Sunday, 26 March 2017

Happy Birthday Nicky!

First of all lets get this out of the way, you were an absolute pain in the arse as a kid! Demanding, annoying, terrible dress sense and you were a Bros fan! Seriously what on earth did I do to deserve you as a sister?

Things didn't get much better as you started to grow up, we went as Adam and Eve one year at a holiday camp fancy dress for kids, this was the 70's people chill out, all the cousins dressed up, you had the apple and you ate it on the way there! So there we were me looking like Tarzan and you standing next to me munching on the apple you were given. We never won although we got a lot of oohhhs and aaahhhs.

On another occasion we were sitting there eating dinner, all happy and excited for the evenings entertainment, when you fell asleep in your dinner. Literally head first into your dinner. That was the end of that night.

So you have a habit of causing me grief don't you? Can you see a pattern emerging here? Well thank god you grew out of it. You have become a wonderful mother to your kids, you don't have it easy with all that has happened but you've hung in there. You have Dads strength and stubbornness, I inherited the emotion and soft side, we kind of balance each other out.

We don't always see eye to eye and we do still argue. We are both very opinionated and both know how to wind each other up, but it isn't done with any malice, you still cant get over the fact I'm the Golden child, hey what can I say some of us are born with it, some aren't.

As sisters go you aren't too bad Nicky, we will continue to clash till our dying day, but what wont change is my pride in the woman and mother you have become, the way that no matter what life throws at you, you just get on with it, bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of sparkling wine in the other, surround by some really good friends who have helped you get to where you are now.

So as you get older on yet another birthday just take a minute to look back to what you've faced and realise you have survived 100% of your worst days and whatever comes next wont be as bad. From the kids who love their Auntie Nicky, from the Sister in Law who loves you like a sister and from me a proud older brother who doesn't always tell or show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you and bloody proud of you I am.

Happy Birthday Sis xxx

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

Being an 80's kid

Kids nowadays have it so easy compared to when  I was teenager back in the 80's, want to know if your mates in? Pick up the mobile phone you have and ring them. Want to know a football score? Look it up on the internet. Want to listen to a song? Download it. You've done all of this from your settee and its instant.

As a kid if I wanted to know if someone was in I had to go and knock for them. They weren't in? Well you then went to the next house, and the next one, and the next one, until 2 hours later you found them and they wondered where you had been all day!. The bloody cheek of it, you had just rode your back for 26 miles to find them and they wondered where you had been! Did you moan? Did you heck you just got on with it.

Music played a huge part in my development as a teenager you would get your girlfriend into your room, you would take that record out of its sleeve, blow it for dust, come on we all did it, place the needle on the vinyl and make your way back to her as Luther Vandross started singing from your AWIA stereo system. We weren't allowed our Dads Barry White records in case we scratched them. The lights off you would start smooching away, working your way a little lower, this by the way had taken months to happen. Months of planning and telling her you loved her, months of your mates boasts ringing in your ears, months of hoping and praying that what you had been told it felt like wasn't true, but somewhere hoping it was. You would just start to feel the curly clock springs, working your self into a frenzy and the bloody record would end.

You would hope she didn't notice and just be so into you that it was no holds barred but oh no, the noise that needle made as it finished scratching on the label killed any hope you had. She would pull your hand away and ask you to turn the record over. You would try and persuade her, telling her you had washed you hands and trimmed your nails especially, but she would insist on listening to the other side. So you would get up, walking like someone had just kicked you in the nuts, trying to hide the bulge in your jeans and turn the damn record over.

You would hobble back to the bed but you could see her straightening her hair and you knew the moment was gone and Luther Vandross was a bastard for not singing more 7 and 8 minute songs. Thats why as kids we never played the Beatles when we had girls round. 2 to 3 minute songs pfft no chance mate.

The top 40 was realistically the only way I could afford the records in the quantities I wanted to listen to them. Every Sunday I would finish my dinner and go upstairs with my TDK 90 cassette and tape the latest records from the radio. Trying to beat the bastard DJ talking over the end of the record and ruining it for me. I hated Bruno Brooks for this for years. I swear he did it on purpose, 10 seconds before the end of the song, there he was saying how well it had done in the charts that week, how good it was, god I hated that man. You desperately tried to press the pause button before he spoke and every time you missed it. It was like the bastard was watching you, thinking go on press it, go on beat me, ah you wont sucker.

No matter how hard I tried I never managed to get the full song without him talking on it. So kids when you say how tough your life is now, you havent even lived. We didnt have selfies, we didnt have 128gb playlists that meant we could just let the songs play and get on with it. Oh no we had vinyl and bastard DJ's talking over our records. We had to compete with an Album that meant you was always one song away from being a man. It was absolute hell.

Ah who am I kidding its the absolute dogs nuts of time.