Monday, 4 September 2017

Here's a Story I Wrote in memory of my father... I can't even remember writing it, such was my state of mind I guess... This is similar to my Scruffy Kid Stories only this one features my father rather then me...
Have a read you may like it. 

The Day I Met My Father…Possibly

 The April rain that shone as gold in the late evening was nowhere to be seen as it was now October.
 In fact it was The 19th October 1956.

 Jim Philpott had made his way home in the knowledge he was now the proud owner of two Twin boys, hardly used and straight out of their wrappers.
 I suspect I need to point out at this juncture that the boys are unidentical Twins, produced from separate eggs. This is like A billion and one people saying, "What are the Chances?"

 Michael was born first and was duly slapped by the Midwife for his impudence… Paul having seen these events dodged and slapped his Dad for being cheeky.
In fact after my jazz hands entrance to the world followed by "Ta Da!" The nurse thought, this ones too cute to slap, so she slapped my dad for being cheeky too. 
 Now at home relaxing after helping with all the pushing involved with moving the furniture During birth, Jim sipped his Tea, then jumped bolt upright to the sound of knocking on the door, this knocking was the result of someone’s hand being made into a fist, and tapping the door with its knuckles.
 By the time Jim put down his tea… nibbled on his bourbon the door was knocked again.
 “Are you Mr Philpott?” the man said muffled from behind the door? 
So Jim opened the door to a young reporter from The Southern Evening Echo. (of course Jim didn’t know he was a reporter at the time… that would just be spooky!)
 “Hello I’m from The Southern Evening Echo.” The young reporter said, quite unnecessarily for us, as I’ve already mentioned it but very necessary to the Proud Father.
 “Are you happy about the triplets Mr Philpott?”

 When Jim recovered some time later he told the reporter he was unaware of a third child, so he rushed by walking back to the hospital.
 Lying peacefully in her bed June Philpott, Wife to Jim remarked on his arrival “What do you want? I’m resting!… all that pushing takes it out of you you know, and I’m still not sure the wardrobe looks good in the middle of the room.”
 “Forget that!! Where’s this Third baby?” Jim replied anxiously. 
“What Steven? He’s home with you and your Mother you Nut!”
 “No, Not him the other one?”
 “What other one? Have you been out celebrating with the falling over juice?”
 “No… the Man from the Paper said…”
 “A Man made of Paper?”
 No… Not a M…… What? That would be ridiculous; he’d get soggy every time it rained… No I mean from the Echo?”
“From the Ec…..Ho very funny… anyway he said we had Triplets!”
 “Na… your having a laugh… I’d know if we had three!”
 “Because cubby chops, I can count!” June said emphatically.

 Well what a palaver, someone had reported a women had  given birth to triplets… and the Echo keen to get to the story that would have been front page news, had a big let down…
 “No we only had Twins.” My Mother later told the reported… “But one is rather Gorgeous if that’s any good?”
 “Na…. your alright.” The reported said with that Huff sound people make after Huffing.
 And that was it! 
This is actually a true story but the words might not exactly be those used by the above mentioned participants on the day… Now That Would be even Spookier! 

 My Mother told me about the mix up and the excitement it had cause at the time. Poor old Dad must have fainted in shock.

Yours Truly The Scruffy Kid.

Friday, 21 July 2017

What the Who? 

Here we are, and there couldn't be a better place to start then right at the beginning. 
William Hartnell was The Doctor and with his Granddaughter Susan. (Proof that The Doctor is in fact Male of the species known as Gallifreyan) They fly through time and space together as family.

I know what your thinking, he types slow, but hush as I feverishly type with a single finger in a blur, and when I want to show off, two fingers; Yes impressive, and if it was just my typing prowess you've come to see, then I've satisfied your need in almost the first sentence, for that alone I can sleep soundly in my bed tonight, happy in the knowledge I've at least pleased someone.

As a child of Seven ( also known as #TheScruffyKid years) I had the exciting prospect of seeing the very first episode of Doctor Who, only back, then it was just one of many amazing shows from the 60's, so excitement never entered my head. 
The headlines of the day unfortunately were full of the assassination of president Kennedy. Not a good day to start but start they did, and just to make sure it got the attention they needed they repeated the first episode the following week.
The reason I bring this up is because of the fact that even at the age of seven I associated The Doctor with my Grandfather, so even at this tender age I'm looking for something familiar to attach this new character to. and that is Family.
So it's family values that are bought to the fore when I think of Doctor Who. Patrick on the other hand had a cheery cheeky Uncle thing going on, so again I attach a family relationship to the character.
Doctor Who was devised to be A Family Show, not just a kids show as we are often reminded when bringing up any subjects that highlight flaws in an episode.
It's has only been since 2011, that the possibility of the Doctor regenerating into a woman appeared, yes it had been spoken about as early as the 80's, but it wasn't until 2011 that it was written in as a prospect in a series.
This I believe was driven by Feminists who probably don't even watch the show, getting on their high horse. Now I'm not advocating only feminist can have high horses, anyone who wants a high horse is very welcome to one, unless your really tiny, then I would suggest that a high horse may look rather foolish and highlight your height, or lack of it. I myself would be happy with a moderately average wide girth horse, as I would look ridiculous on a Shetland Pony, for all you would see of the poor creature, is a head and four little legs buckling under the strain, so what I guess I'm saying is, Horses aren't just for Christmas.

SUDDEN INTERUPTION! "This is the BBC, we would just like to say No Shetland ponies were harmed in this story."
"Why are you here?"
"Well, you are talking about a BBC programme, so I'm here to maintain the standards of the BBC."
"I see, OK while you're here...."
"No we don't want any of your stories. We have lots of stories, and more writers then we can shake a stick at, we know this, because the man we hired to shake his stick handed in his finding yesterday."
"Well that's charming I must say.... I spent minutes on those!"
"We Don't want them....LALALALALA." said the man from the BBC with his fingers stuck in his ears, as he leaves with one final 'Huff!'
"Well that takes the biscuits."
"No that was me!" (a new voice)
"Who are you?"
"I'm the stick shaker... It's been a busy time for me, I've been shaking my stick at people who won't accept the new Doctor all week! It's very tiring, Oh and those cherry short bread biscuits are lovely."
"Oi, you're talking to the converted MATE! I know how good my cherry shortbreads are... was... look, just move your seat so I'm not interrupted again."
"Will I get paid?"
"Paid? are you nuts...? You've been paid  your weight in biscuits!"
"Fair enough." And the room rebounds to the sound  of a chair scrapping across the floor.

But I digress. As you see The Doctor is with Susan, as previously mentioned, who we can assume is The Doctor's Daughter's child. Of course because the story of the Doctor's Daughter is NuWho, we now see one of it's many Flaws when we relate it to the Original series, This Daughter is the result of DNA taken from The Doctor. But this is how it was written, it's not a perfect tie in, but let's use what we have so at least it's something we are all familiar with. 
We know the Doctor MUST have had either a Son or Daughter, so with 54 years under it's belt this relationship should have been covered in a way that would Make the Doctor the biological Father as a result of a relationship. 
In stories I've written, from about four years ago, I do cover this, because I felt it is a story that needs to be told, but the DNA Daughter is all we have to bring into this loop, And another BIG plus! she is the real life Daughter of Peter Davison. who most of you know as the 5th Doctor. What a wonderful example of keeping it in the family. 

Now HERE is the perfect role model for any young girl, for if the Doctor's Daughter is anything like my Daughter we will have a smarter, wittier, and far more talented Doctor venturing out for a life in a TARDIS of her own.
So what have we missed? The Doctor's Daughter belongs to the 10th Doctor. so how did The First Doctor end up with this Daughter's  Daughter in his charge. 
What terrible event occurred?  what made her feel that her Father's first incarnation was the safest place for her... Is there something special about Susan we don't know about? This again is an intriguing story, and I'd argue that this is a Better story, better then unthreading Every single Episode we've seen thus far of the Doctor Who show we all love.
So did we really need to change the Gender of this long established Male role? just because some think we should? It's never been forced on any other TV character I can think of, so why Doctor who? 
Why can't we change Spock from Star Trek? 
Let's ALL campaign, Yes wave those banners now, so that, come the next film in the franchise, we can have a woman play the role, after all, 'He is an Alien!' isn't this the main reason behind this ridiculous situation? ET could be a Girl. Oh the options are endless, but guess what, it will never happen.

The Daughter must have a TARDIS of her own, as it's her, that seeks out the old man, a man who would not be unaware he was a Father, let alone a Grandfather.  
I think if my Daughter was still young, she would have loved to have been associated with The Doctor's Daughter, then she may have seen The Doctor as a Father figure. 
This gives the programme that much needed Family feeling again, this brings the whole family together to enjoy some Adventure filled Entertainment. Called Family Time. 
I know we could have seen the First Doctor in a relationship, but we didn't, did we.

The Regeneration

Now let's talk about the  first regeneration, only it was called renewal at the time, here we  see a tired weary Doctor desperate to return to the TARDIS, after his first contact with the Cybermen  on Monbus But WHY?
I'll tell you why, because he had heard of a legend, that The Pilot of a TARDIS could have their tired bodies renewed.
And at this point he'd never seen it done... it was just a old tale he heard as a child. Because not every Gallifreyan has a chance to renew, or the Doctor would have witnessed it in his life time, and he had not, so he is full of doubt.
The Doctor is scared, scared because he may die, and he wasn't ready for it.
The Tardis is the Key to Regeneration, not the Doctor, THIS IS THE ORIGINAL CONCEPT! and one that gets forgotten in time as one writer takes over from another, not really studying the previous episodes.
But The Power comes from the TARDIS, and anyone who saw the first Regeneration will tell you the rotor at the centre console was in motion as the change occurred. 
It has been established that there is a symbiotic relationship between The Doctor and his TARDIS. The TARDIS renews The Doctor because it needs it's pilot to survive. and the very word renew, means to make as new. 
The Doctor is Male so when his body renews as a Male, there was never any suggestion at the time this Process could change the sex of the bodies original host.
Both RTD and Moffat  take it for granted that it is The Doctor that brings about the renewal of his Body, I don't blame them for not paying attention to the original details as others have made this same mistake, and it is a very important mistake in my opinion.

And if you doubt my word dear reader here is one of Patrick Troughton's first lines, from Power of The Daleks; 
The Doctor: "Renewed? Have I? That’s it, I’ve been renewed. It’s part of the TARDIS. Without it I couldn’t survive."

So come on people pay attention in future.

So there we have it. this is the main reason I can't accept this change, because it doesn't tie into the story I've grown up with since it's conception.
If you disagree fine, that's very much up to you. and I'll support your opinion.
For me this adventure of an old man and his Old Police Box is over, and what we are now given in it's place is a spin-off of the Original Programme. Let's call it What The Who?

And while writing this it has all been kicking off for Peter Davison, he's actually stated he will supported the decision of making Jodie the next Doctor, but he also said he regretted the loss of a well established strong male lead, and role model for boys. 
So for the life of me why Colin felt the need to tell him he was Wrong, only goes to show people only listen to what they want to hear, and try to use it to their advantage and grab the limelight.
I hope we continue to see Peter on Twitter.
There shouldn't be any talk that acceptance is only for true fans, we are Diverse in our views and surely diversity has been what everyone has been crying out about. 
Do not shut people down with ridiculous taunts of sexism or any other 'ism.' 
For a writer who hasn't taken any responsibility for the drop in the Rating to say Who a True fan is! really does shows how arrogance  blinds us to our faults. 
Only YOU can decide if you are a Fan or Not. Neither the Actors or Writers get to choose.
If you haven't guessed already I too regret this Change, but I would never wish to see an Actor out of work, so for Jodie to get this role will be an amazing thing for her as an actor and a person, because it guarantees a living long after the role has ended. This is mainly thanks to people like Jon Pertwee who helped bring these Conferences to life, and it took him a few years to get Patrick Troughton involved too, and he grew to enjoy it, and I know he took pride in being part of something that goes far beyond the show itself.

I've been Paul, even though some say I've been Frank... I don't even now the guy....? 

One day I shall come back, yes I shall come back, until then there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine. 

Thursday, 8 June 2017

The Lemon Drops

Cherry blossom time

Michael edged slowly forward, moving as he once did At 5, back then it was because he was thrust into a sacky snake skin for the schools nativity, as this was the only costume left, and due to his lack of enthusiasm, it ensured he'd be the last to be issued one. Marcus and Spence of course were two of the three Kings. but that was by the by this was now, and Michael was petrified, his fear of heights was making his outer organs seek refuge back inside his body, a body with a ice cold hand gripping his stomach as he inched forward to look over the edge of the geography building's roof, and down into the campus quad. He turned his head awkwardly back to Marcus, who was standing on the very edge, leaning forward in a way that made the icey grip in Michael grip even tighter. He looked as though he hadn't a care in the World. Marcus was always the courageous one, he'd be first to pick you up when you fell, and stand between anyone who wished harm to his friends. He was strong, athletic, and captained any team he joined.
"Marcus! I don't like this! Why can't we just walk round the Quad to look for this scumbag?"
The cherry blossom was in full bloom down below in the Washington campus Quadrangle.
"Mikey that drug pushing son of a bitch is down there somewhere."

"Well yea! and we can still catch him on the Ground, and my balls would be free the hang again."

"Jeez Mikey, get a grip dude, it's the same as standing at the sidewalk!"

"You don't fall to an ugly death from a sidewalk."

Marcus laughed, "Well, I don't see him anyway, let’s get back."

"Why are you so keen to find the guy anyway?"
"You Know Why!"
"OK, I didn't mean to sound insensitive, Kristin meant a lot to all of us."
"Yea... Well, it's not the scumbag I really want, it's the guy without a care, driving a Lambo, and when we know who! We can bring his world of comfort crashing down."
Marcus leaned over more, for one last look.
"Man! Quit that will ya! While I still have nuts. The Police should be doing this."
"Com'on Mikey, the Police see one more dead druggy, they didn't know, or want to know Kristin, she's a body bag with a tag, let's go."
And with that Marcus spun on his heels as he headed back to Spence, who had been holding the roof access door open for their return.

Michael took one last involuntary look as he imitated a slug arching its back, as it found the power to reverse.

When he felt far enough from the edge, he rolled onto his back breathing in the sweet smelling spring air.

Now calm he rolled onto his knees, whilst taking care to keep the Quad to his back, 

and stood, grateful to be alive.

Spence just grinned at his friend, as he waited.

"Hey, I could have done the looking you know, and you could have held this damn door open, have you felt the spring on this thing? it will take an arm, I'm sure. "
"Yea, well then what would be the point of M&M's?  It would lose all meaning, and the Lemon drop gang would mourn its loss."
"What do you mean? We are the lemon drop gang!"
Back in Boston while the boy's were growing, they started a lemonade stand for pocket money. And the scruffy little gang adopted the name Lemon drops.
Now with both feet firmly on Terra Firma, Michael felt the cry for food.
"OK, Who's Hungry?" He asked.
Marcus looked into the distance. "You two go get something, I've another option I want to try out, and I’ll meet you both back here, in the library at 2.00."
"Sounds good to me." Spencer said, already heading to Aunt Mimi's, which was the name the boy's gave to the quad cafe.

That was the last Time I saw Marcus, I'm Michael Fergal Fitzpatrick, and with Spencer Anderson, we are going to find who caused the death of Kristin Mullin, and discover what happened to Marcus.

Thursday, 6 April 2017

A Snippet of The Scruffy Kid, Favourite Son

Me at One and a Banksy

Favourite Son

It was one of those hot lazy summer days where the heat rose in shimming waves from the pavement.
At the time these shimmering days seemed to last forever, and the laughter of children filled the air, to compete with noise of the bees, birds and butterfly’s as they fluttered and buzzed in the sky.
It was the sound of joyous life, where the insects and birds added to this summer soundtrack.
I'm five and enjoying my first summer holiday from school.

Down by the shopping centre was an enclosed car park, these garages were set in a dip, and the surrounding land was made into a grassy slope.
Without snow and it being the height of summer the pleasure of sledging was made possible on grass with the aid of a torn piece of cardboard boxes.
Well that's what the sensible kids used like me; my twin however decided his short trousers could provide adequate slipperiness to this fun activity.

As the days pass the grass was quickly worn to dry stoney soil, where the sliding kids were followed by the lifting dust cloud, and it's here someone was about to lose the back of his trousers.
Well as you’ve no doubt guest that someone was my twin Michael who was blissfully unaware the entire back of his trousers was replaced by the sight of his soiled pants… soiled with soil thankfully.
Well he soon became aware due to the friction burn on his backside, and No Mother is kissing that better you idiot!

So it was a few days after this I was presented with these Holey Shorts…. I say holey but not in the saintly you now have the power of Gods in your pants kind of way. (which would have been cool as the parting clouds allowed a golden light to shine on my blessed trousers, to the sounds of singing angels)
In fact there was literally no material on the rear of these trousers at all.
This is when you realise you’re in no way the favourite son, heck! You're not even the second favourite, but luckily there isn't a third to make you the fourth, so I figured the least Favourite son was up for grabs so I took it with both hands... Yea in your face Family, I'm here whether you like it or not.
“What?....Why do I have to wear those? I never did that!”
“Michael is going to your grandmothers, with Steven and Loraine so you have to stay here!... he can’t go out wearing those.”
“But he’s wearing MY Trousers!...... MINE!”
“Well you’re not going out so you have to have these.”
“But I want to go out!”
“Well you can’t in these, so quit you’re moaning and put them on.”
there's no use arguing with these giant parent types. So I just busy myself with my constant companion, my trusty scratch book.

So there I was condemned to stay home, until my friend from the bungalows, near to our home called. (These were what we thought at the time as Posh kids, as their parents owned their own home.)
So my posh friend asks, “Are you coming out to play?”
It took me a nanosecond to consider the consequences of being seen with my backside hanging out of my shorts to say, “Yes.”
And out I go, and soon we are opening the gate to his driveway to walk round his home into his family’s rear garden.
All this time I’m conscious of keeping by backside out of view, and all gardens at this time had a coal bunker, a concrete rectangular box, that sat about 4 feet high.
So jumping up I sat myself down on it…. Now satisfied my hide was hidden.
“OHHHHHH yes please.” (Posh kids had the greatest mothers) I say to the smiling face of my friend’s mother.
Brilliant! And my friend asks, “Can we have cake too mum?”
“Of course, I’ll bring it out to you.”
What can I say…. Cake and lemonade! I was in the garden of heaven.
The garden was well kept, with roses and other flowers in full bloom, and that lovely familiar buzz filled my ears, and I felt truly happy.
We joked around, playing word games and such then his sister joined us, she was beautiful with blonde hair that shone like corn.
We were laughing away and eating cake when suddenly…. As most things that happen when you’re least expecting them… I was stung by something in my throat… This was like Och! But much more painful.

I was starting to get hot and my throat felt tight, so with one hand to my throat I jump off the coal bunker, then the concerned face of my friends sister changes to confusion as she sees my backside hanging out of my trousers, and I can see she’s wondering if I ripped them as I jumped.
Her mother runs to me saying, “Oh My Goodness! Are you alright? Did you rip your trousers?”
I’m feeling giddy and say….. “Bluuuuuuh.”
“Mum he’s been stung by a bee!” My friend says
“Oh NO!.... we must get you home.” And she plucks me from the ground like I was a feather and runs with me in her arms to the rear of my home… with my head back all I see is sky, and I remember thinking 'wow that's really blue.'
My friend was soon banging the door like the klappers, and it's soon answered by my mother.
“He’s been stung by a Bee! And he’s ripped his trousers jumping from our coal bunker the poor boy.”
I’m rushed in and sat on a chair where I wobble, feeling sick and dizzy.
“I’m terribly sorry I hope he’s alright?”
“I’ll fetch him some water, he’ll be fine.” My mother concludes, “Thank you for bringing him back.”
“Is he going to Die MUM?”
Am I going to die? I’m thinking as my throat tightens even more.
“No! He’ll be fine.” My friend’s mother reassures him and me at the same time.

When all the fuss dies down and I’m alone in the kitchen with my mother she says, “I told you to stay indoors, this wouldn’t have happened if you listened.”
I was finding it hard to talk, I was slightly scared bee poison might be the end of me, but I manage to say…. “I didn’t want to stay in mum.” but in my head I'm saying shouldn't you be feeling guilty? if I wasn't attempting to hide my Hide I may have been standing and running about like a normal kid... Bees would have looked and thought, 'Na, he's moving to fast to be a flower, curse you boy with sweet cake.'
“Well we can’t go to the Doctor’s, not with you dressed like that so drink this water and rest.”

She looked worried which worried me, she would never give me trousers with holes in again, that was for sure, so in that way I won a small victory for my freedom.
After a while my swollen throat did die down and when my siblings returned home I was able to tell them how I escaped the icy hands of death armed with a holey pair of trousers and true grit….and my Twins a git! I added, which is apparently a rude thing to say, but true.