The Gorilla Incident

The Gorilla Incident

 

The sun was in a good mood as the family and the other jolly adventures queued to board the Coliseum coach.

 

"All aboard!"

 

Window seat, window seat, window seat, out the way lady... WINDOW SEAT!

Sorted.

There I am, halfway down, on the left hand side, nose pressed to the glass, first win of the day.

"Did you go to the toilet?"

"Yes mum," sigh.

 "Well you better had."

I'm three of four of the sibling collective, the fourth being my little sister, beside me is Jess, our Gran (as we were the first grandchildren, (Jess wasn't ready to be called Gran, so she insisted on being called Jess)

 Jet black hair like my siblings, and hazel eyed, like my siblings, Jess was a formidable woman, she never suffered fools, and her word was law, so deal with it.

All us kids were skinny in the 60's, which when you look back was amazing, considering the amount of fat and sugar we consumed.

You could literally buy a bag of sugar by the Ib and add a red sticky lolly pop, on it's sticky stick, that you used as a shovel to get that sherbet down you, it came in all colours and flavours, and by far the cheapest form of sweets you could get for your money, and Wow, they knew nothing of the increased energy boost causing hyperactivity.

We could run all day on one packet, the main safety feature on most play ground areas was concrete, the lesson being, don’t fall down, it hurts, most boys, had scabby knees, and elbows, and you’d always get to a point where the edges of the hardened blood, would lift, you had to be patient, pull too soon, and it bled all over again, get it right and you had a nasty old scab to chase the other kids with.

“Ohh, get off with that smelly scab,”

RUN!   

I guess it was all the running that made us so skinny.

 

 

Back on Board the coach, it wouldn’t be long before the singing started, once we were underway.

My old man said: "Foller the van,

And don't dilly-dally on the way".

Off went the van wiv me 'ome packed in it.

I walked be'ind wiv me old cock linnet.

But I dillied and dallied,

Dallied and dillied;

Lost me way and don't know where to roam.

And you can't trust a "Special"

Like the old-time copper

When you can't find your way ‘ome.

Oh yes, we can’t beat a song about being thrown out of your home, for missing the rent, to get things started, and everyone would be singing, especially the elders among us, who’d really put some oomph into it.

Then key change please while we start our next little ditty, Daisy Daisy… I thank you.

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do.
I'm half crazy all
for the love of you.
It won't be a stylish marriage,
I can't afford a carriage.
But you'll look sweet,
Upon the seat,
Of a bicycle made for two.

 I think you’ll find poverty features a lot in the old songs as we were all living on the edges of it, the 60’s wasn’t long passed the rationing from World War Il, just 10 years after that I was born in 1956, that makes you think, doesn’t it, 10 years just flashes by these days.

And another maestro please.

I'm getting married in the morning!
Ding dong! The bells are gonna chime.
Pull out the stopper!
Let's have a whopper!
But get me to the church on time!
I gotta be there in the mornin'
Spruced up and lookin' in me prime.
Girls, come and kiss me;
Show how you'll miss me.
But get me to the church on time!

We must have sung a few hundred songs on our way to Bristol Zoo, and there was one song I could jump up and start, and the rest of the coach would all join in instantly…

There she was justa walking down the street singing?

Then you put a hand to the ear, and await the reply..

do-wah diddy-diddy down diddy-do.
Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet, singin'

do-wah diddy-diddy down diddy-do.
She looked good, LOOKED GOOD

she looked fine, LOOKED FINE

she looked good, she looked fine and I nearly lost my mind.

You’re all singing it in your heads now aren’t you? I’ve still got it baby, I’ve no idea what It Is! But I’ve got it, what ever it is.

 

Bristol Zoo

 

If it smells of hay, and smells of poo, you must be at?

 

BRISTOL ZOO!

I thank you, I’m here all week, try the fish.

So here we are all entering said Zoo, and there would be a donkey or elephant going by, and then head over the fencing was a camel, there’s one thing I learned at Southampton Zoo that lead me to be cautious  of these humpity lot... So I stand back and wait, and sure enough, the Camel tips its head back and spits right in my big brothers face, yea this boys learnt nothing... Nothing! It’s a Camel they hate you!

So the rest of us are all laughing, tears in our eyes doubled over, and mum offers my brother a tissues, and I say,

“Mum it’s too late, that Camels gone.”

Unamused my brother takes the tissue and wipes his face, then chases us with the disgusting contents.

Well let me tell you, no one ran a sprint faster than I, in this family, so I’m pretty much untouchable but my sister, with her short little legs, she’s easy meat and she’s going to get it.

“Eww Mum! Steven has rubbed spit in my face!”

“Get away from her, give me that! Now give this fresh tissue to your sister, or you’ll have a thick ear? “

 

Believe me, no one wants a thick ear, so my brother obeyed.

We’re walking around for about ten minutes, so you know what it’s time for right? Yes Icecream.

“Dad dad dad dad… Icecream!”

“No!”

What did he just say? Because I don’t think I’m hearing right.

“DAD?”

Mums first to cave, YESSSSS, so she says, now would be a good time for a cup of tea before the trouble starts…

“What trouble?” says dad, like he didn’t know.

“Your Bloody kids, I don’t need them yapping all day so come on, the café is there look.”

“You’re too soft on these kids.”

“Your head will be soft in a minute, so move it.” Mum says, “You and dad want a tea Mum?” she asks Jess (The Boss)

“That would be lovely, right Jim?” she replies, bringing my Dad back into the conversation.

Dad groans, in that way we all do when we don’t really agree, but it would be rude not to.

Now I’m going to teach you lot, the #ScruffyKid ice-cream eating technique formed by years of skilled training and dedication.

First you take your Icecream in a cone, At this particular time, rectangular cones, tapering to a point at the end, were the norm, as ice-cream came in blocks, and the manufactures, made separate segmented, ice-cream   ready the fit the cone.

“Would you like Hundreds and Thousands?”

“I certainly would like Hundreds and Thousands my good man, dip away, and I maybe counting that I have a thousand, so no tricks Mr I’m watching you…” and two fingers to the eyes, and pointing with those same fingers adds enthuses to the task at hand.

 OK Ice Cream connoisseurs, this is how to eat a coned Ice cream, start licking all round, savour the thousands, then every so often push down with the tongue, you keep going until you’ve forced as much ice cream as you can down into the cone, when the top is flat to the top of the cone, you’ve made yourself an ice cream sandwich, bit off the bottom and if you’ve done your work, it will be full of ice-cream, yum, eat at your leisure.

 

Well now all refreshed, we continue our adventure round the Zoo, soon a monkey cage appears, and one fact I can tell you is this, my twin is a monkey, as soon as he gets to the cage a monkey will run up to the cage opposite, so he starts swinging his arms and running up and down the side of the cage, with the monkey following him, like a reflection from a mirror, a crowd soon gathers and they notice the similarities…

“I’m not sure that’s even a boy!  Run monkey boy run!”

 

As exciting as that is, we continue our walk and ahead is the Gorilla cage, I can’t say enclosure, because in the 60’s these cages had very little and not that roomy, I’m about four paces behind Jess at this point, and even from my position, I can see this Gorilla isn’t happy, its pacing and growling at the crowd, and it began rocking side to side, then quick as a flash, it poops into one hand and flings it with all his might straight at my Gran Jess (The Boss)

Everything is silent for a fraction of a second as everyone’s jaw drops, then I point and say “Hey Mum, that Gorilla got Jess!”

My Mother is shocked, and now those spared the poop hit, start laughing, and Jess isn’t happy.

“That dirty little devil.” She says indignant.

Then Granddads at her side laughing and handing her his cotton hanky, Jess takes it and tries brushing off some before attempt to wipe it off, but that poo’s stubborn, so those relieved it wasn’t them move on, much to Jess’s relief  as she was embarrassed by the attention,     

Granddad laughs, “He didn’t like you did he,” He grins.

    “No the little sod.” And despite the shock she starts laughing, and a Zoo keeper came over to apologise, and offered to hose Jess down, but she went to soap it off in the nearest Zoo Loo… get it ? Just me then.

Doing my best Michael Caine voice I say, “Hey Mum, where are the Zoo Loo’s?” Not a lot of people know that.

What a day, not many people can boast a Gorilla picked them out from the crowd, that made the trip even more memorable.

Then as light started to fade, we made our merry way back to the coach, for the return journey and more singing…

 

 Back at school teacher asks, did everyone have a good weekend?

I had a great weekend Miss, a Gorilla threw Poo at my Gran!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

 

A personal story... The #ScruffyKid

 A personal story... The #ScruffyKid

November, the light rain was full of icy intentions, the sort of rain to lazy to be sleet...but determined to be cold.

We all set out to take our place, saying our farewells to family as we lined the street. 

You could feel a air of excitement so intense, at that moment you could hear a pin drop, it was the focus to what was to come, it muffled the buzz of chat, as everyone took their position.

At the front and centre was a drummer I knew as my elder brother. 

We waited for the signal, the wind felt bitter, but ignored, as a hand is raised, and the drummers lift the sticks, to be held just under and in front of the nose, in white gloved hands. 

As the first beat strikes we march as one, and the music of a 50 strong marching band of the 23rd Division heads down hill, from the road centre. 

At first it’s just the drums with the rat-a-ta-tat-tat and the booming of the bass drums, then my moment comes as I raise my bugle in unison with my fellows players, and a familiar tune known as the theme to Top of the Form  begins.

Oh,  the cold really bit in during the downwards March, I start losing all feeling to my fingers, as the thin white cotton glove is for looks only, and provides no thermal barrier. 

We beat and tooted our way to the Church, providing Remembrance service, where all the main kids military units were to gather, the cubs, scouts, sea scouts, air cadets, brownies, Girl guilds, Boy’s and Girls Brigade, Who all marched and froze their way on foot. 

After the March releasing my grip on the ice cold bugle proved impossible, and the brigade Band leader hurriedly rubbed heat back into my hand, until I could let go. 

 

Those were the days my friends, we thought they’d never end, because Mary Hopkins told us so.

We will remember Them, as they fought so we would learn not to.