I should open it out to my teenage years, which is another level of
trivia and craziness.
In fact it’s made my think of what I thought being a teenager was when I
was a kid.
Of course I always looked forward to being able to drive.
I had older cousins who were teenagers, but we only saw them
occasionally.
Being a teenager meant I could go to X films and see Bonnie and Clyde.
I could get married at 16.
I feared being older, because it meant you had to write long essays.
I couldn’t see when I was younger how it was possible to write long
essays.
I'd be taller.
I’d have more pocket money.
I’d be at senior school where there was more of a danger of being bullied,
or even sent to boarding school by me parents.
I’d have a proper racing bike to ride.
I’d be able to throw a stone a long way and over trees.
Come to think of it, there didn’t seem to be many teenagers around when I
was a kid.
There were either other kids, or grown-ups, so there weren’t many role
models around.
I was deprived of teenage role models as a kid.
That explains why I want to be 15 again.
Sunday 1st Sept 2002
It’s interesting
being a father now, how I have new perspective on things.
Every film and
programme with kids in like Father of the Bride, gives me new perspective.
I wonder what my
Dad’s perspective was when we were kids.
He seemed to
leave most of it to my Mum, whilst he went out to work.
I can see that
happening to me.
I have the money
worries, wife has the kids worries.
The more I leave
the money for the time with the kids, the more I worry about the money.
I guess that’s
what happened with my Dad, that as time went on because he had to work, he
spent less time with us and lost the close bonding.
Even though he
loved us and we felt loved.
In his later
years before he died, he wanted to be closer to us, but by then we were
teenagers, with no time for any adults, including our parents.
So on Fathers Day
with my 11 month old who I spend some time with, I have to make sure I don’t
drift too much to work and money.
Thinking of you
Dad.