Saturday 2 August 2008

Another twenty years

On Monday, Dad said he's planning to live for another twenty years. That would be until he's ninety-six.

"Oh bloody hell." I said.

Dad laughed.

Friday 1 August 2008

1993

It is 1993 (maybe early 1994) and I am sitting on a bench in the city's second best shopping centre with my friend JM. We think we probably look about 20 but in fact we look 17. Just 17.

We have been mooching about as teenagers are inclined to do, with no particular obligations on our time and no real responsibilities. We looked cool sitting cross legged smoking.

In retrospect I'm not sure what we looked like but I'm sure as anything that we didn't look cool.

JM laughed and said

"It's your dad. Ha ha ha ha ha..."

I thought she was joking in an attempt to get me to drop my cigarette.

"R_." boomed the old sea-dog behind me. "Are you smoking?"

"No." I said, despite holding in my hand evidence that I was, indeed, smoking.

"Put those out." He commanded.

JM and I reached round to stub them out on the side of the bench.

"Not there!" he boomed and made us put them in the bin.

He eventually went on his way and we went on ours, to a quiet corner of one of the parks to smoke more cigarettes.